Chapter II

PARLIAMENTARY LIFE UNDER THE STUARTS; PAID MEMBERS.

The days of the Long Parliament were fruitful in frank out-of-door expressions of opinion under the rule of Charles I. and the Commonwealth; but, although political feelings were embittered, it does not appear that the franchise was exposed to any undue influence worth recording. A certain amount of governmental favour was reckoned of use in isolated instances; this patronage was considered safe to return nominees for such places as the Cinque Ports. But few election squibs, pure and simple, can be discovered before the Restoration. Ballads are less rare; these for the most part deal with the broader party relations, and are confined within discreet limitations, for “privilege of parliament” was rigorously enforced under Cromwell. On the disappearance of the Commonwealth, the spirits of the Cavalier wits and rhymsters revived, with all the more liveliness for their long-enforced repression. As an animated and characteristic example of the ballads produced at the close of the stern conventicle _régime_, we include the _jeux d’esprit_ written upon the moribund parliament, when it was no longer formidable,--dissolution having, for the time being, shorn its far-reaching and vengeful claws, while a changed head of the State had rendered its return to a lease of power extremely problematical. It is fair to say that, for the most part, the disappearance of this straight-laced and tyrannical House of Commons was hailed as a national relief: the theory of flying “to ills we know not of” had yet to be realized with the gradual development of the Merry Monarch’s selfish and ruinous system, the most iniquitous ever tolerated.

“A GENERAL SALE OF REBELLIOUS HOUSEHOLD STUFF.

“Rebellion hath broken up House,
And hath left some old Lumber to sell;
Come hither and take your choice--
I’ll promise to use you well.
Will you buy th’ old Speaker’s chair,
Which was warm and easy to sit in,
And oftentimes hath been made clean,
When as it was fouler than fitting?
Will you buy any Bacon-flitches
They’re the fattest that ever were spent;
They’re the sides of th’ old Committees
Fed up with th’ Long Parliament.
Here’s a pair of bellows and tongs,
And for a small matter I’ll sell ’em;
They’re made of the Presbyters’ lungs
To blow up the Coals of Rebellion.
Here’s the besom of Reformation,
Which should have made clean the floor;
But it swept the wealth out of the nation,
And left us dirt good store.
Here’s a roll of States tobacco
If any good fellow will take it;
It’s neither _Virginia_ nor _Spanish_,
But I’ll tell you how they do make it;
’Tis _Covenant_ mixt with _Engagement_,
With an _Abjuration Oath_;
And many of them that did take it,
Complain it is foul in th’ mouth.
A Lantern here is to be bought,
The like was scarce ever begotten,
For many a plot ’t has found out,
Before they ever were thought on.
Will you buy the _Rump’s_ great saddle
Which once did carry the nation?
And here’s the Bit and the Bridle,
And Curb of Dissimulation.
Here’s the Breeches of the _Rump_
With a fair dissembling cloak,
And a _Presbyterian_ Jump
With an _Independent_ Smock.
Here’s Oliver’s Brewing vessels,
And here’s his Dray and slings;
Here’s Hewson’s awl and his bristles,
With divers other odd things.
And what doth the price belong
To all these matters before ye?
I’ll sell them all for an old song,
And so I do end my story.”

From the pages of Pepys we are reminded that members of parliament were paid for their services up to Charles II.’s reign.

It might be expected that the secretary’s “Diary” would contain some pertinent observation upon elections; he has set down a good deal upon parliamentary matters that is curious and enlightening, but the diary ceases in May, 1669, and the more remarkable election contests commenced later.

Samuel Pepys was evidently as indifferent as were the courtiers of his day to the relatively vital importance of the Commons to the State. While accompanying the reforming member William Prynne, who had accused Sir G. Carteret of selling places,[4] from Whitehall to the Temple, the diarist in return for the hospitality of his coach, endeavoured to obtain some information by the way as to the manner of holding parliaments, and whether the number of knights and burgesses were always the same. To which Prynne replied--

“that the latter were not; but that, for aught he can find,
they were sent up at the discretion, at first of the Sheriffs,
to whom the writs were sent to send up generally the Burgesses
and citizens of their county, and he do find that heretofore
the Parliament-men, being paid by the country, several boroughs
have complained of the Sheriffs putting them to the charge of
sending up Burgesses.”

