easy to his ministers. When affairs went wrong, their artifice was to attribute the miscarriage to some unforeseen accident, which, for the future, they would take care to provide for; and excuses of this sort he would accept without examination— or hearing any thing to the contrary. He held that all apologies were lies, and, as one told him to his face, he always chose to believe the first lie. Lord Danby, who got higher in his confidence than almost any other minister that ever served him, reached this elevation rather by the dexterity with which he excused his failures than any signal success he had in his undertakings. Besides, as North says, not being of a disposition "to break his head with study," he was resigned to the will of his ministers, yielding to every thing they proposed and sometimes they would purposely apply to him, when they knew his head was full of something else; upon which he would bid them do what they wanted, and not trouble him longer. And yet such were the incongruities of his temper, that though he hated business, and could not be easily brought to mind any, still, when he was once got down to it, he would stay as long as his ministers had work for him. "Of a wonderful mixture," says Sheffield, "losing all his time, and, till of late, setting his whole heart on the fair sex," yet"in the midst of all his remissness, so industrious and indefatigable, on some particular occasions, that no man could either toil longer, or be able to manage it better." 66 They are clever fellows," says some one in Peveril, "who keep old Rowley from business"-perhaps so-but cleverer still were those who kept him to it. But besides Charles's indolence and caprice, there was another peculiarity of temper yet more irreconcileable with the character and office of a ruler: he could no more withstand a jest, a lively saying, or a piece of mimicry, than in ordinary cases he was proof against a thundering vote of the House of Commons. The fall even of Lord Clarendon is said to have been accelerated full as much by the wit and humour with which Buckingham strove to make his counsels appear ridiculous, as by the grave representations and perpetual railing of the whole bed-chamber put together. And Charles had such delight in seeing Buckingham, or some other gay courtier, by the help of a black patch across the nose, and a white staff, enact Harry Bennet, that, from this ludicrous association, Arlington, though a good man of business, could never find credit for the abilities he really possessed.

Such was the man, who had, in the latter part of his reign, to bear up against a more stern and resolute majority of the House of Commons, than ever sovereign, perhaps if we except his father, had to contend with. Deep, in

deed, must have been his sense of the peril likely to result to himself, from complying with the house, and abandoning his brother; and this we find, from Sir John Reresby, was what every body about court was strenuously inculcating. He was told, that if "he quitted his brother, it would be but an immediate step to ruin all his friends, and to become himself exposed to the will and wishes of those, whom he had no reason to think were over and abové affected to him." The king," adds Sir John," dreaded the consequences and resolved accordingly." An observation of Lord Danby's, when Sir John was one day conversing with him in the Tower, during his imprisonment, strikingly shews how completely that nobleman believed self to predominate with Charles over all other considerations. He said, with empha sis, "that though the Duke of York had but little influence with him, as to what purely regarded himself, the minister would find him an overmatch with his majesty, as to any other person or concern:" that is to say, the strongest external influence was nothing compared with the mastery which his own close and selfish temper exercised over his actions, and this is confirmed by the whole tenour of his life-his conduct in all affairs of greater or less importance-and by the very colloquial expressions he was in the habit of using. His customary phrase, when giving individuals an assurance of protection, denotes much more strongly his sense of what was due to his own interest, than to their's, who solicited his favour." Do not trouble yourself," said he to Sir John, when the latter was expressing his fears lest the house should fall upon him, for having penned the Yorkshire petition of abhorrence, “I will stick by you, and my old friends; for if I do not, I shall have nobody to stick by me." And on another occasion, when Sir John was in reasonable alarm, lest the lords,' who were scrutinizing the list of military offices, should vote his place useless," there being neither company nor gunner at Burlington, where I was governor, to make it appear a garrison," "let' them do what they will," said the king, "I will never part with any officer at the request of either house; my father lost his head for such compliance; but as for me, I intend to die another way.' ""* Yet so notorious had he become

*This dutiful and respectful mode of mentioning his father was not uncommon with him. When parliament was inquiring into the conduct of the judges, Charles observing, in the House of Lords, one of them sit pensive upon the wool-sack, went and sat down close to him, and "be of good comfort," said he, "I will never forsake my friends as my father did."

for the cold-blooded indifference with which he had been wont to extricate himself from difficulties, by the sacrifice even of ministers the most favoured, and measures the most solemnly resolved upon, that the exclusionists were justified by all their past experience in acting upon the conviction that the king, rather than suffer any annoyance, would, when he came to be pressed, desert his brother, as he had done every body else, who had trusted him; and they had many signal instances in support of this conviction. After having embarked with all his heart and soul in the intrigues of the cabal, and (by way of feeling the pulse of the nation) issued his memorable declaration of indulgence, such was the precipitation with which he veered about, when the storm began to whistle round his head, that even Shaftesbury himself, so adroit in shifting with every turn and change of the tide, had hardly time to tack about and get the start of his majesty. And it was not so long before, that, having granted Lord Danby a full pardon, and swore that he would give it him, if occasion required, "again and again ten times over," he had suffered him to be committed to the Tower; where he lay for years after the storm, which had beat so furiously upon him, had subsided into a dead calm, and his majesty had no longer any thing to fear from the resentment of the commons. This desertion of Lord Danby reflects yet more dishonour upon Charles, as that minister, though false to most other people, had been 'true to him." For had the treasurer," says Sir John, "considered nobody but himself, he might certainly have fared better;" but he resolved rather to suffer, than to do any thing that might draw discredit upon the king. "A most unhappy thing," he adds, "it is to serve a fickle prince, which, it must be owned, was part of our master's character." The word fickle, here made use of, is, we suppose, a courtier's euphuism for selfish and ungrateful. These glaring facts afford a striking com mentary upon those high sounding verses of his laurelled poet, (for laureate we cannot bring ourselves to call the mighty bard.)

