or GREAT BRITAIN, the most considerable of all the European islands, extends from the Lizard Point, in the latitude of about 50°, to Dunwich-head in latitude 58° 30' N. or, taking it in a straight line from north to south, about eight degrees or 550 miles; and from Dover-head on the east to Land's-end on the west comprehends about seven degrees of longitude, which may be computed at about 290 miles; but the form being very irregular, and lessening continually towards the north, proper allowances must be made in computing its dimensions.

The ancient name of this island was Albion, the name Britain being then common to all the islands round it. Hence Agathemerus, speaking of the British islands, "They are many in number (says he); but the most considerable among them are Hibernia and Albion." And Ptolemy, to the chapter wherein he describes the island now called Great Britain, prefixes the following title: "The situation of Albion a British island." But as this far excelled the other British islands, the name of Albion in process of time was laid quite aside, and that of Britain used in its stead. By this name it was known in Pliny's time, and even in Caesar's. The origin of both these names is very uncertain. Some derive that of Albion from the Greek word alpēs, which, according to Fellus, signifies noble, the chalky cliffs that in several places rise on the southern coasts having that colour; while others pretend this name to have been borrowed from a giant supposed to have been the son of Neptune, and mentioned by several ancient authors. Some etymologists have recourse to the Hebrew, and others to the Phoenician; alon in the former signifying white, and alp in the latter signifying high. The origin of the name Britain is no less uncertain than that of Albion. Nennius and some other British writers derive it from Brutus, whom they likewise call Brito, the fifth in descent from the celebrated Aeneas. Others derive it from the British words pryd ean, that is, a white form, softened by degrees into Britannia. Camden derives it from the word britt, which, in the ancient language of the island, signifies painted; and tania, importing, in Greek, a region or country; so that the word Britannia, changed in process of time into Britannia, expresses what the Britons really were, that is, painted. Somner, disliking Camden's etymology, proposes another, viz. that the name Britain comes from brydo; signifying, in the British tongue, rage, and pointing out the violent motion of the sea that surrounds the island. Mr Whittaker, in his History of Manchester, derives it from the word britt, brie, brit, brix, or brig, which, he says, signifies divided or striped. Against the first of these etymologies it may be objected, that it is founded on a fable; and against the other four lies one common and unanswerable objection; which is, that the name of Britain was given to the island by foreigners, who could not borrow it from the British tongue, with which they were in all likelihood unacquainted. That the island received the name of Britain from foreigners is evident, since the natives never styled themselves Britons, nor their country Britain; their true name being Cambri, or Cambria; whence Cambria the name of Wales to this day among the Welsh.

The learned Bochart, speaking of the colonies and Bochart's language of the Phoenicians, offers a conjecture which opinion, most of our modern writers have adopted as the most natural. The Phoenicians, according to that writer, called this island, and some others near it, Barat Anac, that is, the land or country of tin or lead, and more contractedly Britannia; which name, passing from the Phoenicians to the Greeks, and from them to the Romans, might have been softened into that of Britannia and Britannia. That the Phoenicians first discovered these islands, which were afterwards by the Greeks called Cassiterides, and are proved by Camden to be our Scilly islands, appears both from Strabo and Pliny; of whom the former tells us, that the Phoenicians first brought tin from the Cassiterides, which they sold to the Greeks; but but kept the trade to themselves, and the place private; and the latter writes, that Mediocritus was the first who brought lead from the Cassiterides; where Bochart shows that we ought to read Melchertus, who is the Phoenician Hercules of Sanchoniatho, to whom that nation ascribe their first western discoveries. But, notwithstanding the care of the Phoenicians to conceal these islands, the Greeks at last discovered them; and gave them the name of Cassiterides, which, in the Greek tongue, signifies the same with Barat Ame in the Phoenician. This name was at first given to the islands of Scilly already mentioned, but by degrees communicated to all the others lying in the same sea. Thus Bochart. But after all, his opinion, however plausible in appearance, may be as foreign to the purpose as any of the rest; many instances of names given to new-discovered countries shewing that the origin of such names is not always owing to reason, but often to chance or caprice.

The general division of Britain is into Scotland, England, and Wales; for a particular description and history of which, see these articles.

In the year 1603, the kingdoms of Scotland and England fell under the dominion of one sovereign, by the accession of James VI. of Scotland to the throne of England also. He derived his title to the latter from being the grandson of Margaret eldest daughter to Henry VII. of that kingdom; and, on the failure of all the male line, his hereditary right remained incontestable. Queen Elizabeth, with her latest breath, had recognized him for her successor; so that few sovereigns ever ascended a throne with more approbation of their subjects, or greater hopes of a peaceable and happy reign.

Those hopes, however, were soon blasted; and the history of this monarch's reign consists of little else than a detail of disputes and contentions between him and his parliament. A particular and minute account of such transactions could afford very little entertainment; but it is of importance to know their origin, as they are to be reckoned the ultimate causes of those succeeding events which make so conspicuous a figure in the annals of Britain.

In those barbarous ages which preceded the period we are now entering upon, the human mind, enervated by superstition, and obscured by ignorance of every art and science, seemed to have given up all pretensions to liberty either religious or civil. Unlimited and uncontrolled despotism prevailed everywhere; and though England suffered less in this respect than almost any other nation, the many examples of arbitrary power exerted by her sovereigns, queen Elizabeth herself, James's immediate predecessor, not excepted, shew that they were very far from being then a free people. An incontestable proof of this, and an evidence how little restraint at that time the people could lay upon the authority of the sovereign, is, that the proceedings of parliament were accounted, even by themselves, of so little consequence, that they were not at the trouble to keep journals of them. It was not till the year 1607, four years after the accession of James, that parliamentary journals were kept, at the motion of Sir Edwin Sandys, a member of great authority in the house.

The proceedings of the parliament being at that time of so little consequence, it is no wonder that the sessions were not regular, or that little attention was paid to the choice or continuance of the members. In the reign of Elizabeth, and her predecessors, the sessions of parliament did not continue above the twelfth part so long as the vacations. It was then usual, after parliaments had been prolonged beyond one session, for the chancellor to exert a discretionary authority of issuing new writs to supply the place of any members whom he judged incapable of attending, either on account of their employment, sickness, or other impediment. No practice could be more dangerous to liberty than this, as it gave the chancellor, and consequently the sovereign, an opportunity of garbling at pleasure the representatives of the nation: yet so little was liberty at that time understood, that the commons, of their own accord, without the least court influence or intrigue, and contrary to some former votes of their own, confirmed the chancellor's power in this respect in the 23rd of Elizabeth. Nor did they proceed any farther in the assertion of their privileges, than to vote, that "during the sitting of parliament there do not, at any time, any writ go out for the chusing or returning any member without the warrant of the house."

Towards the end of the 16th or beginning of the Origin of 17th century, a great revolution took place, though in- the patriotic sensibly, throughout all Europe. Arts and sciences party, began to flourish, commerce and navigation were greatly extended, and learning of all kinds began to diffuse itself. By more enlarged views, the love of freedom began, in England especially, to take place in the breasts of most people of birth and education; and this was greatly promoted by an acquaintance with the ancient Greek and Latin historians. From the example of the republics of Greece and Rome, whose members had so often sacrificed their lives for the sake of liberty, a patriotic spirit began to arise; and a desire of circumfering the excessive prerogative and arbitrary proceedings of the crown began secretly to take place throughout the nation.

Nor was this desire unreasonable, or without a solid foundation. During the last years of queen Elizabeth's reign, the commerce, navigation, and number of seamen in England, had sensibly decayed. A remonstrance under from the Trinity-house in 1602 says, that, since 1588, the number of seamen and shipping had decayed about a third part. Every species of domestic industry was fettered by monopolies; and by exclusive companies, which are only another species of monopoly, almost all foreign trade, except that to France, was brought into the hands of a few rapacious engrossers, and all prospect of future improvement in commerce was for ever sacrificed to a little temporary advantage of the sovereign. These companies, though arbitrarily erected, had carried their privileges so far, that almost all the commerce of England centered in London; the customs of that port alone amounted to 110,000l. a-year; while those of all the kingdom beside amounted only to 17,000l.; nay, the whole trade of London was confined to about 200 citizens, who were easily enabled, by combining among themselves, to fix whatever price they pleased both on the exports and imports of the nation. Besides this, the subjects were burdened by wardships and purveyances. The latter was an old prerogative of the crown, by which the officers of the household were empowered to take, without consent of the owners, pro- provisions for the king's family, and carts and horses for the removal of his baggage, upon paying a stated price for them. The king had also a power of sending any person, without his consent, on whatever message he pleased; and thus he could easily force any individual to pay him whatever money he chose, rather than be sent out of the country on a disagreeable errand. Money extorted from individuals, by this or any other method, was called a benevolence.

There were some of the grievances under which the nation at this time laboured, and these the rising spirit of patriotism tended to redress. This disposition, however, the severe government of Elizabeth had confined within very narrow bounds: but when James succeeded to the throne; a foreign prince, less dreaded and less beloved; symptoms of a more free and independent genius immediately appeared. Happily James neither perceived the alteration, nor had sufficient capacity to check its early advances. He had established in his own mind a speculative system of absolute government, which few of his subjects, and none but traitors and rebels, he thought, would make any scruple to admit. He considered himself as entitled to equal prerogatives with other European sovereigns, not considering the military force with which their despotism was supported. The almost unlimited power which, for upwards of a century, had been exercised by the English sovereigns, he considered as due to royal birth and title, not to the prudence and spirit of those monarchs, or the conjunctures of the times. In his person, therefore, he imagined all legal power to be centered by an hereditary and a divine right; nay, so fully was he persuaded that he was the absolute proprietor of his subjects, that in his speech to the parliament in 1621, he told them, that he "wished them to have said that their privileges were derived from the grace and permission of him and his ancestors." And when the same parliament protested that "the liberties, franchises, privileges, and jurisdictions of parliament, are the ancient and undoubted birthright and inheritance of the subjects of England," he was so enraged, that fending for the journals of the commons, he with his own hand, before the council, tore out this protestation; and ordered his reasons to be inserted in the council-book.

Such were the opposite dispositions of the prince and parliament, at the commencement of the Scottish line; dispositions just beginning to exist and to appear in parliament, but thoroughly established, and openly avowed on the part of the king, throughout his whole reign.

The consequence of such opposite dispositions prevailing in the king and parliament was, that during this reign the prerogatives of the crown were violently and openly attacked; but the chief grounds of discontent were money, and religion. The king's high notions of the royal prerogative made him imagine he had a right to whatever sums he pleased to demand; and his profusion caused him to dissipate in a short time the scanty supplies he could extort from the parliament, who seem to have behaved as unreasonably on the one hand, as James himself did on the other. With regard to religious matters, the nation was at that time greatly infected with puritanism. Though the severities of Elizabeth had almost totally suppressed the Papists, it had been otherwise with the Puritans. So much had they increased by the very means which had diminished the number of catholics, that no less than 750 clergymen of that persuasion signed a petition to James on his accession. They hoped that the king, having received his education in Scotland, and having always professed an attachment to the church established there, would at least abate the rigour of the laws enacted against the Puritans, if he did not show them particular favour and encouragement. But in this they were mistaken. He had observed in their Scots brethren a violent turn towards republicanism, and a zealous attachment to civil liberty. In the capacities both of monarch and theologian, he had experienced the little complaisance they were disposed to shew him. They contended his commands; disputed his tenets; and to his face, before the whole people, censured his conduct and behaviour. This superiority assumed by the presbyterian clergy, the monarchical pride of James could never digest. Though he had been obliged while in Scotland to court their favour, he treasured up, on that account, the stronger resentment against them; and was determined to make them feel, in their turn, the weight of his authority. He therefore not only rejected the petition of the 750 clergymen abovementioned, but throughout his whole reign refused to relax in the least the severity of the laws against Protestant nonconformists, though very often petitioned in their favour by his parliaments.

The same principles which occasioned in James such an aversion to the Puritans, prompted him greatly to favour the episcopalians, and even the Papists, as being greater friends to despotism. In his youth he had been suspected of a bias towards the religion of the latter; and when he ascended the throne of England, it is certain he often endeavoured to procure some mitigation of the laws against them, if not an absolute toleration. But in this he was as constantly opposed by the parliament; and indeed the strong inclination shewn by James to establish episcopacy throughout every corner of his dominions, tended very much to alienate the minds of the generality of his subjects, especially in Scotland, entirely from him.

In May 1617, the king set out for Scotland, expressly with the design of establishing episcopacy in that kingdom. He did not, however, propose to abolish presbytery entirely, and set up absolute episcopacy in its room. He designed to content himself with establishing the royal authority above the ecclesiastical, and introducing some ceremonies into the public worship, such as kneeling at the sacrament, private communion, private baptism, confirmation of children, and the observance of Christmas, &c. But as his design was fully seen from the beginning, every advance towards episcopacy gave the greatest discontent, and those trivial ceremonies were rejected as so many mortal sins.

At this time the power of the Scots clergy was exceedingly great; and the gloomy enthusiastic spirit with which they were actuated, prompted them to exercise it in such a manner as to make their tyranny insupportable to those who were of a different way of thinking from themselves. Every ecclesiastical court possessed the power of excommunication; which was then attended with some very serious temporal consequences, besides the spiritual ones which were supposed to flow from it. The person excommunicated was shunned by every one as profane and impious; his whole estate during his life-time, and all his moveables for ever, were... forfeited to the crown. A sentence of excommunicatiom was sometimes pronounced in a summary manner, by any ecclesiastical court however inferior, against any person, whether he lived within the bounds of their jurisdiction or not. And by this means, the whole tyranny of the inquisition, though without its orders, was introduced into Scotland. But the clergymen were not satisfied with this unbounded authority in ecclesiastical matters; they assumed a censorial power over every part of administration; and, in all their sermons, and even prayers, mingling politics with religion, they inculcated the most seditious and turbulent principles. One Black, a minister of St Andrews, went so far as to pronounce, in one of his sermons, that all kings were the devil's children; and in his prayer for the queen he used these words, "We must pray for her for the fashion's sake, but we have no cause; she will never do us any good." Another minister preaching in the principal church of that capital, said, that the king was possessed with a devil; and, that one devil being expelled, seven worse had entered in his place. To which he added, that the subjects might lawfully rise, and take the sword out of the hands of their sovereign.

We can scarce wonder that James should be desirous of subjugating such rebellious and turbulent spirits as these; and, on the other hand, considering the extreme weakness of this monarch's understanding, and that he imagined himself able to manage not only furious religiousists, but even the most powerful foreign nations, with no other weapon than mere argumentation, we can as little wonder at his want of success. In short, so far was James from being able to establish his royal authority above the ecclesiastical, that he found himself unable to introduce a single ceremony. He returned therefore with the mortification not only of seeing his schemes entirely baffled with regard to Scotland, but of having disgusted even the few of that nation over whom religious prejudices did not prevail; for they, considering the ceremonies so much insulted on by the king as trivial and insignificant, could not help thinking the national honour sacrificed by a servile imitation of the modes of worship practised in England, and that their sovereign betrayed equal narrowness of mind, though in an opposite manner, with those he so much condemned.

The like bad success attended James when he attempted some opposition to the puritanical innovations in England. He had observed in his progress through that kingdom, that a judaical observance of the Sunday gained ground every day; and that by this means, under colour of religion, the people were debarred from such sports and recreations as contributed to their health as well as amusement. Imagining, therefore, that it would be easy to infuse cheerfulness into the dark spirit of devotion which then prevailed, he issued a proclamation to allow and encourage, after divine service, all kinds of lawful games and exercises; and this proclamation his subjects regarded as the utmost influence of profaneness and impiety. In 1620 a bill was brought in by the commons for the more strict observance of the Sunday, which they affected to call the Sabbath. One Shepherd opposed this bill, objected to the appellation of Sabbath as puritanical, and seems even to have justified sports on that day. For this he was expelled the house by the suggestion of Mr Pym; and in the sentence pronounced against Shepherd, his offence is said to be great, exorbitant, and unparalleled.

This sketch, we hope, will be sufficient to give the reader a tolerable idea of the situation of affairs during the reign of James I. We now proceed to give an account of the few remarkable transactions which occurred in this period.

The first thing of any consequence was a conspiracy Sir Walter formed, the very year of the king's accession to the throne, to displace him, and bellow the kingdom on Arabella Stuart, a near relation of James's, and equally descended from Henry VII. With regard to this conspiracy everything remains still mysterious, as it was at the time when the conspiracy itself was discovered. What renders it remarkable is the concern Sir Walter Raleigh was said to have in it; for which he was tried, condemned without sufficient proof, suffered 13 years imprisonment in the tower, and was afterwards executed out of complaisance to the Spaniards.

In 1605 was discovered the famous gunpowder treason, the anniversary of which discovery hath ever afterwards been celebrated with rejoicings. Its origin was as follows. On the accession of James, great expectations had been formed by the catholics that he would prove favourable to them, both as that was the religion of his mother, and that he himself had been suspected of a bias towards it in his youth. It is even pretended that he had entered into positive engagements to grant them a toleration as soon as he should mount the throne of England. Here, however, they found their hopes built on a false foundation. James, on all occasions, expressed his intention of executing strictly the laws enacted against them, and of persevering in all the rigorous measures of Queen Elizabeth. A plan of revenge was first thought of by one Catesby, a gentleman of good parts, and of an ancient family. He communicated his mind to Percy, a descendant of the house of Northumberland. The latter proposed to assassinate the king; but this seemed to Catesby very far from being adequate to their purpose. He told Percy, that the king would be succeeded by his children, who would also inherit his maxims of government. He told him, that, even though the whole royal family were destroyed, the parliament, nobility, and gentry, who were all infected with the same heresy, would raise another Protestant prince to the throne.

"To serve any purpose (says he), we must destroy, at one blow, the king, the royal family, the speech, lords and commons; and bury all our enemies in one common ruin. Happily they are all assembled on the first meeting of parliament; and afford us the opportunity of glorious and useful vengeance. Great preparations will not be requisite. A few of us may run a mine below the hall, in which they meet; and chusing the very moment when the king harangues both the houses, consign over to destruction those determined foes to all piety and religion. Mean while, we ourselves standing aloof, safe and unsuspected, shall triumph in being the instruments of divine wrath, and shall behold with pleasure those sacrificial walls, in which were passed the edicts for profanising our church and butchering her children, tossed into a thousand fragments; while their impious inhabitants, meditating perhaps still new persecutions against us, pass from flames..." flames above to flames below, there for ever to endure the torments due to their offences."

This terrible scheme being approved of, it was resolved to communicate it to a few more. One Thomas Winter was sent over to Flanders in quest of Fawkes, an officer in the Spanish service of approved zeal and courage. All the conspirators were bound by the most solemn oaths, accompanied with the sacrament; and to such a degree had superstition effaced every principle of humanity from their minds, that not one of them ever entertained the smallest compunction for the cruel massacre they were going to commit. Some indeed were startled at the thoughts of destroying a number of catholics who must necessarily be present as spectators, or attendants on the king, or as having seats in the house of peers. But Trefmond, a jesuit, and Garnet superior of that order in England, removed those scruples, by shewing that the interest of religion required in this case the sacrifice of the innocent with the guilty.

This happened in the spring and summer of 1604; when the conspirators also hired a house in Percy's name, adjoining to that in which the parliament was to assemble. Towards the end of that year they began to pierce through the wall of the house, in order to get in below that where the parliament was to sit. The wall was three yards thick, and consequently occasioned a great deal of labour. At length, however, they approached the other side, but were then startled by a noise for which they could not well account. Upon inquiry, they found that it came from a vault below the house of lords; that a magazine of coals had been kept there; and that the coals were then falling off, after which the vault would be let to the highest bidder. Upon this the vault was immediately hired by Percy; 36 barrels of powder lodged in it; the whole covered up with faggots and billets; the doors of the cellar boldly flung open; and every body admitted, as if it contained nothing dangerous.

Being now, as they thought, assured of success, the conspirators began to plan the remaining part of their enterprise. The king, the queen, and prince Henry, were expected to be present at the opening of the parliament. The duke, by reason of his tender age, would be absent, and it was resolved that Percy should seize or murder him. The princess Elizabeth, likewise a child, was kept at Lord Harrington's house in Warwickshire; and some others of the conspirators engaged to assemble their friends on pretence of a hunting match, when they were to seize that princess, and immediately proclaim her queen. The day so long wished for at last approached; and the dreadful secret, tho' communicated to more than 20 persons, had been religiously kept for near a year and an half; and nothing could be foreseen which could possibly prevent the success of their design. Ten days before the meeting of parliament, however, lord Monteagle, a catholic son to lord Morley, received the following letter, which had been delivered to his servant by an unknown hand. "My lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care of your preservation. Therefore I would advise you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift off your attendance on this parliament. For God and man have determined to punish the wickedness of this time. And think not lightly of this advertisement; but retire yourself into the country, where you may expect the event in safety. For, though there be no appearance of any stir, yet, I say, they shall receive a terrible blow this parliament; and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsel is not to be condemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no harm; for the danger is over as soon as you have burned this letter. And I hope God will give you the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you."—Though Monteagle imagined this letter to be only a ridiculous artifice to frighten him, he immediately carried it to lord Salisbury, secretary of state; who laid it before the king on his arrival in town a few days after.

The king looked upon the letter in a more serious light. From the manner in which it was wrote he concluded that some design was forming to blow up the parliament-house with gunpowder, and it was thought advisable to search the vaults below. The lord chamberlain, to whom this charge belonged, purposely delayed the search till the day before the meeting of parliament. He remarked those great piles of wood and faggots which lay in the vault under the upper house; and casting his eye upon Fawkes, who stood in a corner and puffed himself for Percy's servant, he took notice of that daring and determined courage which was conspicuous in his face, and so much distinguished this conspirator even amongst the other heroes in villany that were concerned in the scheme. Such a quantity of fuel, also, for one who lived so little in the town as Percy, appeared somewhat extraordinary; and, upon comparing all circumstances, it was resolved to make a further search. About midnight, Sir Thomas Knevett, a justice of peace, was sent with proper attendants; and before the door of the vault, finding Fawkes, who had just finished all his preparations, he immediately seized him, and, turning over the faggots, discovered the powder. The matches and every thing proper for setting fire to the train were taken in Fawkes's pocket; who seeing now no refuge but in boldness and despair, expressed the utmost regret that he had lost the opportunity of firing the powder at once, and of sweetening his own death by that of his enemies. For two or three days he displayed the same obstinate intrepidity; but, being confined in the tower, and the rack just shewn to him, his courage at last failed, and he made a full discovery of all the conspirators.

Cateby, Percy, and the other criminals, on hearing that Fawkes was arrested, hurried away to Warwickshire; where Sir Edward Digby, imagining that his confederates had succeeded, was already in arms, to seize the princess Elizabeth. She had escaped into Coventry; and they were obliged to put themselves in a posture of defence against the country-people, who were raised from all quarters and armed by the sheriffs. The conspirators, with all their attendants, never exceeded the number of 80 persons; and being surrounded on every side, could no longer have any hope either of prevailing or escaping. Having therefore confessed themselves, and received absolution, they boldly prepared for death, and resolved to sell their lives as dear as possible. But even this miserable consolation was denied them. Some of their powder took fire, and disabled them from defending themselves. The people then rushed in upon them. Percy and Cateby... tesby were killed with one shot. Digby, Rookwood, Winter, and others, being taken prisoners, were tried, confessed their guilt, and died, as well as Garnet, by the hands of the common executioner. The lords Stourton and Mordaunt, two catholics, were fined, the former of 4000l., the latter of 10,000l. by the star-chamber; because their absence from parliament had occasioned a suspicion of their being made acquainted with the conspiracy. The earl of Northumberland was fined 30,000l. and detained several years a prisoner in the tower; because, not to mention other grounds of suspicion, he had admitted Percy into the number of gentlemen pensioners, without his taking the requisite oaths.

In 1612, James appears in his most advantageous point of view, namely, as legislator of Ireland, and the person who undertook to civilize the barbarous inhabitants of that kingdom, and to render their subjection durable and useful to the crown of England. In this work, James proceeded by a steady, regular, and well-concerted plan. He began with abolishing the ancient Irish customs which supplied the place of laws, and which were exceedingly barbarous and absurd. By the Brehon law, every crime however enormous was punished not with death, but by a fine. Murder itself was compensated in this way. Every one had a value affixed to him, called his eric; and whoever was able to pay this, might kill him when he pleased. As for such slight offences as oppressing, extortion, or other things of that nature, no penalty was affixed to them, nor could any redress for them ever be obtained. By the custom of gavelkind, upon the death of any person, his land was divided among all the males of the sept or family, both bastard and legitimate; and after partition made, if any of the sept died, his portion was not shared out among his sons; but the chieftain at his direction made a new partition of all the lands belonging to that sept, and gave every one his share: as no man, by reason of this custom, enjoyed the fixed property of any land; to build, cultivate, or improve, must have been so much lost labour. These chieftains were established by election, or, more properly speaking, by force and violence. Their authority was absolute; and, notwithstanding certain lands were assigned to the office, its chief profit resulted from exactions, dues, assessments, for which there was no fixed law, and which were levied at pleasure.

After abolishing these customs, and substituting English law in their place; James having taken all the natives under his protection, and declared them free citizens, proceeded to govern them by a regular administration, military as well as civil. A sufficient army was maintained, its discipline inspected, and its pay transmitted from England, in order to prevent the soldiery from preying upon the country, as had been usual in former reigns. When O'Doghartie raised an insurrection, a reinforcement was sent over, and the rebellion immediately extinguished. All minds being first quieted by an universal indemnity, circuits were established, justice administered, and crimes of every kind severely punished. As the Irish had been universally engaged in a rebellion against Elizabeth, a renunciation of all the rights formerly granted them to separate jurisdictions was rigorously exacted; a relinquishment of private estates was even required; and when they were restored, the proprietors received them under such conditions as might prevent all future tyranny and oppression over the common people. The whole province of Ulster having fallen to the crown by the attainder of rebels, a company was established in London for planting new colonies in that fertile country. The property was divided into moderate shares, the largest not exceeding 2000 acres: Tenants were brought over from England and Scotland: The Irish were removed from the hills and fastnesses, and settled in the open country: Husbandry and the arts were taught them; and by these means Ulster, from being the most wild and disorderly province in Ireland, soon became the best cultivated and most civilized.

This year was also remarkable for the death of Henry Death of prince of Wales, who died suddenly on the 6th of November, not without strong suspicions of poison, for prince of which the king himself was blamed. On opening his body, however, no symptoms of poison appeared; but his death diffused an universal grief throughout the nation, he being reckoned a prince of extraordinary accomplishments.

The marriage of the princess Elizabeth with Frederic elector palatine, which was celebrated February 14th 1613, served to dissipate the grief which had arisen on account of prince Henry's death. But this marriage, in the event, proved unhappy to the king as well as his son-in-law. The elector, trusting to so great an alliance, engaged in enterprizes beyond his strength; and James, not being able, and indeed perhaps not willing, to assist him in his distress, lost entirely what remained of the affections of his people.

These had consequences did not begin to appear till The elector the year 1619. At that time the states of Bohemia chosen king having taken arms against the emperor Matthias, in defence of the Protestant religion, and continued their revolt against his successor Ferdinand II., and being alarmed at his mighty preparations against them, made an offer of their crown to the elector palatine. To this they were induced by the greatness of his connections, as being son-in-law to the king of England, and nephew to prince Maurice, whose authority in the United Provinces was almost absolute; and the young palatine stimulated by ambition, without consulting either James or Maurice, whose opposition he foresaw, immediately accepted the offer, and marched all his forces into Bohemia, in support of his new subjects.

The affairs of the new king were not long of coming to an unfortunate crisis. It was known almost at one time in England, that Frederic being defeated in the great and decisive battle of Prague, had fled with his family into Holland; and that Spinola the Spanish general had invaded the palatinate, where meeting with little resistance, except from one body of 2,400 Englishmen commanded by the brave Sir Horace Vere, had in a little time reduced almost the whole principality. In 1621, the ban of the empire was published against the unfortunate elector, and the execution of it was committed to the duke of Bavaria. The upper palatinate was in a little time conquered by that prince; and measures were taken in the empire for bestowing on him the electoral dignity of which the palatinate was deprived. Frederic was now obliged to live with his numerous family, in poverty and distress, either in Holland, or at Sedan, with his uncle the the duke of Bouillon; and the new conquests of the catholics throughout all Germany were attended with persecutions against the Protestants.

At this news the religious zeal of the English was inflamed to the highest degree; and they would have plunged headlong into a war with the house of Austria, without reflecting in the least on the consequences that might ensue. The sufferings of their Protestant brethren in Germany were the only objects of consideration, and the neutrality and inactive spirit shown by James were loudly exclaimed against. But though James might have defended his pacific measures by very plausible arguments, it is certain that some of his motives were the most ridiculous that can be imagined. Such was the opinion that he himself entertained of his own wisdom, that he imagined himself capable of disarming hostile nations by dint of argument; and that the whole power of Austria, though not awed by the power of England, would submit to his arbitration, merely out of respect to his virtue and moderation.—So much also he was wedded to his opinion concerning the prerogative of kings, that he imagined, wherever there was a contention between any sovereign and his subjects, the latter behaved always to be in the wrong; and for this reason, from the very first he had denied his son-in-law the title of king of Bohemia, and forbidden him to be prayed for in the churches under that appellation. Besides these reasons, James was on another account extremely averse to come to a rupture with Spain. He had entertained an opinion peculiar to himself, which was, that any alliance below that of a king was unworthy a prince of Wales; and he never would allow any princess but a daughter of France or Spain to be mentioned as a match for his son. This piece of pride, which really implied meanness, as if he could have received honour from any alliance, gave Spain an opportunity of managing this monarch in his most important concerns. With a view to engage him to a neutrality with regard to the succession of Cleves, the eldest daughter of the king of Spain had been indirectly offered during the life of prince Henry. The bait, however, did not then take; James, in consequence of his alliance with the Dutch, marched 4000 men to the assistance of the Protestants, by which means the succession was secured to the Protestant line. In 1618, Gondomar the Spanish ambassador made offer of the king's second daughter to prince Charles; and, that he might render the temptation irresistible to the necessitous James, gave hopes of an immense fortune that should attend the princess. Upon this match James had built great hopes, not only of relieving his own necessities, but of recovering the palatinate for his son-in-law; which last, he imagined, might be procured from the mere motive of friendship and personal attachment.

This last step was equally disagreeable to the commons with the rest; and, joined to the other pieces of James's conduct, at last blew into a flame the contention which had so long subsisted between their sovereign and them. On the 14th of November 1621, the commons framed a remonstrance which they intended to carry to the king. They represented, that the enormous growth of the Austrian power threatened the liberties of Europe; that the progress of the Catholic religion in England bred the most melancholy apprehensions lest it should again acquire an ascendant in the kingdom; that the indulgence of his majesty towards the professors of that religion had encouraged their insolence and temerity; that the uncontrolled conquests made by the Austrian family in Germany raised mighty expectations in the English Papists; but above all, that the Spanish match elevated them so far as to hope for an entire toleration, if not a final re-establishment, of their religion. They therefore intreated his majesty, that he would immediately undertake the defence of the palatine, and maintain it by force of arms; that he would turn his sword against Spain, whose armies and treasures were the chief support of the Catholic interest in Europe; that he would enter into no negociation for the marriage of his son but with a Protestant princess; that the children of Popish recusants should be taken from their parents, and committed to the care of Protestant teachers and schoolmasters; and that the fines and confiscations to which the Catholics by law were liable, should be levied with the utmost severity.

The king, who was then at Newmarket, hearing of the intended remonstrance, wrote a letter to the speaker, in which he sharply rebuked the house for debating on matters far above their reach and capacity; and he strictly forbade them to meddle with anything that regarded his government, or deep matters of state, and especially not to touch on his son's marriage with the Spanish princess. Upon this the commons framed a new remonstrance, in which they asserted their right of debating on all matters of government, and that they possessed entire freedom of speech in their debates. The king replied, that their remonstrance was more like a denunciation of war, than an address of dutiful subjects; that their pretension to inquire into all state affairs without exception, was such a plenitude as none of their ancestors, even during the reign of the weakest princes, had ever pretended to; that public transactions depended on a complication of views and intelligence, with which they were entirely unacquainted; that they could not better show their wisdom, as well as duty, than by keeping within their proper sphere; and that in any business which depended on his prerogative, they had no title to interpose with their advice, unless when he pleased to ask it, &c. The commons in return framed the protestation already mentioned, which the king tore out of their journals, and soon after dissolved the parliament. The leading members of the house, Sir Edward Coke and Sir Robert Phillips, were committed to the tower; three others, Selden, Pym, and Mally, to other prisons; and, as a lighter punishment, some others were sent into Ireland to execute the king's business. Sir John Savile, however, a powerful man in the house of commons, and a zealous opposer of the court, was made comptroller of the household, a privy counsellor, and soon after a baron. This event is memorable; as being the first instance in the English history, of any king's advancing a man on account of parliamentary interest, and of opposition to his measures.

This breach between the king and parliament soon after became a general subject of discourse, and the factions every man began to indulge himself in reasonings and inquiries concerning matters of state; and the factions which commenced in parliament were propagated through... Throughout the nation. In vain did James by reiterated proclamations forbid discourses of this kind. Such proclamations, if they had any effect, served rather to inflame the curiosity of the public. In every company or society the late transactions became the subject of argument and debate; some taking the side of monarchy, others of liberty; and this was the origin of the two parties since known by the names of Whigs and Tories.

For five years, James continued the dupe of the court of Spain. Though firmly resolved to contract no alliance with a heretic, the king of Spain had continued to procrastinate, and invent one excuse after another, while he pretended to be very willing to conclude the match. At last the king of England, finding out what was really the matter, resolved to remove that obstacle if possible. He issued public orders for discharging all Popish recusants who were imprisoned; and it was daily apprehended that he would forbid, for the future, the execution of the penal laws against them. For this conduct he was obliged to apologize, and even pretend that it was done in order to procure from foreign princes a toleration for the Protestants; the severity of the English laws against catholics, he said, having been urged as a reason against throwing any favour to Protestants residing in catholic kingdoms.

These concessions in favour of the catholics, however ill relished by his subjects, at last obtained James's end with regard to the marriage. The earl of Bristol, ambassador at the court of Spain, a minister of vigilance and penetration, and who had formerly opposed the alliance with catholics, being now fully convinced of the Spanish sincerity, was ready to congratulate the king on the completion of his projects. The Spanish princess is represented as very accomplished; she was to bring with her a fortune of 600,000l.; and, what was more, not only Bristol considered this match as an infallible prognostic of the palatine's restoration, but the Spaniards themselves did the same. All things being therefore agreed upon between the parties, nothing was wanting but the dispensation from Rome, which might be considered as a matter of mere formality. The king exulted in his pacific counsels, and boasted of his superior sagacity and penetration; when all his flattering prospects were blasted by the temerity of the duke of Buckingham, who governed both court and nation with almost unlimited sway.

This nobleman had suddenly been raised to the highest honours. Though possessed of some accomplishments of a courtier, he was utterly devoid of every talent of a minister; but at once partook of the insolence which attends a fortune newly acquired, and the impetuosity which belongs to persons born in high stations, and unacquainted with opposition. Among those who had experienced the arrogance of this overgrown favourite, the prince of Wales himself had not been entirely spared; and a great coldness, if not enmity, had for that reason taken place between them. Buckingham, being desirous of putting an end to this coldness, and at the same time envious of the great reputation of the earl of Bristol, persuaded the prince to undertake a journey to Madrid; which, he said, would be an unexpected gallantry; would equal all the fictions of Spanish romance; and, uniting the amorous and enterprising character of that nation, must immediately introduce him to the princess under the agreeable character of a devoted lover and daring adventurer. Little persuasion was necessary to prevail with prince Charles to undertake this journey; and the impetuosity of Buckingham having extorted a consent from James, our two adventurers set out, prince Charles as the knight-errant, and Buckingham as the squire. They travelled through France in disguise, assuming the names of Jack and Tom Smith. They went to a hall at Paris, where the prince first saw the princess Henrietta whom he afterwards married, who was then in the bloom of youth and beauty, and with whom the novellists of that time say he then fell in love. On their arrival at Madrid, every body was surprised by a step so little usual among great princes. The Spanish monarch made Charles a visit, expressed the utmost gratitude for the confidence he reposed in him, and made warm protestations of a correspondent confidence and friendship. He gave him a golden key which opened all his apartments, that the prince might, without any introduction, have access to him at all hours; he took the left hand of him on every occasion, except in the apartments assigned to Charles; for there, he said, the prince was at home: Charles was introduced into the palace with the same pomp and ceremony which attend the kings of Spain on their coronation; the council received public orders to obey him as the king himself: Olivarez too, the prime minister, though a grandee of Spain, who has the right of being covered before his own king, would not put on his hat in the prince's presence: all the prisons of Spain were thrown open, and all the prisoners received their freedom, as if an event the most honourable and most fortunate had happened to the monarchy; and every sumptuary law with regard to apparel was suspended during prince Charles's residence in Spain. The infantia, however, was only shown to her lover in public; the Spanish ideas of decency being so strict, as not to allow any farther intercourse till the arrival of the dispensation. The point of honour was carried so far by these generous people, that no attempt was made, on account of the advantage they had acquired by having the prince of Wales in their power, to impose any harder conditions of treaty: their pious zeal only prompted them on one occasion to define more conciliations in the religious articles; but, on the opposition of Bristol, they immediately desisted. The Pope, however, hearing of Charles's arrival in Madrid, tacked some new clauses to the dispensation; and it became necessary to transmit the articles to London, that the king might ratify them. This treaty, which Articles of was made public, consisted of several articles, chiefly regarding the exercise of the catholic religion by the infantia; and, among these, nothing could reasonably be found fault with, except one article, in which the king promised that the children should be educated by the princess till they were ten years of age; which undoubtedly was inflicted upon with a view of seasoning their minds with catholic principles. But, besides this public treaty, there were some private articles sworn to by James, which could not have been made public without grievous murmurs. A suspension of the penal laws against the English catholics was promised, as likewise a repeal of them in parliament, and a toleration for the exercise of that religion in private houses. Meanwhile Gregory XV. who granted the dispensation, died; and Urban VIII. was chosen in his place. Upon this event, the nuncio refused to deliver the dispensation. The modest, reserved, and decent behaviour of Charles, together with his unparallelled confidence in them, and the romantic gallantry he had practised with regard to their princesses, had endeared him to the whole court of Madrid. But in the same proportion that Charles was beloved and esteemed, was Buckingham despised and hated. His follies of passion; his indecent freedoms with the prince; his dissolute pleasures; his arrogant impetuous temper, which he neither could nor would disguise; were to the Spaniards the objects of peculiar aversion. They lamented the infant's fate, who might be approached by a man whose temerity seemed to respect no laws divine or human. Buckingham, on the other hand, sensible how odious he was become to the Spaniards, and dreading the influence which that nation would naturally acquire after the arrival of the infanta, resolved to employ all his credit in order to prevent the marriage. By what arguments he could prevail on the prince to offer such an insult to the Spanish nation, from whom he had received such generous treatment; by what colours he could disguise the ingratitude and imprudence of such a measure; these are totally unknown to us; certain it is, however, that when the prince left Madrid, he was firmly determined, in opposition to his most solemn promises, to break off the treaty with Spain. On their arrival at London, therefore, the prince and Buckingham assumed the entire direction of the negotiation; and it was their business to seek for pretences by which they could give a colour to their intended breach of treaty. At last, after many fruitless artifices were employed to delay or prevent the epoufals, Bristol received positive orders not to deliver the proxy which had been left in his hands, or to finish the marriage, till security was given for the full restitution of the palatinate. Philip understood this language; but being determined to throw the whole blame of the rupture on the English, he delivered into Bristol's hand a written promise, by which he bound himself to procure the restoration of the palatinate either by persuasion or by every other possible means; and when he found that this concession gave no satisfaction, he ordered the infanta to lay aside the title of princess of Wales, which she bore after the arrival of the dispensation from Rome, and to drop the study of the English language; and as he knew that such rash counsels as now governed the court of England would not stop at the breach of the marriage-treaty, he immediately ordered preparations for war to be made throughout all his dominions.

A match for prince Charles was soon after negotiated with Henrietta, daughter of the great Henry IV. and this met with much better success than the former. However, the king had not the same allurements in prosecuting this match as the former, the portion promised him being much smaller; but, willing that his son should not be altogether disappointed of a bride, as the king of France demanded only the same terms that had been offered to the court of Spain, James thought proper to comply. In an article of this treaty of marriage, it was stipulated, that the education of the children till the age of 13 should belong to the mother; and this probably gave that turn towards popery which has since proved the ruin of the unfortunate family of Stewart.

James now, being deprived of every other hope of relieving his son-in-law but by force of arms, declared war against Spain and the emperor, for the recovery of Spain, the palatinate; 6000 men were sent over into Holland to assist prince Maurice in his schemes against those powers; the people were everywhere elated at the courage of their king, and were satisfied with any war which was to exterminate the Papists. This army was followed by another consisting of 12,000 men, commanded by count Mansfeldt; and the court of France promised its assistance. But the English were disappointed in all their views: the troops being embarked at Dover, upon failing to Calais, found no orders for their admission. After waiting for some time, they were obliged to fail towards Zealand, where no proper measures were yet consulted for their disembarkation. Meanwhile, a pestilential distemper crept among them, so long cooped up in narrow vessels: half the army died while on board; and the other half, weakened by sickness, appeared too small a body to march into the palatinate; and thus ended this ill-concerted and fruitless expedition. Whether this misfortune had any effect on the king's constitution or not, is uncertain; but he was soon after seized with a tertian ague, which put an end to his life on the 27th of March 1625, after having lived 59 years, and reigned over England 22, and over Scotland almost as long as he had lived.

James was succeeded by his son Charles I., who ascended the throne amidst the highest praises and expressions of his subjects for what was perhaps the most blame-worthy action of his life, namely, his breaking off the match with the Spanish princesses, and procuring the rupture with the house of Austria. Being young and unexperienced, he regarded these praises as sincere; for his people and therefore was so impatient to assemble the great council of the nation, that he would gladly, for the sake of dispatch, have called together the same parliament which sat under his father, and which lay at that time under prorogation. But being told that such a measure would appear unusual, he issued writs for summoning a new parliament on the 7th of May; and it was not without regret that the arrival of the princess Henrietta, whom he had espoused by proxy, obliged him to delay, by repeated prorogations, their meeting till the 18th of June, when they assembled at Westminster for the dispatch of business.

Charles inherited from his father, great distresses for his character, very high notions of the royal prerogative, and a violent attachment to episcopacy. As to his character, he seems to have been obstinate, though not refractory; and therefore, though it was scarce ever possible to make him give up his point, he never could carry on his designs with that spirit which was necessary for their their success. In other respects, he appears to have possessed every virtue requisite to constitute the character of a good man. At present believing his subjects to be in perfect friendship with him as he was with them, he resolved that their bounty to him should be entirely unasked, and the genuine effect of mutual confidence and regard. Accordingly, his discourse to the parliament was full of simplicity and cordiality; he lightly mentioned the occasion he had for supply. He employed no intrigue to influence the suffrages of the members. He would not even allow the officers of the crown, who had seats in the house, to mention any particular sum which he had occasion for; but trusted entirely to the wisdom and affection of his parliament, who perfectly well knew his circumstances.

It is almost impossible to read without indignation an account of the return made by the commons to this generous behaviour of their sovereign. They knew, that all the money granted by the last parliament had been expended on military and naval preparations; and that great anticipations were likewise made on the revenues of the crown. They were not ignorant that Charles was loaded with a debt contracted by his father, who had borrowed money both from foreign princes, and from his own subjects. They had learned by experience, that the public revenues could with difficulty maintain the dignity of the crown, even under the ordinary charges of government. They were sensible that the present war was, very lately, the result of their own unfortunate applications and intrigues, and that they had solemnly engaged to support their sovereign in the management of it. They were acquainted with the difficulty of military enterprises directed against the whole house of Austria; against the king of Spain, possessed of the greatest riches and most extensive dominions of any prince in Europe; against the emperor Ferdinand, hitherto the most fortunate monarch of the age, who had subdued and astonished Germany by the rapidity of his victories. Deep impressions they saw must be made by the British sword, and a vigorous offensive war be waged against these mighty potentates, ere they would resign the palatinate which they had now fully subdued, and which they held in secure possession by its being surrounded with all their other territories. To answer, therefore, all these great and important ends; to satisfy their young king in the first request he made them; to prove their sense of the many royal virtues, particularly economy, with which Charles was endued; the commons thought proper to confer on the king a supply of £12,000 l. To search for the reasons of such an extravagant piece of conduct would be needless; it is impossible they could be good.

It is not to be supposed that Charles, or any person of common sense, could be infensible of such treatment as this; he behaved, however, with great moderation. He represented in the most explicit manner the necessity there was for a large supply; he even condescended to use intreacies: he said that this request was the first he had ever made them; that he was young, and in the commencement of his reign; and if he now met with kind and dutiful usage, it would endear him to the use of parliaments, and would forever preserve an entire harmony between him and his people.—To these reasons and intreacies, the commons remained inexorable; they even refused the addition of two fifteenths to the former supply. Instead of this, they renewed their ridiculous complaints against the growth of popery, which was now their only grievance. They shewed their intolerant spirit by demanding a strict execution of the penal laws against the catholics; and remonstrated against some late pardons granted to priests. They attacked Montague, one of the king's chaplains, on account of a moderate book which he had lately composed, and which, to their great disgust, saved virtuous catholics as well as other christians from eternal torments. Charles gave them a gracious and complaisant answer; but firmly resolved to abate somewhat of the rigorous laws against that unfortunate party, which his engagements with France absolutely required. No measure, however, throughout the whole reign of this prince, was more disagreeable to his bigoted subjects, or by its consequences more fatal to himself, than this resolution. The puritans had continued to gain ground during the whole reign of James, and now formed the majority of the house of commons; in consequence of which, petitions were presented to the king for replacing such able clergymen as had been silenced for want of conformity to the ceremonies. They also enacted laws for the strict observance of Sunday, which they affected to call the sabbath, and which they sanctified with the most melancholy indolence; and it is worthy of notice, that the different appellations of Sunday and sabbath were at that time known symbols of the different parties.—In consequence of this behaviour in Charles's first parliament, it was dissolved on the 12th of August 1625; and a new one called on Feb. 6th 1626.

During this interval, Charles had been obliged to borrow from his subjects on privy-seals; the advantage to raise money of which was but a small compensation for the disquiet it occasioned. By means, however, of that supply, and some other expedients, he was enabled to equip his fleet, tho' with difficulty. It was designed against Spain, but performed nothing worth notice, and its bad success increased the clamours against the court.

Charles's second parliament immediately adopted the same views with the former; however, they voted him a supply of three subsidies (£168,000 l.) and three fifteenths; but the passing this vote into a law was reserved until the end of the session, that in the meantime they might have an opportunity of forcing the king to make what concessions they pleased. This harsh and undutiful conduct was greatly resented by Charles; but he found himself obliged to submit, and wait the event with patience. In the mean time they attacked the duke of Buckingham, who was become generally obnoxious; and he was also impeached by the earl of Bristol, on account of his conduct with regard to the Spanish negociation. The earl's impeachment, however, was entirely overlooked, and the commons were able to prove nothing otherwise of any consequence against him. The king imagining that Buckingham's greatest crime was the having been so much in favour with his sovereign, commanded the house expressly not to meddle with his minister and servant, but to finish in a few days the bill they had begun for the subsidies; otherwise they must expect to sit no longer.

Suggestions of this kind had a bad effect; and when the king proceeded further to throw into prison two members members of the house who had managed the impeachment against Buckingham, the commons declared that they would proceed no further in business till they had satisfaction in their privileges. Charles alleged as the reason of this measure, certain seditious expressions, which, he said, had, in their accusation of the duke, dropped from these members. Upon inquiry it appeared that no such expressions had been used, and the members were accordingly released. Soon after, the house of lords, moved by the example of the commons, claimed liberty for the earl of Arundel, who had been lately confined in the tower; and after many fruitless evasions the king was obliged, though somewhat ungracefully, to comply.

The next attack made by the commons would have proved decisive, had it succeeded, and would have reduced the king to an absolute dependence on his parliament. They were preparing a remonstrance against the levying of tonnage and poundage without consent of parliament. This article, together with the new impositions laid on merchandise by James, constituted near one half of the crown revenues; and after having gained this point, they were to petition the king, which then would have been the same thing with commanding him, to remove Buckingham from his presence and councils. The king, however, being alarmed at the yoke they were preparing for him, dissolved his parliament a second time, June 15th 1626.

Charles having thus made such a breach with his parliament as there was no hopes of repairing, was obliged to have recourse to the exercise of every branch of his prerogative in order to supply himself with money. A commission was openly granted to compound with the catholics, and agree for dispensing with the penal laws enacted against them; and by this expedient the king, indeed, filled his coffers, but gave universal disgust to his subjects. From the nobility he desired affluence: from the city he required a loan of 100,000l. The former contributed slowly: but the latter, covering themselves under many pretences and excuses, gave at last a flat denial. In order to equip a fleet, a distribution by order of the council was made to all the maritime towns; and each of them was required, with the affluence of the adjacent counties, to arm as many vessels as were appointed them. The city of London was rated at 20 ships: and this is the first appearance, in Charles's reign, of ship-money; a taxation which had once been imposed by Elizabeth, but which, when carried some steps farther by Charles, produced the most violent discontentments.—These methods of supply were carried on with some moderation, till news arrived of the king of Denmark being totally defeated by count Tilly the Imperial general; but money then becoming more than ever necessary, it was suggested in council, that the most speedy, equal, and convenient method of supply was by a general loan from the subject, according as every man was assessed in the rolls of the last subsidy. That precise sum was required which each would have paid, had the vote of four subsidies been passed into a law: care, however, was taken, that the sums thus exacted were not to be called subsidies, but loans; but it was impossible to avoid observing, that thus the liberty of the subject was entirely destroyed, and all parliaments rendered at once superfluous.