This conversation was in January, 1668; in March, Pepys describes his dining with certain counsel retained by creditors of the navy, the secretary having been to Cursitor Street to arrange assignments on the Exchequer to the tune of £1,250,000 in favour of these creditors. The counsel were pleased to flatter Mr. Secretary upon a recent performance of his in the Parliament House, and, finding himself with four learned lawyers, Pepys, with his dinner, enjoyed what he calls “a great deal of good discourse about parliament”--

“their number being uncertain, and always at the will of the
king to increase, as he saw reason to erect a new borough.
But all concluded the bane of the Parliament hath been the
leaving off the old custom of the places allowing wages to
those that served them in Parliament, by which they chose men
that understood their business and would attend it, and they
could expect an account from, which now they cannot, and so the
Parliament is become a company of men unable to give account
for the interest of the place they serve for.”

Andrew Marvell, member for Hull, who had enjoyed much experience of men and measures, found fit subject for satire among the corrupt comrades who now surrounded him in parliament.

“_C._ That traitors to th’ Country in a brib’d House of Commons
Should give away millions at every summons.

_W._ Yet some of those givers such beggarly villains
As not to be trusted for twice twenty shillings.

_C._ No wonder that beggars should still be for giving,
Who, out of what’s given, do get a good living.

_W._ Four Knights and a knave, who were burgesses made,
For selling their consciences were liberally paid.

_C._ How base are the souls of such low-priced sinners,
Who vote with the country for Drink and for Dinners.

_W._ ’Tis they that brought on us this scandalous yoke,
Of excising our cups, and taxing our smoke.

_C._ But thanks to the Harlots who made the King dogg’d,
For giving no more the Rogues are prorogued.”

(ANDREW MARVELL, 1674: _A Dialogue between Two Horses_.)

From his “good discourse on parliament,” Mr. Secretary Pepys, by a happy coincidence, straightway betook himself to that palace, where he had the privilege of being well received, and in which, under the Stuarts, more curious scenes were witnessed than falls to the lot of even the average of princely abodes:--

“Thence to Whitehall, where the Parliament was to wait on the
King, and they did: and he did think fit to tell them that they
might expect to be adjourned at Whitsuntide, and that they
might make haste to raise their money: but this, I fear, will
displease them, who did expect to sit as long as they pleased.”

A truly regal reception, and a most unceremonious mode of dismissing the “chosen of the people.” The wits of the day thus tersely summed up the situation of affairs:--

“I’ll have a long parliament always to friend,
And furnish my treasure as fast as I spend,
And if they will not, they shall have an end.”

(A. MARVELL: _Royal Resolutions_.)

Perhaps the most felicitous sallies were due to the pen of that gifted reprobate, the Earl of Rochester, at times the _alter ego_ of the Merry Monarch, but who finally, after enjoying boundless favour by diverting the king at his own royal expense as often as at that of his subjects, pointed a shaft with too galling a barb, and flitted away from a Court whose vileness he both exposed and shared in equally liberal measure:--

“A parliament of knaves and sots,
Members by name you must not mention,
He keeps in pay, and buys their votes;
Here with a place, there with a pension.
When to give money he can’t cologue ’um,
He doth with scorn prorogue, prorogue ’um.

But they long since, by too much giving,
Undid, betray’d, and sold the nation;
Making their memberships a living
Better than e’er was sequestration.
God give thee, Charles, a resolution
To damn the knaves by Dissolution.”

Later, Pepys is in conference with the king and the Duke of York (April, 1668) upon no less a subject than “about the Quakers not swearing, and how they do swear in the business of a late election of a Knight of the Shire of Hertfordshire in behalf of one they have a mind to have,” which diverts the monarch mightily.

We have seen how the juris-consultists who lived contemporaneously with the system of “paid members” considered the impartiality of representatives was protected from outside influences by the receipt of a small independence; later on we find that, owing to a dispute between the two Chambers, the impression was arrived at by the Peers that no salaried judges can be deemed impartial, and that hereditary legislators are the only reliable tribunals whence unimpeachable justice could be secured.

On a question of privilege between the Lords and Commons (May, 1668), when the latter took upon themselves to remedy an error of the Upper Chamber, Lord Anglesey informed the Commons that the Lords were “_Judices nati et Conciliarii nati_, but all other Judges among us are under salary, and the Commons themselves served for wages; and therefore the Lords, in reason, were the freer Judges.”