2

"No groundless clamours shall my friend remove,
Nor crowds have power to punishere they prove;

For gods and god-like kings their care express,

Still to defend their servants in distress." & si cullen Tivol

In short, to use the language of his vindicator, North, there was no dependence to be placed upon the king, such dexterity did he always manifest in saving himself at any time,' -by any turn, or by the sacrifice of any person whatever. Thus, when his own ease and quiet appeared to demand that

his brother should be sent away, he could, with the most frigid indifference, tell him, he saw fit he should "absent himself some time beyond the seas." Again, when fears had been instilled into him, that, by removing his brother, he would only leave himself exposed to the aggressions of parliament, he could recall, and with the utmost shew of affection embrace him; swearing, as our author heard, that" nobody should ever part them for the future." But interest-his own sole and proper interest-was alike the moving spring of his conduct in both cases. Here the exclusionists did not discriminate motives with sufficient nicety-he had yielded, they said, ninetynine times before he would yield the hundredth-and, in blood and confiscation, they paid the penalty of their error.

The period that elapsed between the dissolution of Charles's last parliament and his own death, furnishes more deep and useful reflection than whole centuries of happier and more flourishing times. It is that portion of our history on which we least like to dwell-from which our eyes are most frequently turned away in abhorrence, and where the feelings, implanted and cherished by our free constitution, its own best and firmest supporters, are most irritated and offended. But those who would deduce from the annals of our country the most salutary warning they are calculated to afford, must force themselves to look steadfastly upon these events, however painful and loathsome to contemplate; and in the temporary grave of English liberties to read the fearful secrets of that euthanasia, which the great historian and philosopher has predicted, as the final close of our mixed constitution. Were it only that they tended to interrupt the confiding security with which, from a presumptuousness common to all free nations, we are apt to repose upon the durability of our institutions, such studies, however uninviting, were of far more use to us than the perusal of the brightest triumphs and most splendid æra of our freedom. The condition of every government, both reason and experience alike teach us, is, at the best, but precarious. Even our own, however artfully constituted, is subject to the common law of all human institutions; and, like our bodies, containing within it the seeds of death, can only hope for a longer existence, from our superior knowledgederived from a longer experience of the diseases to which governments are subject, and our superior skill in the application of the proper remedies. Every state, in its turn, appears to have believed, that in its institutions there was a kind of immortal essence, which, both in defiance of time and chance, would suffice to preserve them from decay; and to this overweening confidence in their fancied imperishable nature their ruin may, generally, in great measure, be attributed. The free

republics of Greece, superior to all the world in arts and arms, vainly imagined that no circumstances were ever likely to arise within, or power without, of a nature strong enough to destroy their independence. Yet while, in this security, in ruinous wars with each other they wasted the energies they should have reserved for its defence, on their very borders was growing up a comparatively barbarous state, which in one short day dissolved the charm for ever. While the Roman contemplated with pride the spoils of a conquered world piled up in his capitol, and believed his power as everlasting as the rock on which he stood, he saw not-what we see-the barbarians louring, in dim perspective, behind. Far less did either Greek or Roman perceive the changes which time and corruption had wrought upon the constitution of their own states, or mark the progress of that internal decay, which was preparing them for servitude, and in the case of the latter, at least, had destroyed his freedom long before the downfall of his power.

As a nation, we have our full share of this vain and uncalculating self-confidence; but whether the storm be brewing in the east, or the west, we may be certain that-should it be destined ever to break upon us--we shall best prepare ourselves to weather its violence, by preserving unimpaired the freedom of our political institutions" Whilst the Coliseum stands Rome shall stand"-a vain prediction, built upon the irrational grounds of a superstitious faith. Our own watery fence is a better protection than stone walls, but a better still is to be found in the free population it encircles; and be it our boasta fairer than the Roman's-that whilst round us rolls the ocean, and within us lives the spirit of our fathers, our country shall not cease to be-what it has ever been-the fortress and strong hold of retiring freedom. But as no state can hope for duration, whose rulers keep not a watchful eye on all around, not only observing the powers which actually exist, but as far as it is given to man to pry into futurity-discerning such as are likely to arise; so no people can expect to retain their freedom long, who are not apprehensively alive to the dangers which surround it, and who do not scrutinize with jealous attention the tendency of every-even the most immaterial act of their government. To the care and sagacity of their rulers they must, in great measure, trust for security against the dangers from without; on themselves alone can they depend for protection against those from within. The statesman who should trust, with unlimited faith, to the goodwill of any foreign power on earth, would not commit a more fatal error than the people who should repose implicit confidence in the honour, however high, or the integrity, however great, of any government whatever. That to watch and be