Chapter I: Part 1

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A CHARACTER OF KING _CHARLES_ THE SECOND:

AND

POLITICAL, MORAL _and_ MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS _and_ REFLECTIONS.

By _GEORGE SAVILE_, MARQUIS of HALIFAX,

_LONDON_:

Printed for J. and R. TONSON and S. DRAPER in the _Strand_. M DCC L.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THE _following_ CHARACTER _of_ King CHARLES _the_ Second, _with the_ Political, Moral _and_ Miscellaneous THOUGHTS _and_ REFLECTIONS _were written by_ GEORGE SAVILE _Marquis of_ HALIFAX, _and were taken from his original Manuscripts, in the Possession of his Grand-daughter_ DOROTHY Countess _of_ BURLINGTON.

CONTENTS.

Page

_Character of_ King CHARLES II. 1

Political Thoughts and Reflections.
_Of Fundamentals_, 63
_Of Princes_, 77
_Princes_, (_their Rewards of Servants_) 79
_Princes_, (_their Secrets_) 80
_Love of the Subjects to a Prince_, 81
_Suffering for Princes_, ibid.
_Of Ministers_, 82
_Wicked Ministers_, 84
_Instruments of State Ministers_, 85
_Of the People_, 86
_Of Government_, 89
_Clergy_, 92
_Religion_, 93
_Of Prerogative, Power and Liberty_, 94
_Of Laws_, 101
_Of Parliaments_, 103
_Of Parties_, 105
_Of Courts_, 111
_Of Punishment_, 114

Moral Thoughts and Reflections.
_Of the World_, 116
_Of Ambition_, 119
_Of Cunning and Knavery_, 121
_Of Folly and Fools_, 126
_Of Hope_, 132
_Of Anger_, 134
_Of Apologies_, 136
_Of Malice and Envy_, 139
_Of Vanity_, 141
_Of Money_, 145
_False Learning_, 147
_Of Company_, 148
_Of Friendship_, 150

Miscellaneous Thoughts and Reflections.
_Of Advice and Correction_, 152
_Of Alterations_, 153
_Bashfulness_, 154
_Boldness_, ibid.
_Borrowers of Opinions_, 155
_Candour_, ibid.
_Of Caution and Suspicion_, 156
_Cheats_, 161
_Complaint_, ibid.
_Content_, 162
_Converts_, ibid.
_Desires_, 162
_Difficulty_, 163
_Dissembling_, 164
_Dreams_, ibid.
_Drunkenness_, ibid.
_Experience_, 165
_Extremes_, ibid.
_Faculties of the Mind_, 166
_Families_, 168
_Fear_, 169
_Flattery_, 170
_Forgetfulness_, 171
_Good-manners_, ibid.
_Good-nature_, 172
_Good-will_, ibid.
_Heat_, ibid.
_Honesty_, ibid.
_Hypocrisy_, 173
_Injuries_, ibid.
_Integrity_, 174
_Justice_, ibid.
_To Love, and to be in Love different_, 175
_Lucre_, ibid.
_Lying_, ibid.
_Names_, 176
_Partiality_, ibid.
_Patience_, 177
_Positiveness_, 177
_Prosperity_, ibid.
_Quiet_, ibid.
_Reason and Passion_, 178
_Reputation_, 179
_Self-Love_, ibid.
_Shame_, ibid.
_Singularity_, ibid.
_Slander_, 180
_Speakers in Publick_, ibid.
_Time, the Loss of it_, 181
_Truth_, ibid.
_Wisdom_, ibid.
_Youth_, 182

A CHARACTER OF KING _CHARLES_ II.

I. _Of his_ RELIGION.

A Character differeth from a Picture only in this, every Part of it must be like, but it is not necessary that every Feature should be comprehended in it as in a Picture, only some of the most remarkable.

_This Prince_ at his first entrance into the World had Adversity for his Introducer, which is generally thought to be no ill one, but in his case it proved so, and laid the foundation of most of those Misfortunes or Errors, that were the causes of the great Objections made to him.

The first Effect it had was in relation to his _Religion_.

The ill-bred familiarity of the _Scotch_ Divines had given him a distaste of that part of the Protestant Religion. He was left then to the little Remnant of the _Church of England_ in the _Fauxbourg St. Germain_; which made such a kind of figure, as might easily be turn'd in such a manner as to make him lose his veneration for it. In a refined Country where Religion appeared in Pomp and Splendor, the outward appearance of such unfashionable Men was made an Argument against their Religion; and a young Prince not averse to rallery, was the more susceptible of a contempt for it.

The Company he kept, the Men in his Pleasures, and the Arguments of State that he should not appear too much a Protestant, whilst he expected Assistance from a Popish Prince; all these, together with a habit encouraged by an Application to his Pleasures, did so loosen and untie him from his first Impressions, that I take it for granted, after the first Year or two, he was no more a Protestant. If you ask me what he was, my answer must be, that he was of the Religion of a young Prince in his warm Blood, whose Enquiries were more applied to find Arguments against believing, than to lay any settled Foundations for acknowledging Providence, Mysteries, _&c._ A General Creed, and no very long one, may be presumed to be the utmost Religion of one, whose Age and Inclination could not well spare any Thoughts that did not tend to his Pleasures.