The circumstance of receiving a salary does not appear to have compromised the independence of members, but to the contrary, as they were thus enabled to keep their honesty the purer, by resisting the venal attacks of the Court. The integrity of members seems to have suffered when their fees were no longer recognized. The “Pensioner Parliament” came into existence precisely at the epoch when representatives remitted “their wages;” a significant circumstance, but indicative of the times; when selfishness usurped the place of patriotism, members sacrificed the modest retainers designed to keep them honest, that they might be the less fettered to bargain in their own interests.

“The senate, which should head-strong Princes stay,
Let’s loose the reins, and gives the Realm away;
With lavish hands they constant tributes give,
And annual stipends for their guilt receive.”

(ANDREW MARVELL: _An Historical Poem_.)

The proverbial incorruptibility of Andrew Marvell is a case in point. This example of a true patriot is erroneously said to have been the last member who received wages from his constituents. He died in 1678, M.P. for Hull.[5] Others, his contemporaries, maintained the right, and suffered their arrears to accumulate, as a cheap resource at the next election. Marvell more than once, in his correspondence, speaks of members threatening to sue their boroughs for pay.[6] Lord Braybrooke, in his notes to Pepys’s “Diary,” refers to a case, noticed by Lord Campbell in his “Life of Lord Nottingham,” where the M.P. for Harwich, in 1681, petitioned the Lord Chancellor, as that borough had failed “to pay him his wages.” A writ was issued “De expensis Burgensium levandis.” Lord Campbell adds, “For this point of the People’s Charter [payment of wages] no new law is required.”[7]

Pepys’s later allusions concern the constantly threatened dissolutions; in November, 1668, he records, “The great discourse now is that the Parliament shall be dissolved and another called, which shall give the King the Dean and Chapter’s lands, and that will put him out of debt,” concluding with a hint that the subtle and “brisk” Duke of Buckingham, at that time the actual ruler of the kingdom, “does knowingly meet daily with Wildman and other Commonwealth-men,” the while deceiving Charles into the belief that his intrigues were of a more tender nature.

At Whitehall, the same month, Pepys acquires some fresh and rather significant information upon the subject of the Commons; it is imparted to him that--

“it was not yet resolved whether the Parliament should ever
meet more or no, the three great rulers of things now standing
thus:--The Duke of Buckingham[8] is absolutely against their
meeting, as moved thereto by his people that he advises with,
the people of the late times, who do never expect to have
anything done by this Parliament for their religion, and who
do propose that, by the sale of the Church lands, they shall
be able to put the King out of debt: my Lord Keeper is utterly
against putting away this and choosing another Parliament,
lest they prove worse than this, and will make all the King’s
friends, and the King himself, in a desperate condition:
my Lord Arlington [being under suspicion, owing to his
mismanagement of money in Ireland] knows not which is best for
him, being to seek whether this or the next will use him worse.
It was told me that he believes that it is intended to call
this Parliament, and try them for a sum of money; and, if they
do not like it, then to send them going, and call another, who
will, at the ruin of the Church perhaps, please the King with
what he will have for a time.”

These passages need no comment, the accepted ideas upon representative government under the House of Stuart were such as to fill constitutional minds with amazement. This view is endorsed by a popular ballad of the day:--

“Would you our sov’reign disabuse,
And make his parliament of use,
Not to be chang’d like dirty shoes?
This is the time.”

The inconsistency of the king’s behaviour, and the triviality of his mind--when applied to matters of business, and especially that of parliament--is happily held up to ridicule by one of his contemporary wits, who has thus parodied the expected speech from the throne:--

“HIS MAJESTY’S MOST GRACIOUS SPEECH TO BOTH HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT.

”MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,

“I told you at our last meeting the Winter was the fittest time
for business; and truly I thought so, till my Lord Treasurer
assured me the Spring was the best season for salads and
subsidies: I hope, therefore, that April will not prove so
unnatural a month as not to afford some kind showers on my
parched Exchequer, which gapes for want of them. Some of you
perhaps will think it dangerous to make me too rich; but I do
not fear it, for I promise you faithfully whatever you give me
I will always want; and altho’ in other things my word may be
thought a slender authority, yet in that you may rely upon me,
I will never break it.

