Chapter XXV (1)

This great hurling match, although much spoken of before it came off, was so universally believed to be a mere amicable, a _bona-fide_ piece of holiday recreation, and not an ostensible excuse for the ulterior purposes of Ribbonism, or a fight, that no precautions had been deemed necessary by the police to detect the one or to prevent the other. The sub-inspector (then called chief constables) had merely reported the fact that it would take place to the _resident_ magistrate--_lucus à non_. But "in the absence of sworn informations" of an intended row, he would neither attend himself, nor give orders for the police to do so, leaving the responsibility, if such existed, entirely to the judgment and discretion of the chief in question; who, wishing to enjoy the day otherwise himself, was satisfied with the report he had made, and did not interfere by his own presence or that of his men with the game. Thus, as "in the absence of sworn informations" the resident magistrate would not attend, and in the absence of the resident magistrate the chief would not attend, Rathcash and Shanvilla had it all to themselves. Perhaps it was so best for the _denouement_ of this story; for had the police been present, the whole thing from that point might have ended very differently.

But although it had not been thought necessary that a police-party should put a stop to the day's sport on the common, it is not to be supposed that they could hear of a man "having been murdered" on the occasion without being instantly all zeal and activity. Like the three black crows, the real fact had been exaggerated, and so distorted as to frighten both the chief and the resident magistrate, but principally the latter, as the intended assembly had been reported to him. However, "better late than never." They heard that the man was not yet dead, and away they started on the same jarvey, to visit him, on the morning after the occurrence.

Their whole discussion during the drive--if an explanation by the magistrate could be called a discussion--was on the safest and the most legal method of taking a dying man's depositions, and wondering if he knew who struck the fatal blow in this instance, and if the police had him in custody, etc.

They soon arrived at the house, but saw no sign of a crowd, or of police, whom the chief would have backed at any odds to have met on the road with a prisoner.

"Is he still alive?" whispered the resident magistrate to the father, who came to the door.

"Oh yes, your honor, blessed be God! an' will soon be as well as ever," he replied. "It was a mere scratch, an' there won't be a haporth on him in a day or two. He wanted to go back to look at them dancin', but I kep' him lying on the bed."

"Does he know you?" said the magistrate, believing that the man wanted to make light of it, as is generally the case.

"Does he know me, is it? athen why wouldn't he know his own father?"

"Oh, he is sensible, then?"

"Arrah, why wouldn't he be sensible? the boy was never anything else."

{824}

"That's right. Does he know who struck the blow?"

"Ochone, doesn't every one know that, your honor? Sure, wasn't it Tom Murdock? an' isn't his heart bruck about it?"

Here the constable and two men of the nearest police station came up at the "double" wiping their faces, to make inquiries for report; so that they were not so remiss after all, for it was still early in the morning.

Old Lennon was annoyed at all this parade and show about the place, and continued, "Athen, your honor, what do ye's all want here, an' these gentlemen?" inclining his head toward the police; "sure there's nothing the matther."

"We heard the man was killed," said the chief.

"And we heard the same thing not an hour ago," said the constable.

"Arrah, God give ye sinse, gentlemen! Go home, an' don't be making a show of our little place. I tell you there's not a pin's-worth upon the boy, and the tip he did get was all accidents."

"I must see him nevertheless, my good man; and you need not be uncivil, at all events."

"I ax your honor's pardon; I didn't mane it. To be sure you can see him; but there's no harm done, and what harm was done was an accident. Sure Emon will tell you the whole thing how it was himself."

"That is the very thing I want Let me see him."

Lennon then led the way into the room where Emon was sitting up in the bed; for he had heard the buzz of the discussion outside, and caught some of its meaning.

Lennon took care "to draw" the police into the kitchen; for there was nothing annoyed him more--and that, he knew, would annoy his son--than that they should be seen about the place. He had taken his cue from Emon, who did not wish the matter to be made a blowing-horn of.