Many people throughout England refused these loans, and some were even active in encouraging their neighbours to insist upon their common rights and privileges. By warrant of the council, these were thrown into prison. Most of them patiently submitted to confinement, or applied by petition to the king, who commonly released them. Five gentlemen, however, Sir Thomas Darnell, Sir John Corbet, Sir Walter Earl, Sir John Heweningham, and Sir Edmond Hambden, demanded release, not as a favour from the court, but as their due by the laws of their country. No particular cause was assigned for their commitment. The special command of the king and council alone was pleaded. And it was alleged, that by law this was not sufficient reason for refusing bail or releasement to the prisoners. The question was brought to a solemn trial before the court of king's bench; and the whole kingdom was attentive to the issue of the cause. By the debates on this subject it appeared, that personal liberty had been secured by no less than six different statutes, and by an article in magna charta itself. It appeared, that, in times of turbulence and sedition, the princes infringed upon these laws; and of this also many examples were produced. The difficulty then lay to determine when such violent measures were necessary; but of that the court pretended to be the supreme judge. As it was legal, therefore, that these five gentlemen should plead the statute, by which they might demand bail, so it was expedient in the court to remand them to prison, without determining on the necessity of taking bail for the present. This was a cruel evasion of justice; and, in fact, satisfied neither party. The court insisted that no bail could be taken; the country exclaimed that the prisoners ought to be set free.

While the king was thus embroiled with his parliament at home, and with powerful nations abroad, he rashly engaged in a war with France, a kingdom with which he had but lately formed the most natural alliance. All historians agree that this war proceeded from the rivalry of the duke of Buckingham and cardinal Richlieu; both of whom were in love with the queen of France; and an inveterate enmity being thus produced between these favourites, they resolved to involve their respective nations in the dispute. However this be, war was declared against France; and Charles was taught to hope, that hostilities with that kingdom would be the surest means of procuring tranquillity at home.—The success of this war was proportionable to the wisdom with which it was commenced. Buckingham was appointed commander; and he being entirely unacquainted both with sea and land service, managed matters so ill, that he lost two thirds of his army, and returned in total discredit both as an admiral and general.

The discontentments in England now rose to such an height, that there was reason to apprehend an insurrection or rebellion. Charles was also reduced to the greatest distress for want of money. That which he had levied by virtue of his prerogative came in very slowly, and it was dangerous to renew the experiment on account of the ill humour of the nation in general. A third parliament therefore was called March 17th 1628; whom Charles plainly told at the beginning of session, that "if they should not do their duties, in contributing to the necessities of the state, he must, in discharge of his conscience, use those other means which..." God had put into his hands, in order to save that which the follies of some particular men may otherwise put in danger." This parliament behaved in a much more reasonable manner than either of the two former ones. The nation was now really aggrieved by the late arbitrary proceedings. They began with voting against arbitrary imprisonments and forced loans; after which, five subsidies (£80,000) were voted to the king. With this sum, though much inferior to his wants, Charles declared himself well satisfied; and even tears of affection started in his eye when informed of this concession: the commons, however, resolved not to pass this vote into a law, before they had obtained from the king a sufficient security that their liberties should be no longer violated as they had formerly been. They resolved to frame a law, which they were to call a petition of right, in which they should collect all the arbitrary exertions of the prerogative which Charles had exposed to their view, and these they were to assault at once by their petition. The grievances now complained of were, forced loans, benevolences, taxes without consent of parliament, arbitrary imprisonments, billeting soldiers, and martial law. They pretended not, as they affirmed, to any unusual powers or privileges; nor did they intend to infringe the royal prerogative in any respect: they aimed only at securing those rights and privileges derived from their ancestors.

The king, on his part, now began plainly to show that he aimed at nothing less than absolute power. This reasonable petition he did his utmost to evade, by repeated messages to the house, in which he always offered his royal word that there should be no more infringements on the liberty of the subject. These messages, however, had no effect on the commons: they knew how insufficient such promises were, without further security; and therefore the petition at last passed both houses, and nothing was wanting but the royal assent to give it the force of a law. The king accordingly came to the house of peers, sent for the commons, and being seated in the chair of state, the petition was read to him. In answer to it, he said, "The king willeth, that right be done according to the laws and customs of the realm, and that the statutes be put into execution; that his subjects may have no cause to complain of any wrong or oppression contrary to their just rights and liberties, to the preservation whereof he holds himself in conscience as much obliged as of his own prerogative."

This equivocal answer was highly resented. The commons returned in very ill humour. Their indignation would undoubtedly have fallen on the unfortunate catholics, had not their petition against them already received a satisfactory answer. To give vent to their present wrath, therefore, they fell on Dr Manwaring, who had preached a sermon, and, at the special command of the king, printed it; which was now found to contain doctrines subversive of all civil liberty. It taught, that the property was commonly lodged in the subject, yet, whenever any exigency required supply, all property was transferred to the sovereign; that the consent of parliament was not necessary for the imposition of taxes; and that the divine laws required compliance with every demand, however irregular, which the prince should make upon his subjects. For these doctrines Manwaring was sentenced to be imprisoned during the pleasure of the house; to be fined £1000 to the king; make submission and acknowledgment for his offence; be suspended three years; be incapable of holding any ecclesiastical dignity or secular office; and that his book be called in and burnt. No sooner, however, was the session ended, than Manwaring received a pardon, and was promoted to a living of considerable value. Some years afterwards he was promoted to the see of St Asaph. At last, the king, seeing it was impossible to carry his point, yielded to the importunities of parliament. He came to the house of peers, and pronouncing the usual form of words, "Let it be law as is desired," gave full sanction and authority to the petition. The house rejoiced with acclamations, and the bill for five subsidies immediately passed.

The commons, however, were not yet satisfied; they began again to attack Buckingham, against whom they were implacable: they also asserted, that the levying of tonnage and poundage without consent of parliament was a palpable violation of the ancient liberties of the people, and an open infringement of the petition of right so lately granted. The king, in order to prevent a recurrence on that subject, suddenly prorogued the parliament, on June 26th, 1628.

The commons soon got rid of their enemy Buckingham; who was murdered, on the 23rd of August this same year, by one Felton who had formerly served under him as a lieutenant. The king did not appear much concerned at his death, but retained an affection for his family throughout his whole lifetime. He desired also that Felton might be tortured, in order to extort from him a discovery of his accomplices; but the judges declared, that though that practice had been formerly very common, it was altogether illegal.

In 1629, the usual contentions between the king and his parliament continued. The great article on which the commons broke with their sovereign, and which finally created in him a disgust at all parliaments, was poundage. Their claims with regard to tonnage and poundage. The dispute was, whether this tax could be levied without consent of parliament or not. Charles, supported by multitudes of precedents, maintained that it might; and the parliament, in consequence of their petition of right, asserted that it could not. The commons were resolved to support their rights; and the disputes concerning tonnage and poundage went hand in hand with some theological controversies; particularly concerning Arminianism, which the Puritans, which now formed the majority of the nation, opposed with the greatest violence; and which consequently crept in among those who professed episcopacy, where it hath still maintained its ground more than in any other party.

The commons began with summoning before them the officers of the custom-house, to give an account by what authority they had seized the goods of those merchants who had refused to pay the duties of tonnage and poundage. The barons of exchequer were questioned with regard to their decrees on that head. The sheriff of London was committed to the Tower for his activity in supporting the officers of the custom-house. The goods of Rolles, a merchant, and member of the house, being seized for his refusal to pay the duties, complaints were made of this violence, as if it were a breach of privilege. Charles, on the other hand, supported his officers in all these measures, and the quarrel rel between him and the commons became every day higher. Sir John Elliot framed a remonstrance against tonnage and poundage, which he offered to the clerk to read; but it was refused, and he then read it himself. The question being called for, Sir John Finch the speaker said, that he had a command from the king to adjourn, and to put no question; upon which he rose and left the chair. The whole house was in an uproar; the speaker was pushed back into the chair, and forcibly held in it, till a short remonstrance was formed, which was instantaneously passed by almost universal acclamation. Papists and Arminians were now declared capital enemies to the commonwealth. Those who levied tonnage and poundage were branded with the same epithet. And even the merchants, who should voluntarily pay these duties, were declared betrayers of English liberty, and public enemies. The doors being locked, the gentleman-usher of the house of lords, who was sent by the king, could get no admittance till this remonstrance was finished. By the king's order he took the mace from the table, which put an end to their proceedings, and on the 15th of March the parliament was dissolved. Some of the members were imprisoned and fined; but this severity served only to increase the general discontent, and point out the sufferers as proper leaders for the popular party.

Charles being now disgusted with parliaments, resolved to call no more; but finding himself destitute of resources, was obliged to make peace with the two powers with which he was at war. A treaty was signed with France on the 14th of April, and another with Spain on the 5th of November 1630, by which Charles bound himself to observe a neutrality with regard to the affairs on the continent. His conduct to his subjects cannot now appear entirely blameless, nor the general discontent altogether without foundation. As if, however, he had resolved to ruin himself, and to lose the small degree of affection which remained among his subjects, Charles now began to set about making innovations in religion. Archbishop Laud had obtained a prodigious ascendancy over the king; and, by his superstitious attachment to foolish ceremonies, led him into a conduct that proved fatal to himself and to the kingdom in general. The humour of the nation ran at that time in a channel perfectly the reverse of superstition. The ancient ceremonies which had been sanctified by the permission and practice of the first reformers, could scarce be retained in divine service. Laud chose this time, of all others the most improper, for renewing the ceremonies of the fourth and fifth century, when the Christian church, as is well known, was sunk into those superstitions, which were afterwards continued and augmented by the policy of the church of Rome. So openly were these tenets espoused, that not only the discontented Puritans believed the church of England to be relapsing fast into the Popish superstition, but the court of Rome itself entertained hopes of regaining its authority in this island. To forward Laud's good intentions, an offer was twice made him, in private, of a cardinal's hat; which he declined accepting. His answer was, (as he says himself,) that "something dwelt within him, which would not suffer his compliance, till Rome was other than it is." It must be confessed, however, that though Laud deserved not the appellation of a Papist, the genius of his religion was, though in a less degree, the same with that of the Romish. The same profound respect was exacted to the sacerdotal character; the same submission to the creeds and decrees of synods and councils required; the same pomp and ceremony was affected in worship; and the same superstitious regard to days, polterges, meats, and vestments. Orders were given, and rigorously inflicted on, that the communion-table should be removed from the middle of the area where it had hitherto stood in all churches except cathedrals. It was placed at the east end, railed in, and denominated an altar; as the clergyman, who officiated, commonly received the appellation of priest. All kinds of ornaments, especially pictures, were introduced. Some of these, upon inquiry, were found to be the very same that were to be met with in the mass-book. The crucifix too, that perpetual consolation of all pious Catholics, and terror to all sound Protestants, was not forgotten on this occasion.

In return for Charles's indulgence towards the church, Laud and his followers took care to magnify on every occasion the regal authority, and to treat with the utmost disdain or detestation all puritanical pretensions to a free and independent constitution. From this subjection, however, they took care to exclude themselves, and inflicted upon a divine and apostolical charter in preference to a legal and parliamentary one. The sacerdotal character was magnified as sacred and indefeasible; all right to spiritual authority, or even to private judgment in spiritual subjects, was refused to profane laymen: ecclesiastical courts were held by bishops in their own name, without any notice taken of the king's authority: and Charles, tho' extremely jealous of every claim in popular assemblies, seemed rather to encourage than repress those encroachments of his clergy.

The principles which exalted prerogative were put into practice during the whole time that Charles ruled without parliaments. He wanted money for the support of government; and he levied it, either by the revival of obsolete laws, or by violations of the privileges. Though humane and gentle in his nature, he gave way to severities in the star-chamber and high commission, which seemed necessary in order to support the present mode of administration, and suppress the rising spirit of liberty throughout the kingdom. Tonnage and poundage were continued to be levied by royal authority alone. The former arbitrary impositions were still exacted; and even new impositions laid upon different kinds of merchandise. The custom-house officers received orders from the council to enter into any house, warehouse, or cellar; to search any trunk or chest; and to break any bulk whatever, in default of the payment of customs. In order to exercise the militia, each county by an edict of the council was assessed in a certain sum for maintaining a muster-master appointed for that service. Commissions were openly made with recusants, and the Popish religion became a regular part of the revenue. A commission was granted for compounding with such as were possessed of crown-lands on defective titles; and on this pretence some money was exacted of the people, &c.

While the English were in the utmost discontent, He attempts and almost ready to break out in open rebellion by to establish these arbitrary proceedings, Charles thought proper episcopacy to attempt setting up episcopacy in Scotland. The canons for establishing ecclesiastical jurisdiction were pro- promulgated in 1635, and were received without much appearance of opposition; yet, with great inward apprehension and discontent. The first reading of the liturgy was attempted in the cathedral church of St Giles in Edinburgh, in 1637; but this produced such a tumult, that it was not thought safe to repeat the experiment. An universal combination against the religious innovations began immediately to take place; but Charles, as if obstinately bent on his own destruction, continued inflexible in his purpose, though he had nothing to oppose to the united force of the kingdom but a proclamation, in which he pardoned all past offences, and exhorted the people to be more obedient for the future, and to submit peaceably to the use of the liturgy. This proclamation hastened forward the insurrection which had been slowly advancing before.

Four tables, as they were called, were formed in Edinburgh. One consisted of nobility, another of gentry, a third of ministers, and the fourth of burgesses. The table of gentry was divided into many subordinate ones, according to their different counties. In the hands of the four tables, the authority of the whole kingdom was placed. Orders were issued by them, and everywhere obeyed with the utmost regularity; and among the first acts of their government was the production of the Covenant.

This famous covenant consisted of a renunciation of Popery, formerly signed by James in his youth, and filled with many virulent invectives against that party. A bond of union followed, by which the subscribers obliged themselves to resist all religious innovations, and to defend each other against all opposition whatsoever: And all this for the greater glory of God, and the greater honour and advantage of their king and country. The covenant was subscribed by people of all ranks and conditions. Few disapproved of it in their hearts, and still fewer dared openly to condemn it. The king's ministers and counsellors themselves were mostly of the same way of thinking; and none but rebels to God, and traitors to their country, it was thought, would withdraw themselves from so salutary and pious a combination.

The king now began to be alarmed. He sent the marquis of Hamilton, as commissioner, with authority to treat with the covenanters. He required the covenant to be renounced and recalled; and he thought that on his part he made very satisfactory concessions, when he offered to suspend the canons and liturgy till in a fair and legal way they could be received, and so to model the high commission that it should no longer give offence to his subjects. In answer to this demand the covenanters told him, they would sooner renounce their baptism; and invited the commissioner himself to sign it. Hamilton returned to London; made another fruitless journey with new conclusions to Edinburgh; returned again to London, and was immediately sent back with still more satisfactory concessions. The king was now willing to abolish entirely the canons, the liturgy, and the high-commission court; he even resolved to limit extremely the power of the bishops, and was content if on any terms he could retain that order in the church of Scotland. And to ensure all these gracious offers, he gave Hamilton authority to summon first an assembly, and then a parliament, where every national grievance should be redressed.

These successive concessions only showed the weakness of the king, and encouraged the malcontents to rise in their demands. The offer, however, of an assembly and a parliament, in which they expected to be entirely matters, was very willingly embraced by the covenanters.

Charles, perceiving what advantage his enemies had reaped from their covenant, resolved to have a covenant also on his side; and he ordered one to be drawn up for that purpose. It consisted of the same violent renunciation of Popery with the other; which, though the king did not approve of it, he thought proper to adopt, in order to remove all the suspicions entertained against him. As the covenanters, in their bond of mutual defence against all opposition, had been careful not to except the king; Charles had formed a bond which was annexed to this renunciation, and which expressed the subscribers loyalty and duty to his majesty. But the covenanters perceiving that this new covenant was only meant to weaken and divide them, received it with the utmost scorn and detestation. And, without delay, they proceeded to model the assembly from which such great achievements were expected.

The assembly met at Glasgow in 1638. A firm determination had been entered into of utterly abolishing episcopacy; and, as a preparative to it, there was laid before the presbytery of Edinburgh, and solemnly read in all the churches of the kingdom, an accusation against the bishops, as guilty, all of them, of heresy, simony, bribery, perjury, cheating, incest, adultery, fornication, common-fearing, drunkenness, gaming, breach of the Sabbath, and every other crime which had occurred to the accusers. The bishops sent a protest, declining the authority of the assembly; the commissioner too protested against that court, as illegally constituted and elected; and, in his majesty's name, dissolved it. This measure was foreseen, and little regarded. The court still continued to sit and do business. All the acts of assembly, since the accession of James to the crown of England, were, upon pretty reasonable grounds, declared null and invalid. The acts of parliament, which affected ecclesiastical affairs, were on that very account supposed to have no authority. And thus the whole fabric, which James and Charles, in a long course of years, had been rearing with much care and policy, fell at once to the ground. The covenant likewise was ordered to be signed by every one, under pain of excommunication.

In 1639, the covenanters prepared in earnest for war. The earl of Argyll, though he long seemed to temporize, at last embraced the covenant; and he became the chief leader of that party. The earls of Rothes, Caithness, Montrose, Lothian, the lords Lindefey, Loudon, Yeiter, and Balmerino, also distinguished themselves. Many of their officers had acquired reputation in the German wars, particularly under Gustavus; and these were invited over to assist their country in her present necessity. The command was entrusted to Leffy, a soldier of experience and ability. Forces were regularly enlisted and disciplined. Arms were commissioned and imported from foreign countries. A few castles which belonged to the king, being unprovided of victuals, ammunition, and garrisons, were soon seized. And the whole country, except a small part, where the marquis of Huntly still adhered to the king, king, being in the covenanters hands, was soon put into a tolerable posture of defence.

Charles, on the other hand, was not deficient in his endeavours to oppose this formidable combination. By regular economy he had not only paid all the debts contracted in the French and Spanish wars, but had amassed a sum of £200,000; which he had reserved for any sudden exigency. The queen had great interest with the catholics, both from the sympathy of religion, and from the favours and indulgences which she had been able to procure them. She now employed her credit, and persuaded them, that it was reasonable to give large contributions, as a mark of their duty to the king, during this urgent necessity: And thus, to the great scandal of the Puritans, a considerable supply was gained. The king's fleet was formidable and well supplied. Having put 5000 land-forces on board, he intrusted it to the marquis of Hamilton, who had orders to sail to the frith of Forth, and cause a diversion in the forces of the malcontents. An army was levied of near 20,000 foot, and 3000 horse; and was put under the command of the earl of Arundel, a nobleman of great family, but celebrated neither for military nor political abilities. The earl of Essex, a man of strict honour, and extremely popular, especially among the soldiery, was appointed lieutenant-general: The earl of Holland was general of the horse. The king himself joined the army, and he summoned all the peers of England to attend him. The whole had the appearance of a splendid court rather than a military armament, and in this situation the camp arrived at Berwick.

The Scottish army was equally numerous with that of the king, but inferior in cavalry. The officers had more experience; and the soldiery, though ill disciplined and armed, were animated, as well by the national aversion to England, and the dread of becoming a province to their old enemy, as by that religious enthusiasm which was the occasion of the war. Yet so prudent were their leaders, that they immediately sent very submissive messages to the king, and craved leave to be admitted to a treaty.—Charles, as usual, took the worst course. He concluded a sudden pacification, in which it was stipulated, that he should withdraw his fleet and army; that within 48 hours the Scots should disband their forces; that the king's forts should be restored to him; his authority be acknowledged; and a general assembly and parliament be immediately summoned, in order to compose all differences.

This peace was of no long duration. Charles could not prevail on himself to abandon the cause of episcopacy, and secretly intended to seize every favourable opportunity to recover the ground he had lost. The assembly, on the other hand, proceeded with the utmost fury and violence. They voted episcopacy to be unlawful in the church of Scotland; they stigmatized the canons and liturgy as Popish: they denounced the high commission tyranny. The parliament which sat after the assembly, advanced pretensions which tended to diminish the civil power of the monarch; and what probably affected Charles still more, they were proceeding to ratify the acts of assembly, when by the king's instructions Traquair the commissioner provoked them. And on account of these claims, which might have been easily foreseen, war was recommenced the same year.

No sooner had Charles concluded the peace, than he found himself obliged to disband his army, on account of his want of money; and as the soldiery had been held together merely by mercenary views, it was not possible, without great trouble, expense, and loss of time, to reassemble them. On the contrary, the covenanters, in dismissing their troops, had been careful to preserve nothing but the appearance of a pacification. The officers had orders to be ready on the first summons: The soldiery were warned not to think the nation secure from an English invasion: And the religious zeal which animated all ranks of men made them immediately fly to their standards, as soon as their trumpet was sounded by their spiritual and temporal leaders.

In 1640, however, the king made shift to draw an army together; but finding himself unable to support them, was obliged to call a parliament after an intermission of above 11 years. As the sole design of the king's calling this parliament was to obtain a supply, and the only reason they had for attending was to procure a redress of grievances, it is not to be supposed there could be any good agreement between them. The king accordingly insisted for money, and the parliament on their grievances, till a dissolution ensued. Dissolved.

To add to the unpopularity of this measure, the king, notwithstanding his dissolving the parliament, allowed the convocation to sit; a practice of which, since the reformation, there had been very few examples, and which was now by many deemed very irregular. Besides granting to the king a supply from the spirituality, the convocation, jealous of innovations similar to those which had taken place in Scotland, imposed an oath on the clergy and the graduates in the universities, by which every one swore to maintain the established government of the church, by archbishops, bishops, deans, chapters, &c. These steps were deemed illegal, because not ratified by consent of parliament; and the oath, containing an &c. in the middle of it, became a subject of general ridicule.

The king, disappointed of parliamentary subsidies, was obliged to have recourse to other expedients. The teed for ecclesiastical subsidies served him in some stead; and it money seemed but just that the clergy should contribute to the expense of a war which had been in a great measure of their own raising. He borrowed money from his ministers and courtiers; and so much was he beloved amongst them, that above £300,000 were subscribed in a few days. Some attempts were made towards forcing a loan from the citizens; but still repelled by the spirit of liberty, which was now become unconquerable. A loan of £40,000 was extorted from the Spanish merchants who had bullion in the tower. Coat and conduct money for the soldiery was levied on the counties; an ancient practice, but which was supposed to be abolished by the petition of right. All the pepper was bought from the East India Company upon trust; and sold, at a great discount, for ready money. A scheme was proposed for coining two or three hundred thousand pounds of base money. Such were the extremities to which Charles was reduced. The fresh difficulties, which amidst the present distresses were every day raised, with regard to the payment of ship-money, obliged him to exert continual acts of authority, augmented extremely the discontent of the people, ple, and increased his indigence and necessities.

The present expedients, however, enabled the king, though with great difficulty, to march his army, consisting of 19,000 foot and 2000 horse. The earl of Northumberland was appointed general; the earl of Strafford, who was called over from Ireland, lieutenant-general; lord Conway, general of the horse. A small fleet was thought sufficient to serve the purposes of this expedition. The Scots, though somewhat superior, were sooner ready than the king's army, and marched to the borders of England. Notwithstanding their warlike preparations and hostile attempts, the covenanters still preserved the most submissive language to the king; and entered England with no other design, they said, than to obtain access to the king's presence, and lay their humble petition at his royal feet. At Newburn upon Tyne they were opposed by a detachment of 4500 men under Conway, who seemed resolute to dispute with them the passage of the river. The Scots first intreated them, with great civility, not to stop them in their march to their gracious sovereign; and then attacked them with great bravery, killed several, and chased the rest from their ground. Such a panic seized the whole English army, that the forces at Newcastle fled immediately to Durham; and not yet thinking themselves safe, they deserted that town, and retreated into Yorkshire.

The Scots continued to advance; they dispatched messengers to the king, who was now arrived at York. They took care, after the advantage they had gained, to redouble their professions of loyalty, duty, and submission to his person; and they even made apologies full of sorrow and contrition for their late victory. Charles was in a very distressed condition; and, in order to prevent the further advance of the Scots, agreed to a treaty, and named 16 English noblemen to meet with 11 Scots commissioners at Rippon. Strafford, upon whom, by reason of Northumberland's sickness, the command of the army had devolved, advised Charles rather to put all to hazard, than submit to such unworthy terms as he saw would be imposed upon him. He advised him to push forward and attack the Scots, and bring the affair to a quick decision; and if he was ever so unsuccessful, nothing worse could befal him than what from his inactivity he would certainly be exposed to; and, to show how easily this project might be executed, he ordered an assault to be made on some quarters of the Scots, and gained an advantage over them. This salutary advice Charles had not resolution to follow. He therefore resolved to call a council of the peers; and as he foretold that they would advise him to call a parliament, he told them in his first speech, that he had already taken that resolution. In order to subdue both armies (for the king was obliged to pay his enemies, in order to save the northern counties), Charles wrote to the city, desiring a loan of 200,000l. And the peers at York, whose authority was now much greater than that of their sovereign, joined in the same request.

The parliament met November 3rd 1640: the house of commons had never been observed so numerous; and, that they might strike a decisive blow at once against the court, they began with the impeachment of the earl of Strafford. That nobleman, who was considered as prime minister, both on account of the credit he possessed with his master, and his own uncommon vigour and capacity, had now the misfortune of having incurred the hatred of all the three kingdoms. The Scots looked upon him as the capital enemy of their country. He had engaged the parliament of Ireland to advance large subsidies to be employed in a war against them: he had levied an army of 9000 men, with which he had menaced all their western coast: he had obliged the Scots who lived under his government to renounce the covenant, &c.: he had governed Ireland, first as deputy, and then as lord-lieutenant, during eight years, with great vigilance, activity, and prudence, but with very little popularity. In a nation so adverse to the English government and religion, these very virtues were sufficient to draw on him the public hatred. His manners, besides, were at bottom haughty, rigid, and severe; and no sooner did adversity begin to seize him, than the concealed aversion blazed up at once, and the Irish parliament used every expedient to aggravate the charge against him.

The universal discontent which prevailed throughout the English nation was all pointed against the earl of Strafford; though for no other reason but because he was the minister of state whom the king most favoured and trusted. His extraction was honourable, his paternal fortune considerable: yet envy attended his sudden and great elevation; and his former associates in popular councils, finding that he owed his advancement to the defection of their cause, represented him as the great apostate of the commonwealth, whom it behoved them to sacrifice as a victim to public justice.

From so terrible a combination against a single person, nothing else could be expected than what really happened. Strafford was impeached, most unjustly condemned, and at last executed, in the year 1641. It was evident, not without extreme difficulty that the king could be brought to consent to his execution. He came to the distress of the house of lords, where he expressed his resolution never to employ Strafford again in any public business; but with regard to the treason for which he was condemned, he professed himself totally dissatisfied. The commons voted it a breach of privilege for the king to take notice of any bill depending before the house. Charles did not perceive, that his attachment to Strafford was the chief motive for the bill; and the greater proof he gave of this attachment to his favourite minister, the more inevitable did he render his destruction. The house of lords were intimidated, by popular violence, into passing the bill of attainder against the unfortunate earl. The same battery was next employed to force the king's assent. The populace flocked about Whitehall, and accompanied their demand of justice with the loudest clamours and most open menaces. A thousand idle reports of conspiracies, insurrections, and invasions, were spread abroad. On whatever side the king cast his eyes, he saw no resource nor security. All his servants, consulting their own safety rather than their master's honour, declined interfering, with their advice between him and his parliament. The queen, terrified at the appearance of so great danger, pressed Charles, with tears, to satisfy his people in this demand, which it was hoped would finally content them. Archbishop Juxon alone had the courage to advise him, if he did not approve of the bill, by no means to content to it.

Strafford, hearing of the king's irresolution and anxiety, xity, wrote to him a letter, in which he desired his own execution, in order to give peace to the nation: and at last, after the most violent anxiety and doubt, Charles granted a commission to four noblemen, in his name, to give the royal assent to the bill; flattering himself, perhaps, that as neither will consented to the deed, nor was his hand immediately engaged in it, he was the more free from all the guilt which attended it. These commissioners he empowered at the same time to give his assent to a bill yet more fatal to himself, viz. That the present parliament should not be dissolved, prorogued, or adjourned, without their own consent.

By this last bill Charles rendered the power of his enemies perpetual as it was already uncontrollable. The reason of this extraordinary step was, that the commons, from policy, more than necessity, had embraced the expedient of paying the two armies by borrowing money from the city. These loans they repaid afterwards by taxes levied on the people. At last the citizens, either of themselves, or by suggestion, began to start difficulties with regard to a farther loan which was demanded. "We make no scruple of trusting the parliament," (said they), "were we certain that the parliament was to continue till our repayment. But, in the present precarious situation of affairs, what security can be given us for our money?" In order to obviate this objection, the abovementioned bill was suddenly brought in, and having passed both houses with great rapidity, was at last brought to the king: who, being opprest with grief on account of the unhappy fate of Strafford, did not perceive the pernicious consequence of the bill.

All this time the commons had ruled in other respects with an uncontrollable sway. Soon after the impeachment of Strafford, Laud was accused of high treason, and committed to custody. To avoid the like fate, lord keeper Finch and secretary Windesbank fled, the one into Holland, the other into France. The house instituted a new species of guilt, termed delinquency: those who had exercised the powers necessary for the defence of the nation during the late military operations, were now called delinquents. In consequence of this determination, many of the nobility and prime gentry of the nation, while only exerting, as they justly thought, the legal powers of magistracy, found themselves unexpectedly involved in this new crime of delinquency. The commons, however, by their institution, reaped this multiplied advantage; they disarmed the crown, they established the maxims of rigid law and liberty, and they spread the terror of their own authority. All the sheriffs who had formerly exacted ship-money, though by the king's express command, were now declared delinquents. The farmers and officers of the customs who had been employed during so many years in levying tonnage, poundage, &c., were likewise denominated criminals of the same kind, and were afterwards glad to compound for a pardon by paying £50,000. Every discretionary or arbitrary sentence of the star-chamber and high commission courts, which from their very nature were arbitrary, underwent a severe scrutiny; and all those who had concurred in such sentences, were voted to be liable to the penalties of law. No minister of the king, no member of the council, but what found himself exposed by this deter-

The judges who had formerly given judgment against Hambden for refusing to pay ship-money, were accused before the peers, and obliged to find security for their appearance. Berkley, a judge of the king's bench, was seized by order of the house, even when sitting in his tribunal. The sanction of the lords and commons, as well as that of the king, was declared necessary for the confirmation of ecclesiastical canons. Monopolists and projectors, if of the king's party, were now expelled the house; but one Mildmay, a notorious and injustice monopolist, was allowed to keep his seat, because he of the party was of the popular party. In short, the constitution was completely new-modelled; and during the first period of the transactions of this remarkable parliament, if we except Strafford's attainder, their merits in other respects so much overbalance their mistakes, as to entitle them to very ample praises from all lovers of liberty. Not only were former abuses remedied, and grievances redressed: great provision for the future was made by excellent laws against the return of the like complaints. And if the means by which they obtained such mighty advantages favoured often of artifice, sometimes of violence; it is to be considered, that revolutions of government cannot be effected by mere force of argument and reasoning; and that, factions being once excited, men can neither so firmly regulate the tempers of others, nor their own, as to ensure themselves against all exorbitancies.

Had the parliament stopped here, it had been happy for the nation; but they were now resolved to be satisfied with nothing less than the total abolition of monarchy. The king had promised to pay a visit, this summer, to his subjects in Scotland, in order to settle their government; and though the English parliament was very importunate with him to lay aside that journey, they could not prevail with him so much as to delay it. Having failed in this, they appointed a small committee of both houses to attend him, in order, as was pretended, to see the articles of pacification executed, but really to be spies upon the king, to extend still farther the ideas of parliamentary authority, as well as eclipse his majesty. Endeavours were used, before Charles's departure, to have a protector of the kingdom appointed, with a power to pass laws without having recourse to the king. About this time, the king concluded the marriage of the princess Mary, with the prince William prince of Orange. He did not conclude this Mary with alliance without communicating his intentions to parliament, who were very well satisfied with the proposal. They adjourned from September 9th, to October 20th, 1641.

Charles arrived in Scotland August 14th, 1641, with a design to give full satisfaction if possible to this restless nation. Some good regulations were made; the bench of bishops, and lords of articles, were abolished; it was ordained that no man should be created a Scottish peer, who possessed not £10,000 marks (above 500l.) of annual rent in the kingdom; a law for triennial parliaments was likewise enacted; and it was ordained, that the last act of every parliament should be to appoint the time and place for holding the parliament next ensuing; the king was also deprived of that power formerly exercised, of issuing proclamations which enjoined obedience under the penalty of treason. But this great blow given to royal authority, and what concessions, in a manner dethroned the prince, was an article, that no member of the privy-council, in whose hands, during the king's absence, the whole administration lay, no officer of state, none of the judges, should be appointed but by advice and approbation of parliament. Charles even agreed to deprive of their seats four judges who had adhered to his interests; and their place was supplied by others more agreeable to the ruling party. Several of the covenanters were also sworn of the privy-council; and all the ministers of state, councillors and judges, were, by law, to hold their places during life or good behaviour. The king, while in Scotland, conformed himself to the established church; he bestowed pensions and preferments on Henderson, Gilfepp, and other popular preachers; he practised every art to soften, if not to gain, his greatest enemies; the earl of Argyle was created a marquis, Lord Loudon an earl, and Lefly was dignified with the title of Lord Leven. But though Charles was thus obliged to heap favours on his enemies and overlook his friends, the former were not satisfied, as believing all he did proceeded from artifice and necessity; while some of the latter were disgusted, and thought themselves ill rewarded for their past services.

Argyle and Hamilton, being seized with an apprehension, real or pretended, that the earl of Crawford and others meant to assassinate them, left the parliament suddenly, and retired into the country; but, upon invitation and assurances, returned in a few days. This event, which in Scotland had no visible consequence, was commonly denominated the incident; but though the incident had no effect in Scotland, it was attended with very serious consequences in England. The English parliament immediately took the alarm; or rather probably were glad of the hint: they infuriated to the people, that the malignants, so they called the king's party, had laid a plot at once to murder them and all the godly in both kingdoms. They applied therefore to Essex, whom the king had left general of the south of England; and he ordered a guard to attend them.

In the mean time a most dangerous rebellion broke out in Ireland, with circumstances of unparalleled horror, bloodshed, and devastation. The old Irish, by the wise conduct of James, had been fully subdued, and proper means taken for securing their dependence and subjection for the future; but their old animosity still remained, and only wanted an occasion to exert itself. This they obtained from the weak condition to which Charles was reduced, and this was made use of in the following manner.

One Roger More, a gentleman descended from an ancient Irish family, but of narrow fortune, first formed the project of expelling the English, and asserting the independency of his native country. He secretly went from chieftain to chieftain, and roused up every latent principle of discontent. He maintained a close correspondence with lord Macguire, and Sir Phelim O Neale, the most powerful of the old Irish; and by his persuasions soon engaged not only them, but the most considerable persons of the nation, into a conspiracy; and it was hoped, the English of the pale, as they were called, or the old English planters, being all catholics, would afterwards join the party which restored their religion to its ancient splendor and authority. The plan was, that Sir Phelim O Neale, and the other conspirators, should begin an insurrection on one day throughout the provinces, and should attack all the English settlements; and that on the very same day, lord Macguire and Roger More should surprise the castle of Dublin. They fixed on the beginning of winter for the commencement of this revolt; that there might be more difficulty in transporting forces from England. Succours to themselves, and supplies of arms, they expected from France, in consequence of a promise made them by cardinal Richelieu; and many Irish officers who had served in the Spanish troops, had given assurances of their concurrence, as soon as they saw an insurrection entered upon by their catholic brethren. News, which every day arrived from England, of the fury expressed by the commons against all Papists, struck fresh terror into the Irish nation, stimulated the conspirators to execute their fatal purpose, and assured them of the concurrence of their countrymen.

Such a propensity was discovered in all the Irish to revolt, that it was deemed unnecessary as well as dangerous to trust the secret in many hands; and though the day appointed drew nigh, no discovery had yet been made to government. The king, indeed, had received information from his ambassadors, that something was in agitation among the Irish in foreign parts; but though he gave warning to the administration in Ireland, his intelligence was entirely neglected. They were awakened from their security only that very day before the commencement of hostilities. The castle of Dublin, by which the capital was commanded, contained arms for 10,000 men, with 35 pieces of cannon, and a proportionate quantity of ammunition. Yet was this important place guarded, and that too without any care, by no greater force than 50 men. Macguire and More were already in town with a numerous band of their retainers; others were expected that night; and next morning they were to enter upon what they esteemed the castle of all enterprises, the surprisal of the castle. O Conolly, however, an Irishman, but a Protestant, discovered the conspiracy. The justices and council fled immediately to the castle, and reinforced the guards. The city was immediately alarmed, and all the Protestants prepared for defence. More escaped, but Macguire was taken; and Mahone, one of the conspirators, being likewise seized, first discovered to the justices the project of a general insurrection.

But though O Conolly's discovery saved the castle from a surprize, Mahon's confession came too late to elude the prevent the intended insurrection. O Neale and his confederates had already taken arms in Ulster. The houses, cattle, and goods of the English were first seized. Those who heard of the commotions in their neighbourhood, instead of deferring their habitations, and assembling together for mutual protection, remained at home in hopes of defending their property; and fell thus separately into the hands of their enemies. An universal massacre now commenced, accompanied with circumstances of unequalled barbarity. No age, sex, or condition, was spared. All connections were dissolved, and death was dealt by that hand from which protection was implored and expected. All the tortures which wanton cruelty could devise, all the linger- ing pains of body, the anguish of mind, the agonies of despair, could not satiate revenge excited without injury, and cruelty derived from no cause. Such enormities, in short, were committed, that though attested by undoubted evidence, they appear almost incredible. The flately buildings or commodious habitations of the planters, as if upbraiding the sloth and ignorance of the natives, were consumed with fire, or laid level with the ground; and where the miserable owners, shut up in their houses, and preparing for defence, perished in the flames, together with their wives and children, a double triumph was afforded to their insulting foes. If anywhere a number assembled together, and resolved to oppose the assailants; they were disarmed by capitulations, and promises of safety, confirmed by the most solemn oaths. But no sooner had they surrendered, than the rebels, with perfidy equal to their cruelty, made them share the fate of their unhappy countrymen. Others tempted their prisoners, by the fond love of life, to embrace their hands in the blood of friends, brothers, or parents; and having thus rendered them accomplices in their own guilt, gave them that death which they sought to shun by deferring it.

Such were the barbarities by which Sir Phelim O Neale and the Irish in Ulster signalized their rebellion. More, shocked at the recital of these enormities, flew to O Neale's camp; but found that his authority, which was sufficient to excite the Irish to a rebellion, was too feeble to restrain their inhumanity. Soon after, he abandoned the cause, and retired to Flanders. From Ulster, the flames of rebellion diffused themselves in an instant over the other three provinces of Ireland. In all places, death and slaughter were not uncommon; though the Irish in these other provinces pretended to act with moderation and humanity. But cruel and barbarous was their humanity! Not content with expelling the English from their houses, they stripped them of their very clothes, and turned them out naked and defenseless to all the severities of the season. The heavens themselves, as if conspiring against that unhappy people, were armed with cold and tempest unusual to the climate, and executed what the sword had left unfinished. By some computations, those who perished by all these cruelties are supposed to amount to 150 or 200,000. But by the most reasonable and moderate, they are made to amount only to 40,000; though probably even this account is not free of exaggeration.

The English of the pale, who probably were not at first in the secret, pretended to blame the insurrection, and to detest the barbarity with which it was accompanied. By their protestations and declarations they engaged the justices to supply them with arms, which they promised to employ in defence of government. But in a little time, the interests of religion were found to be more prevalent over them than regard and duty to their native country. They chose lord Gormontone their leader; and, joining the old Irish, rivalled them in every act of cruelty towards the English Protestants. Besides many smaller bodies, dispersed over the kingdom, the main army of the rebels amounted to 20,000 men, and threatened Dublin with an immediate siege. Both the English and Irish rebels conspired in one imposture, by which they seduced many of their countrymen. They pretended authority from the king and queen, but especially the latter, for their insurrection; and they affirmed that the cause of their taking arms was to vindicate the royal prerogative, now invaded by the puritanical parliament. Sir Phelim O Neale, having found a royal patent in the house of lord Caulfield, whom he had murdered, tore off the seal, and affixed it to a commission which he had forged for himself.

The king received intelligence of this insurrection Scots rising while in Scotland, and immediately acquainted the Scots in parliament with it. He hoped, as there had all along been such an outcry against Popery, that now, when that religion was appearing in its blackest colours, the whole nation would vigorously support him in the suppression of it. But here he found himself mistaken. The Scots considering themselves now as a republic, and conceiving hopes from the present distresses of Ireland, they resolved to make an advantageous bargain for the succours with which they should supply the neighbouring nation. Except dispatching a small body of forces, to support the Scots colonies in Ulster, they would, therefore, go no farther than to send commissioners to London, in order to treat with the parliament, to whom the sovereign power was in reality transferred. The king too, sensible of his utter inability to subdue the Irish rebels, found himself obliged, in this exigency, to have recourse to the English parliament, and depend on their assistance for supply. He told them that the insurrection was not, in his opinion, the result of any rash enterprise, but of a formed conspiracy against the crown of England. To their care and wisdom, therefore, he said, he committed the conduct and prosecution of the war, which, in a cause so important to national and religious interests, must of necessity be immediately entered upon, and vigorously pursued.

The English parliament, now re-assembled, discovered in each vote the same dispositions in which they had separated. Nothing less than a total abolition of the English monarchy would serve their turn. But this project had not been in the power of the popular leaders to have executed, had it not been for the passion which seized the nation for the presbyterian discipline, and the wild enthusiasm which at that time attended it. By the difficulties and distresses of the crown, the commons, who possessed alone the power of supply, had aggrandized themselves; and it seemed a peculiar happiness, that the Irish rebellion had succeeded, at such a critical juncture, to the pacification in Scotland. That expression of the king's, by which he committed to them the care of Ireland, they immediately laid hold of, and interpreted in the most unlimited sense. They had on other occasions been gradually encroaching on the executive power of the crown, which forms its principal and most natural branch of authority; but with regard to Ireland, they at once assumed it, fully and entirely, as if delivered over to them by a regular gift or assignment. And to this usurpation the king was obliged passively to submit, both because of his inability to resist, and lest he should expose himself still more to the charge of favouring the rebels; a reproach eagerly thrown upon him by the popular party as soon as they heard that the Irish pretended to act by his commission. Nay, to complete their character, while they pretended the utmost zeal against the insurgents, they took no steps for its suppression, but such as likewise gave them the superiority in those commotions which they foresaw must be so soon excited in England. They levied money under pretence of the Irish expedition, but referred it for purposes which concerned them more nearly: they took arms from the king's magazines, but still kept them with a secret intention of making use of them against himself; whatever law they deemed necessary for aggrandizing themselves, they voted, under colour of enabling them to recover Ireland; and if Charles with-held his royal assent, the refusal was imputed to those pernicious counsels which had at first excited the Popish rebellion, and which still threatened total ruin to the Protestant interest throughout his dominions. And though no forces were for a long time sent over into Ireland, and very little money remitted during the extreme distresses of that kingdom; so strong was the people's attachment to the commons, that the fault was never imputed to those pious zealots, whose votes breathed nothing but death and destruction to the Irish rebels.

The conduct of the parliament towards the king now became exceedingly unreasonable, unjust, and cruel. It was thought proper to frame a general remonstrance of the state of the kingdom; and accordingly the committee, which at the first meeting of the parliament had been chosen for that purpose, were commanded to finish their undertaking. The king returned from Scotland November 25th, 1641. He was received in London with the shouts and acclamations of the populace, and with every demonstration of regard and affection. Sir Richard Gournay, lord mayor, a man of great merit and authority, had promoted these favourable dispositions; and had engaged the populace, who so lately insulted the king, and who so soon after made furious war upon him, to give him these marks of their dutiful attachment. But all the pleasure which Charles reaped from this joyful reception was soon damped by the remonstrance of the commons, which was presented to him together with a petition of the like nature. The bad counsels which he followed were there complained of; his concurrence in the Irish rebellion plainly infamated; the scheme laid for the introduction of popery and superstition inveighed against; and for a remedy to all these evils, the king was desired to entrust every office and command to persons in whom his parliament should have cause to confide. By this phrase, which was very often repeated in all the memorials and addresses of that time, the commons meant themselves and their adherents. To this remonstrance Charles was obliged to make a civil reply, notwithstanding his subjects had transgressed all bounds of respect and even good manners in their treatment of their sovereign.

It would be tedious to point out every invasion of the prerogative now attempted by the commons: but sovereignty, finding themselves at last likely to be opposed by the nobility, who saw their own depression closely connected with that of the crown, they openly told the upper house, that "they themselves were the representatives of the whole body of the kingdom, and that the peers were nothing but individuals, who held their seats in a particular capacity; and therefore, if their lordships will not consent to acts necessary for the preservation of the people, the commons, together with such of the lords as are more sensible of the danger, must join together and represent the matter to his majesty." Every method proper for alarming the populace was now put in practice. The commons affected continual fears of destruction to themselves and to the whole nation. They excited the people by never ceasing inquiries after conspiracies, by reports of insurrections, by feigned intelligence of invasions from abroad, and by discoveries of dangerous combinations at home amongst Papists and their adherents. When Charles dismissed the guard which they had ordered during his absence, they complained; and, upon his promising them a new guard under the command of the earl of Lindsey, they absolutely refused the offer: they ordered halberts to be brought into the hall where they assembled, and thus armed themselves against those conspiracies with which they pretended they were hourly threatened. Several reduced officers, and young gentlemen of the inns of court, during this time of distress and danger, offered their service to the king. Between them and the populace there passed frequent skirmishes, which ended not without bloodshed. By way of reproach, these gentlemen gave the rabble the name of roundheads, Roundheads on account of their short cropped hair; while they distinguished the others by the name of cavaliers. And thus the nation, which was before sufficiently provided with religious as well as civil causes of quarrel, was also supplied with party-names, under which the factions might rendezvous and signalize their mutual hatred.

These tumults continued to increase about Westminster and Whitehall. The cry continually resounded against bishops and rotten-hearted lords. The former especially, being easily distinguishable by their habit, and being the object of violent hatred to all the sectaries, were exposed to the most dangerous insults. The archbishop of York, having been abused by the populace, hastily called a meeting of his brethren. By his advice a protestation was drawn and addressed to the king and the house of lords. The bishops there forth, that though they had an undoubted right to sit and vote in parliament, yet in coming thither they had been menaced, assaulted, affronted, by the unruly multitude, and could no longer with safety attend their duty in the house. For this reason they protested against all laws, votes, and resolutions, as null and invalid, which should pass during the time of their forced absence. This protestation, which, though just and legal, was certainly ill-timed, was signed by twelve bishops, and communicated to the king, who hastily approved of it. As soon as it was presented to the lords, that house desired a conference with the commons, whom they informed of this unexpected protestation. The opportunity was seized with joy and triumph. An impeachment of high treason was immediately sent up against the bishops, as endeavouring to subvert the fundamental laws, and to invalidate the authority of the legislature. They were, on the first demand, sequestrated from parliament, and committed to custody. No man in either house ventured to speak a word in their vindication; so much was every one displeased at the egregious imprudence of which they had been guilty. One person alone said, that he did not believe them guilty of high treason; but that they were stark mad, and therefore desired they might be sent to bedlam.

This was a fatal blow to the royal interest; but it soon felt a much greater from the imprudence of the king. king himself. Charles had long suppressed his resentment, and only strove to gratify the commons by the greatness of his concessions; but finding that all his compliance had but increased their demands, he could no longer contain. He gave orders to Herbert his attorney-general to enter an accusation of high treason, in the house of peers, against lord Kimbolton, one of the most popular men of his party, together with five commoners, Sir Arthur Haslerig, Hollis, Hambden, Pym, and Strode. The articles were, That they had traiterously endeavoured to subvert the fundamental laws and government of the kingdom, to deprive the king of his regal power, and to impose on his subjects an arbitrary and tyrannical authority; that they had invited a foreign army to invade the kingdom; that they had aimed at subverting the very rights and being of parliaments; and had actually raised and countenanced tumults against the king. Men had scarce leisure to wonder at the precipitancy and imprudence of this impeachment, when they were astonifhed by another measure still more rash and unsupported. A sergeant at arms, in the king's name, demanded of the house the five members, and was sent back without any positive answer. This was followed by a conduct still more extraordinary. The next day, the king himself was seen to enter the house of commons alone, advancing through the hall, while all the members stood up to receive him. The speaker withdrew from his chair, and the king took possession of it. Having seated himself, and looked round him for some time, he told the house, that he was sorry for the occasion that forced him thither; that he was come in person to seize the members whom he had accused of high treason, seeing they would not deliver them up to his sergeant at arms. Then addressing himself to the speaker, he desired to know whether any of them were in the house: but the speaker, falling on his knees, replied, that he had neither eyes to see, nor tongue to speak, in that place, but as the house was pleased to direct him; and he asked pardon for being able to give no other answer. The king sat for some time, to see if the accused were present; but they had escaped a few minutes before his entry. Thus disappointed, perplexed, and not knowing on whom to rely, he next proceeded, amidst the invectives of the populace, who continued to cry out, Privilege! Privilege! to common council of the city, and made his complaint to them. The common council answered his complaints by a contemptuous silence; and on his return, one of the populace, more insolent than the rest, cried out, "To your tents, O Israel!" a watch-word among the Jews, when they intended to abandon their princes.

When the commons assembled the next day, they pretended the greatest terror; and passed an unanimous vote that the king had violated their privileges, and that they could not assemble again in the same place, till they should obtain satisfaction, and have a guard for their security. The king had retired to Windsor, and from thence he wrote to his parliament, making every concession, and promising every satisfaction in his power. But they were resolved to accept of nothing unless he would discover his advisers in that illegal measure; a condition to which, they knew, that without rendering himself for ever vile and contemptible, he could not possibly submit.