In this kind of Indifference or Unthinkingness, which is too natural in the beginnings of Life to be heavily censured, I will suppose he might pass some considerable part of his Youth. I must presume too that no Occasions were lost, during that Time, to insinuate every thing to bend him towards Popery. Great Art without intermission against Youth and Easiness, which are seldom upon their guard, must have its Effect. A Man is to be admired if he resisteth, and therefore cannot reasonably be blamed if he yieldeth to them. _When_ the critical Minute was, I'll not undertake to determine; but certainly the inward Conviction doth generally precede the outward Declarations: At what distances, dependeth upon Mens several Complexions and Circumstances; no stated Period can be fixed.

It will be said that he had not Religion enough to have _Conviction_; that is a vulgar Error. Conviction indeed is not a proper word but where a Man is convinced by Reason; but in the common acceptation, it is applied to those who cannot tell why they are so: If Men can be at least as positive in a Mistake as when they are in the right; they may be as clearly convinced when they do not know why, as when they do.

I must presume that no Man of the King's Age, and his Methods of Life, could possibly give a good reason for changing the Religion in which he was born, let it be what it will. But our Passions are much oftener convinced than our Reason. He had but little Reading, and that tending to his Pleasures more than to his Instruction. In the Library of a young Prince, the solemn Folios are not much rumpled, Books of a lighter Digestion have the Dog's Ears.

Some pretend to be very precise in the time of his Reconciling; The Cardinal _de Retz_, _&c._ I will not enter into it minutely, but whenever it was, it is observable that the Government of _France_ did not think it adviseable to discover it openly; upon which such obvious Reflections may be made, that I will not mention them.

Such a Secret can never be put into a place which is so closely stopt, that there shall be no Chinks. Whispers went about, particular Men had Intimations: _Cromwell_ had his Advertisements in other things, and this was as well worth his paying for. There was enough said of it to startle a great many, though not universally diffused; So much, that if the Government here, had not crumbled of itself, his Right alone, with that and other clogs upon it, would hardly have thrown it down. I conclude that when he came into _England_ he was as certainly a _Roman Catholick_, as that he was a Man of Pleasure; both very consistent by visible Experience.

It is impertinent to give Reasons for Mens changing their Religion. None can give them but themselves, as every Man has quite a different way of arguing: A thing which may very well be accounted for. They are differing kinds of Wit, to be quick to find a _Fault_, and to be capable to find out a _Truth_: There must be industry in the last; the first requires only a lively heat, that catcheth hold of the _weak_ side of any thing, but to choose the _strong_ one is another Talent. The reason why Men of Wit are often the laziest in their Enquiries is, that their heat carrieth their Thoughts so fast, that they are apt to be tired, and they faint in the drudgery of a continued Application. Have not Men of great Wit in all times permitted their Understandings to give way to their first Impressions? It taketh off from the Diminution when a Man doth not _mind_ a thing; and the King had then other Business: The inferior part of the Man was then in Possession, and the Faculties of the Brain, as to serious and painful Enquiries, were laid asleep at least, tho' not extinguished. Careless Men are most subject to Superstition. Those who do not study Reason enough to make it their Guide, have more Unevenness: As they have Neglects, so they have Starts and Frights; Dreams will serve the turn; Omens and Sicknesses have violent and sudden Effects upon them. Nor is the strength of an Argument so effectual from its intrinsick Force, as by its being well suited to the Temper of the Party.

The _genteel part_ of the _Catholick_ Religion might tempt a Prince that had more of the fine Gentleman than his governing Capacity required: and the exercise of _Indulgence_ to _Sinners_ being more frequent in it, than of _inflicting Penance_, might be some recommendation. Mistresses of that Faith are stronger Specificks in this case, than any that are in Physick.

The _Roman Catholicks_ complained of his Breach of Promise to them very early.[1] There were broad peepings out, Glimpses so often repeated, that to discerning Eyes it was flaring: In the very first Year there were such Suspicions as produced melancholy shakings of the Head, which were very significant. His unwillingness to _marry_ a _Protestant_ was remarkable, though both the Catholick and the Christian Crown would have adopted her. Very early in his Youth, when any _German_ Princess was proposed, he put off the discourse with Rallery. A thousand little Circumstances were a kind of accumulative Evidence, which in these Cases may be admitted.

Men that were earnest Protestants were under the sharpness of his Displeasure, expressed by Rallery, as well as by other ways. Men near him have made Discoveries from sudden breakings out in Discourse, _&c._ which shewed there was a Root. It was not the least skilful part of his concealing himself, to make the World think he leaned towards an Indifference in Religion.

He had Sicknesses _before_ his Death, in which he did not trouble any Protestant Divines; those who saw him _upon his Death-bed_, saw a great deal.

As to his writing those Papers,[2] he might do it. Though neither his Temper nor Education made him very fit to be an Author, yet in this case, (a known Topick, so very often repeated) he might write it all himself, and yet not one word of it his own. That Church's Argument doth so agree with Men unwilling to take pains, the Temptation of putting an End to all the trouble of enquiring is so great, that it must be very strong reason that can resist: The King had only his meer natural Faculties, without any Acquisitions to improve them; so that it is no wonder, if an Argument which gave such _Ease_ and _Relief_ to his Mind, made such an Impression, that with thinking often of it, (as Men are apt to do of every thing they like) he might, by the Effect chiefly of his Memory, put together a few Lines with his own Hand, without any help at the time; in which there was nothing extraordinary, but that one so little inclined to write at all, should prevail with himself to do it with the Solemnity of a Casuist.

