seats; and the parliament is dissolved, to be succeeded by a new assembly. The king's return is at hand. They who had been its tardiest advocates endeavor to throw oblivion on their hesitancy by the excess of loyalty; men vie with one another in eagerness for the restoration; no one of them is disposed to gain the certain ill-will of the monarch by proposing conditions which might not be seconded; they forget their country in their zeal for the king; they forget liberty in their eagerness to advance their fortunes; a vague proclamation on the part of Charles II., promising a general amnesty, fidelity to the Protestant religion, regard for tender consciences, and respect for the English laws, was the only pledge from the sovereign. And now that peace dawns, after twenty years of storms, all England was in ecstasy. Groups of men gathered round buckets of wine in the streets, and drank the king's health on their knees. The bells in every steeple rung merry peals; the bonfires round London were so numerous and brilliant that the city seemed encircled with a halo; and under a clear sky, with a favoring wind, the path of the exiled monarch homeward to the kingdom of his fathers was serene. As he landed on the soil of England, he was received by infinite crowds with all imaginable love. The shouting and general joy were past imagination. On the journey from Dover to London, the hillocks all the way were covered with people; the trees were filled; and such was the prodigality of flowers from maidens, such the acclamations from throngs of men, the whole kingdom seemed gathered along the roadsides. The companies of the city welcomed the king with loud thanks to God for his presence.

The tall and swarthy grandson of Henry IV. of France was of a disposition which, had he preserved purity of morals, would have made him one of the most amiable of men. It was his misfortune, in very early life, to have become thoroughly debauched in mind and heart; and adversity, the rugged nurse of virtue, made the selfish libertine more reckless. Attached to the faith of his mother, he had no purpose so seriously at heart as the restoration of the Catholic worship in England; but even this intention could not raise him above his natural languor. Did the English commons impeach Clarendon,

Charles II. could think of nothing but how to get the duchess of Richmond to court again. Was the Dutch war signalized by disasters, "the king did still follow his women as much as ever," and took more pains to reconcile the rival beauties of his court than to save his kingdom. He was incapable of steady application, read imperfectly, and, when drunk, was a good-natured, subservient fool. In the council of state, he played with his dog, never minding the business, or making a speech memorable only for its silliness; and, if he visited the naval magazines, "his talk was equally idle and frothy."

His bounty was that of facility, and left him to be "governed by the women and the rogues about him;" and his placable temper, incapable of strong revenge, was equally incapable of affection. He so loved present tranquillity that he signed the death-warrants of innocent men rather than risk disquiet, though of himself he was reluctant to hang any but republicans. "For God's sake, send for a Catholic priest," said he, on the last morning of his life, in the desire for absolution; but checked himself, lest he should expose the duke of York to danger. He pardoned all his enemies, no doubt sincerely. The queen sent to beg forgiveness for any offences. "Alas, poor woman, she beg my pardon!" he replied: "I beg hers with all my heart; take back to her that answer."

On the favor of this dissolute king of England depended the liberties of New England, where dissoluteness was held a crime and adultery punished by death on the gallows.

VOL. I.-24

CHAPTER II.

THE NAVIGATION ACTS.

THE republican revolution in England set in motion the ideas of popular liberty which the experience of happier ages was to devise ways of introducing into the political life of the nation. The swift and immoderate loyalty of the moment doomed the country to the necessity of a new revolution.

All the regicides that were caught would have perished but for Charles II., whom good nature led at last to exclaim: "I am tired of hanging, except for new offences." Haste was, however, made to despatch at least half a score, as if to appease the shade of Charles I.; and among the selected victims was Hugh Peter, once the minister of Salem, the father-in-law of the younger Winthrop; one whom Roger Williams honored and loved, and whom Milton is supposed to include among

Men whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent

Would have been held in high esteem with Paul. As a preacher, his homely energy resembled the directness of the earlier divines; in Salem he won general affection; he perseveringly strove to advance the interests and the industry of New England, and assisted in founding its earliest college. Monarchy and episcopacy he had repelled with fanatical passion, but was not a regicide. He could thank God for the massacres of Cromwell in Ireland; yet was benevolent, and would plead for the rights of the feeble and the poor. "Many godly in New England dared not condemn what he had done." In October, 1660, on his trial, he was allowed no counsel; and even false witnesses did not substantiate the specific charges urged against him. "Go home to New England, and trust God

there," were his last words to his daughter. To his friends he said: "Weep not for me; my heart is full of comfort;" and he smiled as he made himself ready to leave the world.