The commons had already stript the king of almost all his privileges; the bishops were fled, the judges were intimidated; it now only remained, after securing the church and the law, that they should get possession of the sword also. The power of appointing governors and generals, and of levying armies, was still a remaining prerogative of the crown. Having therefore first magnified their terrors of Popery, which perhaps they actually dreaded, they proceeded to petition that the Tower might be put into their hands; and that Hull, Portsmouth, and the fleet, should be intrusted to persons of their choosing. These were requests, the complying with which subverted what remained of the constitution; however, such was the necessity of the times, that they were first contended, and then granted. At last, every compliance only increasing the avidity of making fresh demands, the commons desired to have a militia, raised and governed by such officers and commanders as they should nominate, under pretence of securing them from the Irish Papists, of whom they were under the greatest apprehension.

It was here that Charles first ventured to put a stop to his concessions; and that not by a refusal, but a delay. He was at that time at Dover attending the queen and the princess of Orange, who had thought it prudent to leave the kingdom. He replied to the petition, that he had not now leisure to consider a matter of such great importance; and therefore would defer an answer till his return. But the commons were well aware, that though this was depriving him even of the shadow of power, yet they had now gone too far to recede; and they were therefore desirous of leaving him no authority whatever, being conscious that themselves would be the first victims to its fury. They alleged, that the dangers and distempers of the nation were such as could endure no longer delay; and unless the king should speedily comply with their demands, they should be obliged, both for his safety and that of the kingdom, to embody and direct the militia by the authority of both houses. In their remonstrances to the king, they desired even to be permitted to command the army for an appointed time; which so exasperated him, that he exclaimed, "No, not for an hour." This peremptory refusal broke off all further treaty; and both sides were now resolved to have recourse to arms.

Charles, taking the prince of Wales with him, retired to York, where he found the people more loyal, and less infected with the frenzy of the times. He found his cause there backed by a more numerous party among the people than he had expected. The queen, who was in Holland, was making successful levies of men and ammunition by selling the crown-jewels. But before war was openly declared, the shadow of a negotiation was carried on, rather with a design to please the people than with any view of reconciliation. Nay, shamefaced that the king might dispair of all composition, the parliament sent him the conditions on which they were of parliament willing to come to an agreement. Their demands were contained in 19 propositions, and amounted to a total abolition of monarchical authority. They required that no man should remain in the council who was not agreeable to parliament; that no deed of the king's should have validity unless it passed the council, and was attested under their hand; and that all the officers of state should be chosen with consent of parliament; that none of the royal family should marry without consent of parliament. parliament or council; that the laws should be executed against Catholics; that the votes of Popish lords should be excluded; that the reformation of the liturgy and church-government should take place according to the advice of parliament; that the ordinance with regard to the militia be submitted to; that the justice of parliament may pass upon all delinquents; that a general pardon be granted with such exceptions as should be advised by parliament; that the forts and castles be disposed of by consent of parliament; and that no peers be made but with consent of both houses. War on any terms was deemed, by the king and all his counsellors, preferable to an ignominious peace. Charles accordingly resolved to support his authority by force of arms. "His towns (he said) were taken from him; his ships, his army, and his money; but there still remained to him a good cause, and the hearts of his loyal subjects; which, with God's blessing, he doubted not would recover all the rest." Collecting therefore some forces, he advanced southwards, and erected his royal standard at Nottingham.

The king found himself supported in the civil war by the nobility and more considerable gentry. They, dreading a total confusion of rank from the fury of the populace, inflicted themselves under the banner of their monarch; from whom they received, and to whom they communicated, their lustre. The concurrence of the bishops and church of England also increased the adherents of the king; but it may be safely affirmed, that the high monarchical doctrines so much inculcated by the clergy, had never done him any good. The bulk of the nobility and gentry who now attended the king in his distresses, breathed the spirit of liberty as well as of loyalty; and in the hopes alone of his submitting to a limited and legal government they were willing to sacrifice their lives and fortunes.

On the other hand, the city of London, and most of the great corporations, took part with the parliament; and adopted with zeal those democratical principles on which these assemblies were founded. The example of the Dutch commonwealth too, where liberty had so happily supported industry, made the commercial part of the nation desire to see a like form of government established in England. Many families also, who had enriched themselves by commerce, saw with indignation, that, notwithstanding their opulence, they could not raise themselves to a level with the ancient gentry; they therefore adhered to a power by whose success they hoped to acquire rank and consideration.

At first every advantage seemed to lie against the royal cause. The king was totally destitute of money. Londoners, and all the sea-ports, except Newcastle, being in the hands of parliament, they were secure of a considerable revenue; and the seamen naturally following the disposition of the ports to which they belonged; the parliament had the entire dominion of the sea. All the magazines of arms and ammunition they seized at first; and their fleet intercepted the greatest part of those sent by the queen from Holland. The king, in order to arm his followers, was obliged to borrow the weapons of the train bands, under promise of restoring them as soon as peace should be settled. The nature and qualities of his adherents alone, gave the king some compensation for all the advantages possessed by his adversaries. More bravery and activity were hoped for from the generous spirit of the nobles and gentry, than from the base disposition of the multitude. And as the landed gentlemen, at their own expense, levied and armed their tenants, besides an attachment to their masters, greater force and courage were to be expected from these rustic troops, than from the vicious and enervated populace of cities. Had the parliamentary forces, however, exerted themselves at first, they might have easily dispersed the small number the king had been able to collect, and which amounted to no more than 800 horse, and 300 foot; while his enemies were within a few days march of him with 6000 men. In a short time the parliamentary army were ordered to march to Northampton; and the earl of Essex who had joined them found the whole to amount to 15,000. The king's army too was soon reinforced from all quarters; but still, having no force capable of coping with the parliamentary army, he thought it prudent to retire to Derby, and from thence to Shrewsbury, in order to countenance the levies which his friends were making in those parts. At Wellington, a day's march from Shrewsbury, he made a rendezvous of all his forces, and caused his military orders to be read at the head of every regiment. That he might bind himself by reciprocal obligations, he here professed solemnly before his whole army, that he would maintain the Protestant religion according to the church of England; that he would govern according to the known statutes and customs of the kingdom; and particularly, that he would observe inviolable the laws to which he had given his consent during this parliament, &c.

While Charles lay at Shrewsbury, he received news of an action, the first which had happened in these parts, and wherein his party was victorious. On the appearance of commotions in England, the princes Rupert and Maurice, sons of the unfortunate elector palatine, had offered their service to the king; and the former at that time commanded a body of horse which had been sent to Worcester in order to watch the motions of Essex, who was marching towards that city. No sooner had the prince arrived, than he saw some cavalry of the enemy approaching the gates. Without delay he briskly attacked them, as they were delining from a lane, and forming themselves. Colonel Sandys their commander was killed, the whole party routed, and pursued above a mile.

In 1642, October 23rd, happened a general engagement at Edgehill, in which, though the royalists were Edgehill at first victorious, their impetuosity lost the advantage they had gained, and nothing decisive happened. Five thousand men, it is said, were found dead on the field of battle. Soon after, the king took Banbury and Reading; and defeated two regiments of his enemies at Brentford, taking 500 prisoners. Thus ended the campaign in 1642; in which, though the king had the advantage, yet the parliamentary army amounted to 24,000 men, and was much superior to his; notwithstanding which, his enemies had been so far humbled as to offer terms of peace.

In 1643, the treaty was carried on, but without any cessation of hostilities; and indeed the negociation went no farther than the first demand on each side; for the parliament, finding no likelihood of coming to an accommodation, suddenly recalled their commissioners. On the 27th of April, Reading surrendered to the par- liamatory forces under the earl of Essex, who commanded a body of 18,000 men. The earl of Northumberland united in a league for the king the counties of Northumberland, Cumberland, Westmorland, and the bishopric; and engaged, some time after, other counties in the same association. The same nobleman also took possession of York, and dislodged the forces of the parliament at Tadcaster, but his victory was not decisive. Other advantages were also gained by the royalists; the most important of which was the battle of Stratton, where the poet Waller, who commanded the parliament's army, was entirely defeated, and forced to fly with only a few horses to Bristol. This happened on the 13th of July; and was followed by the siege of that city, which surrendered to prince Rupert on the 25th of the same month.

Though the taking of Bristol had cost the royalists dear, yet such a continued run of successes had greatly dispirited the opposite party; and such confusion now prevailed at London, that some proposed to the king to march directly to that city, which it was hoped might be reduced either by an insurrection of the citizens, by victory, or by treaty, and thus an end put to the civil disorders at once. This advice, however, was rejected, on account of the great number of the London militia; and it was resolved first to reduce Gloucester, in consequence of which the king would have the whole course of the Severn under his command. The rich and malcontent counties of the west, having then lost all protection from their friends, might be enforced to pay large contributions as an atonement for their dissension; an open communication could be preserved between Wales and these new conquests; and half the kingdom being entirely freed from the enemy, and thus united into one firm body, might be employed in re-establishing the king's authority throughout the remainder.

The siege of this city commenced August 10th; but being defended by Massy a resolute governor, and well garrisoned, made a vigorous defence. The conformation at London, however, was as great as if the enemy had been already at their gates; and in the midst of the general confusion, a design was formed by Waller of forcing the parliament to accept of some reasonable conditions of peace. He imparted his design to some others; but a discovery being made of their proceedings, he and two others were condemned to death. Waller, however, escaped with a fine of 10,000l. The city of Gloucester in the mean time was reduced to the utmost extremity; and the parliament, as their last resource, dispatched Essex with an army of 14,000 men, in order to force the king to raise the siege of that city. This he accomplished; and when he entered, found only one barrel of gunpowder left, and other provisions in the same proportion. On his return to London, he was intercepted by the king's army, with whom a most desperate battle ensued at Newbury which lasted till night. Though the victory was left undecided, Essex next morning proceeded on his march, and reached London in safety, where he received the applause for his conduct he deserved. The king followed him on his march; and having taken possession of Reading after the earl left it, he there established a garrison, and straitened by that means London and the quarters of the enemy.

In the north, during this summer, the earl, now created marquis of Newcastle, had raised a considerable force for the king; and great hopes of success were entertained from that quarter. There appeared, however, in opposition to him, two men on whom the event of the war finally depended, and who began about this time to be remarked for their valour and military conduct. These were, Sir Thomas Fairfax, son to the lord of that name; and Oliver Cromwell. The former gained a considerable advantage over the royalists at Wakefield, and took general Goring prisoner; the latter obtained a victory at Gainborough over a party commanded by the gallant Cavendish, who perished in the action. But both these defeats were more than compensated by the total rout of lord Fairfax at Atherton Lord Fairmoor, and the dispersion of his army, which happened six days before on the 31st of July. After this victory, the marquis of Newcastle sat down before Hull with an army of 15,000 men; but being beat off by a sally of the garrison, he suffered so much that he thought proper to raise the siege. About the same time, Manchester, who advanced from the eastern associated counties, having joined Cromwell and young Fairfax, obtained a considerable victory over the royalists at Horn castle; where the two last mentioned officers gained renown by their conduct and gallantry. And though fortune had thus balanced her favours, the king's party still remained much superior in those parts of England; and had it not been for the garrison of Hull, which kept Yorkshire in awe, a conjunction of the northern forces with the army in the south might have been made, and had probably enabled the king, instead of entering on the unfortunate, perhaps imprudent enterprise of Gloucester, to march directly to London, and put an end to the war. The battle of Newbury was attended with such loss on both sides, that it put an end to the campaign of 1643, by obliging both parties to retire into winter quarters.

The event of the war being now very doubtful, the king and parliament began both of them to look for assistance from other nations. The former cast his eyes on Ireland, the latter on Scotland. The parliament of England had ever invited the Scots, from the commencement of the civil dissensions, to interpose their influence in mediation, which they knew would be very little favourable to the king, and which for that reason he had declined. Early in the spring of 1643, this offer of mediation had been renewed, with no better success than before. The commissioners were also empowered to press the king to a compliance with the presbyterian worship and discipline. But this he absolutely refused, as well as to call a parliament in Scotland; so that the commissioners, finding themselves unable to prevail in any one of their demands, returned home highly dissatisfied. The English parliament being now in great distress, gladly sent commissioners to Edinburgh, to treat of a more close confederacy with the Scottish nation. The person they principally trusted to on this occasion was Sir Henry Vane, who in eloquence, address, capacity, as well as in art and dissimulation, was not surpassed even by any one in that age so famous for active talents. By his persuasions was framed at Edinburgh the Solemn League and Covenant; which solemnly effaced all former protestations and vows taken in both league and kingdoms, and long maintained its credit and authority. In this covenant, the subscribers, besides engaging mutually to defend each other against all opponents, bound themselves to endeavour, without respect of persons, the extirpation of popery and prelacy, superstition, heresy, and profaneness; to maintain the rights and privileges of parliaments, together with the king's authority; and to discover and bring to justice all incendiaries and malignants. They vowed also to preserve the reformed religion established in the church of Scotland; but by the artifice of Vane, no declaration more explicit was made with regard to England and Ireland, than that these kingdoms should be reformed according to the word of God, and the example of the purest churches.

Great were the rejoicings among the Scots, that they should be the happy instruments of extending their mode of religion, and dissipating the profound darkness in which the neighbouring nations were involved. And being determined that the sword should carry conviction to all refractory minds, they prepared themselves with great vigilance and activity for their military enterprises; so that, having added to their other forces the troops which they had recalled from Ireland, they were ready about the end of the year to enter England under their old general the earl of Leven, with an army of above 20,000 men. The king, in order to secure himself, concluded a cessation of arms with the Irish rebels, and recalled a considerable part of his army from Ireland. Some Irish catholics came over with these troops, and joined the royal army, where they continued the same cruelties and disorders to which they had been accustomed. The parliament voted, that no quarter in any action should ever be given them. But prince Rupert, by making some reprisals, soon repressed this inhumanity.

The campaign of 1644 proved very unfortunate to the royal cause. The forces brought from Ireland were landed at Moyle in North Wales, and put under the command of lord Biron. They besieged and took the castles of Hawarden, Beeston, Acton, and Deddington-house. No place in Cheshire or the neighbourhood now adhered to the parliament, except Nantwich; and to this place Biron laid siege in the depth of winter. Sir Thomas Fairfax, alarmed at so great a progress, assembled an army of 4000 men in Yorkshire; and having joined Sir William Brereton, was approaching to the camp of the royalists. Biron and his followers, elated with successes in Ireland, entertained a most profound contempt for their enemies. Fairfax suddenly attacked their camp. The swelling of the river by a thaw, divided one part of the army from another. That part exposed to Fairfax, being beat from their post, retired into the church at Acton, where being surrounded, they were all taken prisoners. The other retreated with precipitation; and thus was dissipated or rendered useless that body of forces which had come from Ireland. This happened on the 25th of January; and on the 11th of April, Colonel Bellasis was totally defeated at Selby in Yorkshire by Sir Thomas Fairfax, who had returned from Cheshire with his victorious forces. Being afterwards joined by lord Leven, the two generals sat down before the city of York; but being unable to invest that city completely, they were obliged to content themselves with accommodating it by a loose blockade. Hopeon, having assembled a body of 14,000 men, endeavoured to break into Sussex, Kent, and the southern association, which seemed well disposed to receive him; but was defeated by Waller at Cherington. At Newark, however, prince Rupert totally defeated the parliamentary army which besiegéd that place; and thus preserved the communication open between the king's northern and southern quarters.

The great advantages the parliament had gained in the north, seemed now to second their unwarrantable enterprises, and finally to promise them success. Manchester having taken Lincoln, had united his army to that of Leven and Fairfax; and York was now closely besieged by their numerous forces. That town, tho' York befell by the parliamentarian forces, was vigorously defended by the marquis of Newcastle, was reduced to the last extremity, when prince Rupert, having joined Sir Charles Lucas who commanded Newcastle's horse, hastened to its relief with an army of 20,000 men. The Scots and parliamentary generals raised the siege, and drawing up on Marston moor, proposed to give battle to the royalists. Prince Rupert approached the town by another quarter, and interposing the river Ouse between him and the enemy, safely joined his forces to those of Newcastle. The marquis endeavoured to persuade him, that having so successfully effected his purpose, he ought to be contented with the present advantages, and leave the enemy now much diminished by their losses, and discouraged by their ill success, to dissolve by those mutual dissensions which had begun to take place among them. The prince, however, hurried on by his natural impetuosity, gave immediate orders for fighting. The battle was lost, the royal army entirely pushed off the field, and the train of artillery taken. Immediately after this unfortunate action the marquis of Newcastle left the kingdom, and prince Rupert retired into Lancashire. The city of York was surrendered in a few days, and Newcastle soon after taken by storm.

This was a fatal blow to the royal cause, and far from being balanced by an advantage gained at Croppedy bridge by the king over Waller, or even by the disarming of Essex's forces, which happened on the 1st of September. On the 27th of October, another battle was fought at Newbury, in which the royalists were worsted, but soon after retrieved their honour at Dennington castle, which finished the campaign in 1644.

In 1645, a negociation was again set on foot, and the commissioners met at Uxbridge on the 30th of January; but it was soon found impossible to come to any agreement. The demands of the parliament were exorbitant; and what was worse, their commissioners owned them to be nothing but preliminaries. The king was required to attain, and except from a general pardon, 40 of the most considerable of his English subjects, and 19 of his Scots, together with all the Popish recusants who had borne arms for him. It was inflicted that 48 more, with all the members of either house who had sat in the parliament called by the king at Oxford, all lawyers and divines who had embraced the king's party, should be rendered incapable of any office, be forbid the exercise of their profession, be prohibited from coming within the verge of the court, and forfeit the third of their estates to the parliament. It was required, that whoever had borne arms for the king should forfeit the tenth of their estates; or if that did did not suffice, the fifth, for the payment of public debts. As if royal authority were not sufficiently annihilated by these terms, it was demanded that the court of wards should be abolished; that all the considerable officers of the crown, and all the judges, should be appointed by parliament; and that the right of peace and war should not be exercised without consent of parliament. A little before the commencement of this fruitless treaty, the parliament, to show their determined resolution to proceed in the same haughty imperious method in which they had begun, brought to the block archbishop Laud, who had long been a prisoner in the Tower, and was incapable of giving offence to any.

While the king's affairs thus went to decay in England, they seemed to revive a little in Scotland, thro' the conduct and valour of the earl of Montrose, a young nobleman newly returned from his travels. He had been introduced to the king; but, not meeting with an agreeable reception, had gone over to the covenanters, and been active in forwarding all their violence. Being commissioned, however, by the tables, to wait upon the king while the army lay at Berwick, he was so gained by the civilities and carefrees of that monarch, that he thenceforth devoted himself entirely, though secretly, to his service. For attempting to form an association in favour of the royal cause, Montrose was quickly thrown into prison; but being again released, he found the king ready to give ear to his counsels, which were of the boldest and most daring kind. Though the whole nation of Scotland was occupied by the covenanters, though great armies were kept on foot by them, and every place guarded by a vigilant administration, he undertook by his own credit, and that of the few friends who remained to the king, to raise such commotions, as would soon oblige those malcontents to recall the forces which had so sensibly thrown the balance in the favours of parliament. The defeat at Marston-moor had left him no hopes of any succours from England; he was therefore obliged to stipulate with the earl of Antrim, a nobleman of Ireland, for some supply of men from that country. And himself having used various disguises, and passed through many dangers, arrived in Scotland, where he lay for some time concealed in the borders of the Highlands.

The Irish did not exceed 1100 foot, very ill armed. Montrose immediately put himself at their head; and, being joined by 1300 Highlanders, attacked lord Elcho, who lay at Perth with 6000 men, utterly defeated him, and killed 2000 of the covenanters. He next marched northwards, in order to rouse again the marquis of Huntly and the Gordons, who had taken arms before, but been suppressed by the covenanters. At Aberdeen he attacked and entirely defeated lord Burley, who commanded 2500 men. Montrose, however, by this victory, did not obtain the end he proposed; the marquis of Huntly showed no inclination to join an army where he was so much eclipsed by the general.

Montrose was now in a very dangerous situation. Argyle, reinforced by the earl of Lothian, was behind him with a great army. The militia of the northern counties, Murray, Rois, and Caithness, to the number of 5000, opposed him in front, and guarded the banks of the Spey, a deep and rapid river. In order to save his troops, he turned aside into the hills; and after some marches and countermarches, Argyle came up with him at Fairly castle; and here after some skirmishes, in which he was always victorious, Montrose got clear of a superior army, and by a quick march through these almost inaccessible mountains put himself absolutely beyond their power.

It was the misfortune of this general, that very good or very ill fortune were equally destructive of his army. After every victory his Scots soldiers went home to enjoy the spoil they had acquired; and had his army been composed of these only, he must have soon been abandoned altogether; but his Irishmen having no place to which they could retire, adhered to him in every fortune. With these, therefore, and some reinforcements of the Atholemen and Macdonalds, Montrose fell suddenly upon Argyle's country, letting loose upon it all the horrors of war. Argyle, collecting 3000 men, marched in quest of the enemy, who had retired with their plunder; and he lay at Innerloch, supposing himself to be still at a good distance from them. The earl of Seaforth, at the head of the garrison of Inverness, and a body of 5000 new-levied troops, pressed the royalists on the other side, and threatened them with total destruction. By a quick and unexpected march, Montrose hastened to Innerloch, and presented himself in order of battle before the covenanters. Argyle alone, seized with a panic, deserted his army. They made a vigorous resistance, however; but were at last defeated and pursued with great slaughter: after which, Montrose was joined by great numbers of Highlanders; Seaforth's army dispersed itself; and the lord Gordon, eldest son to the marquis of Huntly, having escaped from his uncle Argyle, who had hitherto detained him, now joined Montrose with a considerable number of his followers, attended by the earl of Aboyne.

The council at Edinburgh, alarmed at these victories, sent for Baillie, an officer of reputation, from England; and, joining him in command with Urrey, sent them with a considerable army against the royalists. Montrose, with a detachment of 800 men, had attacked Dundee, a town extremely attached to the covenant; and having carried it by assault, had given it up to be plundered by his soldiers; when Baillie and Urrey with their whole force came upon him. He instantly called off his soldiers from the plunder; put them in order; secured his retreat by the most skilful measures; and having marched 60 miles in the face of an enemy much superior, without stopping, or allowing his soldiers the least sleep or refreshment, at last secured himself in the mountains. His antagonists now divided their forces, in order to carry on the war against an enemy who surprised them as much by the rapidity of his marches as by the boldness of his enterprises. Urrey met him with 4000 men, at Alderne near Inverness; and trusting to his superiority in numbers (for Montrose had two armies, only 2000 men), attacked him in the poll which he had chosen. Montrose, having placed his right wing in strong ground, drew the bell of his forces to the other, and left no main body between them; a defect which he artfully concealed by shewing a few men through trees and bushes with which that ground was covered. That Urrey might have no leisure to perceive the stratagem, he instantly led his wing to the charge, made a furious attack on the covenanters, drove them them off the field, and obtained a complete victory over them. Baillie now advanced, in order to revenge Urrey's defeat; but he himself met with a like fate at Alford. Montrose, weak in cavalry, lined his troops of horse with infantry; and, after putting the enemy's horse to rout, fell with united force upon their foot, which were entirely cut in pieces, though with the loss of the gallant lord Gordon on the part of the royalists.

Having thus prevailed in so many battles, which his vigour always rendered as decisive as they were successful, he prepared for marching into the southern provinces, in order to put a total period to the power of the covenanters, and dissipate the parliament, which with great pomp and solemnity they had ordered to meet at St Johnstone's.

While Montrose was thus signalizing his valour in the north, Fairfax, or rather Oliver Cromwell under his name, employed himself in bringing in a new model into the parliamentary army, and throwing the whole troops into a different shape; and never surely was a more singular army established, than that which was now set on foot by the parliament. To the greatest number of the regiments chaplains were not appointed. The officers assumed the spiritual duty, and united it with their military functions. During the intervals of action they occupied themselves in sermons, prayers, and exhortations. Rapturous ecstasies supplied the place of study and reflection; and while the zealous devotees poured out their thoughts in unpremeditated harangues, they milked that eloquence, which to their own surprize, as well as that of others, flowed in upon them, for divine illuminations, and lapilices of the Holy Spirit. Wherever they were quartered, they excluded the minister from his pulpit; and, usurping his place, conveyed their sentiments to the audience with all the authority that followed their power, their valour, and their military exploits, united to their apparent zeal and fervour. The private soldiers were feasted with the same spirit; and in short, such an enthusiasm seized the whole army as was perhaps scarce ever equalled.

The royalists ridiculed this fanaticism of the parliamentary armies, without being sensible how much reason they had to dread it. They were at this time equal, if not superior, in numbers to their enemies; but so licentious, that they were become more formidable to their friends than their enemies. The commanders were most of them men of dissolute characters; in the west especially, where Goring commanded, universal spoil and havoc were committed; and the whole country was laid waste by the rapine of the army; so that the most devoted friends both to the church and state wished there for such success to the parliamentary forces as might put an end to these disorders.

The natural consequence of such enthusiasm in the parliamentary army, and licentiousness in that of the king, was, that equal numbers of the latter would no longer maintain their ground against the former. This appeared in the decisive battle of Naseby, where the forces were nearly equal; but after an obstinate engagement, Charles was entirely defeated, 500 of his officers and 4000 private men made prisoners, all his artillery and ammunition taken, and his infantry totally dispersed; so that scarce any victory could be more complete.

After this fatal battle, the king retired first to Hereford, then to Abergavenny; and remained some time in Wales, from the vain hope of raising a body of infantry in these quarters already harried and exhausted. His affairs now, however, went to ruin in all quarters. Fairfax retook Leicester on the 17th of June. On the 16th of July, he raised the siege of Taunton; and the royalists retired to Lampart, an open town in the county of Somerset. Here they were attacked by Fairfax, and beat from their post, with the loss of 300 killed and 1400 taken prisoners. This was followed by the loss of Bridgewater, which Fairfax took three days after; making the garrison, to the number of 2600 men, prisoners of war. He then reduced Bath and Sharburn; and on the 11th of September Bristol was surrendered to him by prince Rupert, though a few days before he had boasted in a letter to Charles, that he would defend the place for four months. This enraged the king, that he immediately recalled all the prince's commissions, and sent him a pass to go beyond sea.

The Scots in the meantime, having made themselves masters of Carlisle after an obstinate siege, marched southwards and invested Hereford; but were obliged to raise the siege on the king's approach. And this was the last glimpse of success that attended his arms. Having marched to the relief of Chester, which was anew besieged by the parliamentary forces under colonel Jones, his rear was attacked by Pointz, and an engagement immediately ensued. While the fight was continued with great obstinacy, and victory seemed to incline to the royalists, Jones fell upon them from the other side, and defeated them with the loss of 600 killed and 1000 taken prisoners. The king with the remains of his army fled to Newark; and from thence escaped first to Oxford, where he shut himself up during the winter season.

After the surrender of Bristol, Fairfax and Cromwell, having divided their forces, the former marched westwards in order to complete the conquest of Devonshire and Cornwall; the latter attacked the king's garrisons which lay the east of Bristol. Nothing was able to stand before these victorious generals; every town was obliged to submit, and every body of troops that pretended to resist were utterly defeated. At last, news arrived, that Montrose himself, after some more successes, was defeated; and thus the only hope of the royal party was destroyed.

When that brave general descended into the southern counties, the covenanters, assembling their whole forces, met him with a numerous army, and gave him battle at Killyth. Here he obtained his most memorable victory: 6000 of the covenanters were killed on the spot, and no remains of an army left them in Scotland. Many noblemen, who secretly favoured the royal cause, now declared openly for it, when they saw a force able to support them. The marquis of Douglas, the earls of Annandale and Hartfield, the lords Fleming, Seton, Maderty, Carnegy, with many others, flocked to the royal standard. Edinburgh opened its gates, and gave liberty to all the prisoners there detained by the covenanters. Among the rest was lord Ogilvy, son to Airly, whose family had contributed very much to the victory gained at Killyth.—David Leffy was detached from the army in England, and marched to the relief of his distressed party in Scotland. Montrose advanced ced still further to the south, allured by the vain hopes, both of roofing to arms the earls of Hume, Traquair, and Roxborough, who had promised to join him; and of obtaining from England some supply of cavalry, in which he was very deficient. By the negligence of his scouts, Lely, at Philip-baugh in the forest, surprized his army, much diminished in numbers from the defection of the Highlanders, who had retired to the hills, according to custom, to secure their plunder. After a sharp conflict, in which Montrose exerted great valour, his forces were routed by Lely's cavalry, and he himself forced to fly to the mountains.

Nothing could be more affecting than the situation in which the king now was. He now resolved to grant the parliament their own terms, and sent them repeated messages to this purpose, but they never deigned to make him the least reply. At last, after reproaching him with the blood spilt during the war, they told him that they were preparing some bills, to which, if he would content, they would then be able to judge of his pacific inclinations. Fairfax, in the mean time, was advancing with a victorious army in order to lay siege to Oxford; and Charles, rather than submit to be taken captive and led in triumph by his insolent subjects, resolved to give himself up to the Scots, who had never testified such implacable animosity against him, and to trust to their loyalty for the rest. After passing through many bye-ways and cross-roads, he arrived in company with only two persons, Dr Hudson and Mr Ashburnham, at the Scots camp before Newark, and discovered himself to lord Leven their general.

The reception he met with was such as might be expected from these intemperate bigots, destitute of every principle of reason, honour, or humanity. Instead of endeavouring to alleviate the distresses of their sovereign, they suffered him to be insulted by the clergymen. They immediately sent an account of his arrival to the English parliament, and they as quickly entered into a treaty with the Scots about delivering up their prisoner. The Scots thought this a proper time for the recovery of their arrears due to them by the English. A great deal was really due them, and they claimed much more than actually belonged to them. At last, after various debates between them and the parliament, in which they pretended to great honour, and insisted upon many punctilios, it was agreed, that, upon payment of 400,000l. the Scots should deliver up the king to his enemies; and this was cheerfully complied with. Thus the Scots justly fell under the censure of having sold their king who had thrown himself upon their mercy; a stain peculiar to the nation, and unparalleled in history either ancient or modern. It must, however, be acknowledged, that the infamy of this bargain had such an influence on the Scots parliament, that they once voted that the king should be protected, and his liberty insured on. But the general assembly interposed; and pronounced, that as he had refused to take the covenant which was prefixed on him, it became not the godly to concern themselves about his fortunes. In consequence of this, the parliament were obliged to retract their vote. The king, being delivered over to the English commissioners, was conducted under a guard to Holdenby in the county of Northampton, where he was very rigorously confined; his ancient servants being dismissed, himself debarred from visits, and all communication cut off with his friends or family.

The civil war being now over, the king absolved his followers from their allegiance, and the parliament had now no enemy to fear but their own troops. From this quarter their danger only arose; and it was not long before they found themselves in the same unfortunate situation to which they had reduced the king. The majority of the house were presbyterians, but the majority of the army were independents. The former, soon after the retreat of the Scots, seeing everything reduced to obedience, proposed to disband a considerable part of the army, and send the rest over to Ireland. This was by no means relished, and Cromwell took care to heighten the disaffection. Instead of preparing to disband, therefore, the soldiers resolved to petition; and they began by desiring an indemnity, ratified by the king, for any illegal actions which they might have committed during the war. The commons voted that this petition tended to introduce mutiny, &c. and threatened to proceed against the promoters of it as enemies to the state and disturbers of the public peace. The army now began to set up for themselves. In opposition to the parliament at Westminster, a military parliament was formed. The principal officers formed a council to represent the body of peers; the soldiers elected two men out of each company to represent the commons, and these were called the agitators of the army; and of this assembly Cromwell took care to be a member. The new parliament soon found many grievances to be redressed; and specified some of the most considerable. The commons were obliged to yield to every request, and the demands of the agitators rose in proportion. The commons accused the army of mutiny and sedition; the army retorted the charge, and alleged that the king had been depoed only to make way for their usurpations. Cromwell, in the mean time, who Cromwell secretly conducted all the measures of the army, while others he exclaimed against their violence, resolved to seize the king's person. Accordingly a party of 500 horse appeared at Holmby castle, under the command of one Joyce, originally a taylor, but now a cornet; and by this man was the king conducted to the army, who were hastening to their rendezvous at Triplo-heath near Cambridge. Next day Cromwell arrived among them, where he was received with acclamations of joy, and immediately invested with the supreme command.

The commons now saw the designs of the army; but it was too late, all resistance was become vain; Cromwell advanced with precipitation, and was in a few days at St Albans. Even submission was now to no purpose; the army still rose in their demands, in proportion as these demands were gratified, till at last they claimed a right of modelling the whole government, and settling the nation.

Cromwell began with accusing eleven members of the house, the very leaders of the presbyterian party, as guilty of high treason, and being enemies of the army. The commons were willing to protect them; but the army insisting on their disfranchisement, they voluntarily left the house. At last the citizens of London, finding the constitution totally overturned, and a military despotism beginning to take place, instead of the kingly one they were formerly afraid of, began to think seriously of suppressing the insolence of the troops. The common council assembled the militia of the city; the works were... manned; and a manifesto published, aggravating the hostile intentions of the army. Finding that the commons, in compliance with the request of the army, had voted that the city-militia should be disbanded, the multitude rose, besieged the door of the house, and obliged them to reverse that vote they had so lately passed. The assembly was, of consequence, divided into two parties; the greater part siding with the citizens; but the minority, with the two speakers at their head, were for encouraging the army. Accordingly the two speakers, with 62 of the members, secretly retired from the house, and threw themselves under the protection of the army who were then at Hounslow-heath. They were received with shouts and acclamations; their integrity was extolled; and the whole force of the soldiery, to the number of 20,000 men, now moved forward to reinstate them in their places.

In the mean time, the part of the house which was left, resolved to resist the encroachments of the army. They chose new speakers, gave orders for enlisting troops, ordered the train-bands to man the lines; and the whole city boldly resolved to resist the invasion. But this resolution only held while the enemy was at a distance; for when Cromwell appeared, all was obedience and submission: the gates were opened to the general, who attended the two speakers and the rest of the members peaceably to their habitations. The eleven impeached members being accused as causes of the tumult, were expelled; and most of them retired to the continent. The mayor, sheriffs, and three aldermen, were sent to the tower; several citizens, and officers of the militia, were committed to prison; and, the lines about the city levelled with the ground. The command of the Tower was given to Fairfax, the general; and the parliament ordered him their hearty thanks for disobeying their commands.

It now only remained to dispose of the king, who remained a prisoner at Hampton-court. The independent army, at the head of whom was Cromwell, on one hand; and the presbyterians, in name of both houses, on the other; treated with him separately in private. He had sometimes even hopes, that, in these struggles for power, he might have been chosen mediator in the dispute; and he expected that the kingdom at last, being sensible of the miseries of anarchy, would of its own accord be hushed into its former tranquil condition. At this time he was treated with some flattering marks of distinction; he was permitted to converse with his old servants; his chaplains were admitted to attend him, and celebrate divine service their own way. But the most exquisite pleasure he enjoyed was in the company of his children, with whom he had several interviews. The meeting on these occasions was so pathetic, that Cromwell himself, who was once present, could not help being moved; and was heard to declare, that he never beheld such an affecting scene before. But these instances of respect were of no long continuance. As soon as the army had gained a complete victory over the house of commons, the king was treated not only with the greatest disrespect, but even kept in continual alarms for his own personal safety. The consequence of this was, that Charles at last resolved to withdraw himself from the kingdom. Accordingly, on the 11th of November 1647, attended only by Sir John Berkeley, Ashburnham, and Leg, he privately left Hampton court; and his escape was not discovered till near an hour after; when those who entered his chamber, found on the table some letters directed to the parliament, to the general, and to the officer who had attended him. All night he travelled thro' the forest, and arrived next day at Tichfield, a seat of the earl of Southampton, where resided the countess dowager, a woman of honour, to whom the king knew he might safely entrust his person. Before he arrived at this place, he had gone to the sea coast: and expressed great anxiety that a ship which he seemed to look for, had not arrived. He could not hope to remain long concealed at Tichfield: the question was, what measure should next be embraced? In the neighbourhood lay the Isle of Wight, of which Hammond was governor. This man was entirely dependent on Cromwell, which was a very unfavourable circumstance: yet because the governor Wight, was nephew to Dr Hammond the king's favourite chaplain, and had acquired a good reputation in the army, it was thought proper to have recourse to him in the present exigence, when no other rational expedient could be thought of. Ashburnham and Berkeley were dispatched to the island. They had orders not to inform Hammond of the place where the king lay concealed, till they had first obtained a promise of him not to deliver up his majesty, even though the parliament and army should require him; but restore him to his liberty, if he could not protect him. The promise would have been but a very slender security: yet even without exacting it, Ashburnham imprudently, if not treacherously, brought Hammond to Tichfield; and the king was obliged to put himself into his hands, and to attend him to Caribroke castle in the isle of Wight, where, though he was received with great demonstrations of respect and kindness, he was in reality a prisoner.

While the king continued in this forlorn situation, Cromwell found himself upon the point of losing all the fruits of his former schemes, by having his own principles turned against himself. Among the Independents, who in general were for no ecclesiastical subordination, a set of men grew up called levellers, who disallowed all subordination whatsoever, and declared that they would have no other chaplain, king, or general, but Jesus Christ. Though this would have gone down very well with Cromwell as long as it was only directed against his enemies, he did not so well relish it when applied to himself. Having intimation that the levellers were to meet at a certain place, he unexpectedly appeared before them at the head of his red regiment, which had hitherto been deemed invincible. He demanded, in the name of God, what these meetings and murmurings meant; he expostulated with them upon the danger and consequence of their precipitant schemes, and desired them immediately to depart. Instead of obeying, however, they returned an insolent answer; wherefore, rushing on them in a fury, he laid two of them dead at his feet. His guards dispersing the rest, he caused several of them to be hanged upon the spot, and sent others to London; and thus dissipated a faction no otherwise criminal than in having followed his own example.

Cromwell's authority was greatly increased by the last mentioned action; but it became irresistible in consequence of a new and unexpected addition to his successes. The Scots, perhaps ashamed of the reproach of having sold their king, and stimulated farther by the Independents, who took all occasions to mortify them, raised an army in his favour, and the chief command was given to the earl of Hamilton; while Langdale, who professed himself at the head of the more bigotted party who had taken the covenant, marched at the head of his separate body, and both invaded the north of England. Though these two armies amounted to above 20,000 men, yet Cromwell, at the head of 8000 of his hardy veterans, feared not to give them battle. He attacked them one after another; routed and dispersed them; took Hamilton prisoner; and, following his blow, entered Scotland, the government of which he settled entirely to his satisfaction. An insurrection in Kent was quelled by Fairfax with the same ease; and nothing but success attended all this usurper's attempts.

During these contentions, the king, who was kept a prisoner at Carisbrooke castle, continued to negotiate with the parliament for settling the unspeakable calamities of the kingdom. The parliament now saw no other method of destroying the military power, but to depose it by the kingly. Frequent proposals for an accommodation passed between the captive king and the commons; but the great obstacle which had all along stood in the way, still kept them from agreeing. This was the king's refusing to abolish episcopacy, tho' he consented to alter the liturgy. However, the treaty was still carried on with vigour, and the parliament for the first time seemed in earnest to conclude their negotiations. But all was now too late. The victorious army, with Cromwell at their head, advanced to Windsor, and with furious remonstrances began to demand vengeance on the king. The unhappy monarch had been lately sent under confinement to that place; and from thence he was now conveyed to Hurst-castle in Hampshire, opposite to the isle of Wight. The parliament in the mean time began to issue ordinances for a more effectual opposition to these military encroachments, when they were astonished by a message from Cromwell, that he intended paying them a visit next day with his whole army; and in the mean time ordering them to raise him 40,000l. on the city of London.

The commons, though destitute of all hopes of prevailing, had still the courage to resist, and to attempt in the face of the whole army to finish the treaty they had begun with the king. They had taken into consideration the whole of his concessions; and though they had formerly voted them unsatisfactory, they now renewed the consultation with great vigour. After a violent debate which lasted three days, it was carried in the king's favour by a majority of 129 against 83, that his concessions were a foundation for the hopes to proceed upon in settling the affairs of the nation. This was the last attempt in his favour; for the next day colonel Pride, at the head of two regiments, blockaded the house; and seizing in the passage 41 members of the presbyterian party, sent them to a low room belonging to the house, that passed by the denomination of Hell. Above 160 members more were excluded; and none were allowed to enter but the most furious and determined of the Independents, in all not exceeding 60. This atrocious invasion of parliamentary rights commonly passed by the name of Pride's purge, and the remaining members were called the Rump. These soon voted, that the transactions of the house a few days before were entirely illegal, and that their general's conduct was just and necessary.

Nothing now remained, to complete the wickedness of this parliament, but to murder the king. In this assembly, therefore, composed of the most obscure citizens, and officers of the army, a committee was appointed to bring in a charge against the king; and on their report, a vote passed declaring it treason in a king to levy war against his parliament. It was therefore resolved, that an high court of justice should be appointed, to try his majesty for this new invented treason. For form's sake, they desired the concurrence of the few remaining lords in the upper house; but there was virtue enough left in that body unanimously to reject the proposal. The commons, however, were not to be flopped by so small an obitacle. They voted that the concurrence of the house of lords was unnecessary, and that the people were the origin of all just power. To add to their zeal, a woman of Herefordshire, illuminated by prophetical visions, desired admittance, and communicated a revelation she pretended to have received from heaven. She assured them that their measures were consecrated from above, and ratified by the sanction of the Holy Ghost. This intelligence gave them great comfort, and much confirmed them in their present resolutions.

Colonel Harrison, the son of a butcher, was commanded to conduct the king from Hurst-castle to Windsor, and from thence to London. His afflicted subjects, who ran to have a sight of their sovereign, were greatly affected at the change that appeared in his face and person. He had permitted his beard to grow; his hair was become venerably grey, rather by the pressure of anxiety than the hand of time; while the rest of his apparel bore the marks of misfortune and decay. He had long been attended by an old decrepid servant whose name was Sir Philip Warwick, who could only deplore his master's fate without being able to revenge his cause. All the exterior symbols of sovereignty were now withdrawn, and his attendants had orders to serve him without ceremony. He could not, however, be persuaded that his adversaries would bring him to a formal trial; but he every moment expected to be dispatched by private assassination.

From the 6th to the 20th of January was spent in making preparations for this extraordinary trial. The court of justice consisted of 133 persons named by the commons; but of these never above 70 met upon the trial. The members were chiefly composed of the principal officers of the army, most of them of very mean birth, together with some of the lower house, and a few citizens of London. Bradshaw a lawyer was chosen president; Coke was appointed solicitor for the people of England; Dorislaus, Steele, and Alice, were named assistants. The court sat in Westminster-hall. When the king was brought forward before the court, he was conducted by the mace-bearer to a chair placed within the bar. Though long detained a prisoner, and now produced as a criminal, he still maintained the dignity of a king. His charge was then read by the solicitor, accusing him of having been the cause of all the bloodshed which followed since the commencement of the war; after which Bradshaw directed his discourse to him, and told him that the court expected his answer. The king began his defence with declining the authority of the court. He represented, that having been engaged in treaty with his two houses of parliament, and having finished almost every article, he expected a different treatment from what he had now received. He perceived, he said, no appearance of an upper house, which was necessary to constitute a just tribunal. He alleged that he was himself the king and fountain of law, and consequently could not be tried by laws to which he had never given his assent; that having been intrusted with the liberties of the people, he would not now betray them by recognizing a power founded in usurpation; that he was willing, before a proper tribunal, to enter into the particulars of his defence; but that before them he must decline any apology for his innocence, lest he should be considered as the betrayer of, and not a martyr for, the constitution. Bradshaw, in order to support the authority of the court, insisted, that they had received their authority from the people, the source of all right. He pressed the king not to decline the authority of the court that was delegated by the commons of England, and interrupted and over-ruled him in his attempts to reply. In this manner the king was three times produced before the court, and as often persisted in declining its jurisdiction. The fourth and last time he was brought before this self-created tribunal, as he was proceeding thither, he was insulted by the soldiers and the mob, who cried out, "Justice! justice! Execution! execution!" but he continued undaunted. His judges having now examined some witnesses, by whom it was proved that the king had appeared in arms against the forces commissioned by parliament, they pronounced sentence against him. He seemed very anxious at this time to be admitted to a conference with the two houses, and it was supposed that he intended to resign the crown to his son; but the court refused compliance, and considered his request as an artifice to delay justice.

The behaviour of Charles under all these instances of low-bred malice was great, firm, and equal. In going through the hall from this execrable tribunal, the soldiers and rabble were again instigated to cry out, Justice and execution! They reviled him with the most bitter reproaches. Among other insults, one insolent presumed to spit in the face of his sovereign. He patiently bore their insolence: "Poor souls (cried he), they would treat their generals in the same manner for subsistence." Those of the populace who still retained the feelings of humanity expressed their sorrow in sighs and tears. A soldier more compassionate than the rest could not help imploring a blessing on his royal head. An officer overhearing him, struck the honest centinel to the ground before the king; who could not help saying, that the punishment exceeded the offence.

At his return to Whitehall, Charles desired permission of the house to see his children, and to be attended in his private devotions by Dr Juxon late bishop of London. These requests were granted, and also three days to prepare for execution. Every night between his sentence and execution, the king slept sound as usual, though the noise of the workmen employed in framing the scaffold continually resounded in his ears. The fatal morning being at last arrived, he rose early; and calling one of his attendants, he bad him employ more than usual care in dressing him, and preparing him for so great a solemnity. The street before Whitehall was the place destined for his execution; for it was intended that this should increase the severity of his punishment. He was led through the banqueting-house to the scaffold adjoining to that edifice, attended by his friend and servant bishop Juxon, a man of the same mild and steady virtues with his master. The scaffold, which was covered with black, was guarded by a regiment of soldiers under the command of colonel Tomlinson; and on it were to be seen the block, the ax, and two executioners in masques. The people, in crowds, stood at a greater distance. The king surveyed all these solemn preparations with calm composure; and, as he could not expect to be heard by the people at a distance, he addressed himself to the few persons who stood round him. He there justified his own innocence in the late fatal wars; he observed, that he had not taken arms till after the parliament had thrown him the example; and that he had no other object in his warlike preparations, than to preserve that authority entire which had been transmitted to him by his ancestors. But, though innocent towards his people, he acknowledged the equity of his execution in the eyes of his Maker; he owned that he was justly punished for having consented to the execution of an unjust sentence against the earl of Strafford. He forgave all his enemies; exhorted the people to return to their obedience, and acknowledge his son as his successor; and signified his attachment to the Protestant religion as professed by the church of England. So strong was the impression made by his dying words on those who could hear him, that colonel Tomlinson himself, to whose care he had been committed, acknowledged himself a convert. At one blow his head was severed from his body. The other executioner then, holding up the head, exclaimed, "This is the head of a traitor."

It is impossible to describe the grief, indignation, and astonishment, which took place, not only among the spectators, who were overwhelmed with a flood of sorrow, but throughout the whole nation, as soon as the report of this fatal execution was conveyed to them. Each blamed himself either with active disloyalty to the king, or a passive compliance with his destroyers. The very pulpits that used to reform with insolence and sedition were now bedewed with tears of unfeigned repentance; and all united in their detestation of those dark hypocrites who, to satisfy their own enmity, involved a whole nation in the guilt of treason.—Charles was executed on the 30th of January 1649, in the 49th year of his age, and 24th of his reign. He was of a middling stature, robust, and well-proportioned. His visage was pleasant, but melancholy; and it is probable that the continual troubles in which he was involved might have made that impression on his countenance.

It being remarked, that the king, the moment before he stretched out his neck to the executioner, had said to Juxon, with a very earnest accent, the single word Remember; great mysteries were supposed to be concealed under that word; and the generals vehemently insisted with the prelate that he should inform them of the king's meaning. Juxon told them, that the king, having frequently charged him to incite on his son the forgiveness of his murderers, had taken this opportunity in the last moment of his life, when his commands, commande, he supposed, would be regarded as sacred and inviolable, to reiterate that desire; and that his mild spirit thus terminated its present course by an act of benevolence to his greatest enemies.

The dissolution of the monarchy in England soon followed the death of the monarch. When the peers met on the day appointed in their adjournment, they entered upon business; and sent down some votes to the commons, of which the latter deigned not to take the least notice. In a few days after, the commons voted, that the house of lords was useless and dangerous; for which reason it was abolished. They voted it high treason to acknowledge Charles Stuart, son of the late king, as successor to the throne. A great seal was made; on one side of which were engraved the arms of England and Ireland, with this inscription, "The great seal of England." On the reverse was represented the house of commons sitting, with this motto: "On the first year of freedom, by God's blessing restored, 1648." The forms of all public business were changed from being transacted in the king's name, to that of the keepers of the liberties of England. The court of king's bench was called the court of public bench. Nay, so cautious on this head, it is said, were some of the republicans, that, in reciting the Lord's prayer, they would not say, "thy kingdom," but "thy commonwealth, come." The king's statue in the exchange was thrown down; and on the pedestal these words were inscribed: Exit tyrannus, regnum ultimum; "The tyrant is gone, the last of the kings." The commons, it is said, intended to bind the princess Elizabeth apprentice to a button-maker; the duke of Gloucester was to be taught some other mechanical employment; but the former soon died, of grief, as is supposed; for her father's tragic end; the latter was sent beyond sea by Cromwell.

The commons next proceeded to punish those who had been most remarkable for their attachment to their late sovereign. The duke of Hamilton, lord Capel, and the earl of Holland, were condemned and executed; the earl of Norwich and Sir John Owen were also condemned, and afterwards pardoned. These executions irritated the Scots; their loyalty began to return; and the influence of the independents, with their victories, inflamed them still more. They determined, therefore, to acknowledge prince Charles for their king, but at the same time to abridge his power by every limitation which they had attempted to impose on his father.

Charles, after the death of his father, having passed some time at Paris, and finding no likelihood of assistance from that quarter, was glad to accept of any conditions. The Scots, however, while they were thus professing loyalty to their king, were nevertheless cruelly punishing his adherents. Among others, the brave marquis of Montrose was taken prisoner, as he endeavoured to raise the Highlanders in the royal cause; and, being brought to Edinburgh, was hanged on a gibbet 30 feet high, then quartered, and his limbs flung up in the principal towns of the kingdom. Yet, notwithstanding all this severity, Charles ventured into Scotland, and had the mortification to enter the gate of Edinburgh where the limbs of that faithful adherent were still exposed.