A very few words with the young man sufficed to show the magistrate and the chief that their discussion upon the subject of taking a dying man's deposition had been unnecessary in this instance, however profitable it might prove on some future occasion. Emon, except that his bead was still tied with a handkerchief, showed no symptom whatever of having received an injury. He cheerfully explained how the matter had happened, untied the handkerchief promptly at the request of the magistrate, and showed him "the tip," as he called it, he had received from Tom Murdock's hurl. There was no mystery or hesitation in Emon's manner of describing the matter. Murdock himself had been the very first to admit and to apologize for the accident; and they did not wish that any fuss should be made about it As to prosecuting him for the blow, which had been casually asked, he might as well think of prosecuting a man who had accidentally jostled him in the street.

All this was a great relief to the magistrate, who at once took the sensible view of the case, and said he was delighted to find that the whole matter had been exaggerated both as to facts and extent, and congratulated both himself and the police upon this happy termination to their zeal.

The magistrate then spoke of the propriety of "the doctor" seeing young Lennon, saying that these sort of "tips" sometimes, required medical care, and occasionally turned out more serious than might at first be anticipated. But Emon told him that Father Farrell, who was an experienced doctor himself, had examined the wound, and declared that it would not signify.

The fact was that the magistrate, in his justifiable fright, had on the first report of the "murder" sent off four miles for the dispensary doctor, in case "the man might not be yet dead," and he expected his arrival every moment, as the point at which his valuable aid would be required was plainly to be explained to him by the messenger.

{825}

Finding that matters were much less serious than rumor had made them, and perceiving that the Lennons were far from gratified at the exhibition already made, he was not anxious that it should appear he had sent for the doctor to raise, as it were, young Lennon from the dead. He was therefore determined to watch his approach, and to pretend he was passing by on other business, and that it was as well to bring him in. But the doctor had not been at home when the messenger called; he had been at a _real_ case--not of murder, but of birth; and the magistrate and chief could not now await his arrival without awkwardness for the delay.

The magistrate was annoyed; but the chief soon set him to rights by telling him that the doctor could not come there except by the road by which they should go home, and that if on his way they must meet him, and so they did--_powdhering_ on his pony, truly as if for life or death.

"I suppose it is all over, and that I am late," he said, pulling up.

"No, you are time enough," said the chief. "It is nothing but a scratch, and was a mere accident."

"And there is nothing then for me to do," said the doctor.

"Nothing but to go _'bock again'_ like the Scotchman."

"No trepanning, nor 'post-mortem,' doctor," added the R.M. He was a droll fellow, was the R.M.

It was a great satisfaction to each of these officials, as they secretly considered their positions in this affair, that no person had been seriously hurt, and that the slight injury which had really taken place was entirely accidental. The R.M. felt relieved upon the grounds that the intended assembly had been officially reported to him and that he had declined to attend, or to give any directions to the chief to use any precautions to preserve the peace. But then he reconciled himself with the burthen of his excuse upon all such occasions, that, "in the absence of sworn informations," he would have been safe under any circumstances. Still he was better pleased as it was.

The chief was relieved, because he had some idea that having reported the intended assembly to the resident magistrate might have been deemed insufficient, had a real homicide taken place, and that he should upon his own responsibility have had a party of police in attendance. These officials were therefore both ready to accept, without much suspicion, the statement of young Lennon, that the blow was purely accidental, and that the consequence would be of a trifling nature. But they were "dark" to each other as to the grounds upon which their satisfaction rested.