II. _His_ DISSIMULATION.

One great Objection made to him was the concealing himself, and disguising his Thoughts. In this there ought a Latitude to be given; it is a Defect not to have it at all, and a Fault to have it too much. Human Nature will not allow the Mean: like all other things, as soon as ever Men get to do them well, they cannot easily hold from doing them too much. 'Tis the case even in the least things, as singing, _&c._

In _France_, he was to dissemble Injuries and Neglects, from one reason; in _England_ he was to dissemble too, though for other Causes; A King upon the _Throne_ hath as great Temptations (though of another kind) to dissemble, as a King in _Exile_. The King of _France_ might have his Times of Dissembling as much with him, as he could have to do it with the King of _France_: So he was in a _School_.

No King can be so little inclined to dissemble but he must needs learn it from his _Subjects_, who every Day give him such Lessons of it. Dissimulation is like most other Qualities, it hath two Sides; it is necessary, and yet it is dangerous too. To have none at all layeth a Man open to Contempt, to have too much exposeth him to Suspicion, which is only the less dishonourable Inconvenience. If a Man doth not take very great Precautions, he is never so much shewed as when he endeavoureth to hide himself. One Man cannot take more pains to hide himself, than another will do to see into him, especially in the Case of Kings.

It is none of the exalted Faculties of the Mind, since there are Chamber-Maids will do it better than any Prince in Christendom. Men given to dissembling are like Rooks at play, they will cheat for Shillings they are so used to it. The vulgar Definition of Dissembling is downright Lying; that kind of it which is less ill-bred cometh pretty near it. Only Princes and Persons of Honour must have gentler Words given to their Faults, than the nature of them may in themselves deserve.

Princes dissemble with too many, not to have it discovered; no wonder then that He carried it so far that it was discovered. Men compared Notes, and got Evidence; so that those whose Morality would give them leave, took it for an Excuse for serving him ill. Those who knew his Face, fixed their Eyes there; and thought it of more Importance to see, than to hear what he said. His Face was as little a Blab as most Mens, yet though it could not be called a prattling Face, it would sometimes tell Tales to a good Observer. When he thought fit to be angry, he had a very peevish Memory; there was hardly a Blot that escaped him. At the same time that this shewed the Strength of his Dissimulation, it gave warning too; it fitted his present Purpose, but it made a Discovery that put Men more upon their Guard against him. Only Self-flattery furnisheth perpetual Arguments to trust again: The comfortable Opinion Men have of themselves keepeth up Human Society, which would be more than half destroyed without it.

III. _His_ AMOURS, MISTRESSES, _&c._

It may be said that his Inclinations to Love were the Effects of Health, and a good Constitution, with as little mixture of the _Seraphick_ part as ever Man had: And though from that Foundation Men often raise their Passions; I am apt to think his stayed as much as any Man's ever did in the _lower Region_. This made him like easy Mistresses: They were generally resigned to him while he was abroad, with an implied Bargain. Heroick refined Lovers place a good deal of their Pleasure in the Difficulty, both for the vanity of Conquest, and as a better earnest of their Kindness.

After he was restored, Mistresses were recommended to him; which is no small matter in a _Court_, and not unworthy the Thoughts even of a _Party_. A Mistress either dexterous in herself, or well-instructed by those that are so, may be very useful to her Friends, not only in the immediate Hours of her Ministry, but by her Influences and Insinuations at other times. It was resolved generally by others, whom he should have in his Arms, as well as whom he should have in his Councils. Of a Man who was so capable of choosing, he chose as seldom as any Man that ever lived.

He had more properly, at least in the beginning of his Time, a good Stomach to his Mistresses, than any great Passion for them. His taking them from others was never learnt in a Romance; and indeed fitter for a Philosopher than a Knight-Errant. His Patience for their Frailties shewed him no exact Lover. It is a Heresy according to a true Lover's Creed, ever to forgive an Infidelity, or the Appearance of it. Love of Ease will not do it, where the _Heart_ is much engaged; but where mere _Nature_ is the Motive, it is possible for a Man to think righter than the common opinion, and to argue, that a Rival taketh away nothing but the Heart, and leaveth all the rest.

In his latter Times he had no _Love_, but insensible Engagements that made it harder than most might apprehend to untie them. The _Politicks_ might have their part; a Secret, a Commission, a Confidence in critical Things, though it doth not give a Lease for a precise term of Years, yet there may be Difficulties in dismissing them; there may be no Love all the while; perhaps the contrary.

He was said to be as little constant as they were thought to be. Though he had no Love, he must have some Appetite, or else he could not keep them for meer ease, or for the Love of sauntring; Mistresses are frequently apt to be uneasy; they are in all Respects craving Creatures; so that though the taste of those Joys might be flattened, yet a Man who loved Pleasure so as to be very unwilling to part with it, might (with the Assistance of his _Fancy_, which doth not grow old so fast) reserve some supplemental Entertainments, that might make their personal Service be still of use to him. The Definition of Pleasure, is _what pleaseth_, and if that which grave Men may call a corrupted Fancy, shall adminster any Remedies for putting off mourning for the loss of Youth, who shall blame it?

The _young_ Men seldom apply their censure to these Matters; and the _elder_ have an Interest to be gentle towards a Mistake, that seemeth to make some kind of amends for their Decays.