The young king soon found that he had only exchanged his exile for imprisonment. He was surrounded and incessantly importuned by the fanatical clergymen, who, having brought royalty under their feet, were resolved to keep it still subservient, and to trample upon it with all the contumely of upstarts. Charles pretended to give ear to their discourses; but, however, made an attempt to escape. He was overtaken and brought back; when he owned the greatness of his faults, and testified his repentance for what he had done. Cromwell, in the mean time, who had been appointed by the parliament to command the army in Ireland, prosecuted the war in that kingdom with his usual success. He had to encounter the royalists commanded by the duke of Ormond, and the native Irish led on by O'Neal. These troops he quickly overcame; and most of the towns, intimidated by his cruelty, opened their gates at his approach. He was on the point of reducing the whole kingdom, when he was recalled by the parliament to defend his country against the Scots, who had raised a considerable army in support of the royal cause.

On the return of Cromwell to England, he was chosen commander-in-chief of the parliamentary forces, in the room of Fairfax, who declined opposing the presbyterians. The new general immediately set forward for Scotland with an army of 16,000 men, where he was opposed by general Leslie, who formed an excellent plan for his own defence. This prudent commander, knowing his men to be inferior in valour and discipline, however superior in numbers, to those of Cromwell, kept himself carefully in his intrenchments. At last Cromwell was drawn into a very disadvantageous post near Dunbar, where his antagonist waited deliberately to take advantage of him. From this imminent danger, however, he was delivered by the madness of the Scots clergy. They, it seems, had been wrestling in prayer with the Lord night and day, and at last fancied that they had obtained the superiority. Revelations were made them, that the heretical army, together with Agag their general, would be delivered into their hand. Upon the assurances of these visions, they obliged their general to defend into the plain, and give the English battle. When Cromwell saw this mad action, he assured his followers, that the Lord had delivered them into his hands, and ordered his army to sing psalms, as if already certain of victory. The Scots, though double the number of the English, were soon put to flight, and pursued with great slaughter, while Cromwell did not lose in all above 40 men.

After this defeat, Charles put himself at the head of the remains of his army; and these he further strengthened by the royalists, who had been for some time excluded from his service by the covenanters. He was so closely pursued by Cromwell, however, that he soon found it impossible to maintain his army. Observing, therefore, that the way was open to England, he immediately directed his march towards that country, where he expected to be reinforced by all the royalists in that part of the kingdom. In this, however, he was deceived: the English, terrified at the name of his opponent, dreaded to join him. But his mortification was greatly increased, when at Worcester he was informed, that Cromwell was marching with hasty strides from Scotland with an army of 40,000 men. This news was Charles scarcely arrived, when Cromwell himself was there. He fell upon the town on all sides: the whole Scots army was... was either killed or taken prisoners; and the king himself, having given many proofs of personal valour, was obliged to fly.

The young king now entered upon a scene of adventures the most romantic that can be imagined. After his hair was cut off, the better to disguise his person, he worked for some days in the habit of a peasant, cutting faggots in a wood. He next made an attempt to retire into Wales, under the conduct of one Pendrel, a poor farmer, who was sincerely attached to his cause. In this attempt, however, he was disappointed; every path being guarded to prevent their escape. Being obliged to return, he met one colonel Carclefs, who had escaped the carnage at Worcester. In his company the king was obliged to climb a spreading oak; among the thick branches of which they spent the day together, while they heard the foldiers of the enemy in pursuit of them below. From thence he passed with imminent danger, feeling all the varieties of famine, fatigue, and pain, till he arrived at the house of colonel Lane, a zealous royalist in Staffordshire. There he deliberated about the means of escaping into France; and Bristol being supposed the properest port, it was resolved that he should ride thither before this gentleman's return, on a visit to one Mrs Norton, who lived in the neighbourhood of that city. During this journey, he every day met with persons whose faces he knew, and at one time passed through a whole regiment of the enemy's army.

When they arrived at Mrs Norton's, the first person they saw was one of his own chaplains sitting at the door, and amusing himself with seeing people play at bowls. The king, after having taken proper care of his horse in the stable, was shewn to an apartment which Mrs Lane had provided for him, as it was said he had theague. The butler, however, being sent to him with some refreshment, no sooner beheld his face, which was very pale with anxiety and fatigue, than he recollected his king and master; and, falling on his knees, while the tears streamed down his cheeks, cried out, "I am rejoiced to see your majesty." The king was alarmed; but made the butler promise that he would keep the secret from every mortal, even from his master; and the honest servant punctually obeyed him.

No ship being found that would for a month set sail from Bristol either for France or Spain, the king was obliged to go elsewhere for a passage. He therefore repaired to the house of colonel Wyndham in Dorsetshire, where he was cordially received. His mother, a venerable matron, seemed to think the end of her life nobly rewarded in having it in her power to give protection to her king. She expressed no dissatisfaction at having lost three sons and one grandchild in the defence of his cause, since she was honoured in being instrumental in his own preservation.

Pursuing from thence his journey to the sea-side, he once more had a very narrow escape at a little inn, where he let up for the night. The day had been appointed for a solemn fast; and a fanatical weaver, who had been a soldier in the parliamentary army, was preaching against the king in a little chapel fronting the house. Charles, to avoid suspicion, was himself among the audience. It happened that a smith, of the same principles with the weaver, had been examining the horses belonging to the passengers, and came to assure the preacher, that he knew by the fashion of the shoes, that one of the strangers' horses came from the north. The preacher immediately affirmed, that this horse could belong to no other than Charles Stuart, and instantly went with a constable to search the inn. But Charles had taken timely precautions, and left the inn before the constable's arrival.

At Shoreham, in Sussex, a vessel was at last found, in which he embarked. He was known to so many, that, if he had not set sail at that critical moment, it had been impossible for him to escape. After 41 days concealment, he arrived safely at Fecamp in Normandy. No less than 40 men and women had, at different times, been privy to his escape.

Cromwell in the mean time returned in triumph; and his first care was to depress the Scots, on account of their having withheld the work of the gospel as he called it. An act was passed for abolishing royalty in Scotland, and annexing that kingdom as a conquered province to the English commonwealth. It was empowered, however, to send some members to the English parliament. Judges were appointed to distribute justice; and the people of that country, now freed from the tyranny of the ecclesiastics, were not much dissatisfied with the government.

All parts of the British dominions being now reduced to perfect subjection to the parliament, they next the Dutch, resolved to chastise the Dutch, who had given but very slight causes of complaint. It happened that one Dr Dorilus, who was of the number of the late king's judges, being sent by the parliament as their envoy to Holland, was assassinated by one of the royal party who had taken refuge there. Some time after, also, Mr St John, appointed their ambassador to that court, was insulted by the friends of the prince of Orange. These were thought sufficient reasons for a declaration of war against the Hollanders by the commonwealth of England. The parliament's chief dependence lay in the activity and courage of Blake their admiral; who, though he had not embarked in naval command till late in life, yet surpassed all that went before him in courage and dexterity. On the other side, the Dutch opposed to him their famous admiral Van Tromp, to whom their country never since produced an equal. Many were the engagements between these celebrated admirals, and various was their success. Several dreadful encounters served rather to show the excellency of the admirals, than to determine their superiority. At last the Dutch, who felt many great disadvantages by the loss of their trade, and by the total suspension of their fisheries, were willing to treat of peace. The parliament, however, gave but a very unfavourable answer. They studied to keep their navy on foot as long as they could; rightly judging, that, while the force of the nation was exerted by sea, it would diminish the formidable power of Cromwell by land.

This great aspirer, however, quickly perceived their designs; and therefore, secure in the attachment of the army, resolved to seize the sovereign power. He persuaded the officers to present a petition for payment of arrears, and redress of grievances. His orders were obeyed; a petition was drawn up and presented, in which the officers, after demanding their arrears, desired the parliament to consider how many years they had sat, and what pretensions they had formerly made of of their designs to new-model the house, and establish freedom on its broadest basis. They alleged, that it was now full time to give place to others; and however meritorious their actions might have been, yet the rest of the nation had some right, in their turn, to manifest their patriotism in defense of their country. The house was highly offended: they appointed a committee to prepare an act, ordaining that all persons who presented such petitions for the future should be deemed guilty of high treason. To this the officers made a very warm remonstrance, and the parliament as angry as ever. Cromwell, being informed of this altercation, started up in the utmost seeming fury, and turning to major Vernon, cried out, that "he was compelled to do a thing that made the very hair of his head stand on end." Then, hastening to the house with 300 soldiers, and with the marks of violent indignation on his countenance, he entered, took his place, and attended to the debates for some time. When the question was ready to be put, he suddenly started up, and began to load the parliament with the vilest reproaches for their tyranny, ambition, oppression, and robbery of the public. Upon which, stamping with his foot, which was the signal for the soldiers to enter, the place was immediately filled with armed men. Then, addressing himself to the members, "For shame," (said he), "get you gone. Give place to honest men; to those who will more faithfully discharge their trust. You are no longer a parliament; I tell you, you are no longer a parliament; the Lord has done with you." Sir Harry Vane exclaiming against this conduct, "Sir Harry! (cries Cromwell with a loud voice), O Sir Harry Vane! The Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane!" Taking hold then of one of the members by his cloak, "Thou art a whoremaster," cries he; to another, "Thou art an adulterer;" to a third, "Thou art a drunkard;" to a fourth, "Thou art a glutton, &c." "It is you, (continued he to the members), that have forced me upon this. I have fought the Lord night and day, that he would rather flay me than put me upon this work." Then, pointing to the mace, "Take away that bauble," cried he; after which, turning out all the members, and clearing the hall, he ordered the doors to be locked; and putting the keys in his pocket, returned to Whitehall.

Thus, the whole civil and military power centered in Cromwell, who by this bold transaction became, in effect, king of Great Britain, with uncontrollable authority. Being willing, however, to amuse the people with the form of a commonwealth, he proposed to give his subjects a parliament; but such an one as should be altogether obedient to his commands. For this purpose it was decreed, that the sovereign power should be vested in 144 persons, under the denomination of a parliament; and he undertook to make the choice himself. The persons pitched upon were the lowest, meanest, and most ignorant among the citizens, and the very dregs of the fanatics. To go further than others in the absurdities of fanaticism was the chief qualification upon which each of these valued himself. Their very names, borrowed from scripture, and rendered ridiculous by their misapplication, served to show their excesses of folly. One of them particularly, who was called Praife-God Barebone, a canting leather-seller, gave his name to this odd assembly, and it was called Barebone's parliament. They were chiefly composed of Antinomians; a sect that, after receiving the spirit, supposed themselves incapable of error; and the fifth-monarchy-men, who every hour expected Christ's second coming on earth. They began by chusing eight of their tribe to seek the Lord in prayer, while the rest calmly sat down to deliberate upon the suppression of the clergy, the universities, and courts of justice; and instead of all this, it was their intent to substitute the law of Moses.

It was impossible such a legislature as this could stand; even the vulgar began to exclaim against it, and gain turned out. Cromwell himself to be ashamed of their absurdities. He had carefully chosen many persons among them who were entirely devoted to his interests, and these he commanded to disperse the assembly. These accordingly met by concert earlier than the rest of their fraternity; and observing to each other that this parliament had sat long enough, they hastened to Cromwell, with Rouse their speaker at their head, and into his hands resigned the authority with which he had invested them. Cromwell accepted their resignation with pleasure; but being told that some of their number were refractory, he sent colonel White to clear the house of such as ventured to remain there. They had placed one Moyer in the chair by the time that the colonel had arrived; and he being asked by the colonel what they did there, Moyer replied very gravely, "That they were seeking the Lord." "Then you may go elsewhere," (cried White); "for, to my certain knowledge, the Lord hath not been here these many years."

The shadow of a parliament being thus dissolved, the Cromwell officers, by their own authority, declared Cromwell protector of the commonwealth of England. The mayor and aldermen were sent for to give solemnity to his appointment, and he was instituted into his new office at Whitehall, in the palace of the kings of England. He was to be addressed by the title of Highness; and his power was proclaimed in London, and other parts of the kingdom. It was now, indeed, in a great measure necessary that some person should take the supreme command; for affairs were brought into such a situation, by the furious animosities of the contending parties, that nothing but absolute power could prevent a renewal of former bloodshed and confusion. The government of the kingdom was adjusted in the following manner. A council was appointed, which the government was not to exceed 21, nor to be under 13 persons. These were to enjoy their offices for life, or during good behaviour; and, in case of a vacancy, the remaining members named three, of whom the protector chose one. The protector was appointed the supreme magistrate of the commonwealth, with such powers as the king was possessed of. The power of the sword was vested in him jointly with the parliament when sitting, or with the council at others. He was obliged to summon a parliament once every three years, and to allow them to sit five months without adjournment. A standing army was established of 20,000 foot, and 10,000 horse; and funds were assigned for their support. The protector enjoyed his office for life; and on his death, his place was to be supplied by the council. Of all these clauses the standing army was sufficient for Cromwell's purpose; for, while possessed of that instrument, he could mould the rest of the constitution to his pleasure. at any time. He chose his council from among his officers, who had been the companions of his dangers and victories, to each of whom he assigned a pension of 1000 l. a-year. He took care to have his troops, upon whose fidelity he depended for support, paid a month in advance; the magazines were also well provided, and the public treasure managed with frugality and care; while his activity, vigilance, and resolution, were so well exerted, that he discovered every conspiracy against his person, and every plot for an insurrection, before they took effect.

Thus Cromwell continued to govern, though without assuming the title of king, in as absolute a manner as the most despotic prince in Europe. As he was feared at home, so he made himself respected abroad. The Dutch, having been humbled by repeated defeats, were obliged to sue for peace. Cromwell obliged them to pay deference to the British flag. He compelled them to abandon the interests of the king, to pay 85,000 l. as an indemnification for former expenses, and to restore to the English East India company a part of those dominions which they had been dispossessed of by the Dutch during the former reign.

The ministry of France thought proper to pay deference to the imperious character of the protector; and he having lent that court a body of 6000 men to attack the Spanish dominions in the Netherlands, who obtained a signal victory, the French put Dunkirk into his hands as a reward for his attachment. By means of the celebrated admiral Blake he humbled Spain prodigiously, as also the Algerines and Tunisians. Penn and Venables, two other admirals, made an attempt on the island of Hispaniola; but failing of this, they fleered to Jamaica, which was surrendered to them without a blow. Yet so little was thought of the importance of this conquest, that, on their return, the two admirals were committed to the tower, on account of the failure of the principal object of their equipment.

It is not to be supposed that a numerous standing army could be maintained, and so many foreign wars carried on, without incurring extraordinary expenses. The protector's revenues were so much exhausted, that he was obliged to have recourse to methods which he probably would not have chosen, had he not been driven to them by necessity. One or two conspiracies entered into by the royalists, which were detected and punished, served him as a pretence to lay a heavy tax upon all that party, of the tenth penny on all their possessions. In order to raise this oppressive imposition, ten major-generals were instituted, who divided the whole kingdom into so many military jurisdictions. These men had power to subject whom they pleased to this tax, and to imprison such as denied their jurisdiction. Under colour of these powers they exercised the most arbitrary authority; the people had no protection against their exactions; the very mask of liberty was thrown off, and all property was at the disposal of a military tribunal. It was in vain that the nation cried out for a free parliament. Cromwell assembled one in consequence of their clamours; but as speedily dissolved it when he found it refractory to his commands. At last, as parliaments were always held in such estimation by the people, he resolved to give them one, but such as should be entirely of his own choosing, and chiefly composed of his creatures. Lest any of a different complexion should enter the house, guards were placed at the door, and none admitted but such as produced a warrant from his council.

The principal design of convening this assembly was, that they should offer him the crown, with the title of him the king, and all the other ensigns of royalty. His creatures, therefore, took care to infuse the confusion there was in legal proceedings without the name of a king; that no man was acquainted with the extent or limits of the present magistrates authority, but those of a king had been well ascertained by the experience of ages. The motion was at last formally made in the house, easily carried through, and nothing was now wanting but Cromwell's own consent to have his name enrolled among the kings of England. This consent, however, he never had resolution enough to give. His doubts continued for some days; and the conference carried on with the members who made him the offer, so far as it is on his part intelligible, seems to argue that he was desirous of being compelled to accept the offer; however, the conference ended in his total refusal.

With all these proffered honours, and with all his despotic power, the situation of Cromwell was far from being enviable. Perhaps no situation, however mean, or loaded with contempt, could be more truly distressful than his, at the time the nation was loading him with congratulations and addresses. He had at last rendered himself hateful to every party, and he owed his safety to their mutual hatred and disaffection of one another. His arts of dissimulation were exhausted; none could be deceived by them; even those of his own party and principles disclaiming the use to which he had converted his zeal and professions. Though the whole nation silently detested his administration, he had not been completely wretched if he could have found domestic consolation. But even his own family had embraced republican principles with so much vehemence, that they could not without indignation behold him invested with uncontrollable power; and Mrs Claypole, his favourite daughter, upbraided him, on her deathbed, with all the crimes which led him to trample on the throne. To add to all this, not only were conspiracies formed against him, but he was at last taught upon reasoning principles, that his death was not only desirable, but his assassination would be meritorious. A book was published by colonel Titus, a man who had formerly been attached to his cause, entitled Killing no murder. Of all the pamphlets that appeared at that time, or perhaps of those that have since appeared, this was the most eloquent and masterly. Cromwell read it, and is said never to have smiled afterwards.

The usurper now found, that the grandeur to which he had sacrificed his former tranquillity was only an inlet to fresh inquietudes. He was haunted with perpetual fears of assassination. He wore armour under his clothes, and always kept pistols in his pockets. His aspect was clouded by a settled gloom, and he regarded every stranger with suspicion. He was always attended by a numerous guard, and travelled in a hurry. He never returned from any place by the road he went; and never slept above three nights together in the same chamber. At last he was delivered from this life of horror and anxiety by a tertian ague, of which he died September 3rd, 1658, after having usurped the go- Oliver Cromwell was succeeded in his office of protector by his son Richard, who immediately called a parliament. To this assembly the army presented a remonstrance, desiring some person for their general in whom they could confide. The house voted such meetings and remonstrances unlawful; upon which the officers, surrounding Richard's house, forced him to dissolve the parliament; and soon after he signed an abdication of the government. His younger brother Henry, who had been appointed to the command in Ireland, followed Richard's example, and resigned his commission without striking a blow.

The officers, thus left at liberty, resolved to restore the rump parliament as it was called, consisting of that remnant of a parliament which had condemned Charles. They were no sooner reinstated in their authority, however, than they began to humble the army by cashiering some of the officers, and appointing others on whom they could have more dependence. The officers immediately resolved to dissolve the assembly. Lambert, one of the general officers, drew up a chosen body of troops; and placing them in the streets which led to Westminster-hall, when the speaker Leathall proceeded in his carriage to the house, he ordered the horses to be turned, and very civilly conducted him home. The other members were likewise intercepted; and the army returned to their quarters to observe a solemn fast, which generally either preceded or attended their outrages. A committee was then elected, of 23 persons; of whom seven were officers. These they pretended to invest with sovereign authority; and a military government was established, which gave the nation a prospect of endless servitude and tyranny without redress.

Upon hearing that the officers had by their own authority dissolved the parliament, general Monk, who was then in Scotland with 8000 veteran troops, protested against the measure, and resolved to defend the national privileges. As soon as he put his army in motion, he found himself eagerly sought after by all parties; but so cautious was he of declaring his mind, that till the very last, it was impossible to know which side he designed to take. A remarkable instance of this cautious behaviour was, that, when his own brother came to him with a message from lord Granville in the name of the king, he refused all conversation with him upon hearing that he had told his errand to Mr Price, the general's own chaplain, and a man of known probity and honour.

Hearing that the officers were preparing an army to oppose him, Monk amused them with negotiations; and the people, finding themselves not entirely defenceless, began to declare for a free parliament. The Rump, finding themselves invited also by the navy and part of the army, again ventured to resume their seats, and to thunder votes in their turn against the officers and that part of the army by which they had been ejected. Without taking any notice of Lambert, they sent orders to the troops to repair immediately to the garrisons appointed for them. The soldiers obeyed; and Lambert at last found himself deserted by his whole army. Monk in the meantime proceeded with his army to London. The gentry, on his march, flocked round him with addresses expressing their desire of a new parliament; but that general, still continuing his inflexible taciturnity, at last came to St Alban's, within a few miles of the capital, leaving all the world in doubt as to his motives and designs. Here he sent the parliament a message, desiring them to remove such forces as remained in London to country quarters. Some of the regiments willingly obeyed this order; and such as did not, Monk turned out by force; after which he took up his quarters with his army in Westminster. The house voted him thanks for his services; he desired them to call a free parliament; and this soon inspired the citizens to refuse submission to the present government. They resolved to pay no taxes until the members formerly excluded by colonel Pride should be replaced. For this they were punished by Monk, at the desire of the parliament. He arrested 11 of the most obnoxious of the common-council; broke the gates and portcullises; and, having exposed it to the scorn and contempt of all who hated it, he returned in triumph to his quarters at Westminster. The next day, however, he made an apology for this conduct; and promised for the future to co-operate with the mayor and common-council in such schemes as they should approve.

The commons were now greatly alarmed. They tried every method to gain off the general from his new alliance. Some of them even promised to invest him with the dignity of supreme magistrate, and to support his usurpation. But Monk was too just, or too wise, to hearken to such wild proposals; he resolved to restore the secluded members, and by their means to bring about a new election.

The restoration of the expelled members was easily effected; and their number was so much superior to that of the Rump, that the chiefs of this last party now thought proper to withdraw in their turn. The restored members began with repealing all those orders by which they had been expelled. They renewed and enlarged the general's commission; fixed a proper stipend for the support of the fleet and army; and, having passed these votes, they dissolved themselves, and gave orders for the immediate assembling of a new parliament. Mean while, Monk new-modelled his army to the purposes he had in view. Some officers, by his direction, presented him with an address, in which they promised to obey implicitly the orders of the ensuing parliament. He approved of this engagement, which he ordered to be signed by all the different regiments; and this furnished him with a pretence for dismissing all the officers by whom it was rejected.

In the midst of these transactions, Lambert, who had been confined in the Tower, escaped from his prison, and began to raise forces; and as his activity and principles were sufficiently known, Monk took the earliest precautions to oppose his measures. He dispatched against him colonel Ingoldby, with his own regiment, before Lambert had time to assemble his dependents. That officer had taken possession of Daventry with four troops of horse; but the greater part of them joined Ingoldby; to whom he himself surrendered, not without exhibiting strong marks of pusillanimity.

All this time, Monk still persisted in his reserve; nor would he intrust his secret intentions with any person, except one Morrice, a gentleman of Devonshire. He was of a sedentary and studious disposition; and with him alone did the general deliberate on the great and dangerous enterprise of the restoration. Sir John Granville, ville, who had a commission from the king, applied for access to the general; but he was desired to communicate his business to Morrice. Granville refused, though twice urged, to deliver his message to any but the general himself: so that Monk now, finding he could depend on this minister's secrecy, opened to him his whole intentions; but, with his usual caution, refused to commit anything to paper. In consequence of these, the king left the Spanish territories, where he very narrowly escaped being detained at Breda by the governor, under pretence of treating him with proper respect and formality. From thence he retired to Holland, where he resolved to wait further advice.

The new parliament being assembled, Sir Harbottle Grimstone was chosen speaker, a man known to be a royalist in his heart. The affections of all were turned towards the king; yet such were their fears, and such dangers attended a freedom of speech, that no one dared for some days to make any mention of his name. At length Monk gave directions to Annetly, president of the council, to inform them that one Sir John Granville, a servant of the king's, had been sent over by his majesty, and was now at the door with a letter to the house of commons. This message was received with the utmost joy. Granville was called in, the letter read, and the king's proposals immediately accepted. He offered a general amnesty to all persons whatsoever, and that without any exceptions but what should be made by parliament. He promised to indulge scrupulous consciences with liberty in matters of religion; to leave to the examination of parliament the claims of all such as possessed lands with contested titles; to confirm all these concessions by act of parliament; to satisfy the army under general Monk with respect to their arrears, and to give the same rank to his officers when they should be enlisted in the king's army.

In consequence of this good agreement between king and parliament, Montague the English admiral waited on his majesty to inform him that the fleet expected his orders at Scheveling. The duke of York immediately went on board, and took the command as lord high admiral. The king embarked, and landing at Dover, was received by the general, whom he tenderly embraced. He entered London in 1660, on the 29th of May, which was his birthday; and was attended by an innumerable multitude of people, who testified their joy by the loudest acclamations.

Charles II. was 30 years of age at the time of his restoration. Being naturally of an engaging countenance, and possessed of an open and amiable disposition, he was the favourite of all ranks of his subjects. They had now felt the miseries of anarchy, and in proportion to these miseries was the satisfaction they felt on the accession of their young monarch. His first measures were calculated to give universal satisfaction. He seemed desirous of losing the memory of past animosities, and of uniting every party in affection for their prince and country. He admitted into his council the most eminent men of the nation, without regard to former distinctions. The presbyterians shared this honour equally with the royalists. Calamy and Baxter, presbyterian clergymen, were even made chaplains to the king. Admiral Montague was created earl of Sandwich, and general Monk duke of Albemarle. Morrice, the general's friend, was created secretary of state. But what gave the greatest contentment to the nation was the judicious choice which the king at first made of his principal ministers and favourites. Sir Edward Hyde, created earl of Clarendon, was prime minister and chancellor. The marquis, created duke of Ormond, was steward of the household; the earl of Southampton high-treasurer; Sir Edward Nicholas secretary of state. These men, united together in the strictest friendship, and combining in the same laudable inclinations, supported each other's credit, and purified the interests of the public.

The parliament having been summoned without the king's consent, received at first only the title of a convention; and it was not till after an act passed for that purpose, that they were acknowledged by the name of parliament. Both houses owned the guilt of the former rebellion, and gratefully received in their own name, and in that of all the subjects, his majesty's gracious pardon and indemnity. The king had before promised an indemnity to all criminals, but such as should be excepted by parliament: he now issued a proclamation, declaring, that such of the late king's judges as did not surrender themselves within 14 days should receive no pardon. Nineteen surrendered themselves; some were taken in their flight; others escaped beyond sea. The peers seemed inclined to great severity on this occasion; but were restrained by the king, who in the most earnest terms pressed the act of general indemnification.

After repeated solicitations, the act of indemnity passed both houses, with the exception of those who had an immediate hand in the king's death. Even Cromwell, Ireton, and Bradshaw, though dead, were considered as proper objects of resentment: their bodies were dug from their graves; dragged to the place of execution; and, after hanging some time, buried under the gallows. Of the rest who sat in judgment on the late monarch's trial, some were dead, and some thought worthy of pardon. Ten only, out of 80, were doomed to immediate destruction; and these were enthusiasts who had all along acted from principle, and who, in the general spirit of rage excited against them, shewed a fortitude that would have done honour to a better cause.

This was all the blood that was shed at the restoration. The rest of the king's judges were reprieved, and afterwards dispersed into several prisons. The army was disbanded, that had for so many years governed the nation; prelacy, and all the ceremonies of the church of England, were restored; at the same time that the king pretended to preserve the air of moderation and neutrality. In fact, with regard to religion, Charles, in his gayest hours, was a professed deist; but in the latter part of his life he shewed an inclination to the Catholic persuasion, which he had strongly imbibed in his infancy and exile.

On the 15th of September this year, died the young duke of Gloucester, a prince of great hopes. The king duke of was never to deeply affected by any incident in his life. Gloucester. The princess of Orange, having come to England, in order to partake of the joy attending the restoration of her family, with whom she lived in great friendship, soon after fainted and died. The queen-mother paid a visit to her son, and obtained his consent to the marriage of the princess Henrietta with the duke of Orleans, leans, brother to the French king. The parliament having met on the 6th of November, and carried on business with the greatest unanimity and dispatch, were dissolved by the king on the 29th of December 1650.

During the reign of Charles II, the spirit of the people seemed to take a turn quite opposite to that in the time of Charles I. The latter found his subjects animated with a ferocious though ignorant zeal for liberty. They knew not what it was to be free, and therefore imagined that liberty consisted in throwing off entirely the royal authority. They gained their point: the unhappy monarch was deposed and murdered; but instead of liberty, they found themselves involved in much worse tyranny than before. Being happily freed from this tyranny by the restoration, they ran into the contrary extreme; and instead of an unbounded spirit of opposition, there was nothing now to be found but an unbounded spirit of submission; and through the slavish submissions and concessions of the people in this reign, Charles found means to render himself at last almost quite absolute, and to govern without requiring, or indeed without having any occasion for parliaments.

A like revolution took place with regard to religious matters. During the former reigns, a spirit of the most gloomy enthusiasm had overspread the whole island, and men imagined that the Deity was only to be pleased by their denying themselves every social pleasure, and refusing everything that tended to make life agreeable. The extreme hypocrisy of Cromwell and his associates, and the absurd conduct of others, showed that this was not religion; but, in avoiding this error, they ran into one equally dangerous; and every thing religious or serious was discomfited. Nothing but riot and dissipation took place everywhere. The court set them the example; nothing but scenes of gallantry and festivity were to be seen; the horrors of the late war became the subject of ridicule; the formality of the sectaries was displayed on the stage, and even laughed at from the pulpit. In short, the best mode of religion now was to have as little as possible; and to avoid not only the hypocrisy of the sectaries, but even the common duties of morality.

In the midst of this riot and dissipation, the old and faithful followers of the royal family were left unrewarded. Numbers who had fought both for the king and his father, and who had lost their whole fortunes in his service, still continued to pine in want and oblivion; while in the mean time their persecutors, who had acquired fortunes during the civil war, were permitted to enjoy them without molestation. The wretched royalists petitioned and murmured in vain; the monarch fled from their expostulations to scenes of mirth and festivity; and the act of indemnity was generally said to have been an act of forgiveness to the king's enemies, and of oblivion to his friends.

In 1661, the Scots and English parliaments seemed to vie with each other in their prostrations to the king. In England, monarchy and episcopacy were raised to the greatest splendour. The bishops were permitted to resume their seats in the house of peers; all military authority was acknowledged to be vested in the king. He was empowered to appoint commissioners for regulating corporations, and expelling such members as had intruded themselves by violence, or professed principles dangerous to the constitution. An act of uniformity was passed, by which it was required that every clergyman should be re-ordained, if he had not before received episcopal ordination; that he should declare his assent to every thing contained in the book of Common prayer; and should take the oath of canonical obedience. In consequence of this law, above 2000 of the presbyterian clergy resigned their cures at once. In Scotland the right of the king was asserted in the fullest and most polite terms to be hereditary, divine, and indefeasible. His power was extended to the lives and possessions of his subjects, and from his original grant was said to come all that they enjoyed. They voted him an additional revenue of £40,000; and all their former violences were treated with a degree of the utmost detestation.

This intoxication of loyalty, however, began soon to wear off. The king's profusion and extravagance in his pleasures, together with his indolence in administration, furnished opportunities of making very disadvantageous comparisons between him and Oliver Cromwell. These animosities were heightened by the ejected clergy, especially when they saw Dunkirk, which had been acquired during the usurper's vigorous administration, sold to the French for £40,000, and that merely to supply the king's extravagance. From this time (August 17th 1662), Charles found himself perpetually opposed, and his parliaments granted supplies much more reluctantly than before.

A few months before, the continual exigencies of marriage with the Infanta of Portugal for the sake of her portion, which was £50,000 in money, together with the fortresses of Tangier in Africa, and of Bombay in the East Indies. The chancellor Clarendon, the dukes of Ormond and Southampton, urged many reasons against this match, particularly the likelihood of her never having any children; but all their objections could not prevail, and therefore Clarendon set himself to promote it as far as lay in his power. Still, however, the king's necessities were greater than his supplies. He therefore resolved to sacrifice his minister the great Clarendon to the resentment of the parliament, to whom he was become obnoxious, in order to procure some more supplies for himself. In 1663, an extraordinary supply was demanded: the king sent for the commons, on the 12th of June, to Whitehall. He complained of their inattention; and by acquainting them of a conspiracy to seize the castle of Dublin, he hoped to furnish a reason for demanding a present supply. Four subsidies were immediately granted, and the clergy in convocation followed the example of the commons. On this occasion the earl of Bristol ventured to impeach the chancellor in the house of peers; but as he did not support his charge, the affair was dropped for the present.

With a view probably of having the money to be employed for that purpose in his hands, Charles was induced to declare war against the Dutch in 1664. In this war the English, under the command of Sir Robert Holmes, expelled the Dutch from Cape-Corse castle on the coast of Africa, and likewise seized on their settlements of Cape Verde and the Isle of Gorée. Sailing from thence to America, the admiral possessed himself of Nova Belgia, since called New York; and which has has ever since continued subject to Britain. On the other hand, De Ruyter, the Dutch admiral, dispossessed the English of all their settlements in Guinea except Cape Corfe. He afterwards sailed to America, where he attacked Barbadoes and Long Island, but was repulsed. Soon after, the two most considerable fleets of each nation met; the one under the duke of York, to the number of 114 sail; the other commanded by Opdam admiral of the Dutch navy, of nearly equal force. The engagement began at four in the morning, and both sides fought with equal intrepidity. The duke of York was in the hottest part of the engagement, and behaved with great spirit and composure, while many of his lords and attendants were killed beside him. In the heat of the action the Dutch admiral's ship blew up; which so discouraged and disheartened them, that they fled towards their own coast, having 30 ships sunk and taken, while the victors lost only one. This success of the English so much excited the jealousy of the neighbouring states, that France and Denmark immediately resolved to protect the republic from such formidable enemies. De Ruyter the great Dutch admiral on his return from Guinea was appointed, at the head of 76 sail, to join the duke of Beaufort the French admiral, who it was supposed was then entering the British channel from Toulon. The duke of Albemarle and prince Rupert now commanded the British fleet, which did not exceed 74 sail. Albemarle detached prince Rupert with 20 ships to oppose the duke of Beaufort; against which piece of rashness Sir George Ayseae protested in vain. The fleets thus engaging upon unequal terms, a most memorable battle ensued. The first day, the Dutch admiral Evertzen was killed by a cannon-ball, one of their ships was blown up, and three of the English ships taken; the combatants were parted by darkness. The second day they renewed the battle with incredible fury. Sixteen fresh ships joined the Dutch; and the English were so scattered, that their fighting ships were reduced to 28. Upon retreating towards their own coast, the Dutch followed them; where another dreadful conflict was beginning, but parted by the darkness of the night as before. The morning of the third day the English continued their retreat, and the Dutch their pursuit. Albemarle came to the desperate resolution of blowing up his own ship rather than submit to the enemy, when he found himself happily reinforced by prince Rupert with 16 ships of the line. By this time it was night; and the next day the fleets came again to a close combat, which was continued with great violence, till they were parted by a mist. Sir George Ayseae having the misfortune to strike on the Galoper sands, was taken, with a ship of 100 guns.

Both sides claimed the victory, but the Dutch certainly had the advantage in this engagement. A second, however, equally bloody, happened soon after, with larger fleets on both sides, commanded by the same admirals. In this the Dutch were vanquished; but they were soon in a condition to face their enemies, by the junction of Beaufort the French admiral. The Dutch fleet appeared in the Thames, conducted by their great admiral. The English were thrown into the utmost consternation: a chain had been drawn across the river Medway; and some fortifications had been added to the forts along the bank. But all these were unequal to the present force: Sheerness was soon taken; the Dutch passed forward and broke the chain, though fortified by some ships sunk by Albemarle's orders. Destroying the shipping in their passage, they still advanced, with six men of war and five fire-ships, as far as Upnor castle, where they burned three men of war. The whole city of London was in consternation; it was expected that the Dutch might sail up next tide to London-bridge, and destroy not only the shipping, but even the buildings of the metropolis. The Dutch, however, were unable to prosecute that project from the failure of the French who had promised them assistance. Spreading therefore an alarm along the coast, and having insulted Norwich, they returned to their own coasts.

During these transactions abroad, happened a great plague and fire at London, which destroyed 100,000 of the inhabitants. This calamity was soon followed by another, still more dreadful if possible. A fire broke out in a baker's house in Pudding-lane near the bridge, and spread with such rapidity, that no efforts could extinguish it, till it laid in ashes the most considerable part of the city. This calamity, though it reduced thousands to beggary, proved in the end both beneficial and ornamental to the city. It rose from its ruins in greater beauty than ever; the streets being widened, and the houses built of brick instead of wood, became thus more wholesome and secure. In so great a calamity it is remarkable that not a single life was lost.

These complicated misfortunes did not fail to excite many murmurs among the people: the blame of the fire was laid on the Papists: the Dutch war was exclaimed against as unsuccessful and unnecessary, as being an attempt to humble that nation who were equal enemies to Popery with themselves. Charles himself also began to be sensible, that all the ends for which he had undertaken the Dutch war were likely to be entirely frustrated. Instead of being able to lay up money for himself, the supplies of parliament had hitherto been so scanty, that he found himself considerably in debt. A treaty was therefore set on foot, which was concluded at Breda on the 21st of July 1667. By this treaty the only advantage gained by Britain was, the cessation of the colony of New York. It was therefore judged disgraceful, and the blame of it thrown upon the unhappy earl of Clarendon. Along with this, he was charged with the sale of Dunkirk; the bad payment of the seamen; the disgrace by the Dutch fleet; and his own ambition. His daughter, while yet in Paris, had commenced an amour with the duke of York; and under a solemn promise of marriage had admitted him to her bed. Her lover, however, either of his own accord, or through the persuasions of his brother Charles, afterwards married her; and this too was imputed as a crime to Clarendon. On these accusations, the king, who on account of his rigid virtue had never much loved this nobleman, ordered the seals to be taken from him, and given to Sir Orlando Bridgemen. Clarendon was again impeached; and though the charges were manifestly frivolous, yet so strong was the popular torrent against him, that he thought proper to withdraw into France. Soon after, the king formed an alliance with Holland and Sweden, in order to prevent the French king from completing his conquest of the Netherlands. The greatest part of this country he had already ready subdued, when he was unexpectedly stopped by this league; in which it was agreed by the contracting powers, that they would constitute themselves arbiters of the differences between France and Spain, and check the exorbitant pretensions of either.

The king now began to act in a very arbitrary manner. He had long wished to extend his prerogative, and to be able to furnish himself with whatever sums he might want for his pleasures, and therefore was most likely to be pleased with those ministers who could satisfy both his wishes at once. These he found in Clifford, Ashley, Buckingham, Arlington, and Lauderdale, a junto distinguished by the name of the cabal; a word formed by the initials of their names. The first effects of their advice was a secret alliance with France, and a rupture with Holland. Soon after this, the duke of York declared himself a Papist; and liberty of conscience was proclaimed to all sectaries, whether dissenters or Papists: a proclamation was issued containing very rigorous clauses in favour of pressing; another full of menaces against those who should speak undutifully of his majesty's measures; and even against those who heard such discourses, unless they informed in due time against the offenders. All these things gave very great and just offence to the people; but they were especially alarmed at the alliance with France, and justly afraid of the treachery of that nation.

On the 28th of May 1672, the English fleet under the duke of York was surprised by the Dutch in Southwold bay. About eight in the morning began a most furious engagement. The gallant Sandwich, who commanded the English van, drove his ship into the midst of the enemy, beat off the admiral that ventured to attack him, sunk another ship that attempted to board him, and three fire-ships that offered to grapple with him. Though his vessel was torn with shot, and out of 1000 men there only remained 400, he still continued to fight. At last, a fire-ship, more fortunate than the rest, having laid hold of his vessel, her destruction became inevitable, and the earl himself was drowned in attempting to swim to some other ship. Night parted the combatants; the Dutch retired, and were not followed by the English. The loss sustained by the two maritime powers was nearly equal; but the French suffered very little, not having entered into the heat of the engagement. It was even supposed that they had orders for this conduct, and to spare their own ships, while the Dutch and English should weaken each other by their mutual animosities.

The combined powers were much more successful against the Dutch by land. Lewis conquered all before him, crossed the Rhine, took all the frontier towns of the enemy, and threatened the new republic with a final dissolution. Terms were proposed to them by the two conquerors. Lewis offered them such as would have deprived them of all power of resisting an invasion from France by land. Those of Charles exposed them equally to every invasion by sea. At last the murmurs of the English at seeing this brave and industrious people, the supporters of the Protestant cause, totally sunk and on the brink of destruction, were too loud not to reach the king. He was obliged to call a parliament, to take the sense of the nation upon his conduct; and he soon saw how his subjects stood affected.

The parliament met on the 4th of February 1673. They began with repressing some of the king's extraordinary stretches of prerogative, and taking means for uniformity in religious matters. A law was passed entitled the Test act, imposing an oath on all who should enjoy any public benefice. Besides the taking the oaths of allegiance and the king's supremacy, they were obliged to receive the sacrament once a-year in the established church, and to abjure all belief in the doctrine of transubstantiation. As the dissenters also had seconded the efforts of the commons against the king's declaration of indulgence to Roman Catholics, a bill was passed for their ease and relief, which, however, went with some difficulty through the house of peers. The Dutch in the mean time continued to defend themselves with such valour, that the commons began to despair of success. They therefore resolved that the standing army was a grievance; they next declared, that they would grant no more supplies to carry on the Dutch war, unless it appeared that the enemy were so obstinate as to refuse all reasonable conditions. To cut short these disagreeable alterations, the king resolved to prorogue the parliament; and, with that intention, went unexpectedly to the house of peers, from whence he sent the usher of the black-rods to summon the house of commons to attend. It happened that the usher and Tumult in the speaker met nearly at the door of the house; but the speaker being within, some of the members suddenly shut the door, and cried "To the chair." Upon which the following motions were instantly made in a tumultuous manner: That the alliance with France was a grievance; that the evil counsellors of the king were a grievance; that the earl of Lauderdale was a grievance; and then the house rose in great confusion. The king soon saw that he could expect no supply from the commons for carrying on the war which was so disagreeable to them; he resolved, therefore, to make a separate peace with the Dutch, on terms which they had propounded by the Spanish ambassador. For form's sake, he asked the advice of his parliament; who concurring heartily in his intentions, a peace was concluded accordingly.

The prepossession which Charles had all along shewn National for France, and his manifest inclination upon all occasions to attach himself to that kingdom, had given great offence to his people. Along with this, other circumstances conspired to raise a general discontent. The toleration of Catholics, so much wished for by the king; the bigotry of the duke of York, the heir apparent to the crown, and his zeal for the propagation of the Catholic religion; excited a conflagration not altogether without foundation, as if the Protestant religion was in danger. This fear and discontent was carefully kept up and fomented by wicked and designing men, who to promote their own interests would not scruple to advance the grossest falsehoods. In 1678, an account of a plot formed by the Papists for destroying the king and the Protestant religion, was given in by one Kirby a chemist, Dr Tong, a weak credulous clergyman, and Titus Oates, who had likewise been a clergyman, but one of the most abandoned miscreants that can be imagined. The circumstances attending this pretended discovery were so perfectly incredible, that it appears amazing how any person of common sense could give ear to them. Nevertheless, so much were the minds of the nation in general inflamed against the Catholics at this time, that it not only produced the destruction of individuals of the Roman persuasion, but an universal massacre of that unhappy sect was apprehended. The parliament, who ought to have repressed these delusions, and brought back the people to calm deliberate inquiry, were found more credulous than even the vulgar themselves. The cry of plot was immediately echoed from one house to the other; the country party could not let slip so favourable an opportunity of manifesting the passions of the people; the courtiers were afraid of being thought disloyal if they should doubt the guilt of those who were accused of designs against the king's person. Danby, the prime minister, himself entered into it very furiously, and persisted in his inquiries notwithstanding all the king's advices to the contrary. Charles himself, who was the person that ought to have been most concerned, was the only one who treated it with contempt. Nothing, however, could stop the popular fury; and for a time the king was obliged to give way to it.

During this time of this general uproar and persecution, the lord treasurer Danby was impeached in the house of commons by Seymour the speaker. The principal charge against him was, his having written a letter to Montague the king's ambassador at Paris, directing him to sell the king's goods offices at the treaty of Nimeguen, to the king of France, for a certain sum of money; contrary to the general interests of the confederates, and even of those of his own kingdoms. Tho' the charge was just, yet Danby had the happiness to find the king resolved to defend him. Charles assured the parliament, that, as he had acted in every thing by his orders, he held him entirely blameless; and though he would deprive him of all his employments, yet he would positively insist on his personal safety. The lords were obliged to submit; however, they went on to impeach him, and Danby was sent to the Tower, but no worse consequences followed.

These furious proceedings had been carried on by an house of commons that had continued undissolved for above 17 years. They were now dissolved, and another parliament was called; which, however, proved as unmanageable as the preceding. The members resolved to check the growth of Popery by striking at the root of the evil; and therefore brought in a bill for the total exclusion of the duke of York from the crown of England and Ireland, which passed the lower house by a majority of 79. They next voted the king's standing army and guards to be illegal. They proceeded to establish limits to the king's power of imprisoning delinquents at will. It was now also that the celebrated statute called the habeas corpus act was passed, which confirms the subject in an absolute security from oppressive power.

During these troubles the duke of York had retired to Brussels; but an indisposition of the king led him back to England, to be ready, in case of any further accident, to assert his right to the throne. After prevailing upon his brother to disgrace his natural son the duke of Monmouth, who was now become very popular, he himself retired to Scotland, under pretence of quieting the apprehensions of the English nation, but in reality to strengthen his interests in that part of the empire. This secession served still more to inflame the country party, who were strongly attached to the duke of Monmouth, and were resolved to support him against the duke of York. Mobs, petitions, pope-burnings, were artifices employed to keep up the terrors of Popery, and alarm the court. The parliament had shown favour to the various tribes of informers, and that served to increase the number of these miscreants; but plots themselves also became more numerous. Plot was set up against plot; and the people were kept suspended in the most dreadful apprehension.

But it was not by plots alone that the adverse parties endeavoured to supplant each other. Tumultuous petitions on the one hand, and flattering addresses on the other, were sent up from all quarters. Wherever the country party prevailed, petitions were sent to the king filled with grievances and apprehensions. Wherever the church or court-party prevailed, addresses were framed, containing expressions of the highest regard to his majesty, and the deepest abhorrence of those who endeavoured to disturb the public tranquillity. Thus the nation came be distinguished into petitioners and aborers. Whig and Tory, also, were now first used as terms of reproach. The whigs were so denominated from a cant name given to the four presbyterian conventiclers, (whig being milk turned sour). The tories were denominated from the Irish banditti so called, whose usual manner of bidding people deliver was by the Irish word Torce, or "Give me."

All this time the king had tyrannized over the Scots in a very cruel manner. Being apprized of the tendency of presbyterian principles to a republican form of government, Charles, like his predecessors, had endeavoured to introduce episcopacy there, but in a much more violent manner than had been formerly attempted. The rights of patrons had for some years been abolished; and the power of electing ministers had been vested in the kirk-session and lay elders: but it was now enacted, that all incumbents who had been admitted upon this title should receive a presentation, and be instituted anew by the bishop, under the penalty of deprivation. In consequence of this, 350 parishes were at once declared vacant. New ministers were sought for all over the kingdom, and none was so vicious or ignorant as to be rejected. The people, as might have been expected, were displeased to the highest degree; discontent they resolved, however, to give no sign of mutiny or sedition, notwithstanding their discontent. This submission made their case still worse; it being foolishly imagined, that, as they did not complain for a little ill usage, they would submit altogether if they were worse treated.

Affairs remained in a peaceable situation, till, in 1664, a very severe act was passed in England against conventicles; and this severity was imitated by the Scots parliament, who passed an act of the same kind. Military force was next let loose. Wherever the people had generally forsaken their churches, the guards were quartered throughout the country. They were commanded by Sir James Turner, a man of a very furious temper and dissolute life. He went about and received lists from the clergy of those who absented themselves from the churches, or were supposed to frequent conventicles. Without any proof, or legal conviction, he demanded a fine from them; and quartered soldiers on the supposed criminals till he received payment. An insurrection being dreaded during the Dutch war, new forces were levied, and entrusted to the command of Dalziel. Dalziel and Drummond, two men of a very cruel disposition, and the Scots parliament gave full scope to all their enormities.

Representations were now made to the king, who promised some redress. But his lenity came too late. The people, in 1668, rose in arms. They surprised Turner in Dumfries, and refused to have put him to death; but finding his orders to have been more violent than his execution of them, they spared his life. At Lanerc the renewed the covenant, and published their manifesto; where they professed their submission to the king, and only desired the re-establishment of presbytery, and of their former ministers. Their force never exceeded 2000 men; and though the country in general bore them great favour, men's spirits were so subdued, that the insurgents could expect no further increase of numbers. Dalziel took the field to oppose them. The number of the covenanters was now reduced to 800, and they no way capable of contending with regular forces. Having advanced near Edinburgh, they attempted to find their way back into the west by Pentland hills. Here they were attacked by the king's troops, and received the first charge very resolutely; but that was all the action. Immediately they fell into confusion, and fled. About 40 were killed on the spot, and 130 taken prisoners.

So long ago as the year 1661, the presbyterians had deputed one Sharpe to lay their grievances before the king. Instead of this, their deputy abandoned the cause altogether, became their violent enemy, and as a reward of his treachery was made archbishop of St Andrews. After the battle of Pentland-hills, this man was the foremost to take vengeance on the unhappy insurgents, whose oppressed state and inoffensive behaviour had made them objects of universal compassion. Ten were hanged on one gibbet in Edinburgh; 35 before their own doors in different places. They might all have saved their lives, if they would have renounced the covenant; but this they resolutely refused. The executions were going on, when the king wrote a letter to the privy council, in which he ordered that such of the prisoners as should simply promise to obey the laws for the future should be set at liberty, and that the incorrigible should be sent to the plantations. This letter was brought to the council by Burnet, but was not immediately delivered by Sharpe. What his motives were for this delay, we pretend not to say; but certain it is, that no action of his life will bear a worse construction than this. It had been customary to put these poor creatures to very severe tortures, in order to make them confess that to be falsehood which they believed to be true. By Sharpe's delay, one Hugh Maccaill had been tortured, who would otherwise have escaped; and so violent were the torments he endured, that he expired under them. He seemed to die in an ecstacy of joy. His last words were uttered with an accent which struck all the bystanders with astonishment. "Farewell, (said he), sun, moon, and stars; farewell world and time; farewell weak, frail body; welcome eternity; welcome angels and saints; welcome Saviour of the world; and welcome God the judge of all."