The doctor finding that there was no chance of earning a fee from the coroner, turned his horse's head round and followed the car at a much easier pace than he had met it. He of all the officials--for he was constab. doc--was least gratified with the favorable position of affairs. He had not only started without his own breakfast, but had brought his horse out without a feed; and they had galloped four miles upon two empty stomachs. No wonder that he was dissatisfied as compared with the magistrate and the chief. But we must recollect that there was no responsibility upon him, beyond his skill involved in the affair; with its origin, or the fact of its having been permitted to occur at all, he had nothing to do. There were, therefore, no points of congratulation for him to muse upon, and he was vexed accordingly. From his experience of himself in the treatment of broken heads in the district, he had no doubt that his attendance would have "ended in recovery," and that at least three pounds would have come down, "approved" by the government upon the chiefs report, which would be much better than the coroner's one-pound note. The disappointment had completely taken away his own hunger, but he forgot that his horse did not understand these things, so he grumbled slowly home.

{826}

A contemplative silence of some minutes ensued between the two executives on the car, which was ultimately broken by the magistrate. He, like the doctor, had had no breakfast, so certain was he of a murder; but the whole thing being a bottle of smoke, he was now both hungry and cross. It was the chiefs car they were on, and he was driving--the R.M. "knocked that much out of him, at all events"--so there was no driver to damp the familiarity of conversation.

"It was fortunate for you, my young friend, that nothing more serious occurred at this same hurling match," said the magistrate.

(Certainly he was no prig in his choice of language. He was of course much older than the chief and considered that he could carry a high hand with "a mere boy" without any experience.)

"I am extremely glad," replied the chief, "for _both_ our sakes, that it was a mere trifle and an accident."

"For both our sakes! Oh, you know, my dear young friend, that, in the absence of sworn informations, I was not concerned in the matter at all. I conceive that the whole responsibility--if there be any--in a mere casual meeting of the kind, where there is admittedly no apprehension of a breach of the peace, rests entirely upon your own judgment and discretion. To be plain with you, except where a breach of the peace may be fairly anticipated, and sworn informations lodged to that effect, I do not think the magistrate's time should be interfered with. I might have lost a petty-sessions to-day, inquiring into a mere accident."

"But it might not have been one; and we could not have known until we saw the injured man and made inquiries. But the absence of sworn informations, and the fact that there was no apprehension of a row, would have exonerated me from all blame as well as you. Beside, I so far took the precaution of reporting the intended assembly to you, with its professed object, and I took your instructions upon the subject."

"No, you didn't; for I did not give you any."

"Well, I reported the meeting to you, and asked for instructions."

"That is the very thing which I object to--making reports without sufficient grounds. I should decline to act again under similar circumstances."

"That you would do so, I have no doubt; but that you _should_ do so, I have some."

"I am right, young sir, as well in my grammar as in my view of the case; _ought_ is the word you _should_ have used, to have properly expressed what you intended."

The chief was nettled. He was not quite certain that the R.M. was not right, and merely replied:

"Perhaps so, sir; but it really was not of _Lindley Murray_ I was thinking at the time."

The magistrate was softened. He felt that he had been sparring rather sharply with a lad not much more than one-third of his age.

"Well, I really beg your pardon," he said; "I did not intend to be so sharp."

"Granted," said the chief, laughing; for he was not an ill-tempered fellow. "But here we are at my box; come in and have some breakfast, and I'll drive you to petty-sessions after."

"Thank you very much, I'll take breakfast; for I came away in a horrid fuss without saying a word as to when I should be back again. I will not trespass upon you, however, to do more than you have already done in the driving way. I had some fears when we started that we should have breakfasted at dinner, some time this evening, after a coroner's inquest. But this is better."

They then gave "the trap" to the "private orderly," and proceeded to punish the tea, toast, eggs, and cold ham in a most exemplary manner.

TO BE CONTINUED.

------

{827}

Translated from Etudes Religieuses, Historiques et Littéraires, par des Pères de la Compagnie de Jésus.

THE LAST EFFORT OF CHARLES II. FOR THE EMANCIPATION OF THE CATHOLICS OF ENGLAND.