He had Wit enough to _suspect_, and he had Wit enough too _not to care_: The Ladies got a great deal more than would have been allowed to be an equal bargain in _Chancery_, for what they did for it; but neither the manner, nor the measure of Pleasure is to be judged by others.

Little Inducements at first grew into strong Reasons by degrees. Men who do not consider Circumstances, but judge at a distance, by a general way of arguing, conclude if a Mistress in some Cases is not immediately turned off, it must needs be that the Gallant is incurably subjected. This will by no means hold in private Men, much less in Princes, who are under more Entanglements, from which they cannot so easily loosen themselves.

His Mistresses were as different in their Humours, as they were in their Looks. They gave Matter of very different Reflections. The last[3] especially was quite out of the Definition of an ordinary Mistress; the Causes and the Manner of her being first introduced were very different. A very peculiar Distinction was spoken of, same extraordinary Solemnities that might dignify, though not sanctify her Function. Her Chamber was the true Cabinet Council. The King did always by his Councils, as he did sometimes by his Meals; he sat down out of form with the _Queen_, but he supped _below Stairs_. To have the Secrets of a King, who happens to have too many, is to have a King in Chains: He must not only, not part with her, but he must in his own Defence dissemble his dislike: The less kindness he hath, the more he must shew: There is great difference between being _muffled_, and being _tied_: He was the first, not the last. If he had quarelled at some times, besides other Advantages, this Mistress had a powerful _Second_; (one may suppose a kind of a _Guarantee_) this to a Man that loved his _Ease_, though his _Age_ had not helped, was sufficient.

The thing called _Sauntering_, is a stronger Temptation to Princes than it is to others. The being galled with Importunities, pursued from one Room to another with asking Faces; the dismal Sound of unreasonable Complaints, and ill-grounded Pretences; the Deformity of Fraud ill-disguised; all these would make any Man run away from them; and I used to think it was the Motive for making him walk so fast. So it was more properly taking Sanctuary. To get into a Room, where all Business was to stay at the Door, excepting such as he was disposed to admit, might be very acceptable to a younger Man than he was, and less given to his Ease. He slumbered after Dinner, had the noise of the Company to divert him, without their Solicitations to importune him. In these Hours where he was more unguarded, no doubt the cunning Men of the Court took their times to make their Observations, and there is as little doubt but he made his upon them too: Where Men had Chinks he would see through them as soon as any Man about him. There was much more real Business done there in his Politick, than there was in his personal Capacity, _Stans pede in uno_; and there was the _French part_ of _the Government_, which was not the least.

In short, without endeavouring to find more Arguments, he was _used_ to it. Men do not care to put off a Habit, nor do often succeed when they go about it. His was not an _unthinkingness_; he did not perhaps think so much of his Subjects as they might wish; but he was far from being wanting to think of himself.

IV. _His_ CONDUCT _to his_ MINISTERS.

He lived with his Ministers as he did with his Mistresses; he used them, but he was not in love with them. He shewed his Judgment in this, that he cannot properly be said ever to have had a _Favourite_, though some might look so at a distance. The present use he might have of them, made him throw Favours upon them, which might lead the lookers on into that mistake; but he tied himself no more to them, than they did to him, which implied a sufficient Liberty on either side.

Perhaps he made _dear Purchases_: If he seldom gave profusely, but where he expected some unreasonable thing, great Rewards were material Evidences against those who received them.

He was _free of access_ to them, which was a very gaining Quality. He had at least as good a Memory for the Faults of his Ministers as for their Services; and whenever they fell, the whole Inventory came out; there was not a slip omitted.

That some of his Ministers seemed to have a _Superiority_, did not spring from his Resignation to them, but to his Ease. He chose rather to be _eclipsed_ than to be _troubled_.

His Brother was a Minister, and he had his Jealousies of him. At the same time that he raised him, he was not displeased to have him lessened. The cunning Observers found this out, and at the same time that he reigned in the Cabinet, he was very familiarly used at the private Supper.

A Minister turned off is like a Lady's Waiting-Woman, that knoweth all her Washes, and hath a shrewd guess at her Strayings: So there is danger in turning them off, as well as in keeping them.

He had back Stairs to convey _Informations_ to him, as well as for other Uses; and though such Informations are sometimes dangerous, (especially to a Prince that will not take the pains necessary to digest them) yet in the main, that humour of _hearing every body against any body_, kept those about him in more awe, than they would have been without it. I do not believe that ever he trusted any Man, or any set of Men so entirely, as not to have some Secrets, in which they had _no share_: As this might make him less well served, so in same degree it might make him the less imposed upon.

You may reckon under this Article his _Female Ministry_; for though he had Ministers of the Council, Ministers of the Cabinet, and Ministers of the Ruelle; the Ruelle was often the _last Appeal_. Those who were not well there, were used because they were _necessary_ at the time, not because they were _liked_; so that their Tenure was a little uncertain. His Ministers were to administer Business to him as Doctors do Physick, wrap it up in something to make it _less unpleasant_; some skilful Digressions were so far from being Impertinent, that they could not many times fix him to a fair Audience without them. His _aversion to Formality_ made him dislike a _serious Discourse_, if very long, except it was mixed with something to _entertain_ him. Some even of the graver sort too, used to carry this very far, and rather than fail, use the coarsest kind of youthful talk.

In general, he was upon pretty _even Terms_ with his Ministers, and could as easily bear _their_ being _hanged_ as some of them could _his_ being _abused_.