“My Lords and Gentlemen, I can bear my straits with patience;
but my Lord Treasurer does protest to me, that the Revenue,
as it now stands, will not serve him and me too; one of us
must pinch for it if you do not help me. I must speak freely
to you, I am under circumstances, for, besides my Harlots on
service, my reformado Concubines lie heavy upon me. I have a
passable good estate, I confess; but, Gads-fish, I have a great
charge upon’t. Here’s my Lord Treasurer can tell, that all the
money design’d for the next summer’s guards must of necessity
be apply’d to the next year’s cradles and swaddling clothes.
What shall we do for ships then? I hint this only to you, it
being your business, not mine. I know by experience I can live
without ships; I liv’d ten years abroad without, and never had
my health better in my life; but how you will be without I
leave to yourselves to judge, and therefore hint this only by
the by; I don’t insist upon it. There’s another thing I must
press more earnestly, and that is this. It seems a good part of
my revenue will expire in two or three years, except you will
be pleased to continue it. I have to say for’t, Pray why did
you give me so much as you have done, unless you resolve to
give on as fast as I call for it? The nation hates you already
for giving so much, and I will hate you too if you do not give
me more; so that if you stick not to me, you must not have
a friend in England. On the other hand, if you will give me
the revenue I desire, I shall be able to do those things for
your Religion and Liberty that I have had long in my thoughts,
but cannot effect them without a little more money to carry
me through. Therefore look to’t, and take Notice that if you
do not make me rich enough to undo you, it shall lie at your
doors, for my part I wash my hands on’t. But that I may gain
your good opinion the best way is to acquaint you what I have
done to deserve it out of my royal care for your religion and
your property. For the first, my proclamation is a true picture
of my mind: he that cannot, as in a glass, see my zeal for the
Church of England, does not deserve any farther satisfaction,
for I declare him wilful, abominable, and not good. Some may
perhaps be startled, and cry--how comes this sudden change?
To which I answer I am a changeling, and that’s sufficient,
I think. But to convince men farther that I mean what I say,
there are these arguments. _First_, I tell you so, and you
know I never break my word. _Secondly_, my Lord Treasurer says
so, and he never told a lie in his life. _Thirdly_, my Lord
Lauderdale will undertake it for me, and I should be loth by
any act of mine he should forfeit the credit he has with you.

* * * * *

“I must now acquaint you, that by my Lord Treasurer’s Advice,
I have made a considerable retrenchment upon my expenses in
Candles and Charcoal, and do not intend to stop there, but
will, with your help, look into the late embezzlements of my
dripping-pans and kitchen stuff; of which, by the way, upon my
conscience, neither my Lord Treasurer nor my Lord Lauderdale
are guilty. I tell you my opinion, but if you should find them
dabbling in that business, I tell you plainly I leave ’em to
you; for I would have the world know I am not a man to be
cheated.

“My Lords and Gentlemen, I desire you to believe me as you
have found me; and I do solemnly promise you, that whatsoever
you give me shall be specially manag’d with the same conduct,
trust, sincerity, and prudence, that I have ever practised
since my happy Restoration.”

The commencement of party warfare as now recognized in parliamentary life may be dated from the Stuarts, and to account for the designations of Whig and Tory it is necessary to glance back at the parliamentary troubles of Charles II., 1679-1680, when that monarch, acting under the encouragement of Louis XIV., was inclined to make a misguided attempt to govern without a legislative chamber. In 1679 the monarch refused a Speaker to his Commons, finding that functionary obnoxious; and between this date and 1681 parliament was prorogued seven times: in fact--as a summary of Charles II.’s parliaments discloses--the discords of the previous reign were revived; the “town and country party” petitioned zealously for the reassembling of parliament, while the Court party counter-petitioned “to declare their _abhorrence_ of the late tumultuary petitioning.” Those who were urging on the struggle for popular representation and freedom were designated _Petitioners_, the king’s “friends” were voted “betrayers of the liberties of the people, and abettors of arbitrary power,” and expressively stigmatized as _Abhorrers_;[9] from these two parties, which were ready to exterminate one another, arose the nicknames of Whigs and Tories, as is explained in Tindal’s “Rapin.”[10]

The “Abhorrers,” who were the mainstay of Charles’s utterly unconstitutional procedure, although as courtiers they hoped for their reward from the king, did not get much tolerance from the Commons: when the parliament at last reassembled, several members were expelled from the House on this pretence alone, and they consigned to the Tower that Sir Francis Withers who had been knighted for procuring and presenting the loyal address from the city of Westminster; the majority at the same time recording, as a gage of battle to their opponents, the resolution (October, 1680), “That it is the undoubted right of the subject to petition for the calling of a parliament, and that to traduce such petitions as tumultuous and seditious is to contribute to the design of altering the constitution.” The Tories at that time and long after maintained the doctrines of “divine hereditary indefeasible right, lineal succession, passive obedience, prerogative, etc.”