We have already seen what fruit grew from the mission of Father James Stuart to Whitehall; how the Duke of York and, in all probability, King Charles also, abjured the Protestant faith; and how the royal neophyte, in the presence of his brother and his trusty counsellors, Arundel, Clifford, and Arlington, declared his readiness to suffer anything, to undertake any enterprise, in order to secure liberty of worship for himself and his Catholic subjects.

The king knew that his conversion would arouse violent opposition, would perhaps become a signal for revolt and civil war. He felt that he could do nothing without the assistance of the King of France. To secure his aid he secretly dispatched to Versailles Lord Arundel of Wardour and Sir Richard Bellings, the same prudent ambassador whom he had formerly dispatched to Pope Alexander VII. Out of this embassy resulted the treaty of Dover and the offensive alliance of France and England against Holland. Up to the present time an impenetrable veil has concealed from us the real object of this treaty, and the details of the negotiations which led to it. Charles has been almost universally accused of submitting himself to a disgraceful vassalage to the French monarch, and of selling to the Bourbon for money the glory, the liberty, and the religion of his country. But the unexpected disclosures of the diplomatic archives now enable us to shed a new light upon this subject, and to ascertain whether Charles was really moved by religions impulse when he asked Louis XIV. for assistance in the reestablishment of Catholicism in England, or was, as Lingard says, all the while trying to deceive his royal ally.

Lord Arundel had already been discussing the "Catholic project" for nine months with the French king before Louis' minister, Colbert, was let into the secret. Colbert de Croissy, the minister's brother and French ambassador to London, was now made acquainted with Arundel's propositions and Louis' answers to them, and on the 12th of November, 1669, had an interview with Charles, of which he gives the following account:

"The King of England was ready to assure me that he had no
unwillingness to make me acquainted with the most important secret
of his life. . . . In reading these papers, I could not help
thinking that he and the persons to whom he had intrusted the
conduct of this matter, were mad to think of re-establishing the
Catholic religion in England. In fact, no one acquainted with the
state of this kingdom and the disposition of the people could
entertain a different opinion; but, in spite of all, he hoped that,
with your majesty's assistance, the great enterprise would be
successful. The Presbyterians and other dissenters are still more
averse to the Anglican Church than to the Catholic. All that these
sectaries want is the free exercise of their own form of worship;
and provided they get that--and his majesty purposes to give it
them--they will not oppose his change of religion. Moreover, he has
good troops who are affectionately disposed toward him; and if the
late king, his father, {828} had had as many, he would have stifled
in their cradle the disturbances which prayed his ruin. He will
increase the army on the best pretexts that he can find. The
arsenals are all at his disposal and are well stocked. He is assured
of the principal places of England and Scotland. The governor of
Hull is a Catholic; those of Portsmouth, Plymouth, and many other
places which he named to me--Windsor among the rest--would never
depart from the obedience which they owe him. As for the troops in
Ireland, he hopes that the Duke of Ormond, who has preserved great
credit there, will always be faithful to him; and even should he
fail in his duty, Lord Orrery, who is a Catholic at heart, and has
still greater influence with that army, will lead the soldiers
wherever he is ordered. . . . . Finally, he told me that he was
driven to declare himself a Catholic both by his conscience and by
the confusion which he saw daily increasing in his kingdom, to the
detriment of his authority; and that, beside the spiritual benefit
which he trusted to obtain, he believed that this was the only means
of establishing the monarchy." (_Letter of Nov._13, 1669.)

But English writers maintain that, behind all this apparent zeal, Charles concealed an ulterior design, and wished to impose upon Louis for his own ends. There would be some plausibility in the supposition if the conversion of England had been a matter so near to the heart of the French king as is commonly imagined; but, unfortunately, it is now evident that "the Catholic project" filled only a secondary place in Louis XIV.'s policy. The object which then employed his chief desires was the humiliation of Holland; and the more eager he was to secure the cooperation of England in this enterprise, the less anxious was he for a sudden return of the royal family of Whitehall to the ancient faith--a change in which his penetrating eye saw grave danger to Charles and, by consequence, disappointment to himself. He writes in reply to Croissy's letter: "I will not commence a war with Holland, unless the King of England join me;" and the ambassador is instructed to look upon the Dutch question as the most important affair in hand. (_Letter of November_ 24, 1669.)