V. _Of his_ WIT _and_ CONVERSATION.

His wit consisted chiefly in the _quickness_ of his _Apprehension_. His Apprehension made him _find Faults_, and that led him to short Sayings upon them, not always equal, but often very good.

By his being abroad, he contracted a Habit of conversing familiarly, which added to his natural Genius, made him very _apt to talk_; perhaps more than a very nice judgment would approve.

He was apter to make _broad Allusions_ upon any thing that gave the least occasion, than was altogether suitable with the very Good-breeding he shewed in most other things. The Company he kept whilst abroad, had so used him to that sort of Dialect, that he was so far from thinking it a Fault or an Indecency, that he made it a matter of Rallery upon those who could not prevail upon themselves to join in it. As a Man who hath a good Stomach loveth generally to talk of Meat, so in the vigour of his Age, he began that style, which by degrees grew so natural to him, that after he ceased to do it out of Pleasure, he continued to do it out of Custom. The Hypocrisy of the former Times inclined Men to think they could not shew too great an Aversion to it, and that helped to encourage this unbounded liberty of Talking, without the Restraints of Decency which were before observed. In his more familiar Conversations with the Ladies, even they must be passive, if they would not enter into it. How far Sounds as well as Objects may have their Effects to raise Inclination, might be an Argument to him to use that Style; or whether using Liberty at its full stretch, was not the general Inducement without any particular Motives to it.

The manner of that time of _telling Stories_, had drawn him into it; being commended at first for the Faculty of telling a Tale well, he might insensibly be betrayed to exercise it too often. Stories are dangerous in this, that the best expose a Man most, by being oftenest repeated. It might pass for an Evidence for the Moderns against the Ancients, that it is now wholly left off by all that have any pretence to be distinguished by their good Sense.

He had the Improvements of _Wine_, &c. which made him _pleasant_ and _easy in Company_; where he bore his part, and was acceptable even to those who had no other Design than to be merry with him.

The Thing called _Wit_, a Prince may taste, but it is dangerous for him to take too much of it; it hath Allurements which by refining his Thoughts, take off from their _dignity_, in applying them less to the governing part. There is a Charm in Wit, which a Prince must resist: and that to him was no easy matter; it was contesting with Nature upon Terms of Disadvantage.

His Wit was not so ill-natured as to put Men out of countenance. In the case of a King especially, it is more allowable to speak sharply _of_ them, than _to_ them.

His Wit was not acquired by _Reading_; that which he had above his original Stock by Nature, was from Company, in which he was very capable to observe. He could not so properly be said to have a Wit very much raised, as a plain, gaining, well-bred, recommending kind of Wit.

But of all Men that ever _liked_ those who _had Wit_, he could the best _endure_ those who had _none_. This leaneth more towards a Satire than a Compliment, in this respect, that he could not only suffer Impertinence, but at sometimes seemed to be pleased with it.

He encouraged some to talk a good deal more with him, than one would have expected from a Man of so good a Taste: He should rather have order'd his Attorney-General to prosecute them for a Misdemeanour, in using Common-sense so scurvily in his Presence. However, if this was a Fault, it is arrogant for any of his Subjects to object to it, since it would look like defying such a piece of Indulgence. He must in some degree loosen the Strength of his Wit, by his Condescension to talk with Men so very unequal to him. Wit must be used to some _Equality_, which may give it Exercise, or else it is apt either to languish, or to grow a little vulgar, by reigning amongst Men of a lower Size, where there is no Awe to keep a Man upon his _guard_.

It fell out rather by Accident than Choice, that his Mistresses were such as did not care that Wit of the best kind should have the Precedence in their Apartments. Sharp and strong Wit will not always be so held in by Good-manners, as not to be a little troublesome in a _Ruelle_. But wherever Impertinence hath Wit enough left to be thankful for being well used, it will not only be admitted, but kindly received; such Charms every thing hath that setteth us off by Comparison.

His _Affability_ was a Part, and perhaps not the least, of his Wit.

It is a Quality that must not always spring from the Heart, Mens Pride, as well as their Weakness, maketh them ready to be deceived by it: They are more ready to believe it a Homage paid to their Merit, than a Bait thrown out to deceive them. _Princes_ have a particular Advantage.

There was at first as much of Art as Nature in his Affability, but by Habit it became Natural. It is an Error of the better hand, but the _Universality_ taketh away a good deal of the Force of it. A Man that hath had a kind Look seconded with engaging Words, whilst he is chewing the Pleasure, if another in his Sight should be just received as kindly, that Equality would presently after the Relish: The Pride of Mankind will have Distinction; till at last it cometh to Smile for Smile, meaning nothing of either Side; without any kind of Effect; mere Drawing-room Compliments; the _Bow_ alone would be better without them. He was under some Disadvantages of this kind, that grew still in proportion as it came by Time to be more known, that there was less Signification in those Things than at first was thought.

The Familiarity of his Wit must needs have the Effect of _lessening_ the _Distance_ fit to be kept to him. The Freedom used to him whilst abroad, was retained by those who used it longer than either they ought to have kept it, or he have suffered it, and others by their Example learned to use the same. A King of _Spain_ that will say nothing but _Tiendro cuydado_, will, to the generality, preserve more Respect; an Engine that will speak but sometimes, at the same time that it will draw the Raillery of the Few who judge well, it will create Respect in the ill-judging Generality. Formality is sufficiently revenged upon the World for being so unreasonably laughed at; it is destroyed it is true, but it hath the spiteful Satisfaction of seeing every thing destroyed with it.