But it was not enough to punish the living; vengeance invaded the tombs. The corpses of Cromwell, Bradshaw, and Ireton were, by the order of both houses of parliament, and with the approbation of the king, disinterred, dragged on hurdles to Tyburn, and hanged at the three corners of the gallows. In the evening, they were cut down and beheaded, amidst the merriment of the cavaliers.

Of the judges of King Charles I., three escaped to America. Edward Whalley, who won laurels in the field of Naseby, always enjoyed the confidence of Cromwell and remained a friend to the Independents, and William Goff, a firm friend to the family of Cromwell, a good soldier, but ignorant of the true principles of freedom, escaped to Boston. For nearly a year they resided unmolested within the limits of Massachusetts, publicly preached and prayed, and gained universal applause. When, in 1661, warrants arrived from England for their apprehension, they fled to New Haven, where it was esteemed a crime against God to bewray the wanderer or give up the outcast. They removed in secrecy from house to house; sometimes concealed themselves in a mill, sometimes in clefts of the rocks by the sea-side; and for weeks together they dwelt in a cave in the forest. Great rewards were offered for their apprehension; Indians as well as English were urged to scour the woods in quest of their hiding-place, as men hunt for the holes of foxes. When the search was nearly over, they retired to a village on the sound; till at last they took refuge in Hadley, and the most beautiful valley of New England gave shelter to their wearisome age.

John Dixwell, changing his name, was absorbed among the inhabitants of New Haven, married, and lived peacefully and happily. The history of the world, which Raleigh had written in imprisonment, with the sentence of death hanging over his head, was his favorite study; and he ever retained the belief that the spirit of English liberty would demand the new revolution, which was achieved in England a few months before his death.

Three of the regicides, who had escaped to the Netherlands, found themselves, in the territory of a free republic, less secure than their colleagues in a dependent colony. In 1662, they were surrendered, and executed in England.

Sir Henry Vane, the former governor of Massachusetts, the benefactor of Rhode Island, the ever faithful friend of New England, adhered with undaunted firmness to "the glorious cause" of popular liberty; and, shunned by every man who courted the returning monarch, he became noted for the most "catholic" unpopularity. He fell from the affections of the English people, when the English people fell from the jealous care of their liberties. He had always been incorrupt and disinterested, merciful and liberal. When Unitarianism was persecuted, not as a sect, but as a blasphemy, Vane interceded for its advocate; he pleaded for the release of Quakers imprisoned for their opinions; as a legislator, he demanded justice in behalf of the Roman Catholics; he resisted the sale of Penruddoc's men into slavery, as an aggression on the rights of man. The immense emoluments of his office as treasurer of the navy he voluntarily resigned. When the Presbyterians, though his adversaries, were forcibly excluded from the house of commons, he absented himself. After the monarchy was overthrown and a commonwealth attempted, Vane reluctantly filled a seat in the council; and, amid the floating wrecks of the English constitution, he clung to the existing parliament as to the only fragment on which it was possible to rescue English liberty. His energy gave to the English navy an efficient organization, so that England could cope with Holland on the sea; and he desired such a reform of parliament as would make it a true representative of the people. He steadily resisted the usurpation of Cromwell, and for this was confined to Carisbrook Castle. Cromwell and Vane were equally unsuccessful; the first failed to secure the government of England to his family; the other, to vindicate it for the people.

The convention parliament had excepted Vane from the indemnity, on the king's promise that he should not suffer death. It was now resolved to bring him to trial; and, in June, 1662, he turned his trial into a triumph. Though