That a determined attitude was felt to be fitting is exhibited in the protests of the House, printed for circulation, like the following:--

“Wednesday, October 27, 1680.

“Two Unanimous votes of this present Honourable and Worthy
Parliament concerning the subjects’ rights in Petitioning.

“_Resolved, Nemine Contradicente_,--

That it is and ever hath been the undoubted Right of the
subjects of England to petition the King for calling and
sitting of parliaments, and redressing of Grievances.

“_Resolved, Nemine Contradicente_,--

That to traduce such Petitioning is a violation of duty, and
to represent it to his Majesty as Traitorous and seditious, is
to betray the Liberty of the Subjects, and contributes to the
design of subverting the ancient, legal Constitution of this
Kingdom, and the Introducing Arbitrary Power.

“_Ordered_--That a Committee be appointed to enquire of all
those Persons as have offended against these Rights of the
subject.

“London: Printed for Francis Smith, Bookseller, at the Elephant
and Castle, near the Royal Exchange in Cornhill.”

Francis Smith was the publisher--

“who suffered a Chargeable Imprisonment in the Gaol of Newgate,
in December last, for printing and promoting Petitions for the
Sitting of this present Parliament.”

He is referred to with acrimony in the ballads by Tantivy and courtier bards, among the “pestiferous crew of republican scribes.”

Charles’s first parliament was, amid the confusion of the time (the revolution subverted and royalty restored), barely constituted; it lasted from April 25, 1660, to December 29th, and, being assembled without the king’s writ, was, with customary royal ingratitude for “past favours,” considered by Charles as the _Convention_ Parliament.[11] The long _Cavalier Parliament_, some portion of which, like the king, was in the pay of Louis XIV., is stigmatized to posterity as the “Pensionary” Parliament; it met May 8, 1661, and lasted until January 24, 1679; the members were doubly corrupt, accepting money-bribes or lucrative offices from the Court, or being, according to Barillon’s clear declarations, in the pay of France and Holland, as regarded the patriotic members, who fiercely denounced the venality of the Court. In 1675 the oath against bribery was opportunely inaugurated, providing against corruption either from the Crown or from any ambassador or foreign minister. The Pensionary Parliament, which began its career by servile loyalty, and was merciless against Republicans, towards its close opposing the unreasonable extension of prerogative became factious and insubordinate, arrogating to itself the control of legal procedure, and, according to the opinions of extreme Royalists, generally proving itself a “scourge.”

The popular view of this venal legislature is given in the following version:--

“A PENSIONER PARLIAMENT:

ANSWER TO THE BALLAD CALLED ‘THE CHEQUER INN.’

“I.

“Curse on such representatives!
They sell us all, our bairns and wives,
(Quoth Dick with indignation);
They are but engines to raise tax,
And the whole business of their acts
Is to undo the nation.

“II.

“Just like our rotten pump at home,
We pour in water when ’twon’t come,
And that way get more out,
So when mine host does money lack,
He money gives among the pack,
And then it runs full spout.

“III.

“By wise Volk, I have oft been told,
Parliaments grow nought as they grow old,
We groan’d under the Rump,
But sure this is a heavier curse,
That sucks and drains thus ev’ry purse,
By this old Whitehall pump.”

Another warning note is struck in the following ballad, aimed at the reprobated Pensionary Parliament:--

“THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE TO BE LET.

“1678.

“Here’s a House to be let,
For Charles Stuart swore
By Portsmouth’s honour
He would shut up the door.

“Enquire at the Lodgings
Next door to the pope,
At Duke Lauderdale’s head
With a cravat of Rope,

“And there you will hear
How next he will let it,
If you pay the old price
You may certainly get it.

“He holds it in-tail
From his Father, who fast
Did keep it long shut,
But paid for’t at last.”

Charles II.’s third, or _Habeas Corpus_ Parliament, showed a determination to exceed its predecessor in opposing the Court, and seemed ambitious of imitating that of 1640, the reminiscences of which were still of a portentous character, and filled with dread as regarded the survivors of those uncompromising times:--

“The _Habeas Corpus_ act is past,
And so far we are safe;
He can’t imprison us so fast,
But straight we have relief;
He can’t deny us aught we ask,
In so much need he stands;
And before that we do money give,
We’ll tie up both his hands.”