In 1670, an act against conventicles was passed, seemingly with a design of mitigating the former persecuting laws; though even this was severe enough. By this act, the hearer in a conventicle, (that is, in a dissenting assembly where more than five beside the family were present,) was fined 5s. for the first offence, and 10s. for the second; the preacher 20l. for the first offence, and 40l. for the second. The person in whose house the conventicle met was fined a like sum with the preacher. One remarkable clause was, that if any dispute should arise with regard to the interpretation of any part of the act, the judges should always explain the doubt in the sense least favourable to conventicles, it being the intention of parliament entirely to suppress them.

As the violent methods used by the king were found ineffectual to obtain his purpose in Scotland, in 1678 a scheme of comprehension was tried, by which it was proposed to diminish greatly the authority of the bishops, to abolish their negative voice in the ecclesiastical courts, and to leave them little more than the right of precedence among the prebys: but this too was rejected by the people, who well knew its tendency. The next scheme was an indulgence. By this, the most popular of the expelled preachers, without requiring any terms of submission to the established religion, were settled in vacant churches; and small salaries of about 20l. a-year were offered to the rest, till they should be otherwise established. This bounty was rejected as the wages of criminal silence, and the replaced ministers soon repented of their compliance; conventicles multiplied, and the covenanters daily met in arms at their places of worship, though they usually dispersed themselves after divine service.

These mild methods being rejected, a renewal of the persecution commenced under the administration of the renewed duke of Lauderdale, and in which archbishop Sharpe had a principal hand. It was an old law, and but seldom put in execution, that a man who was accused of any crime, and did not appear to take his trial, might be intercommunicated; that is, he might be publicly outlawed; and whoever afterwards, either on account of business, relation, or charity, had the least intercourse with him, was subjected to the same penalties which the law could inflict on the criminal himself. A great many writs of intercommuning were now issued against the covenanters; by which absurd method of proceeding, crimes and punishments were multiplied to an extreme degree.

Application was made to Charles for some redress of these grievances: but he was too much taken up with his pleasures to take any effectual means of putting a stop to them; nay, even while he retracted them, he was persuaded to avow and praise them in a letter to the privy council. The consequence of all this was, that the covenanters were at last so enraged against Sharpe, whom they considered as an apostate, and experienced to be an unrelenting persecutor, that, on the 3rd of May 1679, he was way-laid and murdered with all the circumstances of unrelenting cruelty. The murder of Sharpe produced a persecution still more violent, which at last brought on another insurrection.

The covenanters finding themselves obliged to meet in large bodies, and bring arms along with them for their own security, set forth a declaration against prelacy, which they published at Rutherglen, a small borough near Glasgow; and in the market-place there they burned several acts of parliament which had established that mode of ecclesiastical government, and had prohibited all conventicles. For this purpose they chose the 29th of May, the anniversary of the restoration; and previously extinguished the bonfires that had been kindled on that occasion. Count Graham, afterwards viscount Dundee, an active and enterprising officer, attacked a great conventicle upon Loudon-hill, but was repulsed with the loss of 30 men. The covenanters then finding themselves unwarily engaged in rebellion, were obliged to persevere; and therefore pushed on to Glasgow, which, though repulsed at first, they afterwards made themselves masters of. Here they dispossessed the established clergy, and issued proclamations in which they declared that they fought against the king's supremacy, against Popery and prelacy, and against a Popish successor.

Charles, being now alarmed, dispatched against the covenanters a small body of English cavalry under the duke of Monmouth. He joined the Scots guards, and some regiments of militia levied from the well-affected counties; and with great celerity marched in quest of the insurgents. They had taken post at Bothwell-bridge between Hamilton and Glasgow; where there was no access but by the bridge, and where a small body was able to defend it against the king's army. The whole army of the covenanters never exceeded 8000 men, and they had in reality no other generals than their clergymen. Monmouth attacked the bridge, and the covenanters maintained their post as long as their ammunition lasted. When they sent for more, they received orders to quit their post and retire; and this imprudent measure occasioned an immediate defeat. Monmouth passed the bridge without opposition, and drew up his forces opposite to the enemy. His cannon alone put them to the rout. About 700 were killed in the pursuit; for, properly speaking, there was no action. Twelve hundred were taken prisoners, and treated with humanity by Monmouth. Such as promised to live peaceably under the present government were dismissed; and about 300 who refused this condition were shipped for Barbadoes, but unfortunately perished by the way. Two of their clergymen were hanged. Soon after, an act of indemnity was passed; but Lauderdale took care that it should afford little protection to the unhappy covenanters; for though orders were given to connive thenceforward at all conventicles, he found means under a variety of pretences to elude the execution of them.

It is now certainly known, that king Charles II. had formed a scheme of overturning the established religion, and substituting Popery in its place; as also of rendering himself absolute. In this, however, he met with violent opposition from his parliaments; and as this one of 1679 seemed even to surpass their predecessors in violence, the king was induced to dissolve them and call another in 1689. By this step, however, he was no gainer. They voted the legality of petitioning the king; and fell with extreme violence on the abhorred, who in their addresses to the crown had expressed their disapprobation of those petitions. Great numbers of these were seized by their order in all parts of England, and committed to close custody: the liberty of the subject, which had been so carefully guarded by their own recent law, was every day violated by their arbitrary and capricious imprisonments. One Stowel of Exeter put a stop to their proceedings: he refused to obey the sergeant at arms who was sent to apprehend him; he stood upon his defense, and said he knew no law by which the house of commons pretended to commit him. The house, finding it equally dangerous to proceed or recede, got off by an evasion. They voted that Stowel was indisposed; and a month's time was allowed him for his recovery. It is happy for the nation, that should the commons at any time overstep the bounds of their authority, and capriciously order men to be put in prison, there is no power, in case of resistance, that can compel the prisoner to submit to their decrees.

The chief point, however, laboured by the present parliament was, to obtain the exclusion bill, which, though the former house had voted, was never yet passed into a law. It passed by a great majority in the house of commons, but was thrown out by the house of peers. All the bishops, except three, voted against it; for they were of opinion that the church of England was in much greater danger from the prevalence of Presbyterianism than Popery. The commons were extremely mortified at the rejection of their favourite bill; in revenge, they passed several other disagreeable acts, among which one was, That, till the exclusion bill was passed, they could not, consistent with the trust reposed in them, grant the king any manner of supply; and that whoever should hereafter lend, by way of advance, any money upon any branches of the king's revenue, should be responsible to parliament for his conduct. Charles, therefore, finding that there were no hopes of extorting either money or obedience from the commons, came to a resolution of once more dissolving the parliament. His usher of the black-rod accordingly came to dissolve them while they were voting that the dissenters should be encouraged, and that the Papists had burned the city of London.

It was for some time a doubt whether the king would ever call another parliament: his necessities, however, surmounted all his fears of their violence; and, in 1681, he summoned his parliament to meet him at Oxford, that he might thus have an opportunity of punishing the city of London by shewing his suspicions of their loyalty. In this, as in all former parliaments, the country party predominated; and they trod exactly in the same paths with their predecessors. The same speaker was chosen, and the exclusion bill urged more fiercely than before. Ernely, one of the king's ministers, proposed that the duke should be banished 500 miles from England; and that, on the king's decease, the next heir should be constituted regent with regal power. Yet even this expedient, which left the duke the bare title of king, could not obtain the attention of the house. Nothing but a total exclusion could satisfy them.

Each party had now for some time reviled and ridiculed each other in pamphlets and libels; and this practice at last was attended with an incident that deserves notice. One Fitzharris, an Irish Papist, employed a Scotsman named Everhard to write a libel against the king and the duke of York. The Scot was actually a spy for the contrary party; and supposing this a trick to entrap him, he discovered the whole to Sir William Waller, an eminent justice of the peace; and, to convince him of the truth of his information, posted the magistrate and two other persons privately, where they heard the whole conference between Fitzharris and himself. The libel composed between them was replete with the utmost rancour and ferocity. Waller carried the intelligence to the king, and obtained a warrant for committing Fitzharris, who happened at that very time to have a copy of the libel in his pocket. Seeing himself in the hands of a party from whom he expected no mercy, he resolved to side with them, and throw the odium of the libel upon the court, who, he said, were willing to draw up a libel which should be impugned to the exclusioners, and thus render them hateful to the people. He enhanced his services to the country-party by a new Popish plot more tremendous than any of the foregoing, and in which he brought in the duke of York as a principal accomplice.

The king imprisoned Fitzharris; the commons avowed his cause. They voted that he should be impeached by themselves, to secure him from the ordinary forms of justice: the lords rejected the impeachment; the commons asserted their right: a commotion was likely to ensue; and the king, to break off the contest, went to the house and dissolved the parliament, with a fixed resolution never to call another.

From this moment the king ruled with despotic power. His temper, which had always been easy and merciful, now became arbitrary and cruel; he entertained spies and informers round the throne, and imprisoned all such as he thought most daring in their designs. He resolved to humble the presbyterians: they were divested of their employments and their places; and their offices given to such as held with the court, and approved the doctrine of non-resistance. The clergy began to testify their zeal and their principles by their writings and sermons; but though among these the partizans of the king were the most numerous, those of the opposite faction were the most enterprising. The king openly espoused the cause of the former; and thus placing himself at the head of a faction, he deprived the city of London, which had long headed the party of its popular party, of their charter. It was not till after an abject submission that he restored it to them, having previously subjected the election of their magistrates to his immediate authority.

Terrors also were not wanting to confirm this new species of monarchy. Fitzharris was brought to a trial before a jury, and condemned and executed. The whole gang of spies, witnesses, informers, suborners, which had long been encouraged and supported by the leading patriots, finding now that the king was entirely master, turned short upon their ancient drivers, and offered their evidence against those who first put them in motion. The king's ministers gave them encouragement; and in a short time the same injustice and the same cruelties were practised against presbyterian schemes, that had formerly been practised against Catholic treasons. The king's chief resentment was levelled against the earl of Shaftesbury; and, indeed, not without reason, as he had had a very active hand in the late disturbances. No pains were spared to seek for evidence, or even to suborn witnesses, against this intriguing and formidable man. A bill of indictment being presented to the grand jury, witnesses were examined, who swore to such incredible circumstances as must have invalidated their testimony, even if they had not been branded as perjured villains. Among his papers, indeed, a draught of an association was found, which might have been construed into treason; but it was not in the earl's hand-writing, nor could it be proved that he had ever communicated this scheme to any body, or signified his approbation of any such project. The sheriffs had summoned a jury, whose principles coincided with those of the earl; and that probably, more than any want of proof, procured his safety.

In 1683, the city of London was deprived of its charter; which was restored only upon terms of the utmost submission, and giving up the nomination of their own magistrates. This was so mortifying a circumstance, that all the other corporations in England soon began to fear the same treatment, and were successively induced to surrender their charters into the hands of the king. Considerable sums were exacted for restoring these charters; and all the offices of power and profit were left at the disposal of the crown. Refusal now, however justifiable, could not be safe; and all prudent men saw no other expedient but submitting patiently to the present grievances.

There was a party, however, in England, that still cherished their former ideas of freedom, and resolved to restore liberty to their country by dethroning the king who acted in such a despotic manner. The principal conspirators were Monmouth, Shaftesbury, Ruffell, Essex, Howard, Algernon Sidney, and John Hampden, grandson to the great man of that name. Monmouth engaged the earl of Macclesfield, Lord Brandon, Sir Gilbert Gerard, and other gentlemen in Cheshire. Lord Ruffell fixed a correspondence with Sir William Courtney, Sir Francis Knowles, and Sir Francis Drake, who promised to raise the well. Shaftesbury, with one Ferguson, an independent clergyman, and a restless plotter, managed the city, upon which the confederates chiefly relied. These schemes had been laid in 1681; but the caution of lord Ruffell, who induced the duke of Monmouth to put off the enterprise, saved the kingdom from the horrors of a civil war; while Shaftesbury was struck with a sense of his impending danger, that he left his house, and, lurking about the city, attempted, but in vain, to drive the Londoners to an open insurrection. At last, enraged at the numberless cautions and delays which clogged and defeated his projects, he threatened to begin with his own friends singly. However, after a long struggle between fear and rage, he abandoned all hopes of success, and fled to Amsterdam, where he soon after died.

The loss of Shaftesbury, though it retarded, did not suppress, the designs of the conspirators. The remaining six formed a council; they corresponded with Argyll and the malcontents in Scotland; and resolved to prosecute the scheme of the insurrection, tho' they widely differed in principles from one another. Monmouth aspired at the crown; Ruffell and Hamden proposed to exclude the duke of York from the succession, and redress the grievances of the nation; Sidney was for restoring the republic; and Essex joined in the same wish. Lord Howard was an abandoned man, who, having no principles, sought to embroil the nation, to gratify his private interest in the confusion.

Besides these, there was a set of subordinate conspirators, who frequently met together, and carried on afflicting projects quite unknown to Monmouth and his council. Among these was colonel Rumney, an old republican officer; lieutenant-colonel Walcot, of the same stamp; Goodenough, under-sheriff of London, a zealous and noted party-men; Ferguson, an independent minister; and several attorneys, merchants, and tradesmen of London. But Ramley and Ferguson were the only persons that had access to the great leaders of the conspiracy. These men undertook the desperate resolution of assassinating the king in his way to New-market; Rumbold, one of the party, possessed a farm upon that road, called the Rye-house, and from thence the conspiracy was called the Rye-house plot. They deliberated on a scheme of stopping the king's coach by overturning a cart on the high way at this place, and shooting him through the hedges. The house in which the king lived at New-market accidentally took fire, and he was obliged to leave New-market eight days sooner than was expected; to which circumstance he owed his safety. Soon after this, the conspiracy was discovered; Russell, Sidney, and Walcot, were executed; Essex cut his own throat; Hampden was fined £4,000; and scarce one escaped who had been in any manner concerned, except the duke of Monmouth, who was the most culpable of all.

This was the last blood that was shed on account of plots or conspiracies, which continued during the greatest part of this reign. Severe punishments, however, were inflicted on many who treated the duke of York unworthily. The famous Titus Oates was fined £100,000 for calling him a Popish traitor; and he was imprisoned till he should pay it, which he was absolutely incapable of. A similar sentence was passed upon Dutton Colt. Sir Samuel Barnadilton was fined £10,000 for having, in some private letters, reflected on the government. The government of Charles was now as absolute as that of any prince in Europe; but, to please his subjects by an act of popularity, he judged it proper to marry the lady Anne, his niece, to prince George brother to the king of Denmark. This was the last remarkable transaction of this extraordinary reign. On February 2nd, 1685, about eight in the morning, the king was seized with a fit of the apoplexy; being drest, and just come out of his closet, where he had been for some time after he rose from bed. By being blooded, he was restored perfectly to his senses; and there were great hopes of his recovery the next day. On the fourth day the physicians despaired of his life, and therefore sent for the queen. He was in his perfect senses when she arrived. She threw herself on her knees, and asked his pardon for all her offences. He replied, that she had offended in nothing; but that he had been guilty of offences against her, and asked her pardon. He spoke with great affection to the duke of York, and gave him excellent counsel for his future conduct. He advised him to adhere to the laws with strictness, and invariably to support the church of England. The duke seemed anxious to convince him before he died how little he intended to follow his advice. Having removed the bishops, and several of the lords who attended the bed of the king, he sent for Huddleston, a Romish priest. In the presence of the duke, the earl of Bath, and Trevannion a captain in the guards, Huddleston gave the extreme unction to the king, and administered to him the sacrament according to the rites of the church of Rome. All this was done in the space of half an hour. The doors were then thrown open. Six prelates, who had before attended the king, were sent for to give him the sacrament. Kenn, bishop of Bath and Wells, read the visitation of the sick; and, after he said that he repented of his sins, the absolution. The king affixed with seeming devotion at the service; but his mouth being distended with fits, and his throat contracted, he could not swallow the elements. He professed, however, his satisfaction in the church of England; and expired on the 6th of February, between 11 and 12 o'clock; having reigned 25 years, and lived 55.

The first act of James II.'s reign was to assemble the privy council; where, after some praises bestowed on the memory of his predecessor, he made professions of his resolution to maintain the established government both in church and state; and as he had heretofore ventured his life in defence of the nation, he would still go as far as any man in maintaining all its just rights and privileges.

This discourse was received with great applause, not only by the council, but by the whole nation. Addresses came from all quarters, full of duty, may of the most fervent adulation. From this charge, however, we must except those of the Quakers, which is remarkable for its good sense and simplicity. "We are come Quakers (said they) to testify our sorrow for the death of our good friend Charles, and our joy for thy being made our governor. We are told that thou art not of the persuasion of the church of England no more than we; wherefore we hope that thou wilt grant us the same liberty which thou allowest thyself. Which doing, we wish thee all manner of happiness."

The king, however, soon showed, that he either was not sincere in his promises, or that he entertained so lofty an idea of his own legal power, that even his utmost sincerity could tend very little to the security of the liberties of the people. All the customs, and the greater part of the excise, which had been voted to the late king for his life only, were levied by James without a new act for that purpose. He went openly to mas with all the ensigns of his dignity; and even sent one Caryl as his agent to Rome to make submissions to the Pope, and to pave the way for the re-admission of England into the bosom of the Catholic church. From the suggestions of these men all his measures were undertaken. One day when the Spanish ambassador ventured to advise his majesty against putting too much confidence in such kind of people, "Is it not the custom in Spain (said James), for the king to consult with his confessor?" "Yes, (answered the ambassador), and that is the reason why our affairs succeed so very ill."

James's first parliament, which was composed mostly of zealous tories, was strongly inclined to comply with the measures of the crown. They voted unanimously, that they should settle on the present king, during life, all the revenue enjoyed by the late king till the time of his decease. For this favour, James assured them, that he would secure them in the full enjoyment of their laws; but with regard to religion, no answer could be extorted, for that he was resolved to alter. In everything, however, religion excepted, James merited every praise. He applied himself to business with unremitting attention. He managed his revenue with the strictest economy. He retrenched superfluous expenses, and shewed himself zealous for the glory of the nation. He endeavoured to expel from court the vice which had prevailed so much during the former reign, and to restore decency. decency and morality. He presided daily at the council, at the boards of admiralty and treasury. He even entered into the whole detail of the concerns of the great departments of the state. But his bigotry for the Romish religion fulfilled all his good qualities, and rendered him feared for his violence, where he was not despised for his weaknesses.

But whilst every thing was submitted in tranquillity to James at home, a storm was gathering abroad to disturb his repose. For a long time the prince of Orange had entertained hopes of ascending the British throne, and had even used all his endeavours to exclude James from it. Monmouth who, since his last conspiracy, had been pardoned, but ordered to depart the kingdom, had retired to Holland. He was received by the prince of Orange with the highest marks of distinction, and even became his chief favourite through whom all favours were to be obtained. When the news of Charles's death arrived, indeed, the prince made a show of altering his note, and dismissed Monmouth, though he still kept a close correspondence with him. The duke retired to Brussels, where, under the auspices of the prince of Orange, he resolved to invade England, with a design of seizing the crown for himself. He was seconded by the duke of Argyle, who formed the scheme of an insurrection in Scotland; and while Monmouth attempted to make a rising in the west of England, it was resolved that Argyle should also try his endeavours in the north. The generosity of the prince of Orange, however, did not correspond with the warmth of his professions. The unfortunate duke derived from his own plate and jewels his whole supply for the war; and the enthusiasm of a rich widow supplied Argyle with 10,000l., wherewith he purchased three vessels, which he loaded with arms and ammunition.

Argyle was the first who landed in Scotland, where he published his manifestoes, put himself at the head of 2500 men, and strove to influence the people in his favour. But a formidable body of the king's forces coming against him, his army fell away; and he himself, after being wounded in attempting to escape, was taken prisoner by a peasant who found him standing up to the neck in water. He was from thence carried to Edinburgh, where after suffering many indignities he was publicly executed.

By this time Monmouth had landed in Dorsetshire with scarce 100 followers. His name, however, was so popular, and so great was the hatred of the people to James on account of his religion, that in four days he had assembled a body of above 2000 men. They were indeed all of them the lowest of the people, and his declarations were suited entirely to their prejudices. He called the king the duke of York; and denominated him a traitor, a tyrant, a murderer, and a Popish usurper. He imputed to him the fire of London, and even affirmed that he had poisoned the late king.

Monmouth continued to make a rapid progress, and in a short time found himself at the head of 6000 men; but was daily obliged to dismiss great numbers for want of arms. The king was not a little alarmed at his invasion. Six regiments of British troops were called over from Holland; and a body of regulars, to the number of 3000, were sent, under the command of the earl of Feversham and Churchill, to check the progress of the rebels. They took post at Sedgemore, a village in the neighbourhood of Bridgewater, and were joined by considerable numbers of the country militia. Here Monmouth resolved, by a desperate effort, to lose Sedgemore, his life, or gain the kingdom. He drove the royal infantry from their ground, and was on the point of gaining a complete victory, when the cowardice of Gray, who commanded the horse, brought all to ruin. This nobleman fled at the first onset; and the rebels, being charged in flank, gave way after a three-hours contest. About 300 were killed in the engagement, and 1000 in the pursuit. Monmouth fled above 20 miles from the field of battle, till his horse sunk under him. He then alighted; and, exchanging clothes with a shepherd, fled on foot, attended by a German count who had accompanied him from Holland. Being quite exhausted with hunger and fatigue, they both lay down in a field, and covered themselves with fern. The shepherd, being found in Monmouth's clothes by the pursuers, increased the diligence of the search; and by the means of blood-hounds he was detected in his miserable situation, with raw pease in his pocket, on which he had lived for some days. He burst into tears when seized by his enemies; and petitioned, with the most abject submissions, for his life. On his way to London, he wrote a submissive letter to the king, promising discoveries, should he be admitted into his presence. The curiosity of James being excited by the letter, he sent Sheldon a gentleman of the bed-chamber to meet Monmouth. In his conversation with Sheldon, he asked who was in chief confidence with the king; and being answered that it was Sunderland, Monmouth knocked his breast in a surprize, and said, "Why then, as I hope for salvation, he promised to meet me." He desired Sheldon to inform the king, that several of his accomplices in rebellion were in the confidence of his majesty; and he gave him a particular account of the part which the prince of Orange had acted in his whole affair.

Sheldon, on his return from the duke of Monmouth, began to give an account to the king of what he had learned from the unhappy prisoner. Sunderland, pretending business, came into the room. Sheldon stopped, and signified his desire to speak in private with the king. James told him he might say anything before that lord. Sheldon was in great perplexity; but being urged, he told all that Monmouth had affected. Sunderland appeared, for some time, confused; at length he said, with a laugh, "If that is all he can discover to save his life, he will derive little good from his information." Monmouth himself was soon after brought before the king. Sunderland by an artifice ensured the death of the unfortunate duke, to save himself and the other adherents of the prince of Orange. When he saw Monmouth's letter to James, and heard the discoveries made by Sheldon, he is said to have advised him, that, as he could assure him of the certainty of a pardon, he ought to deny what he had said in prejudice of his friends, who could serve him on some other more favourable occasion. The credulous duke, swayed by the advice of Sunderland, suppressed what he had said to Sheldon, when he was examined by the king. He mentioned nothing of the concern which the prince of Orange had taken in the invasion; tho' a point on which James was already sufficiently informed. D'Avaux, the French minister to the States, had given given a circumstantial account of the whole conduct of the prince to Lewis XIV. who had ordered it to be privately communicated to the king of England. The minister who had been sent from Holland to congratulate James on the suppression of Argyle's rebellion, was in a grievous agony when he heard that the king was resolved to see Monmouth. "Though he found that he said nothing of his matter," (said James), "he was never quiet till Monmouth was dead."

The unfortunate duke made various attempts to obtain mercy. He wrote to the queen dowager; he sent a letter to the reigning queen, as well as to the king himself. He begged his life, when admitted into his presence, with a meanness unsuitable to his pretensions and high rank. But all his entreaties and submissions were of no avail. James told him, that he was much affected with his misfortunes, but that his crime was too dangerous in its example to be left unpunished. In his last moments he behaved with a magnanimity worthy of his former courage. When he came to the scaffold, he behaved with decency and even with dignity. He spoke little; he made no confession; nor did he accuse any of his friends. Circumstances are said to have attended his death that created a horror among the spectators. The executioner missed his blow, and struck him slightly on the shoulder. Monmouth raised his head from the block, and looked him full in the face, as if reproaching him for his mistake. He struck him twice again, but with feeble strokes; and then threw the ax from his hands. The sheriff forced him to renew his attempt; and the head of the duke, who seemed already dead, was at last severed from his body.

Those concerned in the duke of Monmouth's conspiracy were punished with the utmost severity. Immediately after the battle of Sedgemoor, Feversham hanged up above 20 prisoners; and was proceeding in his executions, when the bishop of Bath and Wells informed him that these unhappy men were now by law intitled to a trial, and that their execution would be deemed a real murder. Nineteen were put to death in the same manner at Bridgewater, by colonel Kirke, a man of a savage and bloody disposition. This vile fellow, practiced in the arts of slaughter at Tangier, where he served in garrison, took pleasure in committing instances of wanton barbarity. He ravaged the whole country, without making any distinction between friend and foe. His own regiment, for their peculiar barbarity, went under the ironical title of Kirke's lambs. It doth not, however, appear that these cruelties were committed by the direction, or even with the approbation, of James; any more than the legal slaughters that were committed by judge Jefferies, who was sent down to try the delinquents. The natural brutality of this man's temper was inflamed by continual intoxication. No fewer than 80 were executed by his orders at Dorchester; and on the whole, at Exeter, Taunton, and Wells, 250 are computed to have fallen by the hand of justice as it was called; nor were women exempted from the general severity, but suffered for harbouring their nearest kindred. Jefferies on his return was immediately created a peer, and soon after vested with the dignity of chancellor. In justice to the king, however, it must be owned, that in his memoirs he complains, with apparent indignation, of "the strange havoc made by Jefferies and Kirke in the west;" and that he attributed the unpopularity, which afterwards deprived him of the crown, to the violence and barbarity of those pretended friends of his authority. He even ascribes their severities, in some degree, to a formed design of rendering his government odious to his subjects; and from hence it is probable, that no exact or impartial accounts of these cruelties had reached his ears, at least till long after they were committed.

James now began to throw off the mask, and to endeavour openly to establish Popery and arbitrary power. He told the house of commons, that the militia were found by experience to be of no use; that it was necessary to augment the standing army; and that he had employed a great many Catholic officers, in whose favour he had thought proper to dispense with the test required to be taken by all who were employed by the crown. He found them useful, he said, and he was determined to keep them employed. These stretches of power naturally led the lords and commons into some degree of opposition; but they soon acquiesced in the king's measures, and then the parliament was dissolved for their tardy compliance. This was happy for the nation; for it was perhaps impossible to pick out another house of commons that could be more ready to acquiesce in the measures of the crown; but the dissolution of this parliament was generally looked upon as a sign that James never intended to call another.

The parliament being dismissed, James's next step was to secure a Catholic interest in the privy council. Accordingly four Catholic lords were admitted, viz. Catholics Powis, Arundel, Belasyse, and Dover. Sunderland, promoted, who saw that the only way to gain preferment was by Popery, became a convert. Rochester, the treasurer, was turned out of his office, because he refused to conform. Even in Ireland, where the duke of Ormond had long supported the royal cause, this nobleman was displaced as being a Protestant; and the lord Tyrconnel, a furious Roman-catholic, was placed in his stead. In his zeal for Popery, it is said, that James stooped so low as even to attempt the conversion of colonel Kirke; but the daring soldier told him, that he was pre-engaged; for he had promised the king of Morocco, when he was quartered at Tangiers, that, if ever he changed his religion, he would turn Mahometan.

At last the clergy of the church of England began English clergy oppose the court measures. The pulpits now thundered out against Popery; and it was urged, that it was more formidable from the support granted it by the king. It was in vain that James attempted to impose silence on these topics; instead of avoiding the controversy, the Protestant preachers pursued it with greater warmth.

To effect his designs, the king determined to revive the high commission court, which had formerly given the nation so much disgust, and which had been abolished for ever by act of parliament. An ecclesiastical commission was issued out anew, by which seven commissioners were invested with a full and unlimited authority over the whole church of England.—The next step was to allow a liberty of conscience to all sectaries; and he was taught to believe that the truth of the Catholic religion would then, upon a fair trial, gain the victory. In such a case, the same power that granted liberty of conscience... conscience might restrain it; and the Catholic religion alone be allowed to predominate. He therefore issued a declaration of general indulgence, and asserted that non-conformity to the established religion was no longer penal. In Scotland, he ordered his parliament to grant a toleration only to the Catholics, without interceding in the least for the other dissenters who were much more numerous. In Ireland, the Protestants were totally expelled from all offices of trust and profit, and Catholics put in their places. These measures sufficiently disgusted every part of the British empire; but, to complete the work, James publicly sent the earl of Cattlemaine ambassador extraordinary to Rome, in an embassy-order to express his obedience to the Pope, and reconcile his kingdoms to the Catholic communion. This proceeding was too precipitate to be relished even by the Pope himself; and therefore the only return he made to this embassy was the sending a nuncio into England. The nuncio made a public and solemn entry into Windsor; which did not fail to add to the general discontent; and because the duke of Somerset refused to attend the ceremony, he was dismissed from his employment of one of the lords of the bed-chamber.

Soon after this, the Jesuits were permitted to erect colleges in different parts of the kingdom, and to exercise the Catholic worship in the most public manner. Father Francis, a Benedictine monk, was recommended by the king to the university of Cambridge, for the degree of master of arts. The university rejected him on account of his religion; and presented a petition to the king, beseeching him to recall his mandate. James disregarded their petition, and denied their deputies a hearing; the vice-chancellor himself was summoned to appear before the high commission court, and deprived of his office; yet the university persisted, and father Francis was refused. The place of president of Magdalen college being vacant, the king sent a mandate in favour of one Farmer, a new convert, and a man of bad character in other respects. The fellows of the college made very submissive applications for recalling his mandate; but the election-day coming on before they received an answer, they chose Dr Hough, a man of learning, integrity, and resolution. The king was incensed at their presumption; an inferior ecclesiastical court was sent down, who finding Farmer a man of scandalous character, issued a mandate for a new election. The man now recommended by the king was doctor Parker; a man of an abandoned character, but very willing to embrace the Catholic religion. The fellows refused to comply with this injunction; which so irritated the king, that he came down to Oxford in person, and ordered the fellows to be brought before him. He reproached them with their insolence and disobedience; and commanded them to choose Parker without delay. Another refusal on their side served still more to exasperate him; and finding them resolute in the defence of their privileges, he ejected them all except two from their benefices, and Parker was put in possession of the place. Upon this, the college was filled with Catholics; and Charnock, one of the two that remained, was made vice-president.

In 1688, a second declaration for liberty of conscience was published almost in the same terms with the former; but with this peculiar injunction, that all divines should read it after service in their churches. The clergy resolved to disobey this order. Loyde bishop of St Asaph, Ken of Bath and Wells, Turner of Ely, Lake of Chichester, White of Peterborough, and Trelawney of Bristol, together with Sancroft the primate, concerted an address in form of a petition to the king, which, with the warmest expressions of zeal and submission, remonstrated, that they could not read his declaration consistent with their consciences, or the respect they owed the Protestant religion. The king received their petition with marks of surprize and displeasure. He said he did not expect such an address from the church of England, particularly from some amongst them; and persisted in his orders for their obeying his mandate.

As the petition was delivered in private, the king summoned the bishops before the council, and there questioned them whether they would acknowledge it. They for some time declined giving an answer; but being urged by the chancellor, they at last owned the petition. On their refusal to give bail, an order was immediately drawn for their commitment to the Tower, prisoned, and the crown lawyers received directions to prosecute them for a seditious libel. The king gave orders that they should be conveyed to the Tower by water, as the whole city was in commotion in their favour. The people were no sooner informed of their danger, than they ran to the river-side in prodigious multitudes, craving their blessing; calling upon heaven to protect them, &c. The very soldiers by whom they were guarded, kneeled down before them, and implored their forgiveness.

The 29th of June 1688 was fixed for the trial of the bishops; and their return was still more splendidly attended than their imprisonment. Twenty-nine peers, a great number of gentlemen, and an immense crowd of people, waited upon them to Westminster-hall. The dispute was learnedly managed by the lawyers on both sides. The jury withdrew into a chamber where they passed the whole night; but next morning they returned into court, and pronounced the bishops not guilty. They are Westminster-hall instantly rang with loud acclamations, acquitted, which were communicated to the whole extent of the city. They even reached the camp at Hounslow, where the king was at dinner in lord Feversham's tent. His majesty demanding the cause of those rejoicings, and being informed that it was nothing but the soldiers shouting for the delivery of the bishops; "Call you that nothing! (cried he); but so much the worse for them." Immediately after this, the king struck out two of the judges, Powel and Holloway, who had appeared to favour the bishops. He issued orders to prosecute all those clergymen who had not read his declaration, and all had refused it except two. He sent also a mandate to the new fellows, whom he had obtruded on Magdalen college, to elect for president, in the room of Parker lately deceased, one Gifford, a doctor of the Sorbonne, and titular bishop of Madura.

As the king found the clergymen every where adverse to his measures, he was willing next to try what he could do with the army. He thought, if one regiment should promise implicit obedience, their example would soon induce others to comply. He therefore ordered one of the regiments to be drawn up in his presence, and desired that such as were against his late declaration of liberty of conscience should lay down their arms. He was surprised to see the whole battalion ground their arms, except two officers and a few Roman-catholic soldiers.—A fortunate circumstance happened about this time in his family. A few days before the acquittal of the bishops, the queen was brought to bed of a son, who was baptized by the name of James. This would, if anything could at that time, have served to establish him on the throne; but so great was the animosity against him, that a story was propagated that the child was supposititious; and so great was the monarch's pride, that he scorned to take any precautions to refute the calumny.

Though the enthusiasm of James himself bordered upon madness, the most wild of his religious projects seem to have been suggested by his enemies to accomplish his ruin. The earl of Sunderland, whom he chiefly trusted, was a man of abandoned principles, insatiable avarice, and fitted by nature for stratagem, deception, and intrigue. The love of money was his ruling passion, and he sold his influence to the highest bidder. To such a degree was he mercenary; that he became at once the penioner of the prince of Orange and of the king of France. The former, who had long fixed his eye on the English throne, watched James's motions, and took every advantage of his errors. He had laid his schemes so extensively, that nothing but the birth of a male heir to the crown of England could possibly prevent him from an almost immediate possession of the kingdom. He had the address to render two thirds of the powers of Europe interested in his success. The treaty of Augsburg, formed to break the power of France, could not accomplish its object without the accession of England. The house of Austria, in both its branches, preferred their political views to their zeal for the Roman faith, and promoted the dethronement of James as the only means to humble Lewis XIV. Odechalcchi, who under the name of Innocent XI. filled then papal chair, was gained to the measures of the prince of Orange by other considerations, as well as through his fixed aversion to France. The prince of Orange sent his intimate friend the prince of Vaudemont to Rome, to procure the aid of the Pope. He explained to his Holiness, that the Catholic princes were in the wrong to expect any advantage to their faith from James, as his being a declared Papist rendered his people averse to all his measures. As for himself, should he have the good fortune to mount the throne of England, he might take any step in favour of the Roman-catholics without jealousy; and he promised to procure a toleration for the Papists, should the Pope, the emperor, and the king of Spain, favour his attempt. This negotiation procured the desired effect. Innocent contributed, with the money of the church, to expel a Roman-catholic prince from his throne.

Though the contest with the bishops had completed the king's unpopularity, he derived the suddenness of his ruin from the birth of a prince of Wales. That circumstance increased the fears of his subjects in proportion as it raised his security and hopes. In the reign of a prince to be educated under the prejudices of such a father nothing but a continuance of the same unconstitutional measures could be expected. So low indeed was his credit among his people at this time, and such prelence they all seemed to have of his fate, that the child had like to have died before a wet nurse could be procured to suckle him.

The prince of Orange, seeing the national discontent now raised to the highest pitch, resolved to take advantage of it. He began by giving one Dykevelt, his envoy, instructions to apply in his name to every religious sect in the kingdom. To the church-party he sent assurances of favour and regard; and protested, that his education in Holland had noway prejudiced him against episcopacy. To the non-conformists he sent exhortations, not to be deceived by the infidels carelesse of their known enemy, but to wait for a real and sincere protector, &c. In consequence of these intimations, the prince soon received invitations from the most considerable persons in the kingdom. Admirals Herbert and Ruffel assured him in person of their own and the national attachment. Henry Sidney, brother to Algernon, and uncle to the earl of Sunderland, came over to him with assurances of an universal combination against the king. Lord Dumbaline, son to the earl of Danby, being master of a frigate, made several voyages to Holland, and carried from many of the nobility tenders of duty and even considerable sums of money to the prince of Orange. Soon after, the bishop of London, the earls of Danby, Nottingham, Devonshire, Dorset, and several other lords, gentlemen, and principal citizens, united in their addresses to him, and treated his speedy descent. The people, though long divided between whig and tory, now joined against their unhappy sovereign as a common enemy. William therefore determined to accept of their invitations; and this the more readily, as he perceived the malcontents had conducted themselves with prudence and secrecy. Having the principal servants of James in pay, he was minutely informed of the most secret actions and even designs of that prince. His intelligence came, through Sidney, from Sunderland, who betrayed the very measures which he himself had advised. The prince had a fleet ready to sail, and troops provided for action, before the beginning of June 1688.

The king of France was the first who gave James warning of his danger, and offered to assist him in repelling it. But he declined this friendly offer, left it should be said that he had entered into a private treaty with that monarch to the prejudice of the Protestant religion. Being also deceived and betrayed by Sunderland, he had the weakness to believe, that the reports of an invasion were invented in order to frighten him into a strict connexion with France. He gave credit to the repeated assurances of the states, that the armament prepared in their ports was not designed against England. Nay, he even believed the assertions of the prince himself, whose interest it was to deceive. Sunderland deprecated against the possibility of an invasion, and turned to ridicule all who believed the report. Having by the prior consent of James taken possession of all the foreign correspondence, he suppressed every intelligence that might alarm; and even all others whom James trusted, except Dartmouth, affected long to give no faith to the reports of an invasion.

Lewis, finding his first offers rejected, next proposed to march down his army to the frontiers of the Dutch all afflicting provinces, and thus detain their forces at home for their own defence. But this proposal met with no better reception than the former. Still Lewis was unwilling to abandon a friend and ally whose interest he regarded. garded as closely connected with his own. He ventured to remonstrate with the Dutch against the preparations they were making to invade England. The Dutch treated his remonstrance as an officious impertinence, and James himself declined his mediation.

The king of England, having thus rejected the afflatus of his friends, and being left to face the danger alone, was astonished with an advice from his minister in Holland, that an invasion was not only projected, but avowed. When he first read the letter containing this information, he grew pale, and the letter dropped from his hand. He saw himself on the brink of destruction, and knew not to whom to apply for protection.

In this emergency, Lewis wrote to James in his own hand, that, to divert the Dutch from their intended invasion of England, he would lay siege to Maestricht with 30,000 men. James communicated this intelligence to Sunderland, and he to the prince of Orange. Six thousand men were thrown into Maestricht; and by the design of Lewis, as being impracticable, was laid aside. On this, Lewis, being disgusted with James, turned his arms towards Germany. The dauphin laid siege to Philipburgh on the 5th of October; and prince Clement of Bavaria, by throwing a strong garrison into Cologne, effectually secured the states of Holland from any sudden danger from the arms of France.

James had now no resource but in retreating from those precipitate measures which had plunged him into inextricable distress. He paid court to the Dutch, and offered to enter into any alliance with them for their common security. He replaced in all the counties of England all the deputy lieutenants and justices who had been deprived of their commissions for their adherence to the test and penal laws. He restored the charters of such corporations as he had polluted himself of; he annulled the high commission court; he reinstated the expelled president and fellows of Magdalen college; and was even reduced to care for those bishops whom he had so lately persecuted and insulted.

All these concessions, however, were now too late; they were regarded as the effects of fear, and not of repentance. Indeed, it is said, he very soon gave proofs of his sincerity: for, hearing that the Dutch fleet was dispersed, he recalled those concessions he had made in favour of Magdalen college; and, to show his attachment to the Roman church, at the baptism of the prince of Wales he appointed the Pope one of the sponsors.

In the mean time, William set sail from Helvoetsluys with a fleet of near 500 vessels, and an army of above 14,000 men. Fortune, however, seemed at first every way unfavourable to his enterprise. He was driven back by a dreadful storm; but he soon refitted his fleet, and again set sail for England. It was given out that this invasion was designed for the coasts of France; and many of the English, who saw the fleet pass along their coasts, little suspected the place of its destination. It happened that the same wind which sent the Dutch to their place of destination, detained the English fleet in the river: so that the Dutch passed the fireships of Dover without molestation; and, after a voyage of two days, landed at Broxbourne in Torbay, on the 5th of November, the anniversary of the gunpowder treason.

But though the invitation from the English was very general, the prince for some time had the mortification to find himself joined by very few. He continued for ten days in expectation of being joined by the malcontents, and at last was going to despair of success. But just when he began to deliberate about reembarking his forces, he was joined by several persons of consequence, and the whole country soon after flocked to his standard. The first person that joined the prince was major Burlington, and he was quickly followed by the gentry of the counties of Devon and Somerset. Sir Edward Seymour made proposals for an association, which was signed by great numbers; and every day there appeared some effect of that universal combination into which the nation had entered against the measures of the king.

This was followed by the defection of the army. Lord Colchester, son to the earl of Rivers, first deserted of king to the prince. Lord Cornbury, son to the earl of Clarendon, carried off the greatest part of three regiments of cavalry at once; and several officers of distinction informed Faversham their general, that they could not in honour fight against the prince of Orange. Soon after this, the unhappy monarch found himself deserted by his own servants and creatures. Lord Churchill had been raised from the rank of a page, and had been invested with an high command in the army; he had been created a peer, and owed his whole fortune to the king's bounty: yet even he deserted among the rest; and carried with him the duke of Grafton natural son to the late king, colonel Berkley, and some others.

In this universal defection, James, not knowing where to turn, began to think of requelling assistance from France when it was now too late. He wrote to Leopold emperor of Germany: but in vain; that monarch only returning for answer, That what he had foreseen had happened. James had some dependence on his fleet; but they were entirely disaffected. In a word, his interests were deserted by all, for he had long deserted them himself. He still found his army, however, to amount to 20,000 men; and had he led them immediately to battle, it is possible they might then have fought in his favour. But James's misfortunes had deprived him of his natural firmness and resolution; and, seeing himself deserted by those in whom he thought he could have placed most confidence, he became suspicious of all, and was in a manner deprived even of the power of deliberation. In this extremity of distress, the prince of Denmark, and Anne James's favourite daughter, perceiving the desperation of his circumstances, cruelly resolved to take part with the prince of Orange. When the king was informed of this, he was flung with the most bitter anguish. "God help me (cried he), my own children have forsaken me." To add to his distress as a parent, he was accused of being accessory to the death of his own child. Her nurse, and her uncle the earl of Clarendon, went up and down like distracted persons, affirming that the Papists had murdered the princess. They publicly asked the queen's servants whether they had conveyed her? and they contributed to inflame the populace, whose zeal had already inflamed them to tumult and disorder. It was, however, soon known that the fleet, under the conduct of the bishop of London, to Northampton.

On the 30th of November 1688, James sent three of his noblemen to treat with the prince of Orange. But though the latter knew very well that the king's commissioners mitioners were in his interests, his behaviour showed plainly that he now thought the time of treating was past. For some time he would not admit them to an audience; and, when he did, would give no satisfactory answer. James now began to be afraid of his personal safety. But what most affected him was the terror of the queen for herself and her infant son. He therefore resolved to send them abroad. They crossed the river in a boat, at Whitehall, in a stormy and rainy day. They were carried to Gravesend in a coach, under the conduct of the count de Lauzun. A yacht, commanded by captain Gray, which lay there ready for the purpose, soon transported them in safety to Calais.

The king was now so dispirited and distracted, that he resolved to leave the kingdom at once, and thus throw everything into confusion. He threw the great seal into the Thames; he left none with any authority to conduct affairs in his absence; and he vainly hoped to derive advantage to his affairs from anarchy and disorder. About twelve at night, on the 10th of December, he disguised himself, took boat at Whitehall, and crossed the river. Sir Edward Hales, with another friend, met him at Vauxhall with horses. He mounted; and being conducted through by-ways by a guide, he passed in the night-time to the Medway, which he crossed by Aylesford-bridge. At Woolpeck he took fresh horses, sent thither before by Sheldon one of his equerries who was in the secret of his flight. He arrived at ten o'clock at Embyferry near Faversham, where a customhouse hoy, hired by Sir Edward Hales, lay ready to receive them on board. But the wind blew fresh, and the vessel had no ballast. The matter, therefore, easily persuaded the king to permit him to take in ballast at Shiloea. It being half ebb when they ran ashore, they despaired to fail as soon as the vessel should be afloat. But when the vessel was almost afloat, she was boarded by three fisher-boats belonging to Faversham, containing 50 men. They seized the king and his two companions, under pretence of their being Papists that wanted to escape from the kingdom. They turned up Faversham water with the tide; but still the king remained unknown. Sir Edward Hales placed privately 50 guineas in the hands of the captain, as an earnest of more should he permit them to escape. He promised; but was so far from keeping his word, that he took what money they had, under pretence of securing it from the seamen; and, having pacified himself of their all, he left them to their fate. The unfortunate fugitives were at length carried in a coach to Faversham, amid the insults, clamours, and shouts, of the sailors. When the king was brought to the inn, a seaman, who had served under him, knew him, and melted into tears; and James himself was so much moved at this instance of his affection, that he wept. The other fishermen, who had treated him with such indignity before, when they saw his tears, fell upon their knees. The lower inhabitants of the whole village gathered round him; but the better sort fled from his presence. The seamen, however, formed themselves into a guard round him, and declared that "a hair of his head should not be touched." In the mean time, Sir James Oxenden, under the pretence of guarding him from the rabble, came with the militia to prevent his escape. The king found a change in his condition when he was taken out of the hands of the sailors. The commanders of the militia showed him no respect. He was even insulted by the common soldiers. A letter which he intended to send to London for clothes, a change of linen, and some money, was stopped by those who pretended to protect his person.

All things in the mean time ran into confusion at London; and the prince of Orange exercised in his own person all the functions of royalty. He issued a declaration to the disbanded army to reassemble themselves. He ordered the secretary at war to bring him a list of the king's troops. He commanded the lord Churchill to collect his troop of horse-guards. He sent the duke of Grafton to take possession in his name of Tilbury fort. The assembly of peers adjourned to the council-chamber at Whitehall; and, to give the appearance of legality to their meeting, chose the marquis of Halifax for their president. While this assembly was sitting, on the 13th of December, a poor countryman, who had been engaged by James, brought an open letter from that unfortunate prince to London. It had no superscription; and it was addressed to none. It contained, in one sentence only, his deplorable condition when in the hands of a desperate rabble. This poor messenger of their fallen sovereign had long waited at the council door, without being able to attract the notice of any who passed. The earl of Mulgrave at length, apprised of his business, had the courage to introduce him to the council. He delivered his open letter, and told the state of the king with tears. The assembly were so much moved, that they sent the earl of Faversham with 200 of the guards towards Faversham. His instructions were to rescue him first from danger, and afterwards to attend him to the sea-coast, should he choose to retire. He chose, however, to return to London; but the prince of Orange sent a message to him desiring him to advance no nearer the capital than Rochester. The messenger missed James by the way. The king sent Faversham with a letter to the prince of Orange, requesting his presence in London to settle the nation. He himself proceeded to that place, and arrived on the 16th of December. Doubting the fidelity of the troops who were quartered at Westminster, he chose to pass through the city to Whitehall. Never prince returning with victory to his capital was received with louder acclamations of joy. All the streets were covered with bonfires. The bells were rung, and the air was rent with repeated shouts of gladness. All orders of men crowded to his coach; and, when he arrived at Whitehall, his apartments were crowded with people who came to express their joy at his return.

The prince of Orange received the news of his return with an haughty air. His aim from the beginning was to force him by threats and severities to relinquish the throne. The Dutch guards were ordered to take possession of Whitehall, and to displace the English. The king was soon after commanded by a commandment, which he received in bed at midnight, to leave his palace next morning, and to depart for Ham, a seat of the duchess of Lauderdale's. He desired, however, permission to retire to Rochester, a town not far from the sea-coast, and opposite to France. This was readily granted; and it was now perceived that the harsh measures of the prince had taken effect, and that the king meditated an escape to France.

The kings, surrounded by the Dutch guards, arrived at Rochester, on the 19th of December. The restraint put upon his person, and the manner in which he had been forced from London, raised the indignation of many, and the compassion of all. The English army, both officers and soldiers, began to murmur; and had it not been for the timidity and precipitation of James himself, the nation had certainly returned to their allegiance. He remained three nights at Rochester, in the midst of a few faithful friends. The earls of Aran, Dumbarton, Ailebury, Litchfield, and Middleton, were there; and, with other officers of merit, the gallant lord Dundee. They argued against his flight with united efforts. Several bishops, some peers, and many officers, intreated his stay in some part of England. Message followed message from London. They represented that the opinions of men began to change, and that events would daily rise in favour of his authority. Dundee added his native ardour to his advice. "The question, Sir," (said he), "is, Whether you shall stay in England, or fly to France? Whether you shall trust the returning zeal of your native subjects, or rely on a foreign power? Here you ought to stand. Keep possession of a part, and the whole will submit by degrees. Refuse the spirit of a king. Summon your subjects to their allegiance. Your army, though disbanded, is not dispersed. Give me your commission. I will gather 10,000 of your troops. I will carry your standard at their head through England, and drive before you the Dutch and their prince." The king replied, "that he believed it might be done; but that it would raise a civil war, and he would not do so much mischief to a nation that would soon come to their senses again." Middleton urged his stay, though in the remotest part of the kingdom. "Your majesty, (said he), may throw things into confusion by your departure; but it will be but the anarchy of a month: a new government will soon be settled, and you and your family will be ruined." These spirited remonstrances had no effect upon James. He resolved to quit the kingdom; and having communicated his design to a few of his friends, he passed at midnight through the back-door of the house where he lodged, and with his son the duke of Berwick, and Biddulph one of his servants, went in a boat to a smack, which lay waiting for him without the fort of Sheerness. By reason of a hard gale they were forced to bear up toward Leigh, and to anchor on the Essex-side, under the lee of the land. When the gale slackened, they reached the Buoy of the Narrows without tacking; but not being able to weather the Goodwin, they were forced to sail through the downs. Seven ships lay there at anchor; but the smack passed unquestioned along. Unable to fetch Calais, she bore away for Boulogne, and anchored before Ambleteuse. The king landed at three o'clock in the morning of Tuesday, December 25th; and taking post, soon joined his queen at St Germain.