His fine Gentlemanship did him no Good, encouraged in it by being too much applauded.

His Wit was better suited to his Condition _before_ he was restored than _afterwards_. The Wit of a Gentleman, and that of a crowned Head, ought to be different things. As there is a _Crown Law_, there is a _Crown Wit_ too. To use it with Reserve is very good, and very rare. There is a Dignity in doing things _seldom_ even without any other Circumstance. Where Wit will run continually, the Spring is apt to fail; so that it groweth vulgar, and the more it is practiced, the more it is debased.

He was so good at finding out other Mens weak Sides, that it made him less intent to cure his own: That generally happeneth. It may be called a treacherous Talent, for it betrayeth a Man to forget to judge himself, by being so eager to censure others: This doth so misguide Men the first Part of their Lives, that the Habit of it is not easily recovered, when the greater Ripeness of their judgment inclineth them to look more into themselves than into other Men.

Men love to see themselves in the false Looking-glass of other Mens Failings. It maketh a Man think well of himself at the time, and by sending his Thoughts abroad to get Food for Laughing, they are less at leisure to see Faults at home. Men choose rather to make the War in another Country, than to keep all well at home.

VI. _His_ TALENTS, TEMPER, HABITS, _&c._

He had a _Mechanical Head_, which appeared in his Inclination to Shipping and Fortification, _&c._ This would make one conclude, that his Thoughts would naturally have been more fixed to Business, if his Pleasures had not drawn them away from it.

He had a very good _Memory_, though he would not always make equal good Use of it. So that if he had accustomed himself to direct his Faculties to his Business, I see no Reason why he might not have been a good deal Master of it. His Chain of _Memory_ was longer than his Chain of _Thought_; the first could bear any Burden, the other was tired by being carried on too long; it was fit to ride a Heat, but it had not Wind enough for a long Course.

A very great Memory often forgetteth how much Time is lost by repeating things of no Use. It was one Reason of his talking so much; since a great Memory will always have something to say, and will be discharging itself, whether in or out of Season, if a good Judgment doth not go along with it, to make it stop and turn. One might say of his Memory, that it was a _Beaute Journaliere_: Sometimes he would make shrewd Applications, _&c._ at others he would bring things out of it, that never deferred to be laid in it.

He grew by Age into a pretty exact _Distribution_ of his _Hours_, both for his Business, Pleasures, and the Exercise for his Health, of which he took as much care as could possibly consist with some Liberties he was resolved to indulge in himself. He walked by his Watch, and when he pulled it out to look upon it, skilful Men would make haste with what they had to say to him.

He was often retained in his _personal_ against his _politick_ Capacity. He would speak upon those Occasions most dexterously against himself; _Charles Stuart_ would be bribed against the _King_; and in the Distinction, he leaned more to his natural Self; than his Character would allow. He would not suffer himself to be so much fettered by his Character as was convenient; he was still starting out of it, the Power of Nature was too strong for the Dignity of his Calling, which generally yielded as often as there was a contest.

It was not the best use he made of his _Back-stairs_ to admit Men to bribe him against himself, to procure a Defalcation, help a lame Accountant to get off, or side with the Farmers against the Improvement of the Revenue. The King was made the Instrument to defraud the Crown, which is somewhat extraordinary.

That which might tempt him to it probably was, his finding that those about him so often took Money upon those Occasions; so that he thought he might do well at least to be a Partner. He did not take the Money to _hoard_ it; there were those at Court who watched those Times, as the _Spaniards_ do for the coming in of the _Plate Fleet_. The Beggars of both Sexes helped to empty his Cabinet, and to leave room in them for a new lading upon the next Occasion. These Negotiators played double with him too, when it was for their purpose so to do. He _knew it_, and _went on_ still; so he gained his present end, at the time, he was less solicitous to enquire into the Consequences.

He could not properly be said to be either _covetous_ or _liberal_; his desire to get was not with an Intention to be rich; and his spending was rather an Easiness in letting Money go, than any premeditated Thought for the Distribution of it. He would do as much to throw off the burden of a present Importunity, as he would to relieve a want.

When once the Aversion to bear Uneasiness taketh place in a Man's Mind, it doth so check all the Passions, that they are dampt into a kind of Indifference; they grow faint and languishing, and come to be subordinate to that fundamental Maxim, of not purchasing any thing at the price of a Difficulty. This made that he had as little Eagerness to oblige, as he had to hurt Men; the Motive of his giving Bounties was rather to make Men less uneasy to him, than more easy to themselves; and yet no ill-nature all this while. He would slide from an asking Face, and could guess very well. It was throwing a Man off from his Shoulders, that leaned upon them with his whole weight; so that the Party was not glader to receive, than he to give. It was a kind of implied bargain; though Men seldom kept it, being so apt to forget the advantage they had received, that they would presume the King would as little remember the good he had done them, so as to make it an Argument against their next Request.

This Principle of making the _love_ of _Ease_ exercise an entire Sovereignty in his thoughts, would have been less censured in a private Man, than might be in a Prince. The Consequence of it to the Publick changeth the Nature of that Quality, or else a Philosopher in his private Capacity might say a great deal to justify it. The truth is, a King is to be such a distinct Creature from a Man, that their Thoughts are to be put in quite a differing Shape, and it is such a disquieting task to reconcile them, that Princes might rather expect to be lamented than to be envied, for being in a Station that exposeth them, if they do not do more to answer Mens Expectations than human Nature will allow.