Charles, too, had his plan, and to our thinking a very good one. Colbert writes, December 5:

"Arlington tells me that the king his master, having weighed all the
reasons for and against, has finally determined to begin by
satisfying his conscience. He adds, nevertheless, that the king may
change his mind; but I see plainly that he will not advise him to do
so; for he is persuaded that his royal master, having Spain, Sweden,
and Holland attached to his interests, and assured at the same time
of your majesty's friendship by a secret treaty, will overpower all
the seditions that might be excited in the kingdom by such a
declaration much more easily than by the way your majesty advises.
Moreover, I do not find him very hot against the Dutch; and I
confess, sire, that I am still doubtful whether the proposition to
attack them, conjointly with your majesty, after the declaration of
Catholicism shall have been successfully made, is sincere, at all
events on the minister's part."

A few days afterward the draft of a treaty was sent by Arlington to the Marquis de Croissy, in which occurred these words: "The King of Great Britain, after having declared himself a Catholic, . . . leaves to the most Christian king liberty to designate the time for making war, with their united forces, upon the States General."

Louis, on his part, ordered Colbert to stand firm: "It would be well for you not to allow Lord Arlington and the others to hope that I will ever consent to what you propose in the last place, that the treaty of war against Holland should be laid aside, {829} and that we should agree only upon the two other points; thus the desire which they feel for assistance in money and troops toward the declaration of Catholicism, which is what they are most anxious about, may induce them to further more zealously than they do now the project for a war against Holland." (_Letter of Feb_. 16, 1670.)

The negotiation dragged along slowly. Disputed points became more and more numerous; and the effect of all these difficulties and delays upon such a timid soul as Charles's may easily be imagined. As the time for openly breaking with Anglicanism drew near, the obstacles in his way seemed to grow more formidable than ever. His resolution was not shaken; but his religious ardor gradually cooled, and human prudence overcame his faith. This change of disposition was observed by Colbert de Croissy, but does not seem to have alarmed him. He writes, on the 15th of May, 1670:

"The king has not yet determined when to make his declaration,
notwithstanding the urgency of those to whom he has confided his
secret. M. Bellings informs me that the commissioners themselves are
not agreed about the time; some advising that it be before the
meeting of parliament, and others wishing the declaration to be made
in full assembly of the two houses; that the King of England appears
to favor the latter plan, because it affords more time for delay;
and moreover that it cannot be later than October next, which is the
time for the re-adjournment. I can see that the precautions which
his majesty has taken are not sufficient. The troops in Scotland and
Ireland are nearly all Presbyterians, with whom the concession of
freedom of worship will weigh as nothing in the scale with their
hatred of the Catholics. Even the captain of the royal guard, who
belongs to this party, will probably be opposed to the execution of
his royal master's design. In fine, those who are in the secret are
greatly alarmed at all these dangers. _They cannot alter the kind's
resolution_; but a sort of libertinism (if I may use the word) makes
him procrastinate as much as he can."