James having thus abandoned his dominions, the prince of Orange remained master of them of course. By the advice of the house of lords, the only member of the legislature remaining, he was desired to summon a parliament by circular letters; but the prince, unwilling to act upon so imperfect an authority, convened all the members who had sat in the house of commons during any parliament of Charles II. and to these were added the mayor, aldermen, and fifty of the common council of London; and the prince, being thus supported by an assembly deriving its authority from himself, wrote circular letters to the counties and corporations of England to call a new parliament.

The house being met, which was mostly composed of the Whig party, thanks were given to the prince of Orange for the deliverance he had brought them; after which they proceeded to settle the kingdom. A vote soon passed both houses, that king James II. having endeavoured to subvert the constitution of the kingdom, by breaking the original contract between the king and his people; and having by the advice of Jesuits and other wicked persons violated the fundamental laws, and withdrawn himself out of the kingdom; had abdicated the government, and that the throne was thereby vacant.

The king being thus deposed, it was easy for William to get himself appointed as his successor. Proposals were made for electing a regent. Others were for investing the princes of Orange with regal power, and declaring the young prince supposititious. To these proposals, however, William opposed the following decisive argument, viz. that "he had been called over to defend the liberties of the British nation, and that he had happily effected his purpose; that he had heard of several schemes proposed for the establishing of the government; that if they chose a regent, he thought it incumbent upon him to inform them that he would not be that regent; that he would not accept of the crown under the princess his wife, though he was convinced of her merits: that therefore, if either of these schemes was adopted, he could give them no assistance in the settlement of the nation; but would return home to his own country, satisfied with his aims to secure the freedom of theirs." Upon this, after a long debate in both houses, a new sovereign was preferred to a regent by a majority of two voices. It was agreed that the prince and princess of Orange should reign jointly as king and queen of Britain; while the administration of government should be placed in the hands of the prince only. The marquis of Halifax, as speaker of the house of lords, made a solemn tender of the crown to their Highnesses, in the name of the peers and commons of Britain. The prince accepted the offer; and that very day, February 13th 1689, William and Mary were proclaimed king and queen of Great Britain.

Though Mary was comprehended in the royal title, she never possessed either the authority of a queen, or the influence of a wife. Her easy temper had long been subdued by the stern severity of a husband who had very few amiable qualities. Being brought up in a manner under the tuition of her spouse, and in some degree confined by his orders, she was accustomed to adopt implicitly his political maxims and even his thoughts; and in consequence of her want of importance with him, she ceased to be an object of consequence in the eyes of the nation.

William began his reign with issuing a proclamation for continuing in office all Protestants that had been in place on the first of the preceding December. On the 17th of the month he formed his privy council, which consisted chiefly of such persons as had been most active in raising him to the throne. To gratify as many as possible of his friends, the several boards, and even the chancery, were put into commission. The benches of the exchequer and common law were filled with persons who had distinguished themselves against the measures of the late king. The earl of Nottingham who had violently opposed the elevation of William, and the earl of Shrewsbury who had adhered to his views, were made secretaries of state. The marquis of Halifax, and the earl of Danby, though rivals in policy, were admitted into the cabinet; the first as lord privy seal, the second as president of the council. His Dutch friends in the meantime were not forgotten by the king. Bentinck, his favourite, was made a privy councillor, groom of the stole, and privy purse. Auverquerque was appointed master of the horse. Zuylstein received the office of master of the robes. Schomberg was placed at the head of the ordnance.

Though these instances of gratitude were no doubt necessary to William, the generality of the nation were displeased. The tories were offended at being excluded from his favour, especially as they had departed from their principles in order to serve him. The nation in general were much prejudiced against foreigners, and universal discontent ensued upon seeing them preferred. The king, who had been bred a Calvinist, was also very strongly inclined to favour that sect; and his prejudices in favour of Calvinism were almost equal to those of James in favour of Popery. Finding, therefore, the clergy of the church of England little inclined to take the oaths to the new government, he began openly to indulge his own prejudices in favour of dissenters. Having come to the house of lords to pass some bills, on the 16th of March, he made a speech, urging the necessity of admitting all Protestants indiscriminately into the public service. He told his parliament, that he had something to communicate, which would conduce as much to their settlement as to the disappointment of their enemies. He informed them, that he was employed in filling up the vacancies in offices of trust; and he hoped that they were sensible of the necessity of a law to settle the oaths to be taken by such persons as should be admitted into place. As he doubted not, he said, that they would sufficiently provide against Papists, so he hoped that they would leave room for the admission of all Protestants that were able and willing to serve.

This proposition was rejected with vehemence. The adherents of the church complained that the ruin which they feared from the Papists in the preceding reign was now to be dreaded from the Protestant dissenters. They affirmed, that if the established religion was to be destroyed, it mattered little by whose hands it must fall. A bill brought in by the ministry for abrogating the former oaths of supremacy and allegiance was rejected.

An attempt to dispense with the sacramental test was made without success in another form. The court party proposed that any man should be sufficiently qualified for an office by producing a certificate of his having received the sacrament in any Protestant congregation. But this motion was also rejected in the house of lords by a great majority. William repeated his attempts of a comprehension; but he was ultimately unsuccessful, and in the coronation-oath the church-party inserted a clause highly favourable to themselves, viz. that the king should maintain the Protestant religion "as established by law." To this clause William is said to have discovered an apparent unwillingness to swear.

For these and other reasons the government of William was for some time but in a very tottering condition. The king, either through want of health or inclination, interfered but little in the affairs of the nation. Ireland was strangely neglected. Halifax and Danby, who had in a manner raised the king to the throne, caballed with his enemies. They perceived that the people, with the same levity that induced them to desert their former sovereign, were beginning to be discontented with their new prince. Everything seemed to tend to a change. Halifax himself declared, that were James to conform with the Protestants, he could not be kept four months from reasserting his throne. Danby averred, that were the late king to give satisfaction for the security of religion, it would be difficult to oppose his restoration. From these apparent contents of the nation, the friends and emulators of James assumed more boldness. They tampered with the servants of the crown, and inflamed the army. The former they alarmed with the prospect of a sudden change; the latter they roused into indignation by the manifest preference given by William to his countrymen the Dutch.

Though the kingdom of Scotland did not at first recognize the authority of William, yet the party of knowledge in favour of James never attained sufficient strength to be of any effectual service to him in that kingdom. Thirty Scots peers, and near 80 gentlemen, then in London, had waited in the beginning of January on the prince of Orange. Without any authority from the regency still subsisting in Edinburgh, they formed themselves into a kind of convention. The prince of Orange in a formal manner asked their advice. He withdrew, and they adjourned to the council-chamber at Whitehall. The duke of Hamilton being chosen president, explained the distracted state of Scotland. He represented, that disorders, anarchy, and confusion, prevailed; and he urged the necessity of placing the power somewhere till a convention of states should be called to form a lasting and solid settlement. When the heads of their addresses to the prince of Orange were fettered, and ordered to be engrossed, the earl of Arran unexpectedly arose, and proposed to invite back the king. The meeting, however, adhered to the prince of Orange; and waited on him in a body, requesting him to take the administration into his hands. He thanked them for the trust they had repose in him; and a convention was ordered to meet at Edinburgh on the 14th of March, and it was provided that no exception or limitation whatever should be made, except that the members should be Protestants.

A secession, however, was made from this convention, in favour of James. The archbishop of Glasgow, the earl of Balcarres, and the viscount Dundee, were authorized by an instrument signed by the late king, at that time in Ireland, to call a convention of the states at Stirling. But this measure was disappointed, first by the wavering disposition of the marquis of Athol, and afterwards by the delay and folly of the party. At last, the viscount Dundee, being alarmed by an information of a design formed by the covenanters to assassinate him, left Edinburgh at the head of When he passed under the walls of the castle, the duke of Gordon who held that place, and favoured the cause of James, called him to a conference. He scrambled up the precipice, and informed the duke of his designs in favour of the late king. He conjured him to hold out the castle, under a certainty of being relieved. The novelty of the fight collected multitudes of spectators. The convention were alarmed. The president ordered the doors to be locked, and the keys to be laid upon the table. The drums were beat to alarm in the town. A parcel of ill-armed retainers were gathered together in the street by the earl of Lennox. Dundee in the mean time rode off with his party. But when they found themselves secure, the duke of Hamilton adjourned the convention, which relieved the adherents of James from dreadful apprehensions for their own safety. Fifty members retired from Edinburgh; and that circumstance procured an unanimity in all the succeeding resolutions of the convention. Soon after this it was determined in a committee, that James had forfeited his right to the crown, by which was meant that he had perpetually excluded himself and his whole race from the crown, which was thereby become vacant. This resolution was approved by the convention, and another was drawn up for raising William and Mary to the vacant throne; in consequence of which they were proclaimed at Edinburgh on the 11th of April 1689.

The castle of Edinburgh was still kept, in the name of James, by the duke of Gordon; but despairing of any relief, and pressed by a siege, he surrendered it on the 13th of June, upon honourable terms. The adherents of James, terrified with this unexpected misfortune, now turned their eyes to the vicount Dundee. That nobleman having been in vain urged by the convention to return, they had declared him a fugitive, an outlaw, and a rebel. General Mackay had been sent to Scotland by William with four regiments of foot, and one of dragoons; and Dundee being apprised of his design to surprise him, retired to the Grampian mountains with a few horse. He marched from thence to Gordon castle, where he was joined by the earl of Dunfermline with 50 gentlemen. He then passed through the county of Murray to Inverness. Macdonald of Keppoch lay with 700 men before that town; after having ravaged in his way from his own country the lands of the clan of Macintosh. Dundee, having promised to the magistrates of Inverness to repay, at the king's return, the money extorted from them by Macdonald, induced the latter to join him with all his men. He could not prevent them, however, from first returning home with their spoil. He accompanied them to Lochaber, and on the 8th of May arrived in Badenoch. From thence he wrote letters to the chiefs of all the clans, appointing them to meet at a general rendezvous in Lochaber, on the 18th of the same month. In the mean time, passing suddenly through Athol, he surprized the town of Perth. In hopes of gaining to his party the two troops of Scots dragoons, who lay at Dundee, he marched suddenly to that place; but the fidelity of captain Balfour, who commanded them, disappointed his views. Having raised the land-tax as he passed, Dundee returned through Athol and Rannoch to hold the diet of rendezvous at Lochaber. Here he was reinforced by several Highland chieftains, so that his army amounted to 1500 men. He pursued Mackay for four days, who had advanced to Inverness, but afterwards retreated to Strathbogie, leaving the whole Highlands exposed to the enemy.

Soon after, however, Dundee found himself surrounded with many difficulties. The officers of the Scots dragoons, who held a secret correspondence with him, wrote him false intelligence, as an excuse for their own fears. They informed him that a party of Irish, who had endeavoured to land in Scotland, under the duke of Berwick, were driven back, and the duke himself taken prisoner; and that Mackay had been reinforced with a regiment of English horse, and another of foot. On this intelligence, Dundee retreated to Badenoch. The natives of the low country who served in his army quitted him without leave; and the Highlanders plundered the country wherever they came: at last he himself fell sick, while Mackay hovered on his rear. A slight skirmish happened, in which the Highlanders prevailed; but they lost their baggage during the action. Dundee at length arrived at Ruthven; but Mackay being reinforced with a body of 1200 men advanced against him, and other regiments had arrived at Perth and Dumbarton. The Highlanders now deserted every night by hundreds; their gallant leader himself was forced to retire to Lochaber, where only 200 of his whole force remained with him; and, to complete his misfortunes, he received at the same time news of the surrender of the castle of Edinburgh.

On the 23rd of June, letters arrived from king James, with a promise of immediate succours from Ireland; upon which Dundee ordered the neighbouring clans to assemble round his standard. But till he had scarce anything but the mere bodies of his men with which he could prosecute the war. The Highlanders were armed only with their own proper weapons, and he had no more than 40 pounds of powder in his whole army. All difficulties, however, were surmounted by the active spirit of the general, for whom the army entertained an enthusiastic zeal. On the 17th of July, he met the king's forces under general Mackay, near the pass of Killcranky. An engagement ensued, in which the Highlanders were victorious. Two thousand of Mackay's men were lost either in the field or in the pursuit; but the victory cost the Highlanders very dear, for their brave general was mortally wounded. He survived the battle, however; and wrote an account of the victory to king James; he even imagined his wound was not mortal; but he died the next morning at Blair. With him ended all the hopes of James in Scotland. Colonel Cannon, who succeeded Dundee in the command, possessed neither his popularity nor his abilities. After some insignificant actions, in which the valour of the folderies was more conspicuous than the conduct of their leader, the Highlanders dispersed themselves in disgust; and the war soon after ended favourably for William, without any repulse given to his enemies.

During the troubles in England, which had terminated in placing William on the throne, the two parties elected in Ireland were kept in a kind of tranquillity by their mutual fears. The Protestants were terrified at the prospect of another massacre; and the Papists expected every day to be invaded by the joint force of the English and Dutch. Their terrors, however, were ill founded; for though Tyrconnell sent several messages to to the prince, that he was ready to deliver up the kingdom to any force that might make a surrender decent; his offers were always rejected. William was persuaded by the marquis of Halifax, that, should Ireland yield, no pretence could remain for keeping an army in pay; that then, having no army to protect his authority, he might as easily be turned out as he had been brought in; that the English nation could never remain long in a state of good humour; and that he might perceive they already began to be discontented. These insidious arguments induced William to neglect Ireland in such a manner as is justly looked upon to be one of the greatest blemishes in his whole reign. His enemies, indeed, though perhaps without any good foundation, affix a worse cause; viz., that should England be confirmed under his government, Ireland could not long hold out; and that the obstinacy of his Irish enemies would give a pretence for forfeitures to gratify his English, but especially his foreign friends.

Tyrconnell, disappointed in his views of surrendering Ireland to the prince of Orange, affected to adhere to James. The whole military force of the kingdom at that time amounted only to 4000 men, and of these only 600 were in Dublin; and what was still worse, all of them were so much disposed to quit the service, that the lord deputy was obliged to issue commissions for levying new forces. Upon this, an half-armed rabble, rather than army, rose suddenly in various parts of the kingdom. Having no pay from the king, they subsisted by depredation, and regarded no discipline. The Protestants in the north armed themselves in their own defence; and the city of Londonderry, relying on its situation, and a flight wall, that its gates against the new-raised army. Protestant parties in the mean time rose everywhere, declaring their resolutions to unite in self-defence, to preserve the Protestant religion, to continue their dependence on England, and to promote the meeting of a free parliament.

To preserve appearances, William now sent general Hamilton, an Irishman and a Roman-catholic, to treat with Tyrconnell; but instead of persuading that lord to yield to William, this messenger advised him to adhere to James. In the mean time James himself assured the lord deputy, that he was ready to sail from Brexit with a powerful armament. Hamilton, assuming spirit from the hopes of this aid, marched against the northern insurgents. They were routed with considerable slaughter at Drumore; and Hillborough, where they had fixed their head-quarters, was taken without resistance: the city of Londonderry, however, resolved to hold out to the last extremity.

On the 7th of March 1689, James embarked at Brexit. The whole force of his expedition consisted of 14 ships of war, 6 frigates, and three fire-ships. Twelve hundred of his native subjects in the pay of France, and 100 French officers, composed the whole army of James. He landed at Kinfaile without opposition on the 12th of the month, where he was received with the utmost demonstrations of joy. His first care was to secure in the fort of Kinfaile, the money, arms, and ammunition, which he brought from France; and put the town in some posture of defence: which having done, he advanced to Corke. Tyrconnell arrived at this place soon after, and brought intelligence of the route at Drumore. The king was so much pleased with his attachment and services, that he created him a duke; after which, he himself advanced towards Dublin. The condition of the rabble, who poured round him under the name of an army, was not calculated to raise his hopes of success. The most of them were only provided with clubs; some had sticks tipped with iron; and even of those who were best armed, scarce two in a hundred had muskets fit for service. Their very numbers distressed their sovereign, and ruined the country; in so much that James resolved to disband the greatest part of them. More than 100,000 were already on foot in the different parts of the island. Of these he referred 14 regiments of horse and dragoons, and 35 regiments of foot; the rest he ordered to their respective homes, and armed those that were retained in the best manner he could.

Being received at Dublin with an appearance of universal joy, James proceeded immediately to business. He ordered by proclamation all Protestants who had abandoned the kingdom to return. He commanded in a second proclamation, all Papists, except those in his army, to lay up their arms, and put an end to the robberies and depredations which they had committed in the violence of their zeal. He raised the value of the currency by a proclamation; and he summoned a parliament to meet on the 15th of May, to settle the affairs of the kingdom. The Protestant clergy represented their grievances in an address; and the university of Dublin appeared with complaints and congratulations. He assured the first of his absolute protection, and a full redress; and he promised the latter not only to defend, but even to enlarge, their privileges.

On the 8th of April, James left Dublin, resolving to lead his army against the insurgents in person. They retired before him, and the king laid siege to Londonderry. The besieged made such a vigorous resistance as has made the place remarkable ever since; but being reduced to the last extremity, they would have been obliged to surrender, had not they been relieved on the 28th of July, by seven ships laden with provisions; upon which, the siege was immediately raised.

In the mean time, the distressed situation of James, and his absolute dependence upon France, drove him to disagree into measures which otherwise he would never have thought of. His soldiers for some time had been supported by their officers, or subsisted by depredation. The funds of the officers were at last exhausted, and the country itself could no longer bear the riot and injustice of the soldiers. Prefixed by these difficulties, James, by the advice of his council, resolved to coin pieces of copper, which should be received for silver. He saw well enough the inconveniences of this measure; but all Ireland possessed not the means of paying the army, in current coin, to the middle of June. Of the French remittances only 200,000 livres remained; and the king found it absolutely necessary to refer that sum, to forward his measures with regard to Britain, and to procure intelligence of the motions of his enemies. The army was satisfied even with this appearance of money, and the people received the fictitious coin in hopes of being repaid in a more favourable state of affairs. A tax of 20,000l. a month, granted for 13 months by the parliament, furnished government with an appearance of resources; and in the mean time the king endeavoured to support the former revenue. He opened opened a trade with France to supply the want of commerce with England. But the French, knowing their own importance, and the necessity of the unfortunate monarch's affairs, claimed and obtained advantages in traffic, which offended his own subjects.

To add to the distress of James, Ireland was now invaded by 10,000 men under the command of the duke of Schomberg. They appeared on the 12th of August 1689, in 90 transports, on the coast of Downshadec, in the county of Down. Next day Schomberg landed without opposition his army, horses, and train of artillery. Having marched to Belfast on the 15th, he continued in that place four days to refresh his troops. He invested Carrickfergus, and threw into it 1,000 bombs, which laid the houses in ashes. The garrison having expended their powder to the last barrel, marched out with all the honours of war. But Schomberg's soldiers broke the capitulation. They disarmed and stripped the inhabitants, without any regard to sex or quality; even women, stark naked, were publicly whipped between the lines; and all this under pretence of cruelties of the same kind having been committed by the Papists.

Though Schomberg was an experienced general, who had passed a life of 80 years almost continually in the field, he found himself at a loss how to carry on the war in Ireland. He did not consider the dangers that threatened the health of his troops by confining them too long in one place; and he kept them in a low moist camp near Dundalk, almost without firing of any kind; so that the men fell into fevers and fluxes, and died in great numbers. The enemy were not less afflicted with similar disorders. Both camps remained for some time in sight of each other; and at last, the rainy season approaching, both armies quitted their camps at the same time, and retired into winter quarters.

The bad success of the campaign, and the miserable situation of the Protestants in Ireland, at length induced William to attempt their relief in person. Accordingly he left London on the 4th of June 1690, and arrived at Carrickfergus on the 14th of that month. From thence he passed to Liffburn, the head quarters of the duke of Schomberg. He reviewed at Lough-Britland his army, which consisted of 36,000 men, and was composed of English, Dutch, Germans, Danes, and French. Being supplied with every necessary, and in high health and spirits, they seemed absolutely certain of victory. The Irish army, having abandoned Ardee at their approach, fell back to the south of the Boyne. On the banks of that river they were joined by James, who had marched from Dublin at the head of his French auxiliaries. The banks of the Boyne were steep; the south side hilly, and fortified with ditches. The river itself was deep, and it rose very high with the tide. These advantages induced James, contrary to the opinion of his officers, to keep possession of this post. His army was inferior in numbers, discipline, and everything, to his enemies; but flight, he thought, would dispirit his troops, and tarnish his own reputation; he therefore resolved to put the fate of Ireland on the issue of a battle. Urged by his friends in England, and encouraged by a projected invasion of that kingdom by France, he had resolved to quit Ireland; and to this he was farther encouraged by the assurance of aid from a powerful fleet that had already entered the narrow seas. But the strength of his situation, and the sudden appearance of the enemy, which made even a retreat dangerous, induced him to defer his purpose.

William was no sooner arrived, than he rode along with his army in the river's side, in sight of both armies, to make observations on the plan of battle; but in the meantime, being perceived by the enemy, a cannon was privately brought out and planted against him where he was fitting. The shot killed several of his followers, and he himself was wounded in the shoulder. The news of his being slain was instantly propagated thro' the Irish camp, and even sent off to Paris; but William, as soon as his wound was dressed, rode through the camp, and quickly undeceived his army.

The next morning, (June 30th), the battle began at six in the morning. James's forces behaved with great resolution, but were at last defeated with the loss of 1,500 men. The Protestants lost but about one third of that number; but among these was their brave general the duke of Schomberg. He was killed by a discharge from his own troops, who, not knowing that he had been accidentally hurried into the midst of the enemy, fired upon the body of men who surrounded him. During the action, James stood on the hill of Dunmore, surrounded with some squadrons of horse; and at intervals was heard to exclaim, when he saw his own troops repelling those of the enemy, "O spare my English subjects!" While his troops were yet fighting, he quitted his station; and leaving orders to guard the pass at Duleek, made the best of his way to Dublin. He advised the magistrates of that city to make the best terms they could with the victors; and he himself set out for Waterford, where he immediately embarked for France. When he first deserted his troops at the Boyne, O'Regan, an old Irish captain, was heard to say, "That if the English would exchange generals, the conquered army would fight them over again."

The victory at the Boyne was by no means decisive, and the friends of James resolved to continue their opposition to William. Sarsfield, a popular and experienced general, put himself at the head of the army that had been routed at the Boyne, and went farther into the country to defend the banks of the river Shannon. James appointed one St Ruth to command over Sarsfield, which gave the Irish universal discontent. On the other hand, general Ginkel, who had been appointed to command the English army in the absence of William, who was gone over to England, advanced towards the Shannon to meet the enemy. The only place where it was fordable was at Athlone, a strong walled town built on both sides of the river, and in the hands of king James's party. The English soon made themselves masters of that part which was on the higher side of the river; but the part on the opposite bank being defended with great vigour, was for a long while thought impregnable. At length it was resolved in a council of war, that a body of forlorn hope should ford the stream in the face of the enemy; and this desperate enterprise was performed with great resolution; the enemy were driven from their works, and the town surrendered at discretion. St Ruth marched his army to its relief, but he came too late; for he no sooner approached, than his own guns were turned against him; upon which he instantly marched off and took post at Aughrim, at ten miles distance, where he determined to wait the English army. Ginckle did not decline the combat, though he had only 18,000 men, while the Irish were above 25,000 strong. A desperate engagement ensued; but at last St Ruth being killed, his troops gave way on all sides, and retreated to Limeric, where they determined to make a final stand, after having lost near 5000 of their best men.

Ginckle, wishing to put an end to the war at once, suffered as many of the Irish as chose, to retire to Limeric. In this last retreat the Irish forces made a brave defense. The siege commenced August 25th, 1691. Six weeks were spent before the place without any decisive effect. The garrison was well supplied with provisions, and provided with all means of defense. The winter was approaching, and Ginckle had orders to finish the war upon any terms. He therefore offered such conditions as the Irish, had they been victors, could have refused with prudence. He agreed, that all in arms should receive their pardon; that their estates should be restored; their attainders annulled, and their outlawries reversed; that none should be liable for debts incurred through deeds done in the course of hostilities; that all Roman-catholics should enjoy the same toleration with regard to their religion, as in the reign of Charles II.; that the gentry should be permitted to make use of arms; that the inferior sort should be allowed to exercise their callings and professions; that no oaths but that of allegiance should be required of high or low: that should the troops, or any number of them, choose to retire into any foreign service, they should be conveyed to the continent, at the expense of the king: Sarsfield, who had obtained the title of earl of Lucan from James after his abdication, was permitted to retain a dignity which the laws could not recognize. The lords justices had arrived from Dublin on the fifth of October. They signed the articles together with Ginckle; and thus the Irish Papists put a happy period to a war which threatened their party with absolute ruin. In consequence of this treaty, about 14,000 of those who had fought for king James went over to France, having transports provided by government for conveying them thither. When they arrived, James thanked them for their loyalty, and told them that they should still fight for their old master; and that he had obtained an order from the king of France, for their being new clothed, and put into quarters of refreshment. In this manner all James's expectations from Ireland were entirely frustrated, and the kingdom submitted quietly to the English government.

In the beginning of the year 1692, an action of unexampled barbarity disgraced the government of William in Scotland. In the preceding August, in consequence of a pacification with the Highlanders, a proclamation of indemnity had been issued to such insurgents as should take the oaths to the king and queen, on or before the last day of December. The chiefs of the few tribes who had been in arms for James complied soon after with the proclamation; but Macdonald of Glencoe failed in submitting within the limited time; more, however, from accident than design. In the end of December, he came to colonel Hill, who commanded the garrison in fort William, to take the oaths of allegiance to the government. Hill, having furnished Macdonald with a letter to Sir Colin Campbell, sheriff of the county of Argyle, directed him to repair immediately to Inverary, to make his submission in a legal manner before that magistrate. The way to Inverary lay through almost impassable mountains; the season was extremely rigorous, and the whole country covered with a deep snow. So eager, however, was Macdonald to take the oaths, before the limited time should expire, that tho' the road lay within half a mile of his own house, he would not stop to visit his family. After various obstructions, he arrived at Inverary. The time was elapsed, and the sheriff hesitated to receive his submission; but Macdonald prevailed on him by his importunities, and even tears. Sir John Dalrymple, afterwards earl of Stair, attended king William as secretary of state for Scotland. He took advantage of Macdonald's neglecting to take the oaths within the time prescribed, and procured from the king a warrant of military execution against him and his whole tribe. As a mark of his own clemency, or to save Dalrymple, William signed the warrant, both above and below, with his own hand. The secretary, in letters expressive of a brutal ferocity of mind, urged the officers who commanded in the Highlands to execute their orders with the utmost rigour. Campbell of Glenlyon, a captain in Argyle's regiment, and two subalterns, were ordered, with 120 men, to repair to Glencoe on the first of February. Campbell, being uncle to young Macdonald's wife, was received by the father with all manner of friendship and hospitality. The men were treated in the houses of his tenants with free quarters and kind entertainment. Till the 13th of the month, the troops lived in good humour and familiarity with the people. The officers, on the very night of the massacre, passed the evening and played at cards in Macdonald's house. In the night, lieutenant Lindsay, with a party of soldiers, called in a friendly manner at his door. He was instantly admitted. Macdonald, as he was rising to receive his guest, was shot dead behind his back, with two bullets. His wife had already put on her clothes; but she was stripped naked by the soldiers, who tore the rings off her fingers with their teeth. The slaughter was become general. To prevent the pity of the soldiers to their hosts, their quarters had been changed the night before. Neither age nor infirmity was spared. Some women, in defending their children, were killed. Boys, imploring mercy, were shot by officers, on whose knees they hung. In one place, nine persons, as they sat enjoying themselves at table, were shot dead by the soldiers. At Inveriggan, in Campbell's own quarters, nine men were first bound by the soldiers, and then shot at intervals, one by one. Near 40 persons were massacred by the troops. Several, who fled to the mountains, perished by famine and the inclemency of the season. Those who escaped owed their lives to a tempestuous night. Lieutenant colonel Hamilton, who had the charge of the execution from Dalrymple, was on his march with 400 men, to guard all the passes from the valley of Glencoe; but was obliged to stop by the severity of the weather, which proved the safety of the unfortunate tribe. He entered the valley next day; laid all the houses in ashes; and carried away all the cattle and spoil, which were divided among the officers and soldiers.

The entire reduction of Ireland, and the dispersion and extermination of the Highland chieftains who favoured his cause, did not entirely put an end to the hopes hopes of James. His chief expectations next were founded on a conspiracy among his English adherents, and in the succours promised him by the French king. A plot was first formed in Scotland by Sir James Montgomery; a person who, from being an adherent to William, now turned against him: but as the project was ill contrived, so it was as lightly discovered by the informer. To this another succeeded, which seemed to threaten more serious consequences, as it was managed by the whig party, who were the most formidable in the state. A number of these joined themselves to the tories, and both made advances to the adherents of the late king. They assembled together; and the result of their deliberations was, that the restoration of James was to be effected entirely by foreign forces; that he should sail for Scotland, and be there joined by 5000 Swedes; who, because they were of the Protestant religion, would, it was thought, remove a part of the odium which attended an invasion by foreigners: it was concerted that assistance should at the same time be sent from France, and that full liberty of conscience should be proclaimed throughout the kingdom. In order to lose no time, it was resolved to send over to France two trusty persons to consult with the banished monarch; and lord Preston and Mr Ashton were the two persons appointed for this embassy. Both of them, however, were seized when they least expected it, by order of lord Carmarthen. Both were condemned, and Ashton was executed without making any confession; but lord Preston had not the same resolution. Upon an offer of pardon, he discovered a great number of associates; among whom the duke of Ormond, lord Dartmouth, and lord Clarendon, were foremost.

The French at last became sensible of their bad policy in not having better supported the cause of James, and therefore resolved to make a descent upon England in his favour. In pursuance of this scheme, the French king supplied James with an army consisting of a body of French troops, some English and Scots refugees, and the Irish regiments, which had been transported into France from Limerick, and were now become excellent soldiers by long discipline and severe duty. This army was assembled between Cherbourg and La Hogue, and commanded by king James in person. More than 300 transports were provided for landing it on the opposite coast; and Tourville, the French admiral, at the head of 63 ships of the line, was appointed to favour the descent. His orders were, at all events, to attack the enemy, in case they should oppose him; so that every thing promised the banished king a change of fortune.

These preparations on the side of France were soon known at the English court; and every precaution taken for a vigorous opposition. All the secret machinations of the banished king's adherents were discovered to the English ministry by spies; and by these they found that the tories were more faithful than even the whigs who had placed king William on the throne. The duke of Marlborough, lord Godolphin, and even the princess Anne herself, were violently suspected of disaffection. Preparations, however, were made, with great tranquillity and resolution, to resist the growing storm. Admiral Russell was ordered to put to sea with all possible expedition; and he soon appeared with 99 ships of the line, besides frigates and fireships. At the head of this formidable fleet he set sail for the coast of France; and, near La Hogue, he discovered the enemy under Tourville, who prepared to give him battle. The engagement began between the two admirals with great fury; and the rest of the fleet soon followed their example. The battle lasted for ten hours; but at last victory declared on the side of numbers: the French fled for Conquet road, having lost four ships in the first day's action. The pursuit continued for two days following: three French ships of the line were destroyed the next day; and 18 more, which had taken refuge in the bay of La Hogue, were burned by Sir George Rooke. In this manner were all the French preparations frustrated; and so decisive was the blow, that from this time France seemed to relinquish all claims to the ocean.

This engagement, which happened on the 21st of May 1692, put a final period to the hopes of James. No further attempts were made in his favour, except some plots to assassinate king William, which ended only in the destruction of those who formed them. But it was never thoroughly proved that James countenanced these plots in the least; it rather appears, that in all cases he expressed the utmost abhorrence of such attempts. In 1697, the abbe de Polignac, ambassador from France in Poland, wrote to his master, that the thoughts were entertained of the late king of Britain, John Sobieski king of Poland; and that James had been already named by some of the diets as his successor. Lewis was eager to seize an opportunity of ridding himself with honour of a prince whose pretensions he could no longer support. The friends of James were also sanguine for the project; but he himself refused it. He told them, that "he would ever retain a grateful remembrance of his friends in Poland. That, however, he would not accept of the crown, had it actually been offered; much less would he endeavour to obtain by solicitation any crown which was not actually his due. That his acceptance of any other sceptre would amount to an abdication indeed of that which he deemed his right. That therefore he was resolved to remain in his present forlorn condition, professing less hopes than ever of being restored, rather than to do the least act of prejudice to his family." The same year, at an interview between king William and Lewis XIV, it was proposed that the prince of Wales (James's son) should succeed to the throne of England after the death of William. The king with little hesitation agreed to this request. He even solemnly engaged to procure the repeal of the act of settlement; and to declare by another, the prince of Wales his successor to the throne. Even this proposal was rejected by James. He told the king of France, that though he could suffer with patience the usurpation of his nephew James upon his right, he would never permit his own son to suffer be guilty of the same injustice. He urged, that should the son reign in his father's lifetime, that circumstance would amount to a formal renunciation. That the prince of Wales by succeeding to the prince of Orange, would yield his sole right, which was that of his father, &c.

From this time James lost every hope of being restored to the throne, and resigned himself entirely to his death. the austerities of religious enthusiasm. His constitution, though vigorous and athletic, had for some time begun to yield to the infirmities of age, and to that melancholy which superstition as well as his uncommon misfortunes had impressed on his mind. In the beginning of September 1701, when he was, according to his daily custom, at public prayers, he fell suddenly into lethargy; and though he recovered, his senses soon after, he languished for some days, and expired on the 6th of September. The French king, with great humanity, paid him several visits during his sickness; and exhibited every symptom of compassion, affection, and even respect.

Lewis, being under a difficulty how to proceed upon the expected death of James, called a council to take their advice, whether he should own the prince of Wales as king of Great Britain and Ireland. The king himself had hesitated long on this delicate point. But the dauphin, the duke of Burgundy, and all the princes of the blood, declared, that it was unbecoming the dignity of the crown of France not to own that the titles of the father devolved immediately upon the son. Lewis approved of this resolution, and determined to acquaint the dying king with it in person. When he arrived at St. Germain, he acquainted first the queen, and then her son, of his design. He then approached the bed in which James lay almost insensible with his disorder. The king, rising himself, began to thank his most Christian majesty for all his favours; but Lewis interrupted him. "Sir," said he, "what I have done is but a small matter; but what I have to say is of the utmost importance." The people then began to retire. "Let no person withdraw," said Lewis. "I come to acquaint you, Sir, that when God shall please to call your majesty from this world, I shall take your family into my protection, and acknowledge your son, as he then will certainly be, king of Great Britain and Ireland."

Though the defeat of the French fleet at La Hogue had put king William out of all danger from any further attempts from that quarter, he by no means possessed his throne with any kind of tranquillity. The want of a common enemy produced divisions among the people, and William began to find as much uneasiness from his parliament at home as from an enemy in the field. The uneasiness he felt from the refractory disposition of his subjects was not a little heightened by the death of his queen, who was taken off by the small-pox on the 28th of December 1694. For some time he was under a sincere concern for her loss; but as politics had taken entire possession of his mind, he lost all other concerns in the greatness of his apprehensions for the balance of power and the fluctuating interests of Europe.

His chief motive for accepting the crown was to engage England more deeply in the concerns of Europe. His great object had been to humble the French, and all his politics consisted in forming alliances against them. On the other hand, many of the English had no such animosity against the French; and these, therefore, considered the interest of the nation as sacrificed to foreign connexions; and complained that the continental war fell most heavily on them, though they had the least interest in its success. These complaints were heard by William with the most phlegmatic indifference; he employed all his attention only on the balance of power, and the interests of Europe. He became unmindful of the cultivation of internal polity; and, as he formed alliances abroad, increased the influence of party at home. Patriotism began to be ridiculed as an ideal virtue; and the practice of bribing a majority in parliament became universal. The example of the great was caught up by the vulgar; principle, and even decency, was gradually banished; talents lay uncultivated, and the ignorant and profligate were received into favour.

The king, upon accepting the crown, was resolved to preserve as much of the prerogative as possible; and he sometimes exerted a branch of it which his predecessors had never chosen to make use of, viz., the power of refusing his assent to some bills that had passed both houses. From this and other causes there were perpetual bickerings between him and his parliaments. At last William became fatigued with opposition. He admitted every restraint upon the prerogative in England, upon condition of being properly supplied with the means of humbling France. Provided the parliament supplied him with the means of executing this, he permitted them to rule the internal polity as they pleased. For the prosecution of the French war, the sums granted were indeed incredible. The nation, not contented with furnishing him such sums of money as they were capable of raising by the taxes of the year, mortgaged those taxes, and involved themselves in debts which they have never since been able to discharge.

The war with France continued during the greatest part of this king's reign; but at length the treaty of Ryswick, in 1697, put an end to those contentions in which England had engaged without policy, and came off at last without advantage. In the general pacification, her interests seemed entirely deserted; and for all the treasures she had sent to the continent, and all the blood which had been shed there, the only equivalent received was an acknowledgement of William's title from the king of France.

The king, being now freed from a foreign war, set himself to strengthen his authority at home. As he could not bear the thoughts of being a king without military command, he conceived hopes of keeping, in the time of a profound peace, those forces which had been granted during the time of danger. The commons, however, to his great mortification, passed a vote, that all the forces in the English pay, exceeding 7000 men, should be forthwith disbanded; and that those retained should be natural-born subjects of England. With this vote the king was exceedingly displeased. His indignation, indeed, was kindled to such a degree, that he actually conceived a design of abandoning the government. From this, however, his ministers diverted him, and persuaded him to consent to the passing of the bill.

These altercations continued during the remainder of this reign. William considered the commons as a body of men desirous of power for themselves, and consequently bent upon obstructing all his projects to secure the liberties of Europe. He seemed but little attached to any particular party in the house, all of whom he found at times deserted or opposed him. He therefore veered to whigs and tories indiscriminately, as interest or the immediate exigence demanded. He considered England as a place of labour, anxiety, and altercation. If he had any time for amusement or relaxation, laxation, he retired to Loo in Holland, where, among a few friends, he gave a loose to those coarse festivities which he alone was capable of relishing. Here he planned the different succession of the princes of Europe, and laboured to undermine the schemes and the power of Lewis his rival in politics and fame.

But however feeble William's desire of other amusements might be, he could scarce live without being at variance with France. Peace had scarcely been made with that nation, when he began to think of resources for carrying on a new war, and for uniting his English subjects in the confederacy against that nation. Several arts were used for inducing the people to second his aims; and the whole nation seemed at last to join in desiring a French war. He had been in Holland concerting with his allies operations for a new campaign. He had engaged in a negotiation with the prince of Hesse; who assured him, that, if he would besiege and take Cadiz, the admiral of Castile and several other grandees of Spain would declare for the house of Austria. The elector of Hanover had resolved to concur in the same measures; the king of the Romans, and prince Lewis of Baden, undertook to invest Laudan, while the emperor promised to send a powerful reinforcement into Italy: but death put a period to his projects and his ambition.

William was naturally of a very feeble constitution; and it was by this time almost quite exhausted by a series of continual disquietude and action. He had endeavoured to repair his constitution, or at least to conceal its decays, by exercise and riding. On the 21st of February 1702, in riding to Hampton-court from Kensington, his horse fell under him; and he was thrown with such violence, that his collar-bone was fractured. His attendants conveyed him to the palace at Hampton-court, where the fracture was reduced; and in the evening he returned to Kensington in his coach. The jolting of the carriage disunited the fracture; and the bones were again replaced by Bidloo his physician. This, in a robust constitution, would have been a trifling misfortune; but to him it was fatal. For some time he appeared in a fair way of recovery; but falling asleep on his couch, he was seized with a shivering, which terminated in a fever and diarrhoea, that soon became dangerous and desperate. Perceiving his end approaching, the objects of his former care lay next his heart; and the fate of Europe seemed to remove the sensations he might be supposed to feel for his own. The earl of Albemarle arriving from Holland, he conferred with him in private on the posture of affairs abroad. Two days after, having received the sacrament from archbishop Tenison, he expired, on Sunday March 8th; having lived 52 years, and reigned 13.—He was in his person of a middle stature, a thin body, and a delicate constitution. He had an aquiline nose, sparkling eyes, a large forehead, and a grave solemn aspect. He left behind him the character of a great politician, though he had never been popular; and of a formidable general, tho' he had been seldom victorious. His deportment was grave, phlegmatic, and solemn; nor did he ever show any fire but in the day of battle.

William was succeeded by the princess Anne, who had married George prince of Denmark. She ascended the throne in the 38th year of her age, to the general satisfaction of all parties. William had died at the eve of a war with France; and the present queen, who generally took the advice of her ministry on every important occasion, was now urged by opposite councils; a part of her ministry being inclined to war, and another to peace. At the head of those who opposed a war with France was the earl of Rochester, lord lieutenant of Ireland, first cousin to the queen, and the chief of the tory faction. At the head of the opposite party was the earl afterwards duke of Marlborough, and since so much renowned for his victories over the French. After giving the reasons for both their opinions, that of Marlborough preponderated; the queen resolved to declare war; and communicating her intentions to the house of commons, by whom it was approved, war was proclaimed accordingly. In this declaration of war, Lewis was taxied with having taken possession of a great part of the Spanish dominions; with designing to invade the liberties of Europe, to obstruct the freedom of navigation and commerce; and with having offered an unpardonable insult to the queen and her throne by acknowledging the title of the pretender: he was accused of attempting to unite the crown of Spain to his own dominions by placing his grandson upon the throne of that kingdom, and thus of endeavouring to destroy the equality of power that subsisted among the states of Europe. This declaration of war on the part of England was seconded by similar declarations by the Dutch and Germans, all on the same day.

Lewis XIV. whose power had been greatly circumscribed by William, expected, on the death of the latter, to enter on a field open for new conquests and fame. At the news of the English monarch's death, therefore, he could not suppress his rapture; the people of Paris, and indeed through the whole kingdom, testified their joy in the most public manner. At seeing, therefore, such a combination against him, the French monarch was filled with indignation; but his resentment fell chiefly on the Dutch. He declared with great emotion, that as for those gentlemen pedlars the Dutch, they should one day repent their insolence and presumption in declaring war against him whose power they had formerly felt and dreaded. By these threats, however, the affairs of the allies were no way influenced. Marlborough was appointed general of the British forces, and by the Dutch he was chosen generalissimo of the allied army; and indeed his after conduct showed, that no person could possibly have been chosen with greater propriety. He had learned the first rudiments of war under the famous marshal Turenne, having been a volunteer in his army; and by that general his future greatness was prognosticated.

The first attempt that Marlborough made to deviate from the general practices of the army was to advance the subaltern officers, whose merits had been hitherto neglected. Regardless of seniority, wherever he found abilities, he was sure to promote them; and thus he had all the upper ranks of commanders rather remarkable for their skill and talents, than for their age and experience. In his first campaign, in the beginning of July 1702, he repaired to the camp at Nimègue, in his first campaign, where he found himself at the head of 60,000 men well provided with all necessaries, and long disciplined by the best officers of the age. He was opposed on the part of France by the duke of Burgundy, a youth of very little experience in the art of war; but the real acting general was the marshal Boufflers, an officer of courage and activity. But wherever Marlborough advanced, the French were obliged to retire before him, leaving all Spanish Guelderland at his discretion. The duke of Burgundy finding himself obliged to retreat before the allied army, rather than expose himself longer to such a mortifying indignity, returned to Versailles, leaving Boufflers to command alone. Boufflers retired to Brabant; and Marlborough ended the campaign by taking the city of Liege; in which was found an immense sum of money, and a vast number of prisoners.

This good fortune seemed to console the nation for some unsuccessful expeditions at sea. Sir John Munden had permitted a French squadron of 14 ships to escape him by taking shelter in the harbour of Corunna; for which he was dismissed the service by prince George. An attempt was made upon Cadiz by sea and land, Sir George Rooke commanding the navy, and the duke of Ormond the land forces; but this also miscarried. At Vigo, however, the British arms were attended with better success. The duke of Ormond landed with 2500 men at the distance of six miles from the city, while the fleet forcing their way into the harbour, the French fleet that had taken refuge there were burned by the enemy to prevent their falling into the hands of the English. Eight ships were thus burned and run ashore; but ten ships of war were taken, together with eleven galleons, and above a million of money in silver. In the West Indies, admiral Bembow had been stationed with ten ships to distress the enemy's trade. Being informed that Du Caffe the French admiral was in those seas with a force equal to his own, he resolved to attack him; and soon after discovered the enemy's squadron near St Martha, steering along the shore. He quickly gave orders to his captains, formed the line of battle, and the engagement began. He found, however, that the rest of the fleet had taken some disgust at his conduct; and they permitted him to sustain, almost alone, the whole fire of the enemy. Nevertheless, the engagement continued till night; and he determined to renew it next morning. But he had the mortification to perceive that all the rest of his ships had fallen back, except one, who joined him in urging the pursuit of the enemy. Four days this intrepid seaman, afflicted by only one ship, pursued and engaged the enemy, while his cowardly officers remained at a distance behind. His last day's battle was more furious than any of the former: alone, and unsupported by any of the rest, he engaged the whole French squadron; when his leg was shattered by a cannon-ball, and he himself died soon after his wounds. Two of his cowardly associates were shot on their arrival in England; one died on his passage thither; the rest were disgraced.

The next parliament, which was convened by the queen, were highly pleased with the success of the British arms on the continent. The house of commons was composed chiefly of tories, who voted 40,000 seamen, and the like number of land-forces, to act in conjunction with those of the allies. Soon after, the queen informed her parliament, that she was pressed by the allies to augment her forces; and upon this it was resolved that 10,000 more men should be added to the continental army, but on condition that the Dutch should immediately break off all commerce with France and Spain; and this condition was very readily complied with.

In the beginning of April 1703, the duke of Marlborough crossed the sea, and, assembling the allied army, opened the campaign with the siege of Bonn, the residence of the elector of Cologne. This held out but a short time. He next retook Huy; the garrison of which, after a vigorous defence, surrendered prisoners of war. Limburg was next besieged, and surrendered in two days; and thus the campaign concluded, the allies having secured the country of Liege, and the electorate of Cologne, from the designs of the enemy.

In the campaign of 1704, the duke of Marlborough informed the Dutch that it was his intention to march to the relief of the empire, which had been for some time oppressed by the French forces; and the states gave him full powers to march as he thought proper, with assurances of their assistance in all his endeavours. The French king, finding Boufflers no longer capable of opposing Marlborough, appointed the marshal de Villeroy to command in his place. But Marlborough, who, like Hannibal of old, was remarkable for studying the disposition of his antagonists, having no great fears from Villeroy, immediately flew to the assistance of the emperor. Taking with him about 13,000 British troops, he advanced by hasty marches to the banks of the Danube; he defeated a body of French and Bavarians stationed at Donavert to oppose him; then passed the river, and laid under contribution the dukedom of Bavaria that had sided with the enemy. Villeroy, who at first attempted to follow his motions, seemed all at once to have lost sight of his enemy; nor was he apprised of his route, till informed of his successes. But, in the mean time, marshal Tallard prepared by another route to obstruct Marlborough's retreat, with an army of 30,000 men. He was soon after joined by the duke of Bavaria's forces; so that the French army in that part of the continent amounted to 60,000 veterans, commanded by the two best reputed generals then in France.

To oppose these powerful generals, the duke of Marlborough was joined by a body of 30,000 men under fested at the celebrated prince Eugene. The allied army, with this reinforcement, amounted to about 52,000. After various marches and countermarches, the two armies met at Blenheim. A terrible engagement ensued, in which the French were entirely defeated, and a country of 100 leagues extent fell into the hands of the conquerors. Soon after finishing the campaign, the duke repaired to Berlin, where he procured a reinforcement of 8000 Prussians to serve under prince Eugene in Italy. Thence he proceeded to negotiate for succours at the court of Hanover; and soon after returned to England, where he was received with every possible demonstration of joy.

The arms of Britain, in the mean time, were not less fortunate by sea than by land. The town of Gibraltar was taken by the prince of Hesse and Sir George Rooke; but so little was the value of the conquest at that time understood, that it was for some time in debate whether it was a capture worth thanking the admiral for; and at last it was considered as unworthy of public gratitude. Soon after, the British fleet, to the number of 53 ships of the line, came up with that of fested at the French, consisting of 52 men of war, commanded by the the count de Thoulouse, off the coast of Malaga. This was the last great naval engagement in which the French ventured to face the British on equal terms. The battle began at ten in the forenoon, and continued with great fury for six hours; when the van of the French began to give way. The British admiral, for two days, attempted to renew the engagement; but this was as cautiously declined by the French, who at last disappeared totally. Both sides claimed the victory, but the consequences decided it in favour of the British.

In the mean time, the Spaniards, alarmed at the taking of Gibraltar, sent the marquis of Villadarias with a large army to retake it. France also sent a fleet of 13 ships of the line; but part of them were dispersed by a tempest, and part taken by the British. Nor was the land army more successful. The siege continued for four months; during which time the prince of Hesse, who commanded the town for the English, gave many proofs of valour. At length, the Spaniards having attempted to scale the rock in vain, finding no hopes of taking the place, were contented to draw off their men, and abandon the enterprise.