That Men have the less Ease for their loving it so much, is so far from a wonder, that it is a natural Consequence, especially in the case of a Prince. Ease is seldom got without some pains, but it is yet seldomer kept without them. He thought giving would make Men more easy to him, whereas he might have known it would certainly make them more troublesome.

When Men receive Benefits from Princes, they attribute less to his Generosity than to their own Deserts; so that in their own Opinion, their Merit cannot be bounded; by that mistaken Rule, it can as little be satisfied. They would take it for a diminution to have it circumscribed. Merit hath a Thirst upon it that can never be quenched by golden Showers. It is not only still ready, but greedy to receive more. This King _Charles_ found in as many Instances as any Prince that ever reigned, because the Easiness of Access introducing the good Success of their first Request, they were the more encouraged to repeat those Importunities, which had been more effectually stopt in the Beginning by a short and resolute Denial. But his Nature did not dispose him to that Method, it directed him rather to put off the troublesome Minute for the time, and that being his Inclination, he did not care to struggle with it.

I am of an Opinion, in which I am every Day more confirmed by Observation, that Gratitude is one of those things that cannot be bought. It must be born with Men, or else all the Obligations in the World will not create it. An outward Shew may be made to satisfy Decency, and to prevent Reproach; but a real Sense of a kind thing is a Gift of Nature, and never was, nor can be acquired.

The Love of Ease is an Opiate, it is pleasing for the time, quieteth the Spirits, but it hath its Effects that seldom fail to be most fatal. The immoderate Love of Ease maketh a Man's Mind pay a passive Obedience to any thing that happeneth: It reduceth the Thoughts from having _Desire_ to be _content_.

It must be allowed he had a little Over-balance on the well-natured Side, not Vigour enough to be earnest to do a kind Thing, much less to do a harsh one; but if a hard thing was done to another Man, he did not eat his Supper the worse for it. It was rather a Deadness than Severity of Nature, whether it proceeded from a Dissipation of Spirits, or by the Habit of Living in which he was engaged.

If a King should be born with more Tenderness than might suit with his Office, he would in time be hardned. The Faults of his Subjects make Severity so necessary, that by the frequent Occasions given to use it, it comes to be habitual, and by degrees the Resistance that Nature made at first groweth fainter, till at last it is in a manner quite extinguished.

In short, this Prince might more properly be said to have _Gifts_ than _Virtues_, as Affability, Easiness of Living, Inclinations to give, and to forgive: Qualities that flowed from his Nature rather than from his Virtue.

He had not more Application to any thing than the Preservation of his _Health_; it had an intire Preference to any thing else in his Thoughts, and he might be said without Aggravation to study that, with as little Intermission as any Man in the World. He understood it very well, only in this he failed, that he thought it was more reconcilable with his _Pleasures_, than it really was. It is natural to have such a Mind to reconcile these, that 'tis the easier for any Man that goeth about it, to be guilty of that Mistake.

This made him overdo in point of Nourishment, the better to furnish to those Entertainments; and then he thought by great _Exercise_ to make Amends, and to prevent the ill Effects of his Blood being too much raised. The Success he had in this Method, whilst he had Youth and Vigour to support him in it, encouraged him to continue it longer than Nature allowed. Age stealeth so insensibly upon us, that we do not think of suiting our way of Reasoning to the several Stages of Life; so insensibly that not being able to pitch upon any _precise Time_, when we cease to be young, we either flatter ourselves that we always continue to be so, or at least forget how much we are mistaken in it.

VII. CONCLUSION.

After all this, when some rough Strokes of the Pencil have made several Parts of the Picture look a little hard, it is a Justice that would be due to every Man, much more to a Prince, to make same Amends, and to reconcile Men as much as may be to it by the last finishing.

He had as good a Claim to a kind Interpretation as most Men. First as a _Prince_: living and dead, generous and well-bred Men will be gentle to them; next as an _unfortunate Prince_ in the beginning of his Time, and a _gentle_ one in the rest.

A Prince neither sharpened by his Misfortunes whilst Abroad, nor by his Power when restored, is such a shining Character, that it is a Reproach not to be so dazzled with it, as not to be able to see a Fault in its full Light. It would be a Scandal in this Case to have an exact Memory. And if all who are akin to his Vices, should mourn for him, never Prince would be better attended to his Grave. He is under the Protection of common Frailty, that must engage Men for their own sakes not to be too severe, where they themselves have so much to answer.

What therefore an angry Philosopher would call _Lewdness_, let frailer Men call a Warmth and Sweetness of the Blood, that would not be confined in the communicating itself; an over-flowing of Good-nature, of which he had such a Stream, that it would not be restrained within the Banks of a crabbed and unsociable Virtue.

If he had sometimes less _Firmness_ than might have been wished; let the kindest Reason be given, and if that should be wanting, the best Excuse. I would assign the Cause of it to be his loving at any rate to be _easy_, and his deserving the more to be indulged in it, by his desiring that every body else should be so.