Charles very naturally found this parliament beyond his control, so it was prorogued May 27, 1679, to the 14th of August, but dissolved on the 10th of July. The whole country was in commotion during August and September in electioneering contests, preparing for the fourth parliament. It is to be regretted that electioneering broadsides have, as a rule, been allowed to perish; they would prove a mine of curious information.

The following is a pertinent allusion to the eventualities of the “poll:”--

“But most men did think
He had not so much chink,
Nor could pay for the poll of the County,
And therefore did fear
It would cost them too dear
Should they accept of his Bounty.”

(_The Worcestershire Ballad._)

The opprobrious terms of Whigs and Tories were freely exchanged. Here is a Whig’s view of the “king’s men:”--

“As Rascals changing rags for scarlet coats,
Cudgell’d before, set up to cut Whig throats.”

The wit lay rather with the Cavaliers, though it must be confessed their opponents had the best of the argument when reasoning on facts.

The definition of the nickname _Tory_, as it originally arose, is given in “A New Ballad” (Narcissus Luttrell’s Collection):--

“The word _Tory’s_ of Irish Extraction,
’Tis a Legacy that they have left here,
They came here in their brogues,
And have acted like Rogues,
In endeavouring to learn us to Swear.”

By way of answer, the Tories exulted in their loyalty:--

“Let Tories guard the King,
Let Whigs on halters swing.”

The Court party denounced--

“Visions, Seditions,
And railing Petitions.”

The designs of the various factions were thus summed up:--

“Sir Tom would hang the _Tory_,
And let the _Whig_ go free:
Sir Bob would have a Commonwealth
And cry down Monarchy.”

The Tories retaliated upon their antagonists with interest, though they feared the zealots not a little, as the following ballad illustrates:--

“What! Still _ye Whigs_ uneasie!
Will nothing cool your brain,
Unless Great _Charles_, to please ye,
Will let _ye_ drive his Wain?
That _Peer-less_ House of Commons,
So zealous for the Lord,
Meant (piously) with some on’s
To flesh the Godly sword.”

(_A Tory in a Whig’s Coat._)

One of the most popular “counter-blasts” to the Whig pretensions is embodied in the following parody, which enjoyed considerable favour, though not equal to Andrew Marvell’s diatribes “on the other side:”--

“A LITANY FROM GENEVA,

IN ANSWER TO A LITANY FROM ST. OMER.

“From the force and the fire of th’ Insolent Rabble
That would hurl the Government into a Babel,
And from the nice fare of the Mouse-starver’s table,
_Libera nos Domine_.

“From a surfeit occasion’d by Protestant feasts
From Sedition for sauce, and Republicks for guests,
With Treason for Grace-cup, or Faction at least,
_Libera nos_.

“From the blind Zeal of all Democratical tools,
From Whigland, and all its Anarchical rules,
Devisèd by knaves and imposèd by fools.
_Libera nos._

“From Parliamentarians, that out of their Love
And care for his Majesty’s safety, would prove
The securest way were his Guards to remove.
_Libera nos._

“From a Protestant Church where a Papist must reign,
From an Oxford Parliament call’d in vain,
Who because Fitz-Harris the plot would make plain,
Was dissolv’d in a fit and sent home again.
_Libera nos._”

The newly elected parliament, the materials of which were equally unpalatable to the Court party, was summoned to meet in October, 1679, but, prorogued during the royal pleasure, it did not actually meet until October 21, 1680. The interval was marked by the presentation of loyal addresses and petitions for its reassembling. Further prorogued on the 10th of January, it was dissolved on the 18th, to be followed by the “Oxford Parliament” of eight days, which was dissolved on March 28, 1681. The nation saw itself on the verge of civil war, and, remembering what it had suffered--while opposing the encroachments of the Crown and autocratic exactions--from the opposite extremes of anarchy and fanaticism, the people were resigned to temporize, and thus Charles was allowed to rule without a parliament until his death.

The following satire is well-founded, and pertinent to the prevalent state of affairs:--

“THE STATESMAN’S ALMANACK.

Being an excellent new Ballad, in which the qualities of each
month are considered, whereby it appears that a parliament
cannot meet in any of the old months; with a proposal for
mending the Calendar. Humbly offered to the packers of the next
parliament,”

--which, as it fell out, never reassembled during the reign of the Merry Monarch. The rhymster, after rehearsing the sufficient reasons why every month, from January to December, is unfitted, according to the royal inclinations, for the assembling of a parliament, concludes with a prayer by way of--