While the British were thus victorious by land and sea, a new scene of contention was opened on the side of Spain. Philip IV., grandson of Lewis XIV., had been placed on the throne of that kingdom, and received with the joyful concurrence of the greatest part of his subjects. He had also been nominated successor to the crown by the late king of Spain's will. But in a former treaty among the powers of Europe, Charles, son of the emperor of Germany, was appointed heir to that crown; and this treaty had been guaranteed by France herself, though she now refused to reverse that consent in favour of a descendant of the house of Bourbon. Charles was still farther led on to put in for the crown of Spain, by the invitation of the Catalonians, who declared in his favour; and, with the assistance of the British and Portuguese, promised to arm in his cause. Upon his way to his newly assumed dominion, he landed in England; where he was received on shore by the dukes of Somerset and Marlborough, who conducted him to Windsor. He was kindly received by the queen; and furnished with 200 transports, 30 ships of war, and 9000 men, for the conquest of that extensive empire. The earl of Peterborough, a man of romantic bravery, offered to conduct them; and his single service was reckoned equivalent to armies.

The first attempt of this general was on the city of Barcelona, at that time defended by a garrison of 5000 men. The fort Montjuic, situated on a hill that commanded the city, was attacked; the outworks were taken by storm, and the powder-magazine was blown up by a shell; upon which the fort immediately surrendered, and the city capitulated in a short time after. The conquest of all Valencia succeeded the taking of Barcelona. Charles became master of Arragon, Carthagena, Grenada, and Madrid. The British general entered the capital in triumph, and there proclaimed Charles king of Spain without opposition.

To these successes, however, very little regard was paid in Britain. The victories of the duke of Marlborough alone engrossed their attention. In 1706, he opened the campaign with an army of 80,000 men. He was met by the French under Villeroy near the village of Ramillies. An engagement ensued, in which the duke gained a victory almost as complete as that of Blenheim had been; and the whole country of Brabant was the reward of the victors. The French troops were now dispirited; the city of Paris was in confusion; Lewis, who had long been flattered with conquest, was now humbled to such a degree as almost to excite the compassion of his enemies. He entreated for peace, but in vain; Lewis foes the allies carried all before them; and his very capital in vain for began to dread the approach of the conquerors. But peace, what neither his armies nor his politics could effect, was brought about by a party in England. The difference between the whigs and tories saved France that now seemed tottering on the brink of ruin.

The councils of the queen had hitherto been governed by a whig ministry; for though the duke of Marlborough started in the interest of the opposite party, he soon joined the whigs, as he found them most sincere in the design of humbling France. The people, however, were now, in fact, beginning to change, and a general spirit of Toryism to take place. The queen's personal virtues, her successes, her deference for the clergy, and their great veneration for her, began to have a prevailing influence over the whole nation. People of every rank were not ashamed to defend the most servile tenets, when they tended to flatter or increase the power of the sovereign. They argued in favour of strict hereditary succession, divine right, and non-resistance to the regal power. The tories, though joining in vigorous measures against France, were never ardently their enemies: they rather secretly hated the Dutch, as of principles very opposite to their own; and longed for an opportunity of withdrawing from their friendship. They began to meditate schemes of opposition to the duke of Marlborough. Him they considered as a self-interested man, who sacrificed the real advantages of the nation, in protracting a ruinous war for his own private emolument and glory. They saw their country oppressed with an increasing load of taxes, which by a continuance of the war must inevitably become an intolerable burden. Their discontent began to spread, and the tories wanted only a few determined leaders to assist them in removing the present ministry.

In the mean time a succession of losses began to dissipate the conquering frenzy that had seized the nation in general, and to incline them to wish for peace. The earl of Galway, who commanded the army in Spain, was utterly defeated at Almanza by the duke of Berwick; and in consequence of this victory, all Spain, except the province of Catalonia, returned to their duty, to Philip their lawful sovereign. An attempt was made upon Toulon, by the duke of Savoy and prince Eugene by land, and an English fleet by sea; but to no purpose. The fleet under Sir Cloudesly Shovel, having set sail for England, was driven by a violent storm on the rocks of Scilly. His own ship was lost, and every soul on board perished. Three more ships met with the same fate; while three or four others were saved with the utmost difficulty. In Germany, marshal Villars the French general carried all before him, and was upon the point of restoring the elector of Bavaria. The only hopes of the people lay in the activity and conduct of the duke of Marlborough, who opened the campaign of 1707, about the middle of May; but even here they were disappointed. The duke declined an engagement; and after several marches and countermarches, both armies... armies retired into winter-quarters about the end of October. The French made vigorous preparations for the next campaign; and the duke returned to England to meet with a reception he did not at all expect, and which, as far as appears, he did not deserve.

The most remarkable transaction, however, of this year, and indeed of this whole reign, was the union between the two kingdoms of Scotland and England. Though governed by one sovereign since the time of James I. of England, yet each nation continued to be ruled by its respective parliament; and often professed to pursue opposite interests to those of its neighbour. The union had often been unsuccessfully attempted before. A new attempt commenced with the beginning of Anne's reign: but some disputes arising relative to the trade of the east, the conference was broke up, and it was thought that an agreement would be impossible. It was revived by an act in either parliament, granting power to commissioners named on the part of both nations to treat on the preliminary articles of an union, which should afterwards undergo a more thorough discussion by the legislative body of both kingdoms. The choice of these commissioners was left to the queen; and she took care that none should be employed but such as heartily concurred in the measure.

The commissioners met in the council-chamber of the cock-pit near Whitehall; which was the place appointed for their conferences. Their commissions being opened, and introductory speeches pronounced by the lord keeper of England and by the lord chancellor of Scotland, the conference began. The Scots commissioners were inclined to a federal union like that of the United Provinces; but the English were bent upon an incorporation, so that no Scottish parliament should ever have power to repeal the articles of this treaty. The lord keeper Copper proposed, that the two kingdoms of Scotland and England should be for ever united into one, under the name of Great Britain; that it should be represented by one and the same parliament, and governed by the same hereditary monarch. The Scots commissioners, on their part, insisted that the subjects of Scotland should forever enjoy the same rights and privileges with those of England; and that all statutes, contrary to the tenor of these privileges in either kingdom, should be repealed. As the queen frequently exhorted them to dispatch, the articles of this famous union were soon agreed to by the commissioners; and it only remained to lay them before the parliaments of both nations.

By these articles it was stipulated, That the succession to the united kingdoms should be vested in the house of Hanover; that the united kingdoms should be represented by one and the same parliament; that all the subjects of Great Britain should enjoy a communication of privileges and advantages; that they should have the same allowances and privileges with respect to commerce and customs; that the laws concerning public right, civil government, and policy, should be the same throughout the two united kingdoms; but that no alteration should be made in laws which concerned private right, except for the evident benefit of the subjects of Scotland; that the courts of session, and all other courts of judicature in Scotland, should remain as then constituted by the laws of that kingdom, with the same authority and privileges as before the union; that Scotland should be represented in the parliament of Great Britain by 16 peers, and 45 commoners, to be elected in such a manner as should be settled by the present parliament of Scotland; that all peers of Scotland should be considered as peers of Great Britain, and rank immediately after the English peers of the like degrees at the time of the union, and before such as should be created after it; that they should enjoy all the privileges of English peers, except sitting in the house of lords and voting on the trial of a peer; that all the insignia of royalty and government should remain as they were; that all laws and statutes in either kingdom, as far as they might be inconsistent with the terms of these articles, should cease, and be declared void by both parliaments.

The obtaining the sanction of the English and Scots parliaments to these articles, was found to be a matter of much more difficulty than had been at first imagined. To induce the Scots parliament to come into the measure, it was alleged by the ministry and their supporters, that an entire and perfect union would be the foundation of a solid and lasting peace. It would secure their religion, liberty, and property; remove the animosities that prevailed among themselves, and the jealousies that subsisted between the two nations. It would increase their strength, riches, and commerce. The whole island would be joined in affection, and freed from all apprehensions of different interests, so as to be enabled to resist all its enemies, to support the Protestant interest, and maintain the liberties of Europe. It was observed, that the less the wheels of government were clogged by a multiplicity of councils, the more vigorous would be their exertions. They were shown, that the taxes, which in consequence of this union they were to pay, were by no means proportionable to their share in the legislature; that their taxes did not amount to a 70th part of those supplied by the English, and yet their share in the legislature was not a tenth part less. In the English houses it was observed, that a powerful and dangerous nation would thus for ever be prevented from giving them any disturbance: that in case of any future rupture, England had everything to lose, and nothing to gain, against a nation that was courageous and poor.

On the other hand, the Scots were fired with indignation at the thoughts of losing their ancient and independent government. The nobility found themselves degraded in point of dignity and influence, by being excluded from their seats in parliament. The trading part of the nation beheld their commerce loaded with heavy duties, and considered their new privilege of trading to the English plantations in the West Indies as a very uncertain advantage. In the English houses also it was observed, that the union of a rich with a poor nation would be always beneficial to the latter, and that the former could only hope for a participation of their necessities.—It was said, that the Scots reluctantly yielded to this coalition, and that it might be likened to a marriage with a woman against her consent. It was supposed to be an union made up of so many unmatched pieces, and such incongruous ingredients, that it could never take effect. It was complained, that the proportion of the land-tax paid by the Scots was small, and unequal to their share of the legislature. To these arguments in both nations, besides the shew of a particular answer to each, one great argument was added, which preponderated against all the lesser ones. It was observed, that all inconveniences were to be overlooked in the attainment of one great solid advantage; viz. that of acting with an uniformity of councils for the benefit of a community naturally united. The party therefore for the union prevailed; and this measure was carried in both nations, through all the obstructions of pretended patriotism and private interest.

Notwithstanding all the opposition of the English tories, every article of the union was approved in the house of lords; and being sent to be ratified by the house of commons, Sir Simon Harcourt prepared the bill in such an artful manner as to prevent all debates. All the articles as they passed in Scotland were recited by way of preamble; and in the conclusion there was one clause by which the whole was ratified and enacted into a law. By this contrivance, those who were dexterous in starting new difficulties found themselves disabled from pursuing their aim: they could not object to the recital which was merely a matter of fact; and they had not strength sufficient to oppose all the articles at once, which had before passed with the majority. It passed in the house of commons by a majority of 114; it made its way through the house of lords a second time with equal ease; and when it received the royal sanction, the queen expressed the utmost satisfaction.

The duke of Marlborough in the meantime returned to Flanders, where he seemed resolved to push his good fortune. Peace had been offered more than once; treaties entered upon, and as often frustrated. After the battle of Ramillies, the king of France had employed the elector of Bavaria to write letters in his name to the duke of Marlborough, containing proposals for opening a congress. He offered to give up either Spain and its dominions, or the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily, to Charles of Austria, and to give a barrier to the Dutch in the Netherlands. But these terms were rejected. The two armies once more met in numbers nearly equal at Oudenarde*. An engagement ensued, in which the French were defeated, and Lille the strongest town in Flanders, Ghent, Bruges, and all the other towns in that country, soon after fell into the hands of the victors. The campaign ended with fixing a barrier to the Dutch provinces, and it now only remained to force a way into the provinces of the enemy.

The French king, being now in a manner reduced to despair, again sued for peace; but the demands of the allies were so high, that he was obliged to reject them, and prepare for another campaign. This was in the year 1709. The first attempt of the allies was on the city of Tournay, garrisoned by 12,000 men, and exceedingly strong both by nature and art. After a terrible siege of 21 days, the town capitulated; and a month afterwards the citadel, which was still stronger than the town. Next followed the bloody battle of Malplaquet*; where the allied army, consisting of 110,000 men, attacked the French consisting of 120,000, strongly posted and fortified in such a manner that they seemed quite inaccessible. Nothing, however, was able to stand before the allied army; they drove the French from their fortifications: but their victory cost them dear; 20,000 of their best troops lay dead on the field of battle. The consequence of this victory was the surrender of the city of Mons, which ended the campaign.

The last campaign of the duke of Marlborough, which happened in the year 1711, is said to have excelled all his former exploits. He was opposed by the marshal Villars, the same who had commanded the French in the battle of Malplaquet. He contrived his measures so, that, by marching and countermarching, he induced the enemy to quit a strong line of entrenchments without striking a blow, which he came afterwards and took possession of. This enterprise was followed by the taking of Bouchain, which was the last military achievement of this great general. By a constant conduct of conduct and success almost unparalleled, he had gained to the allies a prodigious tract of country. From the beginning of the war, which had now continued nine years, he had perpetually advanced, and never retreated before his enemies, nor lost an advantage he had obtained over them. He most frequently gained the enemy's posts without fighting; but where he was obliged to attack, no fortifications were able to resist him. He had never besieged a city which he did not take, nor engaged in a battle in which he did not come off victorious. Thus the allies had reduced under their command Spanish Guelderland, Limbourg, Brabant, Flanders, and Hainault; they were masters of the Scarpe, the capture of Bouchain had opened for them a way into the heart of France, and another campaign might have made them masters of Paris; but on the duke's return from this campaign, he was accused of having taken a bribe of 6000 l. a-year from a Jew who had contracted to supply the army with bread; and the queen thought proper to dismiss him from all his employments.

The disgrace of the duke of Marlborough had been owing to the prevalence of the tory party, who had now got the whig ministry turned out: the consequence of this was, that in spite of all the remonstrances, memorials, &c. of the allies, the British army in Flanders was ordered not to act offensively; and in 1713, a peace was concluded between France and Britain. In this treaty it was stipulated, that Philip, now acknowledged king of Spain, should renounce all right to the crown of France, the union of two such powerful kingdoms being thought dangerous to the liberties of Europe. It was agreed, that the duke of Berry, Philip's brother, and after him in succession, should also renounce his right to the crown of Spain, in case he became king of France. It was stipulated, that the duke of Savoy should possess the island of Sicily, with the title of king; together with Fenclrelles, and other places on the continent; which increase of dominion was in some measure made out of the spoils of the French monarchy. The Dutch had the barrier granted them which they so much desired; and if the crown of France was deprived of some dominions to enrich the duke of Savoy, on the other hand the house of Austria was taxed to supply the wants of the Hollanders, who were put in possession of the strongest towns in Flanders. The fortifications of Dunkirk were demolished. Spain gave up Gibraltar and the island of Minorca. France resigned her pretensions to Hudson's bay, Nova Scotia, and and Newfoundland; but was left in possession of Cape Breton, and the liberty of drying fish upon the shore. Among the articles glorious to the British nation, their setting free the French Protestants confined in the prisons and galleys for their religion, was not the least meritorious. For the emperor it was stipulated, that he should possess the kingdom of Naples, the duchy of Milan, and the Spanish Netherlands. The king of Prussia was to have Upper Guelder; and a time was fixed for the emperor's acceding to these articles, as he had for some time obstinately refused to assent at the negotiation.

This famous treaty, which was signed at Utrecht on the last day of March 1713, was the last remarkable transaction of this reign. The rest of its history consists entirely of the intrigues of the whigs and tories against one another; which, as they are now of no importance, it is needless to take up time in relating, further than that the tory influence continued to prevail. Whether the ministry at this time wished to alter the succession from the Hanoverian line, cannot now be clearly made out; but certain it is, that the whigs firmly believed it, and the tories but faintly denied the charge. The suspicions of the former became every day stronger, particularly when they saw a total removal of the whigs from all places of trust and confidence throughout the kingdom, and their employments bestowed on professed tories, supposed to be maintainers of an unbroken hereditary succession.

The violent dissensions between these two parties, their unbounded licentiousness, cabals, and tumults, made the queen's situation very disagreeable; her health declined; and on the 28th of July 1714, she fell into a lethargic insensibility. Notwithstanding all the medicines the physicians could prescribe, the distemper gained ground so fast, that next day they despaired of her life. All the members of the privy council, without dilution, were now summoned from the different parts of the kingdom; they began to provide for the security of the constitution. A letter was sent to the elector of Hanover, informing him of the queen's desperate situation, and desiring him to repair to Holland, where he would be attended by a British squadron to convey him to England. At the same time they dispatched instructions to the earl of Strafford at the Hague, to desire the States-general to be ready to perform the guaranty of the Protestant succession. Precautions were taken to secure the sea-ports; and the command of the fleet was bestowed upon the earl of Berkeley, a professed whig. These measures, which were all dictated by that party, answered a double end. They argued the alacrity of the whigs in the cause of their new sovereign, and seemed to imply that the state was in danger from the disaffection of the opposite party.

On the 30th of July the queen seemed to be somewhat relieved by the medicines which had been given her. She rose from her bed about eight in the morning, and walked a little. After some time, casting her eyes on a clock that stood in her chamber, she continued to gaze at it for some minutes. One of the ladies in waiting asked her what she saw there more than usual; to which the queen only answered by turning her eyes upon her with a dying look. She was soon after seized with an apoplectic fit; from which, however, she was somewhat recovered by the assistance of Dr. Mead. She continued all night in a state of stupification. She gave some signs of life betwixt twelve and one the next day; but expired the following morning, a little after seven o'clock, having lived 49 years, and reigned upwards of twelve. This princess was remarkable neither for her learning nor her capacity. Like all the rest of her family, she seemed rather fitted for the duties of private life than a public station; being a pattern of conjugal fidelity, a good mother, a warm friend, and an indulgent mistress; and to her honour it certainly must be recorded, that during her reign none suffered on the scaffold for treason. In her ended the line of the Stuarts; a family who never rewarded their friends, nor ever avenged them of their adversaries; a family whose misfortunes and misconducts are not to be paralleled in history.

The queen had no sooner resigned her breath, than the privy-council met, and three instruments were produced, by which the elector of Hanover appointed several of his known adherents to be added as lords justices to the seven great officers of the kingdom. Orders also were immediately issued out for proclaiming George king of England, Scotland, and Ireland. The regency appointed the earl of Dorset to carry him the intimation of his accession to the crown, and to attend him in his journey to England. They sent the general officers, in whom they could confide, to their posts; they reinforced the garrison of Portsmouth, and appointed the celebrated Mr Addison secretary of state. No tumult, no commotion, arose against the accession of the new king; and this gives a strong proof that the tories, had they really intended to exclude him, never took any rational measures to accomplish their purpose.

The king first landed at Greenwich; where he was received by the duke of Northumberland, captain of the lifeguard, and the lords of the regency. From the landing-place he walked to his house in the park, accompanied by a great number of the nobility and other persons of distinction, who expected to make their court in this reign in consequence of their turbulence and opposition to the reigning party in the last. George I. was 54 years old when he ascended the British throne. His mature age, his sagacity and experience, his numerous alliances, and the general tranquillity of Europe, all contributed to establish his interests, and promise him a peaceable and happy reign. His virtues, though not shining, were solid; and he was of a very different disposition from the Stuart family whom he succeeded. These were known to a proverb for leaving their friends in extremity; George, on the contrary, soon after his arrival in England, was heard to say, "My maxim is, never to abandon my friends, to do justice to all the world, and to fear no man." To these qualities of resolution and perseverance, he joined great application to business. One fault, however, with regard to England, remained behind: he studied the interests of the kingdom he had left, more than of those he came to govern.

The new king soon discovered his inclination to support those who had raised him to the throne, that is, the whigs. When he retired to his bed-chamber, after his first landing, he sent for such of the nobility as had distinguished themselves by their zeal for his succession. He expressed the greatest regard for the duke. duke of Marlborough just then arrived from the continent, whither he had been driven by the violence of the tories. The same friendship he professed for the other leaders of the whigs; but the tories found themselves excluded from the royal favour. The king did not seem sensible that the monarch of a faction rules but one half of his subjects. It was his misfortune, and consequently that of the nation, that he was hemmed round by men who soured him with all their own interests and prejudices. The whigs, while they pretended to secure the crown for the king, were using all their art to confirm their own interests, extend their connections, and give laws to their sovereign. An instantaneous change was made in all the offices of trust, honour, or advantage. The names of the contending parties were changed into those of Hanoverians and Jacobites. The former governed the senate and court, oppressing whom they would, bound the lower orders of people by severe laws, and kept them at a distance by vile distinctions; and then taught them to call this liberty.

In consequence of these partialities, the highest discontent was raised through the whole kingdom. The tories or Jacobites railed the most terrible outrages; and had the pretender been a man of any judgment or abilities, a fair opportunity was now offered him of striking a decisive blow. Instead of this, he continued a calm spectator on the continent, and only sent over his emissaries to disperse inefficient manoeuvres and delude the unwary. In these papers he observed, that the late queen had intentions of calling him to the crown. He expostulated with his people upon the injustice they had done themselves in proclaiming a foreign prince for their sovereign, contrary to the laws of the country, that gave him alone the real claim. Copies of a printed address were sent to the dukes of Shrewsbury, Marlborough, Argyle, and other noblemen of the first distinction; vindicating his right to the crown, and complaining of the injustice of his people. Yet, though he still complained of their conduct, he never took any step to correct his own, or remove that obstacle by which his father had lost his throne. He still continued to profess the truest regard to the Catholic religion; and, instead of concealing his sentiments on that head, gloried in his principles.

But, however much the Popish religion was at that time hated in England, the principles of the dissenters were not in the least more agreeable to the generality. The tories affirmed, that, under a whig administration, hereby and impiously were daily gaining ground. The lower orders of the clergy joined in these complaints, and pointed out several tracts published in favour of Arianism and Socinianism. The ministry not only refused to punish the delinquents, but silenced the clergy themselves, and forbade their future disputations on these topics.—The parliament was now dissolved, and another called by a very extraordinary proclamation. In this the king complained of the evil designs of men disaffected to his succession; and of their having misrepresented his conduct and principles. He expressed his hope, that his subjects would send up to parliament the fittest persons to redress the present disorders. He intreated that they would elect such in particular as had expressed a firm attachment to the Protestant succession when it was in danger. In the election of this important parliament, uncommon vigour was exerted on both sides; but by dint of the monied interest that prevailed in corporations, and the activity of the military, a great majority of whigs was returned both in England and Scotland.

Upon the first meeting of this new parliament, the most violent measures were resolved upon against the late ministry. Part of them kept away from business. A committee was appointed to inspect all the papers relative to the late treaty, and to pick out such of them as might serve for grounds of accusation against the late ministry. The earl of Oxford was impeached of high treason, and sent to the Tower. The violence of the commons was answered with equal violence without doors. Tumults became every day more frequent, and every tumult served only to increase the severity of the legislature. They now passed an act, declaring, that if any persons to the number of 12, unlawfully assembled, should continue together one hour after being required to disperse by a justice of peace or other officer, and after hearing the act against riots read in public, they should be deemed guilty of felony without benefit of clergy. This is a very severe act, and one of the greatest restrictions on the liberty of the subject that has passed during this century; as by it, all meetings of the people, either for the purposes of amusement or redress, are rendered criminal, if it shall please any magistrate to consider them as such.

These vindictive proceedings excited the indignation of the people, who perceived that the avenues of royal favour were closed to all but a faction. A rebellion commenced in Scotland, where to their other grievances they joined that of the union, which they were taught to consider as an oppression. The malcontents of this country had all along maintained a correspondence with their friends in England, who were now driven by resentment and apprehension into a system of politics they would not otherwise have dreamed of. Some of the tory party, who were men attached to the Protestant religion, and of moderate principles in government, began to associate with the Jacobites, and to wish in earnest for a revolution. Scotland first showed them the example. The earl of Mar, assembling 300 of his Scottish vassals in the Highlands, proclaimed the pretender at Caffleton; and setting up his standard at Braemar, assumed the title of lieutenant-general of his majesty's forces. To second these attempts, two vessels arrived from France, with arms, ammunition, and a number of officers, together with assurances to the earl, that the pretender himself would shortly come over to head his own forces. In consequence of this promise, the earl soon found himself at the head of 10,000 men well armed and provided. He secured the pass of Tay at Perth, where his head-quarters were established; and made himself master of the whole province of Fife, and all the sea-coast on that side of the frith of Forth. He marched from thence to Dumblain, as if he had intended to cross the Forth at Stirling bridge; but there he was informed that the duke of Argyle, who on this occasion was appointed commander in chief of all the forces in North Britain, was advancing against him from Stirling with all his own clans, assisted by some troops from Ireland. Upon this, he thought proper at first to retreat; but being soon after joined by some of the clans under the earl of Seaforth, and others under general Gordon, Gordon, an experienced officer, who had signalized himself in the Russian service, he resolved to face the enemy, and directed his march towards the south.

The duke of Argyll, apprized of his intentions, and at any rate willing to prove his attachment to the present government, resolved to give him battle in the neighbourhood of Dumbarton, though his forces did not amount to half the number of the enemy. In the morning, therefore, he drew up his army, which did not exceed 3500 men, in order of battle; but he soon found himself greatly outflanked by the insurgents. The duke, therefore, perceiving the earl make attempts to surround him, was obliged to alter his disposition, which, on account of the scarcity of general officers, was not done so expeditiously as to be finished before the rebels began the attack. The left wing of the duke's army received the centre of the enemy, and supported the first charge without shrinking. It seemed even for a while victorious, and the earl of Clanranald was killed. But Glengarry, who was second in command, undertook to inspire his intimidated forces with courage; and, waving his bonnet, cried out several times, Revenge! This animated the rebel troops to such a degree, that they followed him close to the points of the enemies bayonets, and got within their guard. A total rout began to ensue of that wing of the royal army; and general Wetham, their commander, flying full speed to Stirling, gave out that the rebels were completely victorious. In the mean time, the duke of Argyll, who commanded in person on the right, attacked the left of the enemy; and, drove them before him two miles, though they often faced about and attempted to rally. Having thus entirely broken that wing, and driven them over the river Allen, he returned back to the field of battle; where, to his greatest mortification, he found the enemy victorious, and patiently waiting for the assault. However, instead of renewing the engagement, both armies continued to gaze at each other, neither caring to begin the attack. In the evening, both parties drew off, and both claimed the victory. All the advantages of a victory, however, belonged to Argyll. He had interrupted the progress of the enemy; and, in their circumstances, delay was defeat. In fact, the earl of Mar soon found his losses and disappointments increase. The castle of Inverness, of which he was in possession, was delivered up by lord Lovat, who had hitherto professed to act in the interest of the pretender. The marquis of Tullibardine forsook the earl, in order to defend his own part of the country; and many of the clans seeing no likelihood of coming to a second engagement, returned quietly home.

In the mean time, the rebellion was still more unsuccessfully prosecuted in England. From the time the pretender had undertaken this wild project at Paris, in which the duke of Ormond and lord Bolingbroke were engaged, lord Stair the English ambassador there had penetrated all his designs, and sent faithful accounts of all his measures and of all his adherents to the ministry at home. Upon the first rumour, therefore, of an insurrection, they imprisoned several lords and gentlemen, of whom they had a suspicion. But these precautions were not able to stop the insurrection in the western counties, where it was already begun. All their preparations, however, were weak and ill conducted; every measure was betrayed to government as soon as projected, and many revolts were repressed in the very outset. The university of Oxford was treated with great severity on this occasion. Major-general Pepper, with a strong detachment of dragoons, took possession of the city at day-break, declaring that he would instantly shoot any of the students who should presume to appear without the limits of their respective colleges.

The insurrection in the northern counties came to greater maturity. In the month of October 1715, the earl of Derwentwater, and Mr Forster, took the field with a body of horse, and, being joined by some gentlemen from the borders of Scotland, proclaimed the pretender. Their first attempt was to seize upon Newcastle, in which they had many friends; but finding the gates shut against them, they retired to Hexham. To oppose them, general Carpenter was detached by government with a body of 900 men, and an engagement was hourly expected. The rebels had two methods by which they might have conducted themselves with prudence and safety. The one was to march directly into the western parts of Scotland, and there join general Gordon, who commanded a strong body of Highlanders. The other was to cross the Tweed, and boldly attack general Carpenter, whose forces did not exceed their own. From the infatuation attendant on the measures of that party, neither of these counsels was pursued. They took the route to Jedburgh, where they hoped to leave Carpenter on one side, and penetrate into England by the western border. This was the effectual means to cut themselves off either from retreat or assistance. A party of Highlanders, who had joined them by this time, at first refused to accompany them in such a desperate incursion, and one half of them actually returned to their own country. At Brampton, Mr Forster opened his commission of general, which had been sent him by the earl of Mar, and there he proclaimed the pretender. They continued their march to Penrith, where the body of the militia that was assembled to oppose them fled at their appearance. From Penrith they proceeded by the way of Kendal and Lancaster to Preston, of which place they took possession without any resistance. But this was the last stage of their ill-advised excursion: for general Wills, at the head of 7000 men, came up to attack them; and from his activity there was no escaping. They now, therefore, began to raise barricades about the town, and to put the place in a posture of defence, repelling the first attacks of the royal army with success. Next day, however, Wills was reinforced by Carpenter, and the town was invested on all sides. In this deplorable situation, to which they were reduced by their own rashness, Forster hoped to capitulate with the general; and accordingly sent colonel Oxburgh, who had been taken prisoner, with a trumpeter to propose a capitulation. This, however, Wills refused; alleging that he would not treat with rebels, and that the only favour they had to expect was to be spared from immediate slaughter. These were hard terms, but no better could be obtained. They accordingly laid down their arms, and were put under a strong guard. All the noblemen and leaders were secured, and a few of their officers tried for deserting from the royal army, and shot by order of a court-martial. The common men were imprisoned at Chester. Chester and Liverpool; the noblemen and considerable officers were sent to London, and led through the streets pinioned and bound together, to intimidate their party.

Though the schemes of the pretender appear to have been foolishly enough conducted in Britain, yet they were much more so in France. Bolingbroke had been made his secretary at Paris, and Ormond his prime minister. But these statesmen quickly found that nothing could be done in favour of his cause. The king of France, who had ever espoused the interest of the abdicated family, was just dead; and the duke of Orleans, who succeeded in the government of the kingdom, was averse to lending the pretender any assistance. His party, however, which was composed of the lowest and the most ignorant exiles from the British dominions, affected the utmost confidence, and boasted of a certainty of success. The deepest secrets of his cabinet, and all his intended measures, were bandied about in coffee-houses by persons of the lowest rank both in fortune and abilities. Subaltern officers resolved to be his generals; and even prostitutes were entrusted to manage his negotiations. Little, therefore, could be expected from such assistants and such councils.

Though, by this time, the pretender might easily have seen that his affairs were desperate; yet, with his usual infatuation, he resolved to hazard his person among his friends in Scotland at a time when such a measure was too late for success. Paffing, therefore, through France in disguise, and embarking in a small vessel at Dunkirk, he arrived, after a voyage of a few days, on the coasts of Scotland, with only five gentlemen in his train. He passed unknown through Aberdeen to Fetterosse, where he was met by the earl of Mar, and about 30 noblemen and gentlemen of the first quality. There he was solemnly proclaimed; and his declaration, dated at Commercy, was printed and dispersed. He went from thence to Dundee, where he made a public entry; and in two days more he arrived at Scoon, where he intended to have the ceremony of his coronation performed. He ordered thanksgivings to be made for his safe arrival; he enjoined the ministers to pray for him in their churches; and without the smallest share of power, went through the ceremonies of royalty, which threw an air of ridicule on all his conduct. Having thus spent some time in unimportant parade, he resolved to abandon the enterprise with the same levity with which it was undertaken. Having made a speech to his grand council, he informed them of his want of money, arms, and ammunition, for undertaking a campaign, and therefore deplored that he was obliged to leave them. He once more embarked on board a small French ship that lay in the harbour of Montrose, accompanied with several lords, his adherents; and in five days arrived at Graveline.

General Gordon, who was left commander in chief of the forces, with the affiance of earl Marechal, proceeded at their head to Aberdeen, where he secured three vessels to sail northward, which took on board such persons as intended to make their escape to the continent. He then continued his march through the Highlands, and quietly dismissed his forces as he went forward. This retreat was made with such expedition, that the duke of Argyle, with all his activity, could never overtake his rear, which consisted of 1000 horse.

The rebellion being ended, the law was put in force with all its terrors; and the prisons of London were crowded with those deluded persons, whom the ministry seemed resolved not to pardon. The commons, in their address to the crown, declared they would prosecute, in the most rigorous manner, the authors of the late rebellion; and their measures were as vindictive as their resolutions were speedy. The earls of Derwentwater, Nithsdale, Carnwath, and Wintown, the lords Widrington, Kenmuir, and Nairne, were impeached; and, upon pleading guilty, all but lord Wintown, received sentence of death. No intreates could prevail upon the ministry to spare these unhappy men. The house of lords even presented an address to the throne for mercy, but without effect; the king only answered, that on this, as on all other occasions, he would act as he thought most consistent with the dignity of the crown and the safety of the people. Orders were accordingly dispatched for executing the lords Derwentwater, Nithsdale, and Kenmuir, immediately; the rest were reprieved to a farther time. Nithsdale, however, had the good fortune to escape in woman's clothes that were brought him by his mother the night before his execution. Derwentwater and Kenmuir were brought to the scaffold on Tower-hill at the time appointed. Both underwent their sentence with calm intrepidity, and seemingly less moved than those who beheld them.

An act of parliament was next made for trying the private prisoners in London, and not in Lancashire where they were taken in arms. This was considered, by some of the best lawyers, as an alteration of the ancient constitution of the kingdom, by which it was supposed, that every prisoner should be tried in the place where the offence was committed, as a jury of neighbours would be best qualified to enter into the nature of the offence. In the beginning of April, commissioners for trying the rebels met in the court of common pleas, when the bills were found against Mr Forster, Mr Macintosh, and 20 of their confederates. Forster escaped from Newgate, and reached the continent in safety; the rest pleaded not guilty. Pitts the keeper of Newgate, being suspected of having connived at Forster's escape, was tried for his life, but acquitted. After this, Macintosh, and several other prisoners, broke from Newgate, after having mastered the keeper and turnkey, and disarmed the centinel. The court proceeded to the trial of those that remained; four or five were hanged, drawn, and quartered, at Tyburn. The judges appointed to try the rebels at Liverpool found a considerable number of them guilty of high treason. Two-and-twenty were executed at Manchester and Preston; about 1000 experienced the king's mercy, if such it may be called, to be transported to North America.

The rebellion being thus extinguished, the danger Duration of the parliament lengthened. right to extend their duration to seven years, they might also perpetuate their authority; and thus cut off even the shadow of a nomination. The bill, however, passed both houses, and all objections to it were considered as disaffection. The people might murmur at this encroachment, but it was too late for redress.

Domestic concerns being thus adjusted, the king resolved upon a voyage to the continent. He foresaw a storm gathering from Sweden. Charles XII. highly provoked against him for having entered into a confederacy with the Russians and Danes during his absence at Bender, and for having purchased from the king of Denmark the towns of Bremen and Verden, which constituted a part of his dominions. In consequence of this, Charles maintained a close correspondence with the dissatisfied subjects of Great Britain; and a scheme was formed for landing a considerable body of Swedish forces, with the king at their head, in some part of the island, where it was expected they would be joined by all the malcontents in the kingdom. Count Gyllenburg, the Swedish minister in London, was peculiarly active in the conspiracy; but being seized, with all his papers, by order of the king, the confederacy was broke for that time. A bill, however, was passed by the commons, forbidding all commerce with Sweden; the trade with which country was at that time of the utmost consequence to the English merchants. George having passed through Holland to Hanover, in order to secure his German dominions, entered into a new treaty with the Dutch and the regent of France, by which they agreed mutually to assist each other in case of an invasion; and for his further security the commons granted him £250,000. But the death of the Swedish monarch, who was soon after killed at the siege of Frederichshall in Norway, put an end to all disquietude from that quarter.

Among the many treaties for which this reign was remarkable, one had been concluded, which was called the quadruple alliance. It was agreed between the emperor, France, Holland, and Britain, that the emperor should renounce all pretensions to the crown of Spain, and exchange Sardinia for Sicily with the duke of Savoy; that the succession to the duchies of Tuscany, Parma, and Placentia, should be settled on the queen of Spain's eldest son, in case the present possessors should die without male issue. This treaty, however, was by no means agreeable to the king of Spain; and consequently it became prejudicial to the English, as it interrupted the commerce with that kingdom. A war soon after commenced between Spain and the emperor, who was considered as the principal contriver of the treaty; and a numerous body of Spanish forces were sent into Italy to support Philip's pretensions in that quarter. The regent of France attempted in vain to dissuade him, and the king of Britain offered his mediation with the like bad success; their interposition was considered as partial and unjust. A Spanish war was then resolved on. A squadron of 22 ships was equipped with all expedition, the command of which was given to Sir George Byng, and ordered to sail for Naples, at that time threatened with a Spanish army. He was received with the greatest joy by the Neapolitans; who informed him that the Spaniards, to the amount of 30,000, were then actually landed in Sicily. In this exigence, as no assistance could be given by land, he resolved to sail thither, fully determined to pursue the Spanish fleet on which the army was embarked. Upon coming round Cape Faro, he perceived two small Spanish vessels; and pursuing them closely, they led him to their main fleet, which, before noon, he discovered in line of battle, amounting in all to 27 sail. The Spaniards, however, notwithstanding their superiority in number, attempted to sail away; but finding it impossible to make their escape, they kept up a running fight, and the commanders behaved with great courage and activity; in spite of which they were all taken, except three, which were preferred by the conduct of one Cammock, their vice-admiral, a native of Ireland. Sir George Byng behaved on this occasion with great prudence and resolution; and the king wrote him a letter with his own hand, approving his conduct.

The rupture with Spain was thought to be favourable to the interests of the pretender; and it was hoped that, by the assistance of cardinal Alberoni the Spanish minister, a new insurrection might be excited in England. The duke of Ormond was the person fixed upon to conduct this expedition; and he obtained from the Spanish court, a fleet of ten ships of war and transports, having on board 6000 regular troops, with arms for 12,000 more. But fortune was still as unfavourable as ever. Having set sail, and proceeded as far as Cape Finisterre, he was encountered by a violent storm, which disabled his fleet, and frustrated the expedition. This misfortune, together with the bad success of the Spanish arms in Sicily and other parts of Europe, induced Philip to wish for a cessation of arms; and he at last consented to sign the quadruple alliance, by which means peace was again restored to Europe.

Tranquillity being thus established, the ministry proceeded to secure the dependency of the Irish parliament on that of England. One Maurice Annesley had appealed to the house of peers of England from a decree made by the Irish peers, and their decree was reversed. The British peers ordered the barons of exchequer in Ireland to put Mr Annesley in possession of the lands he had lost by the decree of the lords in that kingdom. The barons obeyed this order; and the Irish peers passed a vote against them, as having attempted to diminish the just privileges of the parliament of Ireland; and at the same time ordered the barons to be taken under the custody of the black rod. On the other hand, the house of lords in England resolved, that the barons of the exchequer in Ireland had acted with courage and fidelity; and addressed the king to signify his approbation of their conduct, by some marks of his favour. To complete their intention, a bill was prepared, by which the Irish house of lords was deprived of all right of final jurisdiction. This bill was opposed in both houses, but particularly by the commons. It was there asserted by Mr Pitt, that it would only increase the power of the English peers, who were already but too formidable. Mr Hungerford demonstrated, that the Irish lords had always exerted their power of finally deciding causes. Notwithstanding all opposition, the bill was carried by a great majority, and soon after received the royal assent.

This blow was severely felt by the Irish; but was by no means so great as that which the English about this time felt from the South-sea scheme, which commenced menced in the year 1721. To explain this as concisely as possible, it must be observed, that, ever since the revolution under king William, the government not having sufficient supplies granted by parliament, or what was granted requiring time to be collected, they were obliged to borrow money from several different companies of merchants; and, among the rest, from that company which traded to the South-sea. In the year 1716, the government was indebted to this company about nine millions and an half of money; for which they granted at the rate of 6 per cent. interest. As this company was not the only one to which government was indebted, Sir Robert Walpole formed a design of lessening the national debts, giving the several companies an alternative either of accepting a lower interest, namely 5 per cent. or of being paid the principal. The different companies chose rather to accept of the diminished interest, than to be paid the principal. The South-sea company, in particular, having augmented their loan to ten millions, were contented to receive 500,000l. annually as interest, instead of 600,000l. which they usually received. In the same manner, the governors and company of the bank, and other companies, were contented to receive a diminished annual interest for their respective loans; all which greatly lessened the debts of the nation.

In this situation of things, one Blount a fervent proponent of the ministry, in the name of the South-sea company, to buy up all the debts of the different companies, and thus for the South-sea company to become the sole creditors of the state. The terms he offered to government were extremely advantageous. The South-sea company was to redeem the debts of the nation out of the hands of the private proprietors who were creditors to the government, upon whatever terms they could agree on; and for the interest of this money which they had thus redeemed and taken into their own hands, they would be contented to be allowed by government 5 per cent for five years; after which the interest should be reduced to 4 per cent., and should at any time be redeemable by parliament. For these purposes a bill passed both houses. But now came the part of the scheme big with fraud and ruin. As the directors of the South-sea company could not of themselves be supposed to possess so much money as was sufficient to buy up the debts of the nation, they were empowered to raise it by opening a subscription to an imaginary scheme for trading in the South seas; from which commerce immense advantages were promised, and still greater expected by the rapacious credulity of the people. All the creditors of government, therefore, were invited to come in, and exchange their securities, viz. the security of government, for that of the South-sea company. The directors books were no sooner opened for the first subscription, but crowds came to make the exchange of government stock for South-sea stock. The delusion was artfully continued and spread. Subscriptions in a few days sold for double the price they had been bought at. The scheme succeeded beyond even the projector's hopes, and the whole nation was infected with a spirit of avaricious enterprise. The infatuation prevailed; the stock increased to a surprising degree, even to near ten times the value of what it was first bought for.

After a few months, however, the people waked from their dream of riches; and found that all the advantages they expected were merely imaginary, while thousands of families were involved in one common ruin. Many of the directors, by whose arts the people were taught to expect such great benefits from a traffic to the South seas, had amassed considerable fortunes by the credulity of the public. It was some consolation, however, to the people to find the parliament sharing in the general indignation, and resolving to strip those unjust plunderers of their possessions. Orders were first given to remove all the directors of the South-sea company from their seats in parliament, and the places they possessed under government. The principal delinquents were punished by a forfeiture of all such possessions and estates as they had acquired during the continuance of this popular frenzy. The next care was to redress the sufferers. Several just and useful resolutions were taken by parliament, and a bill was speedily prepared for repairing the late sufferings as far as the inspection of the legislature could extend. Of the profits arising from the South-sea scheme, the sum of seven millions were given back to the original proprietors; several additions were also made to their dividends out of what was possessed by the company in their own right; and the remaining capital stock was also divided among the old proprietors at the rate of 33 per cent.—In the mean time, petitions from all parts of the kingdom were presented to the house, demanding justice; and the whole nation seemed exasperated to the highest degree. Public credit sustained a terrible shock. Some principal members of the ministry were deeply concerned in these fraudulent transactions. The bank was drawn upon faster than it could supply; and nothing was heard but the ravings of disappointment, and the cries of despair.

By degrees, however, the effects of this terrible calamity wore off, and matters returned to their former tranquillity. A new war with Spain commenced. Admiral Hofer was sent to South America to intercept the Spanish galleons; but the Spaniards, being apprised of his design, relented their treasure. The greatest part of the British fleet sent on that expedition was rendered entirely unfit for service. The seamen were cut off in great numbers by the malignity of the climate and the length of the voyage, while the admiral himself is said to have died of a broken heart. In order to retaliate these hostilities, the Spaniards undertook the siege of Gibraltar; but with as little success on their side. In this dispute France offered her mediation; and such a reconciliation as treaties could procure was the consequence: a temporary peace ensued; both sides only watching an opportunity to renew hostilities with advantage.

Soon after the breaking up of the parliament in the year 1727, the king resolved to visit his electoral dominions of Hanover. Having appointed a regency in his absence, he embarked for Holland, and lay, upon his landing, at a little town called Voest. Next day he proceeded on his journey; and in two days more, between ten and eleven at night, arrived at Delden, to all appearance in perfect health. He supped there very heartily, and continued his journey early the next morning; but between eight and nine ordered his coach to stop. It being perceived that one of his hands lay motionless, monsieur Fabrice, who had formerly been servant to the king of Sweden, and who now attended king... king George, attempted to quicken the circulation, by chaining it between his own. As this had no effect, the surgeon who followed on horseback was called, and he rubbed it with spirits. Soon after, the king's tongue began to swell, and he had just strength enough to bid them halten to Osnaburgh. Then, falling insensible into Fabrice's arms, he never recovered; but expired about 11 o'clock the next morning, in the 68th year of his age, and 13th of his reign. His body was conveyed to Hanover, and interred among his ancestors.

On the accession of George II, the two great parties into which the nation had so long been divided, again changed their names, and were now called the court and country parties. Throughout the greatest part of this reign, there seem to have been two objects of controversy, which rose up in debate at every session, and tried the strength of the opponents; these were the national debt, and the number of forces to be kept in pay. The government on the present king's accession owed more than 30,000,000 of money; and tho' there was a long continuance of profound peace, yet this sum was found constantly increasing. It was much wondered at by the country party how this could happen, and it was as constantly the business of the court to give plausible reasons for the increase. Thus, demands for new supplies were made every session of parliament, either for the purpose of securing friends upon the continent, or guarding the kingdom from internal conspiracies, or of enabling the ministry to act vigorously in conjunction with the powers in alliance abroad. It was vainly alleged that those expenses were incurred without preference or necessity; and that the increase of the national debt, by multiplying and increasing taxes, would at last become an intolerable burden to the poor. These arguments were offered, canvassed, and rejected; the court party was constantly victorious, and every demand was granted with cheerfulness and profusion.

The next thing worthy of notice in the reign of George II, is the charitable corporation. A society of men had united themselves into a company by this name; and their professed intention was to lend money at legal interest to the poor upon small pledges, and to persons of higher rank upon proper security. Their capital was at first limited to 30,000l., but they afterwards increased it to 600,000l. This money was supplied by subscription, and the care of conducting the capital was intrusted to a proper number of directors. This company having continued for more than 20 years, the cashier, George Robinson, member for Marlow, and the warehouse-keeper, John Thompson, disappeared in one day. Five hundred thousand pounds of capital were found to be sunk or embezzled by means which the proprietors could not discover. They, therefore, in a petition, represented to the house the manner in which they had been defrauded, and the distresses to which many of the petitioners were reduced. A secret committee being appointed to examine into this grievance, a most iniquitous scene of fraud was soon discovered, which had been carried on by Thompson and Robinson, in concert with some of the directors, for embezzling the capital and cheating the proprietors. Many persons of rank and quality were concerned in this infamous conspiracy; and even some of the first characters in the nation did not escape censure. No less than six members of parliament were expelled for the most forlorn acts of knavery. Sir Robert Sutton, Sir Archibald Grant, and George Robinson, for their frauds in the management of the charitable corporation scheme; Dennis Bond, and sergeant Burch, for a fraudulent sale of the late unfortunate earl of Derwentwater's estate; and lastly, John Ward, of Hackney, for forgery. It was at this time asserted in the house of lords, that not one shilling of the forfeited estates was ever applied to the service of the public, but became the reward of fraudulence and venality.

This happened in the year 1731; and in 1732, a scheme was formed by Sir Robert Walpole of fixing scheme re- a general excise. He introduced it by recounting the frauds practised by the factors in London that were employed in selling the American tobacco. To prevent these frauds, he proposed, that instead of having the customs levied in the usual manner upon tobacco, all hereafter to be imported should be lodged in warehouses appointed for that purpose by the officers of the crown; and should from thence be sold, upon paying the duty of 4d. per pound, when the proprietor found a purchaser. This proposal raised a violent ferment, both within doors and without. At last, the fury of the people was worked up to such a pitch, that the parliament-house was surrounded by multitudes, who intimidated the ministry, and compelled them to drop the design. The miscarriage of the bill was celebrated with public rejoicings in London and Westminster, and the minister was burned in effigy by the populace at London.

On this occasion an attempt was made to repeal the septennial bill, and bring back triennial parliaments, as settled at the Revolution. But notwithstanding the warmth of the opposition, the ministry, exerting all their strength, were victorious, and the motion was suppressed by the majority. However, as on this occasion Parliament the country party seemed to have gained strength, it was thought proper to dissolve the parliament; and another was called by the same proclamation.

The same disputes were carried on in this parliament as in the former. New subjects of controversy offered every day, and both sides were eager to seize them. A convention agreed on by the ministry, at the Prado, with Spain, became an object of warm altercation. By this the court of Spain agreed to pay 95,000l. to the English, as a satisfaction for all demands; and to discharge the whole in four months from the day of ratification. This, however, was considered as no equivalent to the damages that had been sustained, which were said to amount to 340,000l. On this occasion the minister was provoked into unusual vehemence, and branded the opposite party with the appellation of traitors. The ministry, as usual, were victorious; and the country party finding themselves out-numbered and out-voted in every debate, resolved to withdraw for ever: Walpole, being thus left without opposition, took the opportunity of passing several useful laws in their absence, in order to render the opposite party odious or contemptible.

In 1739, a new war commenced with Spain. Ever since the treaty of Utrecht, the Spaniards in America had insulted and distressed the commerce of Great Britain; and the British merchants had endeavoured to carry on an illicit trade in their dominions. As a right of cutting logwood in the bay of Campeachy, claimed by the British, gave them frequent opportunities ties of pushing in contraband commodities upon the continent, the Spaniards resolved to put a stop to the evil by refusing liberty to cut logwood in that place.

The Spanish guardia-civil continued their severities upon the British, and many British subjects were sent to dig in the mines of Porto Bello. One remonstrance followed another to the court of Madrid; but the only answers given were promises of inquiry, which produced no reformation. In 1739, war was declared with all proper solemnity; and soon after, admiral Vernon, with six ships only, destroyed all the fortifications of Porto Bello, and came away victorious, with scarce the loss of a man.

As the war was thus successfully begun, supplies were cheerfully granted to prosecute it with all imaginable vigour. Commodore Anson was sent with a squadron of ships to distress the enemy in the South Seas, and to co-operate occasionally with admiral Vernon across the isthmus of Darien. This squadron was designed to act a subordinate part to a formidable armament that was to be sent against New Spain; but through the mismanagement of the ministry both these schemes were frustrated. Anson was detained till too late in the season; he then set out with five ships of the line, a frigate, and two flareships, with about 1400 men. Coming into the stormy South Seas at a very wrong season of the year, he encountered the most terrible storms; his fleet was dispersed, and his crew deplorably afflicted with the fever; so that with much difficulty he gained the delightful island of Juan Fernandez. Here he was joined by one ship and a frigate of seven guns. From thence failing along the coast of Chili, he plundered and burnt the town of Paita. He next traversed the great Pacific ocean, in hopes of meeting with one of the immensely rich galleons that trade from the Philippine Islands to Mexico. Having refreshed his men at the island of Timan, he set forward for China; and returning the same way he came, at last discovered the galleon. Her he engaged, and took; and with this prize, valued at £13,000, together with other captures to the value of about as much more, he returned home after a voyage of three years. By this expedition the public sustained the loss of a fine squadron of ships, but a few individuals became possessed of immense fortunes.