If he sometimes let a _Servant fall_, let it be examined whether he did not _weigh_ so much upon his Master, as to give him a fair Excuse. That _Yieldingness_, whatever Foundations it might lay to the Disadvantage of Posterity, was a Specifick to preserve us in Peace for his own Time. If he loved too much to lie upon his own Down-bed of Ease, his Subjects had the Pleasure, during his Reign, of lolling and stretching upon theirs. As a Sword is sooner broken upon a Feather-bed than upon a Table, so his Pliantness broke the blow of a present Mischief much better than a more immediate Resistance would perhaps have done.

Ruin saw this, and therefore removed him first to make way for further Overturnings.

If _he dissembled_; let us remember, first, that he was a King, and that Dissimulation is a Jewel of the Crown; next, that it is very hard for a Man not to do sometimes too much of that, which he concludeth necessary for him to practice. Men should consider, that as there would be no false Dice, is there were no true ones, so if Dissembling is grown universal, it ceaseth to be soul play, having an implied Allowance by the general Practice. He that was so often forced to dissemble in his own Defence, might the better have the privilege sometimes to be the Aggressor, and to deal with Men at their own Weapon.

Subjects are apt to be as arbitrary in their _Censure_, as the most assuming Kings can be in their Power. If there might be matter for Objections, there is not less reason for Excuses; The Defects laid to his Charge, are such as may claim Indulgence from Mankind.

Should no body throw a Stone at his Faults but those who are free from them, there would be but a slender Shower.

What private Man will throw Stones at him because he _loved_? Or what Prince, because he _dissembled_?

If he either _trusted_, or _forgave_ his _Enemies_, or in some Cases _neglected_ his _Friends_, more than could in Strictness be allowed; let not those Errors be so arraigned as take away the Privilege that seemeth to be due to Princely Frailties. If Princes are under the Misfortune of being accused to govern ill, their Subjects have the less right to fall hard upon them, since they generally so little deserve to be governed well.

The truth is, the Calling of a King, with all its glittering, hath such an unreasonable weight upon it, that they may rather expect to be lamented, than to be envied; for being set upon a Pinacle, where they are exposed to Censure, if they do not do more to answer Mens Expectations, than corrupted Nature will allow.

It is but Justice therefore to this Prince, to give all due Softenings to the less shining Parts of his Life; to offer Flowers and Leaves to hide, instead of using Aggravations to expose them.

Let his Royal Allies than lie soft upon him, and cover him from harsh and unkind Censures; which though they should not be unjust, can never clear themselves from being indecent.

Political, Moral and Miscellaneous

Thoughts _and_ Reflections,

_By the Marquis of_ HALIFAX.

POLITICAL THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS.

_Of Fundamentals._

Every Party, when they find a Maxim for their turn, they presently call it a Fundamental, they think they nail it with a Peg of Iron, whereas in truth they only tie it with a wisp of Straw.

The word soundeth so well that the Impropriety of it hath been the less observed. But as weighty as the word appeareth, no Feather hath been more blown about in the World than this word, _Fundamental_.

It is one of those Mistakes that at sometimes may be of use, but it is a Mistake still.

Fundamental is used as Men use their Friends; commend them when they have need of them, and when they fall out, find a hundred Objections to them.

Fundamental is a Pedestal that Men set every thing upon that they would not have broken. It is a Nail every body would use to fix that which is good for them: for all Men would have that Principle to be immoveable, that serves their use at the time.

Every thing that is created is Mortal, _ergo_ all Fundamentals of human Creation will die.

A true Fundamental must be like the Foundation of a House; if it is undermined the whole House falleth.

The Fundamentals in Divinity have been changed in several Ages of the World.

They have made no difficulty in the several Councils, to destroy and excommunicate Men for asserting Things that at other Times were called Fundamentals.

Philosophy, Astronomy, _&c._ have changed their Fundamentals as the Men of Art no doubt called them at the time. Motion of the Earth, _&c._

Even in Morality one may more properly say, There _should be_ Fundamentals allowed, than that there _are_ any which in Strictness can be maintained.

However this is the least uncertain Foundation: Fundamental is less improperly applied here than any where else.

Wise and good Men will in all Ages stick to some Fundamentals, look upon them as sacred, and preserve an inviolable Respect for them; but Mankind in general make Morality a more malleable thing than it ought to be.

There is then no certain Fundamental but in _Nature_, and yet _there_ are Objections too. It is a Fundamental in Nature that the Son should not kill the Father, and yet the Senate of _Venice_ gave a Reward to a Son who brought in his Father's Head, according to a Proclamation.

_Salus Populi_ is an unwritten Law, yet that doth not hinder but that it is sometimes very visible; and as often as it is so, it supersedeth all other Laws which are subordinate Things compared.

The great Punishments upon Self-murder, are Arguments that it was rather a tempting Sin to be discouraged than an unnatural Act.

It is a Fundamental that where a Man intendeth no hurt he should receive none, yet Manslaughter, _&c._ are Cases of Mercy.

That a Boy under Ten shall not suffer Death, yet where _Malitia supplet aetatem_, otherwise.

That there were Witches--much shaken of late.

That the King is not to be deceived in his Grant--The practical Fundamental the contrary.

That what is given to God cannot be alienated. Yet in practice it is, Treaties, _&c._ and even by the Church itself, when they get a better bargain by it.

I can make no other Definition of a true Fundamental than this: _viz._ That whatever a Man hath a desire to do or to hinder, if he hath uncontested and irresistable Power to effect it, that he will certainly do it.

If he thinketh he hath that Power, though he hath it not, he will certainly go about it.