The other expedition ended still more unfortunately. The armament consisted of 29 ships of the line, and almost an equal number of frigates, furnished with all kinds of warlike stores, near 15,000 seamen, and as many land forces. The most sanguine hopes of success were entertained; but the ministry detained the fleet without any visible reason, till the season for action in America was almost over. At last, however, they arrived before the wealthy city of Cartagena. They soon became masters of the strong forts which defended the harbour. But though by this means they advanced a good deal nearer the town, they found great difficulties still before them. It was asserted, that the fleet could not lie near enough to batter the town, and therefore the remaining forts must be attempted by escalade. This dangerous experiment was tried; the guides were slain by the enemies fire, and then the forces mistook their way. Instead of attempting the weakest place of the forts, they attacked the strongest, and where they were exposed to the fire of the whole town. Their scaling ladders were too short; and, at last, after bearing a dreadful fire with great resolution for some hours, they retreated, leaving 600 men dead on the spot. The terrors of the climate now began to be more dreadful than those of war. The rainy season commenced with such violence, that it was impossible for the troops to continue their encampment. To these calamities was added the difference between the sea and land commanders, who blamed each other, and at last could be only brought to agree in one mortifying measure, viz., to re-imbarke the troops, and withdraw them as quick as possible.

The miscarriage of this enterprise produced the greatest discontent; especially as other causes of complaint were now joined with it. Sir John Norris had twice failed to the coasts of Spain at the head of a very powerful squadron, without doing anything to the purpose. The commerce of Britain was greatly annoyed by the Spanish privateers, who had taken 407 ships since the commencement of the war; while the British fleets seemed to be quite inactive, and to suffer one loss after another, without endeavouring in the least to make proper reprisals. These discontented burst all at once upon Sir Robert Walpole; a majority in the house of commons was formed against him; he was created earl of Orford, the parliament being adjourned for a few days for that purpose; and he resigned all his employments.

The removal of this minister gave universal satisfaction. His antagonists entertained great hopes of seeing him punished; but he had laid his schemes too well to be under any apprehensions on that account; and what was worse, the new ministry were no sooner got in, than they trod in the footsteps of those they had so much exclaimed against. The nation had now become disgusted with naval operations. The people wished for a renewal of their victories in Flanders, and the king ardently joined in the same wish. An army of 16,000 men was therefore shipped over into Flanders, to take part in the quarrels that were then beginning on the continent. Immense triumphs were expected from this undertaking; but they forgot that the army was not now commanded by the duke of Marlborough.

In order to give some notion of the origin of these continental quarrels, it is necessary to go back for some years. After the duke of Orleans, who had been regent of France, died, cardinal Fleury undertook to settle the confusion in which the kingdom was then involved. Under him France repaired her losses, and enriched herself by commerce. During the long interval of peace which this minister's councils had procured for Europe, two powers, till now unregarded, began to attract the notice and jealousy of the neighbouring nations. These were Russia and Prussia. The other states were but little prepared to renew war. The empire remained under the government of Charles VI, who had been placed on the throne by the treaty of Utrecht. Sweden continued to languish from the destructive projects of Charles XII. Denmark was powerful enough, but inclined to peace; and part of Italy still remained subject to those princes who had been imposed upon it by foreign treaties.

All these states, however, continued to enjoy a profound peace, until the death of Augustus king of Poland, by which a general flame was once more kindled in Europe. The emperor, assisted by the arms of Rus- In the mean time, the British and Hanoverian army advanced, in order to effect a junction with that of prince Charles of Lorraine, in which case they would have outnumbered their enemies. To prevent this, the French opposed an army of 60,000 men, under the command of the marshal de Noailles, who posted his troops on the east side of that river. The British army was commanded by the earl of Stair, who had learned the art of war under the great prince Eugene; nevertheless, he suffered himself to be inclosed by the enemy on every side, near a village called Dettingen. In this situation, the whole army, with the king himself, who had by this time arrived in the camp, must have been taken, had the French behaved with prudence. Their impetuosity, however, saved the whole army. They passed a defile, which they ought to have contented themselves with guarding; and, under the conduct of the duke of Gramont, their horse charged the British foot with great fury. They were received with great resolution; and at last obliged to repulse the Mayne with precipitation, and the loss of about 5000 men.

Though the British were victorious in this engagement, the French were very little disconcerted by it. They opposed prince Charles, and interrupted his attempts to pass the Rhine. In Italy they also gained some advantages; but their chief hopes were placed on an intended invasion of England. From the violence of parliamentary disputes in England, France had been persuaded that the country was ripe for a revolution, and only wanted the pretence of the pretender to bring about a change. An invasion was therefore actually projected. The troops destined for the expedition amounted to 15,000; and preparations were made for embarking them at Dunkirk, and some of the ports nearest to England, under the eye of the young pretender. The duke de Roquefeuille, with 20 ships of the line, was to see them safely landed on the opposite shore, and the famous count Saxe was to command them when landed. But the whole project was disconcerted by the appearance of Sir John Norris, who with a superior fleet made up to attack them. The French fleet was obliged to put back; a very hard gale of wind damaged their transports beyond repair; and the French, now frustrated in their scheme of a sudden descent, thought fit openly to declare war.

The national joy for Sir John Norris's success, however, was soon damped by the miscarriage of admirals Matthews and Leftock; who, thro' a misunderstanding between themselves, suffered a French fleet of 34 sail to escape them near Toulon. In the Netherlands the British arms were attended with still worse success. The French had there assembled an army of 120,000 men, commanded by count Saxe, natural son to the late king of Poland, an officer of great experience. The English were headed by the duke of Cumberland, who had an inferior army, and was much inferior in the knowledge of war to the French general. Count Saxe, therefore, carried all before him. In 1743, he besieged Fribourg; and in the beginning of the campaign 1744, invested the strong city of Tournay. To save this place, if possible, the allies resolved to hazard an engagement; and on this ensued the bloody battle of Fontenoy, in which the allies left on the field of battle near 12,000 men, and the French almost an equal number. In consequence of this victory, Tournay was soon after taken by the French. To balance this bad success, however, admirals Rowley and Warren had retrieved the honour of the British flag, and made several rich captures at sea. The fortress of Louisburg, a place of great consequence to the British commerce, surrendered to general Pepperell; while, a short time after, two French East-India ships, and a Spanish ship from Peru laden with treasure, put into the harbour, supposing it still their own, and were taken.

During this gleam of returning success, Charles Edward, the son of the old pretender to the British crown, resolved to make an attempt to recover what he called his right. Being furnished with some money from France, he embarked for Scotland aboard a small frigate, accompanied by the marquis of Tullibardine, Sir Thomas Sheridan, and some others; and for the conquest of the whole British empire only brought with him seven officers, and arms for 2000 men.

Fortune, however, seemed no way more favourable to this attempt, than to others similar to it. His convoy, a ship of 60 guns, was so disabled in an engagement with an English man of war, that it was obliged to return to Brest, while he continued his course to the western parts of Scotland. On the 27th of July 1745, he landed on the coast of Lochaber, and was in a little time joined by the Highlanders, to the number of 1500: the ministry at first could scarcely be induced to credit his arrival; but when they could no longer doubt of it, they sent Sir John Cope with a small body of forces to oppose his progress.

By this time the young adventurer was arrived at Perth, where he performed the ceremony of proclaiming his father king of Great Britain. From thence, defending towards Edinburgh, and his forces continually increasing, he entered the capital without opposition; but was unable, for want of cannon, to reduce the castle. Here he again proclaimed his father; and promised to dissolve the union, which was considered as one of the national grievances. In the mean time, Sir John Cope being reinforced by two regiments of dragoons, resolved to give the enemy battle. The rebels attacked him near Prestonpans, and in a few minutes put him and his troops to flight, with the loss of 500 men.

This victory gave the rebels great influence; and had the pretender marched directly to England, the consequence might have been fatal to freedom. But he was amused by the promise of succours which never came; and thus induced to remain in Edinburgh till the season for action was lost. He was joined, however, by the earl of Kilmarnock, lord Balmerino, lords Cromarty, Elcho, Ogilvy, Pittligo, and the eldest son of lord Lovat, who with their vassals considerably increased his army. Lord Lovat himself, so remarkable for his treachery, was an enthusiast in favour of the pretender, but was unwilling to act openly for fear of the ministry. But while Charles was thus trifling away his time at Edinburgh, the British ministry were taking effectual methods to oppose him. Six thousand Dutch troops, that had come over to the assistance of the crown, were dispatched northward under the command of general Wade; but, as it was then said, they could lend no assistance, being prisoners of France upon their parole, and under engagements not to oppose that power for a year. But however this be, the duke of Cumberland soon after arrived from Flanders, and was followed by another detachment of dragoons and infantry, well disciplined and inured to action; and besides these, volunteers offered themselves in every part of the kingdom.

At last, Charles resolved upon an irruption into England. He entered that country by the western border, and took the town of Carlisle; after which he continued his march southwards, having received assurances that a considerable body of forces would be landed on the southern coasts to make a diversion in his favour. He established his head-quarters at Manchester, where he was joined by about 200 English formed into a regiment, under the command of colonel Townley. From thence he pursued his march to Derby, intending to go by the way of Chester into Wales, where he hoped to be joined by a great number of malcontents; but in this he was prevented by the factions among his followers.

Being now advanced within 100 miles of London, Great concern was felt at the utmost consternation; and had it proceeded with the same expedition he had hitherto used, perhaps he might have made himself master of it. But he was rendered incapable of pursuing this, or any other rational plan, by the discontent which began to prevail in his army. In fact, the young pretender was but the nominal leader of his forces; his generals, the Highland chiefs, being averse to subordination, and ignorant of command. They were now unanimous in their resolution to return to their own country, and resolve to return. Charles was forced to comply. They retreated to Carlisle without any loss; and from thence crossing the rivers Eden and Solway, entered Scotland. They next marched to Glasgow, which was laid under severe contributions. From thence advancing to Stirling, they were joined by lord Lewis Gordon at the head of some forces which had been assembled in his absence. Other clans likewise came in; and from some supplies of money received from Spain, and some skirmishes with the royalists, in which he was victorious, the pretender's affairs began to wear a more promising aspect. Being joined by lord Drummond, he invested the castle of Stirling, in the siege of which much time was consumed to no purpose. General Hawley, who commanded a considerable body of forces near Edinburgh, undertook to raise this siege, and advanced towards the rebel army as far as Falkirk. After two days spent in mutually examining each other's strength, an engagement ensued, in which the king's forces were entirely defeated, with the loss of their tents and artillery.

This was the end of all the triumphs of the rebel army. The duke of Cumberland having arrived, was put at the head of the troops at Edinburgh, which amounted to about 14,000 men. With these he advanced to Aberdeen, where he was joined by several of the nobility attached to the house of Hanover; the enemy in the mean time retreating before him. He next advanced to the banks of the Spey, a deep and rapid river, where the rebels might have disputed his passage; but their contentions with one another were now risen to such a height, that they could scarce agree in anything. At last they resolved to wait their pursuers. An engagement ensued at Culloden near Inverness; in which the rebels were defeated with great slaughter, and a final end was put to all the hopes... of the young adventurer. The conquerors behaved with the greatest cruelty; refusing quarter to the wounded, the unarmed, and the defenceless; some were slain who had only been spectators of the combat, and soldiers were seen to anticipate the safe employment of the executioner. The duke, immediately after the action, ordered 36 deserters to be executed: the conquerors spread terror wherever they came; and after a short space, the whole country round was one dreadful scene of plunder, slaughter, and desolation.

Immediately after the engagement, the young pretender fled away with a captain of Fitzjames's cavalry; and when their horses were fatigued, they both alighted, and separately fought for safety. There is a striking resemblance between the adventures of Charles II., after the battle of Worcester, and those of the young pretender after the battle of Culloden. For some days he wandered in the country. Sometimes he found refuge in caves and cottages, without any attendants at all. Sometimes he lay in forests with one or two companions of his distress, continually pursued by the troops of the conqueror, there being a reward of 30,000l. offered for taking him either dead or alive. In the course of his adventures, he had occasion to trust his life to the fidelity of above 50 individuals; not one of whom could be prevailed upon by so great a reward as was offered, to betray him whom they looked upon to be their king's son.

For six months the unfortunate Charles continued to wander in the frightful wilds of Glengarry, often hemmed round by his pursuers, but still refused by some providential accident from the impending danger. At length, a privateer of St Maloës, hired by his adherents, arrived in Lochnanach, in which he embarked in the most wretched attire. He was clad in a short coat of black frize, threadbare; over which was a common Highland plaid, girt round him by a belt, from which hung a pistol and dagger. He had not been shifted for many weeks; his eyes were hollow, his visage wan, and his constitution greatly impaired by famine and fatigue. He was accompanied by Sullivan and Sheridan, two Irish adherents who had shared all his calamities; together with Cameron of Lochiel, his brother, and a few other exiles. They set sail for France; and, after having been chased by two Englishmen of war, arrived in safety at a place called Rofeau near Morlaix in Bretagne.

While the pretender was thus pursued, the scaffold and gibbets were preparing for his adherents. Seventeen officers were hanged, drawn, and quartered, at Kennington-common in the neighbourhood of London; nine were executed in the same manner at Carlisle; and eleven at York. A few obtained pardons, and a considerable number of the common men were transported to America. The earls of Kilmarnock and Cromarty, and lord Balmerino, were tried and found guilty of high treason. Cromarty was pardoned; but Kilmarnock and Balmerino were executed; as was also Mr Radcliffe brother to the late earl of Derwentwater, who was sentenced upon a former conviction. Lord Lovat was tried, and suffered some time after.

Immediately after the suppression of the rebellion, the legislature undertook to establish several regulations in Scotland, which were equally conducive to the happiness of the people; and the tranquillity of the united kingdoms. The Highlanders had till that time continued to wear the military dress of their ancestors, and never went without arms. In consequence of this, they considered themselves as a body of people distinct from the rest of the nation, and were ready, upon the shortest notice, to second the insurrections of their chiefs. Their habits were now reformed by an act of legislature, and they were compelled to wear clothes of the common fashion. But what contributed still more to their real felicity was the abolition of that hereditary jurisdiction which their chieftains exerted over them. The power of their chieftains was totally destroyed, and every subject in that part of the kingdom was granted a participation in the common liberty.

Soon after the battle of Culloden, the duke of Cumberland returned to Flanders, where he resumed the command of an army to which he was by no means equal. The French carried everything before them; and they reduced under their dominion all those strong towns which had been taken by the duke of Marlborough, and formed a barrier to the United Provinces. They gained a considerable victory at Boucroux; which, however, cost them as many men as they destroyed of the enemy; but these they could more easily spare, as they were much more numerous. Another victory which they obtained at La Feldt, served to depress the allied army still lower. But the taking of Bergen-op-zoom, the strongest fortification of Brabant, reduced the Dutch to a state of desperation.

These victories and successes in Flanders were, however, counterbalanced by almost equal disappointments. In Italy, the marshal Belleisle's brother, attempting to penetrate, at the head of 34,000 men, into Piedmont, was defeated and killed. A fleet was fitted out for the recovery of Cape Breton, but without success. Two others were fitted out, the one to make a descent upon the British colonies in America, and the other to carry on the operations in the East Indies; but these were attacked by Anson and Warren, and nine of their ships taken. Soon after this, commodore Fox, with six ships of war, took above 40 French ships richly laden, from St Domingo; and soon after this the French fleet was defeated by admiral Hawke, who took seven ships of the line, and several frigates.

For a long time Lewis had been desirous of a general tranquillity; and this desire he had even expressed to Sir John Ligonier, who was taken prisoner at the battle of La Feldt. But now the bad success of his admirals at sea, his armies in Italy, the frequent bankruptcies of his merchants at home, and the election of a stadtholder in Holland who gave spirit to the opposition; all these contributed to make him weary of the war, and to propose terms of accommodation. This was what the allies had long wished for, but had been ashamed to demand. A congress, therefore, was held at Aix-la-Chapelle, where a treaty was concluded on the following terms. 1. That all prisoners on each side should be mutually given up, and all conquests restored. 2. That the duchies of Parma, Placentia, and Guadalajara, should be ceded to Don Philip, heir apparent to the Spanish crown; after whom these dominions should return to the house of Austria. 3. That the fortifications of Dunkirk towards the sea should be demolished; and that the British ship annually sent with slaves to the coast of New Spain, should have this privilege continued for for four years. 4. That the king of Prussia should be confirmed in the possession of Silesea, and that the queen of Hungary should be secured in the possession of her patrimonial dominions. But the most mortifying clause was, that the king of Great Britain should immediately, after the ratification of this treaty, send two persons of rank to France as hostages, until restitution should be made of Cape Breton and all other British conquests made during the war. No mention was made of the searching British vessels in the American seas, tho' this was the original cause of the quarrel. The limits of their respective possessions in North America were not ascertained; nor did they receive any equivalent for those forts which they restored to the enemy.

In the year 1751, died Frederic prince of Wales, of a pleurisy thought at first to be no way dangerous. He was greatly regretted; for his good-nature had rendered him popular, and those who opposed the present administration had grounded all their hopes of redress upon his accession to the throne.

Some time before this, viz. in the year 1749, a scheme was entered upon, which the nation in general imagined would be very advantageous. This was the encouraging those who had been discharged the army or navy to become settlers in Nova Scotia. This country is cold, barren, and almost incapable of cultivation. Nevertheless, on account of this barren spot, the English and French renewed the war, which soon after spread with such terrible devastation over every part of the globe. The possession of this country was reckoned necessary to defend the English colonies to the north, and to preserve their superiority in the fisheries in that part of the world. The French, however, who had been long settled in the back parts, resolved to use every method to dispossess the new comers, and spirited up the Indians to begin hostilities. Another source of dispute also sprung up soon after in the same part of the world. The French, pretending to have first discovered the mouth of the river Mississippi, claimed the whole adjacent country towards New Mexico on the east, quite to the Appalachian mountains on the west. In order to assert their claims, as they found several English who had settled beyond these mountains, they dispossessed them of their new settlements, and built such forts as would command the whole country round about.

Negotiations, mutual accusations, and hostilities, first took place between the two powers; at length, in 1756, four operations were undertaken by the British in America at once. Colonel Monkton had orders to drive the French from their encroachments upon the province of Nova Scotia. General Johnson was sent against Crown Point; General Shirley against Niagara, to secure the forts on the river; and General Braddock against Fort du Quecne. In these expeditions, Monkton was successful; Johnson also was victorious, though he failed in taking the fort against which he was sent; Shirley was thought to have lost the season of operation by delay; and Braddock was defeated and killed.

In return for this bad success, the British made reprisals at sea; and in this they were so successful, that the French navy was unable to recover itself during the continuance of the war that was shortly after declared on both sides. The first step of the French was to threaten an invasion. Several bodies of their troops were sent down to the coasts that lay opposite to the British shores; these were instructed in the manner of embarking and relanding from flat-bottomed boats, which were made in great numbers for that expedition. The number of men amounted to 50,000; but all discovered the utmost reluctance to the undertaking. The ministry were greatly alarmed. They applied to the Dutch for 6000 men, which they were by treaty obliged to furnish in case of an invasion. This supply was refused; the Dutch alleging, that their treaty was to send the troops in case of an actual, and not a threatened, invasion. The king, therefore, finding he could not have the Dutch forces till their assistance would be too late, desisted entirely from his demand; and the Dutch with great amity returned him thanks for withdrawing his request. Upon this, 10,000 Hessians and Hanoverians were brought over. But this occasioned great discontent. The ministry were reviled for such disgraceful condescension, as if the nation was unable to defend itself. The people only demanded a vigorous exertion of their own internal strength, and then feared no force that could be led to invade them.

The British invasion, however, never took place: but Minorca in a French army landed in Minorca, and invested the citadel of St Philip's, which was reckoned the strongest in Europe; but the garrison was weak, and no way fitted to stand a vigorous siege. To raise this siege, admiral Byng was dispatched with a squadron of ten men of war, with orders to relieve Minorca, or at any rate to throw a body of troops into the garrison. This last he reckoned too hazardous an undertaking; nor did he even attempt it. Soon after, a French fleet appeared nearly equal in force to his own; but the admiral resolved to act only upon the defensive. The French advanced; a flight engagement ensued with part of the English fleet; after which, the French slowly sailed away, and another opportunity never occurred of coming to a closer engagement. After this, it was resolved in a council of war to return to Gibraltar to rest, and that the relief of Minorca was impracticable. For this conduct Byng was brought home under arrest, tried, and sentenced to death. His sentence was to be shot; and he suffered with the greatest resolution, after delivering a paper filled with protestations of his innocence as to any treacherous intention.

After the conquest of Minorca, the French declared that they would revenge all injuries they should sustain in their colonies on the king of Britain's dominions in Germany. Upon this, the court of London, eager to Treaty with preserve Hanover, entered into a treaty with the court of Russia, by which it was stipulated, that a body of 50,000 Russians should be ready to act in the British service, in case Hanover should be invaded by the French. For this the czarina was to receive 100,000l. annually, to be paid in advance. This treaty was opposed by the king of Prussia. He had long considered himself as guardian of the interests of Germany, and was therefore alarmed at a treaty which threatened to deluge the empire with an army of barbarians. Besides, he was already apprized of an agreement between the Austrians and Russians, by which the latter were to enter the empire and strip him of his late conquest of Silesea. He Opposed by therefore declared, that he would not suffer any foreign forces to enter the empire, either as auxiliaries or principals. The king of Britain now found himself obliged to drop his Russian connection, and conclude a treaty with the king of Prussia. As both monarchs wished only to prevent the invasion of Germany, they soon came to an agreement to assist each other mutually.

From this alliance a new combination took place among the European powers, quite opposite to the former; and their forces were drawn out in the following manner. Britain opposed France in America, Asia, and on the ocean. France attacked Hanover; which the king of Prussia undertook to protect, while Britain promised him troops and money to assist his operations. Austria had their aims on the dominions of Prussia, and drew the elector of Saxony into the same designs. In these views the Austrians were seconded by France, Sweden, and Russia, who had hopes of acquiring a settlement in the west of Europe.

Thus the king of Prussia launched into the tumult of war, having only the king of Britain for his ally, while the most potent states of Europe were his antagonists. He now performed exploits perhaps unequalled in the annals of modern ages; for a particular account of which, see the article PRUSSIA. The British ministry, in order to procure a diversion in his favour, planned an enterprise against the coast of France. The destination of the fleet equipped for this purpose was kept a profound secret. At last it appeared before Rochefort; where the commanders, having trifled away their time in deliberating how to proceed, secured the little island of Aix, an easy and an useless conquest; soon after which, they returned home, without attempting anything else. By this miscarriage the ministry were so discouraged, that they had thoughts of abandoning the king of Prussia to his fate; and the king was actually meditating a negociation of this nature, when he was prevented by the expulsions of his distressed ally. From motives of generosity, therefore, more than of interest, it was resolved to continue to assist him; and success, which had long fled from the British arms, once more began to return with double splendour.

It was in the East Indies where this returning success first began to appear. The war in Asia had never been totally suspended. It was carried on at first by both nations under pretence of lending assistance to the contending chiefs of the country; but the allies soon became the principals in the contention. This war at first, and for a long time after the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, was protracted with doubtful success; but at length the affairs of the English seemed to gain the ascendancy by the courage and conduct of Mr. Clive. By his activity the province of Arcot was first cleared. Soon after, the French general was taken prisoner; and the nabob whom the English supported was reinstated in the government of which he had been formerly deprived. Upon this, the French sent over a commissary to Europe to restore peace. A convention between the two companies was accordingly concluded, importing, that the territories taken on either side since the conclusion of the last peace should be mutually restored; that the nabobs advanced by the influence of either party should be acknowledged by both; and that, for the future, neither should interfere in the differences that should arise between the princes of the country. This tranquillity, however, was of short duration. In a few months both sides renewed their operations, no longer under the name of auxiliaries, but as rivals in arms, government, and commerce. The most powerful prince in that country declared war against the British; and, levying a numerous army, laid siege to Calcutta, one of the principal British forts in that part of the world, but which was not in a condition to defend itself even from these barbarians. But, for a particular account of the miserable fate of this place, and the subsequent transactions there, see BENGAL, n° 10, &c., and CALCUTTA.

Clive, having fully revenged the loss sustained at Calcutta, and made the power of the British irresistible over all the peninsula of India, the French ministry were greatly alarmed. To make some sort of opposition, a considerable body of forces was sent out under the command of general Lally; and for some time the affairs of France seemed to wear a better aspect from his conduct. He took fort St David's; plundered the country of the king of Tanjour in alliance with the British; and then, entering the province of Arcot, prepared for laying siege to Madras; but in this enterprise he miscarried through the cowardice of his soldiers. These successes, however, were of short duration. The British troops, headed by colonel Coote a native of Ireland, marched against Lally, with a design to come to a decisive engagement. On his march, Coote took the city of Wandewash, and afterwards reduced the fortress of Carangoly. At length he came up with the French general, who had no thoughts of declining an engagement. In the morning early, the French advanced within three quarters of a mile of the British line, and the cannonading began with great fury on both sides. The engagement continued till two in the afternoon; when the French gave way and fled towards their camp; which they quickly after abandoned, leaving all their cannon and baggage to the victors.

The retaking the city of Arcot was the consequence of this victory; so that nothing now remained to the French, of all their Indian dominions, but the strong town of Pondicherry and some adjacent fortresses. Coote began with reducing the forts in its neighbourhood; after which, he sat down before the city. Lally held out to the last extremity, but was at length obliged to capitulate; and thus a final period was put to the power of France in the East Indies.

The British successes in the western part of the world were about this time still more splendid than those in the east. But these successes must, partly at least, be ascribed to the vigorous administration of Mr William Pitt, who about this time came into power. An expedition was set on foot against Cape Breton, under general Abercrombie and admiral Boscawen; another, under general Amherst and admiral Boscawen; another, under general Abercrombie, against Crown Point and Ticonderoga; and a third, under brigadier-general Forbes, against Fort du Quefne. The fortress of Louisburg, which defended the island of Cape Breton, was very strong both by nature and art; the garrison was numerous, the commander vigilant, and every precaution had been taken to prevent a landing. But the activity of the British surmounted every obstacle; the place was surrendered by capitulation, and its fortifications were demolished. The expedition against Fort du Quefne was equally successful; but that against Crown Point once more miscarried. General Abercrombie attacked the French in their entrenchments, was repulsed with great Great slaughter, and obliged to retire to his camp at Lake George. But though in this respect the British arms were unsuccessful, yet, upon the whole, the campaign of 1758 was greatly in their favour. The taking of Fort du Queche served to remove from their colonies the terror of the incursions of the Indians, while it interrupted the correspondence along a chain of forts with which the French had environed the British settlements in America, so that the succeeding campaign promised great success.

In 1759, it was resolved to attack the French in several parts of their empire at once. General Amherst with a body of 12,000 men was commanded to attack Crown Point; General Wolfe was to undertake the siege of Quebec; while general Prideaux and Sir William Johnson were to attempt a French fort near the cataracts of Niagara. This last expedition was the first that succeeded. The siege was begun with vigour, and promised an easy conquest; but general Prideaux was killed in the trenches by the bursting of a mortar, so that the whole command devolved on general Johnson. A body of French troops, sensible of the importance of the place, attempted to relieve it; but were utterly defeated and dispersed; soon after which, the garrison surrendered prisoners of war. On his arrival at the forts at Crown Point and Ticonderago, general Amherst found them deserted and destroyed. There now remained, therefore, but one decisive blow to reduce all North America under the British dominion; and this was by the taking of Quebec* the capital of Canada. This expedition was commanded by admiral Saunders and general Wolfe. The enterprise was attended with difficulties which appeared unfavourable; but all these difficulties were got over by the conduct of general Wolfe, and the bravery of his men. He engaged and put to flight the French under Montcalm; but to the great regret of the British, their general was killed in the action. The surrender of Quebec was the consequence of this victory, which was soon followed by the cession of all Canada. The following season, indeed, the French made a vigorous effort to recover the city; but by the resolution of governor Murray, and the appearance of a British fleet under the command of lord Colville, they were obliged to abandon the enterprise. The whole province was soon after reduced by the prudence and activity of general Amherst, who obliged the French army to capitulate, and it has since remained annexed to the British empire. About the same time also the island of Guadalupe was reduced by commodore More and general Hoplon.

The British affairs in Germany had at the beginning of the war worn a very unfavourable aspect. The Hanoverians were commanded by the duke of Cumberland, who was greatly outnumbered by the enemy. He was driven beyond the Weser, the passage of which might have been disputed with some appearance of success; but the French were suffered to pass it unmolested. The Hanoverians were driven from one part of the country to another, till at length it made a stand near a village called Hassenbach, where it was hoped the numbers of the enemy would have the least opportunity of coming to a general engagement. The Hanoverians, however, left the field of battle to the French, after a faint resistance. Their enemies pursued, and the duke retired towards Stade; by which means he marched into a country from whence he could neither procure provisions, nor attack the enemy with any hopes of success. Here, being unable either to escape or advance, he was compelled to sign a capitulation by which the whole army laid down their arms, and were dispersed into different quarters of cantonment. By this remarkable capitulation, which was called the capitulation of Closter Seven, Hanover was obliged to submit quietly to the French, who were now determined to turn their arms against the king of Prussia.

Soon after this capitulation, both sides began to complain that the treaty was not strictly observed. The Hanoverians exclaimed against the rapacity of the French general, and the brutality of his soldiery. The French retorted the charge against them; accused them of insolence and insurrection; and, being sensible of their own superiority, resolved to bind them strictly to their terms of agreement. The Hanoverians only wanted a pretence to take arms, and a general to head them. Neither were long wanting. The oppressions of the tax-gatherers whom the French had appointed, were considered as so severe, that the army role to vindicate the freedom of their country, while Ferdinand, prince of Brunswick, put himself at their head. As soon as this was known in Britain, large supplies were granted both for the service of the king of Prussia, and to enable the Hanoverian army to act vigorously in conjunction with him. A small body of British forces was sent over to join prince Ferdinand under the duke of Marlborough. After some inconsiderable successes at Crevelt, the duke of Marlborough dying, the command of the British forces devolved on lord George Sackville. A misunderstanding arose between him and prince Ferdinand, which appeared at the battle of Minden that was fought shortly after. Lord George pretended that he did not understand the orders sent him by the prince, and of consequence did not obey them. The allies gained the victory, which would have been more decisive had the British commander obeyed his orders. He was soon after recalled, tried by a court-martial, found guilty of disobedience, and declared incapable of serving in any military command for the future.

After this victory it was imagined, that one reinforcement more of British troops would terminate the war in favour of the allies; and that reinforcement was quickly sent. The British army in Germany was augmented to upwards of 30,000 men, and sanguine hopes of conquest were generally entertained. These hopes, however, were soon found to be ill founded. The allies were defeated at Corbach; but retrieved their honour at Exdorf. A victory at Warbourg followed shortly after, and another at Zierenberg; but then they suffered a defeat at Compen; after which, both sides retired into winter-quarters.

On the 25th of October 1760, happened the death of king George II. He had risen at his usual hour, and observed to his attendants, that as the weather was fine, he would take a walk into the gardens of Kensington, where he then resided. In a few minutes after his return, being left alone, he was heard to fall down upon the floor. The noise of this bringing his attendants into the room, they lifted him into bed; where he expired with a faint voice, that the princess Amelia might be sent for; but before she could reach the the apartment, he expired, in the 77th year of his age, and 33rd of his reign. An attempt was made to bleed him, but without effect; and afterwards the surgeons, upon opening him, discovered that the right ventricle of the heart was ruptured, and a great quantity of blood discharged through the aperture.

King George III. ascended the throne amidst the greatest successes both by sea and land. At this time, indeed, the efforts of Britain in every quarter of the globe were truly astonishing. The king of Prussia received a subsidy; a large body of English forces commanded the extensive peninsula of India; another army of 20,000 men confirmed their conquests in North America; 30,000 men were employed in Germany; and a great many more were dispersed in the different garrisons in different parts of the world: but all this was surpassed by the astonishing naval force, which carried command wherever it came, and had totally annihilated the French maritime power. The courage and conduct of the English admirals excelled every thing that had been heard before; neither superior force nor number, nor even the terrors of the tempest, could intimidate them. Admiral Hawke gained a complete victory over an equal number of French ships, in Quiberon bay on the coast of Bretagne, in the midst of a tempest, during the darkness of night, and, what a seaman fears still more, in the neighbourhood of a rocky shore.

As soon as his present majesty had met with his parliament, which was on November 18th, 1760, he confirmed the hopes of his allies, and gave assurances of his intentions to prosecute the war with vigour. By this time, however, the people were in some measure weary with conquests; especially with those in Germany, from which they could never hope for any solid advantage, and which were gained at an immense expense to the nation. Disputes concerning the propriety of the German war were carried on, and the general run of popular opinion seemed to be rather against than for it. For some time, however, no change took place in the method of carrying on the war. In 1761, proposals of peace were made between the belligerent powers of Europe; and for this purpose Mr Stanley was sent to Paris, and Mr Bussy to London: but the French, desirous to draw Spain into a confederacy with them, seem not to have been sincere in their intentions; and thus the treaty came to nothing. An enterprise was projected against the island of Belleisle, near the coast of France, which was conducted by commodore Keppel and general Hodgson. The place was conquered, with the loss of 1800 men killed and wounded on the part of the British; and however unimportant this conquest might be, the rejoicings on account of it were great. In Germany the campaign was unsuccessful on the part of the allies. At first, indeed, they drove the French quite out of the territory of Hesse, and laid siege to the city of Cassel; but being defeated at Stangerode, they were forced to raise the siege, retire behind the Dymel, and again abandon Hesse to their enemies. Here they were followed and attacked by the French; who, though defeated in that attempt, were with difficulty prevented from making themselves masters of Munder and Brunswick.

All this time an appearance of negociation had been carried on; but at last the French having brought their designs with the court of Spain to a bearing, Mr Bussy delivered to Mr Pitt a private memorial, signifying, that, in order to establish the peace on a lasting foundation, the king of Spain might be induced to guaranty the treaty; and to prevent the differences which then subsisted between Britain and Spain from producing a fresh war in Europe, he proposed, that in this negociation, the three points which had been disputed between the crowns of England and Spain might be finally settled. First, the restitution of some captures made upon the Spanish flag. Secondly, the privilege of the Spanish nation to fish upon the banks of Newfoundland. Thirdly, the demolition of the English settlements made in the bay of Honduras. This memorial was returned as wholly unsatisfactory. Mr Pitt declared, that it would be looked upon as an affront to the dignity of his matter, and incompatible with the sincerity of the negociation, to make any further mention of such a circumstance.

Mr Pitt, being now thoroughly convinced of the sinister designs of Spain, proposed immediately to declare war against that kingdom. But this proposal being rejected, he immediately resigned his employment of secretary of state; after which, he was created earl of Chatham, and had a pension of 3000l. per annum settled upon him for three lives.

Soon after this, however, the new administration found that Mr Pitt was in the right, and war was declared between Great Britain and Spain. As Portugal was an useful ally of Britain, it was resolved by the French and Spaniards to attack that kingdom, which was then in no capacity of defending itself. The Portuguese monarch was by the most haughty memorials commanded to accede to the confederacy against Britain, and threatened with the vengeance of France and Spain in case of a refusal. It was in vain that he promised to observe a strict neutrality, and urged the obligations he was under to the king of Britain; this moderate and reasonable reply only drew on more haughty and insulting answers. His Portuguese majesty, however, continued to reject their proposals in the most resolute manner; and concluded his last declaration with these words, that "it would affect him less, though reduced to the last extremity of which the great Judge is the sole arbiter, to let the last tile of his palace fall, and to see his faithful subjects spill the last drop of their blood, than to sacrifice, together with the honour of his crown, all that Portugal holds most dear, and to submit, by such extraordinary means, to become an unheard of example to all pacific powers, who will no longer be able to enjoy the benefit of neutrality, whenever a war shall be kindled between other powers with which the former are connected by defensive treaties." This declaration was made on the 27th of April 1762; and soon after, France and Spain jointly declared war against Portugal.

As the design of the courts of France and Spain in making war with Portugal, was professedly to prevent Great Britain from the military and commercial use of the ports of that kingdom, their principal endeavours were aimed at the two great ports where the British used to reside, viz. Oporto and Lisbon. With this view, three inroads were to be made; one to the north; another more to the south; while the third was made in the middle provinces, in order to sustain these two bodies, and preserve a communication between them. The first body of troops was commanded by the marquis of Savria; and entered the north-east angle of Portugal, marching towards Miranda. This town might possibly have retarded their progress, had not a powder-magazine been blown up by accident; and the Spaniards entered on the ninth of May by the breaches made by this explosion. From thence they marched to Braganza, which surrendered five days after Miranda. Moncorvo was taken in like manner; every thing was clear before them to the banks of the Douro; and they became masters of almost the whole extensive province of Tralos Montes. Oporto was given up for lost, and the British admiralty prepared transports to carry off the effects of the British merchants. On the banks of the Douro, however, the career of this body was stopped. The peasants, animated, and guided by some British officers, seized a difficult pass, and drove the enemy back to Moncorvo.

The second body of Spaniards entered the province of Beira, at the villages called Val de Malu and Val de Coelhos. They were joined by strong detachments amounting to almost the whole army in Tralos Montes; and immediately laid siege to Almeida, the strongest and best provided place on the frontiers of Portugal. This place was defended with sufficient resolution; but, like the rest, was obliged to surrender on the 25th of August. The Spaniards then overran the whole territory of Cateel Branco, a principal district of the province of Beira, making their way southward until they approached the banks of the Tagus. During the whole of their progress, and indeed during the whole of the campaign, the allied troops of Great Britain and Portugal had nothing that could be called an army in the field, and they could not think of opposing the enemy in a pitched battle. All that could be done was by the defence of passes, skirmish, and surprise.

By this time the count of la Lippe Buckeburg had arrived in Portugal, to the inexplicable joy of the whole nation. The third Spanish army had assembled on the frontiers of Estremadura, with a design to invade the province of Alentejo; and had this body of troops been joined to the others, they would probably, in spite of all opposition, have forced their way to Lisbon itself; had it acted separately, it might have greatly distracted the defendants, so as to enable some other body of forces to penetrate to that city. The count, therefore, resolved to prevent their entrance into the kingdom; and with this view dispatched brigadier-general Burgoyne to attack an advanced body of Spaniards which lay on their frontiers, in a town called Valenta de Alcantara. On the 27th of August, the town was surprised; the general was taken who intended to have commanded in the invasion, together with one colonel, two captains, and 17 subaltern officers. One of the best regiments in the Spanish service was also entirely destroyed; and thus the enemy were in all probability prevented from entering Alentejo.

That part of the Spanish army which acted in the territory of Cateel Branco had made themselves masters of several important passes, which they obliged some bodies of Portuguese to abandon. The combined army of British and Portuguese pretended to retire before them, in order to draw them into the mountainous tracts. They attacked the rear of the allies, but were repulsed with loss. Still, however, they continued masters of the country, and nothing remained but the passage of the Tagus to enable them to take up their quarters in the province of Alentejo. This the count designed to prevent; and in this service general Burgoyne was employed, who formed a design of surprising them. The execution was committed to colonel Lee, who, in the night of October 6th, fell upon their rear, dispersed the whole body with considerable slaughter, destroyed their magazines, and returned with scarce any loss. The season was now far advanced; immense quantities of rain fell; the roads were destroyed; and the Spaniards, having seized no advanced posts where they could maintain themselves, and being unprovided with magazines for the support of their horse, everywhere fell back to the frontiers of Spain.

No less successful were the British arms in America, Havana, and the East Indies. From the French were taken the islands of Martinico, St Lucia, St Vincent, and Granada; from the Spaniards, the strong fortresses called Havannah, in the island of Cuba. By the acquisition of the first mentioned islands, the British became the sole and undisturbed possessors of all the Caribbees, and held that chain of innumerable islands which forms an immense bow, extending from the eastern point of Hispaniola almost to the continent of South America. The conquest of the Havannah cost a number of brave men; more of whom were destroyed by the climate than the enemy*. It was in this place that the fleets* See Ha from the several parts of the Spanish West Indies, called the galleons and frigates, assembled, before they finally set out on their voyage for Europe. The acquisition of this place, therefore, united in itself all the advantages which can be acquired in war. It was a military advantage of the highest class; it was equal to plunder the greatest naval victory, by its effect on the enemy's place, and in the plunder it equalled the produce of a national subsidy. Nine of the enemy's men of war, with four frigates, were taken; three of their capital ships had been sunk in the harbour at the beginning of the siege; two more were on the stocks in great forwardness, and these were destroyed. In money and valuable merchandizes, the plunder did not fall short of 3,000,000l. sterling. To this success in the western part of the world may be added the capture of the Spanish register-ship called the Hermione, by the Antigallian privateer. This happened on the 21st of May 1762, just as she was entering one of the ports of Old Spain, and the prize was little short of 1,000,000l. sterling.

In the East Indies an expedition was undertaken against the Philippine islands, which was committed to colonel Draper, who arrived for this purpose at Madras, in the latter end of June 1762. The 79th regiment was the only regular corps that could be spared for this service. Everything was conducted with the greatest celerity and judgment. The British forces landed on Manila on the 24th of September; on the 6th of October the governor was obliged to surrender at discretion; and soon after, the galleon bound from Manila to Acapulco, laden with rich merchandise, to the value of more than half a million, was taken by two frigates called the Argo and Panther. By the conquest of Manila, 14 considerable islands fell into the hands of the British; which from their extent, fertility, and con- convenience of commerce, furnished the materials of a great kingdom. By this acquisition, joined to our former successes, we secured all the avenues of the Spanish trade, and interrupted all communications between the parts of their vast but unconnected empire. The conquest of the Havannah had cut off, in a great measure, the intercourse of their wealthy continental colonies with Europe: the reduction of the Philippines excluded them from Asia; and the plunder taken was far more than sufficient to indemnify the charges of the expedition; a circumstance not very common in modern wars. It amounted to upwards of a million and a half; of which the East India company, on whom the charge of the enterprise in a great measure lay, were by contract to have a third part.

All this time the war in Germany had continued with the utmost violence; the allies under prince Ferdinand had continued to give the highest proofs of their valour, but no decisive advantage could be obtained against the French. It was, however, no longer the interest of Britain to continue a destructive war. There never had been a period so fortunate or glorious to this island. In the course of this war she had conquered a tract of continent of immense extent. Her American territory approached to the borders of Asia, and came near to the frontiers of the Russian and Chinese dominions. She had conquered 25 islands, all of them distinguishable for their magnitude, their riches, or the importance of their situation. By sea or land she had gained 12 battles, had reduced 9 fortified cities, and near 40 castles and forts. She had taken or destroyed above 100 ships of war from her enemies, and acquired at least 10,000,000l. in plunder.

By such unexampled and wide extended conquests, it is no wonder that the French and Spaniards were desirous of a peace; which was at length concluded at Paris on the 10th of February 1763. The terms granted them were by many thought too favourable. The principal of them were, That the French king should relinquish all claims to Nova Scotia; that he should likewise give up all the country of Canada; and that for the future the boundary betwixt the British and French dominions in America should be fixed by a line drawn along the middle of the river Mississippi from its source to the river Iberville, and from thence drawn by a line along the middle of this river, and the lakes Maurepas and Pontchartrain, to the sea. The islands of St Pierre, Miquelon, Martinico, Guadaloupe, Marigalante, Deprade, St Lucia, and Belleisle, were restored to France; Minorca, Granada, and the Grenadines, St Vincent, Dominica, and Tobago, were ceded to Britain. In Africa, the island of Goree was restored to France; and the river Senegal, with all its forts and dependencies, ceded to Great Britain. In the East Indies, all the forts and factories taken from the French were restored. In Europe, the fortifications of Dunkirk were to be destroyed; and all the countries, fortresses, &c. belonging to the electorate of Hanover, the duke of Brunswick, and the count of La Lippe Buckeburg, restored. With regard to Spain, the British fortifications on the bay of Honduras were to be demolished; and the Spaniards were to desist from their claim of a right to fish on the Newfoundland bank. The Havannah was restored; in consequence of which, Florida, St Augustine, and the bay of Pensacola, were ceded to Britain, and the Spaniards were to make peace with Portugal: all other countries not particularly mentioned were to be restored to their respective owners at the beginning of the war.

New Britain, a large country of North America, called also Terra Labrador, has Hudson's bay and strait, on the north and west; Canada and the river St Lawrence, on the south; and the Atlantic ocean, on the east. It is subject to Great Britain, but yields only skins and furs. The following is the best description of this country that hath yet appeared. It was drawn up by the commander of the Otter sloop, and communicated to the royal society by the honourable Daines Barrington in 1774.

"There is no part of the British dominions so little known as the immense country of Labrador. So few have visited the northern parts of this vast country, that almost from the straits of Belleisle until you come to the entrance of Hudson's bay, for more than ten degrees of latitude, no chart which can give any tolerable idea of the coast hath been hitherto formed. The barrenness of the country explains why it has been so seldom frequented. Here avarice has but little to feed on.

"Perhaps without an immoderate share of vanity, I may venture to presume, that as far as I have been, which is to the latitude of 59° 10', the draught which I have been able to form is by much the best of any that has hitherto been made.

"Others have gone before me blest with abilities superior to mine, and to whom I hope to be thought equal only in affluity. But I had advantages of which they were destitute: with a small vessel, and having an Indian with me, who knew every rock and shoal upon the coast, I was enabled to be accurate in my observations; and these are the reasons why I deem my own sketch preferable to all others.

"As this country is one of the most barren in the whole world, so its sea-coast is the most remarkable. Bordered by innumerable islands, and many of them being a considerable distance from the main land, a ship of burden would fail a great way along the coast without being able to form any notion of its true situation.

"Hence it is that all charts of it have been so extremely erroneous; and hence arose those opinions that some of the inlets extended a vast distance into the country, if not quite into the sea of Hudson's bay.

"Davis's inlet, which has been so much talked of, is not 20 leagues from the entrance of it to its extremity.

"The navigation here is extremely hazardous. Towards the land, the sea is covered with large bodies and broken pieces of ice; and the farther you go northward, the greater is the quantity you meet with.

"Some of those masses, which the seamen call islands of ice, are of a prodigious magnitude; and they are generally supposed to swim two thirds under water. You will frequently see them more than 100 feet above the surface; and to ships in a storm, or in thick weather, nothing can be more terrible.

"Those prodigious pieces of ice come from the north, and are supposed to be formed by the freezing of cataracts upon the lands about East Greenland and the pole. As soon as the severity of the winter begins to abate, their immense weight breaks them from the shore, and they are driven to the southward. To the miserable..." miserable inhabitants of Labrador their appearance upon the coast serves as a token of the approach of summer.

"This vast tract of land is extremely barren, and altogether incapable of cultivation. The surface is everywhere uneven and covered with large stones, some of which are of amazing dimensions. There are few springs; yet throughout the country there are prodigious chains of lakes or ponds, which are produced by the rains and the melting of the snow. These ponds abound in trout, but they are very small.

"There is no such thing as level land. It is a country formed of frightful mountains, and unfruitful valleys. The mountains are almost devoid of every sort of herbage. A blighted shrub and a little moss is sometimes to be seen upon them, but in general the bare rock is all you behold. The valleys are full of crooked low trees, such as the different pines, spruce, birch, and a species of cedar. Up some of the deep bays, and not far from the water, it is said, however, there are a few flicks of no inconsiderable size. In a word, the whole country is nothing more than a prodigious heap of barren rocks.

"The climate is extremely rigorous. There is but little appearance of summer before the middle of July; and in September the approach of winter is very evident. It has been remarked, that the winters within these few years have been less severe than they have been known heretofore. The cause of such an alteration it would be difficult to discover.

"All along the coast there are many rivers that empty themselves into the sea, yet there are but few of any consideration; and you must not imagine that the largest are any thing like what is generally understood by a river. Custom has taught us to give them this appellation; but the greatest part of them are nothing more than broad brooks or rivulets. As they are only drains from the ponds, in dry weather they are everywhere fordable; for, running upon a solid rock, they become broad without having a bed of any depth below the surface of the banks.

"The superficial appearance of this country is extremely unfavourable. What may be hidden in its bowels, we cannot pretend to suggest: probably it may produce some copper; the rocks in many places are impregnated with an ore of that resemblance. Something of a horny substance which is extremely transparent, and which will scale out into a multitude of small sheets, is often found amidst the stones; there are both black and white of this sort, but the black is the most rare. It has been tried in fire, but seems to be nowadays affected by heat.

"The species of wood here are not very various: excepting a few shrubs which have as yet received no name from the Europeans, the principal produce of the country is the different sorts of spruce and pine. Of these, even in the more southern parts, there is not abundance; as you advance northwards they gradually diminish; and by the time you arrive at the 65th degree of latitude, the eye is not delighted with any sort of herbage. Here the wretched residents build their miserable habitations with the bones of whales. If ever they cheer their aching limbs with a fire, they gather a few flicks from the sea shore, which have probably been washed from Norway or Lapland. Here a vast quantity of snow remains upon the land throughout the year.

"Although the winter here is so excessively rigid, in summer the heat is sometimes disagreeable; and in that season the weather is very moderate, and remarkably serene. It is but seldom foggy, speaking comparatively, between this and Newfoundland; nor are you so frequently liable to those destructive gales of wind which visit many other parts of the globe.

"It is in general high land, and sometimes you meet with mountains of astonishing height; you are also frequently presented with prospects that are really awful, and extremely romantic.

"The inhabitants of New Britain are called Eskimaux; for a particular account of whom, see the article Eskimaux.