But Louis XIV. was prepared with an instrument for overcoming all the difficulties which Charles threw in his way. The amiable Duchess of Orleans, the beloved sister of the English monarch, crossed the Channel for no other purpose than to bring her brother's hesitation to an end. "All the points of the treaty," says Mignet, "had been agreed upon by both sides before this interview. Madame had therefore no questions to negotiate with her brother; but Louis XIV. relied greatly upon her influence in inducing Charles II. to sign the treaty, to advance the exchange of ratifications, and, what was of the utmost consequence to him, to declare war against Holland before declaring himself a Catholic." On the 30th of May, five days after the arrival of Henrietta, the French ambassador wrote to his court: "Madame tells me that she has made an impression upon her brother's mind, and she can see that he is almost disposed to declare war against the Dutch before doing anything else." On the 1st of June, 1670, Arlington, Arundel, Clifford, and Bellings, on the part of England, and Colbert de Croissy on the part of France, affixed their signatures to the celebrated treaty of Dover. If the text contains no mention of the modification obtained by the young duchess, the reason undoubtedly is, that, to avoid the delay which would have ensued had a new draft been made out, the two sovereigns instructed their commissioners to sign it in its present form, with a verbal clause, guaranteed by Charles's word of honor, that the war against Holland should precede the formal acknowledgment of the king's conversion.

Such was the mysterious journey of Henrietta of England upon which Bossuet has conferred so much undeserved celebrity. {830} When, only twenty-seven days afterward, the unfortunate duchess in the midst of her vain triumph was overtaken by the pangs of death, it may be doubted whether the recollection of her zeal for the postponement of her brother's conversion soothed her conscience or alleviated for her the terrors of divine judgment.

The Duke of York always looked upon the war with Holland as an unfortunate complication which frustrated the re-establishment of the Catholic worship in England. In this part of the treaty of Dover he beheld the first and perhaps the most dangerous of the rocks among which the Stuart dynasty ultimately foundered and disappeared for ever. Charles at first looked at things from a more assuring point of view. A letter to his sister, the duchess, dated June 6, 1669, shows him full of hope, almost of enthusiasm, at the thought of this expedition. The English navy was to take a brilliant revenge for the insult received a short while before, when the Dutch flag waved insolently under the walls of affrighted London. He himself, associated with Louis in glory and good fortune, was finally to triumph over the disasters of his family, and to enjoy for the rest of his days the blessings he so ardently desired, liberty of conscience and peace upon the throne. But these alluring dreams were even then disturbed by presentiments and uneasiness too well founded to escape his penetrating mind. If he yielded after a year's resistance, it was through weakness and weariness, not through conviction.

In concluding this portion of our article, it is not amiss to inquire what purpose Charles could have had in view in attempting "to deceive the King of France." To be sure, surrounded as he was at home by difficulties and dangers without number, he was compelled to look abroad for assistance and protection. But if he had consulted only his worldly interests, if he had not been inspired by religious motives, where would he naturally have sought for aid? Certainly he would have turned toward the Protestant, not the Catholic, states. His natural allies would have been warlike Sweden and rich and powerful Holland, whose last stadtholder, William II., had espoused a princess of the house of Stuart, Charles's own sister Mary. Nothing was more popular at that time, throughout Great Britain, than the triple alliance. Why should he break it? Why should the son of Charles I., overcoming the unpleasant recollections of his former sojourn at Paris, have so far offended the instincts and prejudices of his people as to offer the hand of fellowship and brotherhood to Louis XIV., and intrust to him his destinies?

A parallel naturally suggests itself here between the two kings; and perhaps if we had to assign their respective places we should not give the preference to the abler or the more powerful. Louis, still young and engrossed, heart and soul, in his projects of greatness and magnificence, was guilty of the grave wrong of making religion entirely subordinate to politics. Charles, no doubt, shows himself through the course of these negotiations just what he always was. Too sagacious not to see the dangers into which each step conducted him, and too timid to confront them; now urged forward by the impatient zeal of the Duke of York, now drawn back by his minister and confidant Arlington--one hardly knows what he wanted to do. His frivolity, his inconstancy, his perpetual wavering, his disingenuousness, all the chief traits of his character, in fine, were displayed in these negotiations of Dover. We are not disposed to deny that he was sensible of the temporal advantages which the friendship of his brother of France seemed to promise him; but, taking all things into consideration, it is he that shows the greater heart, and with him the calculations of selfish humanity are sometimes at least forgotten in the sovereign importance of his eternal interests.

{831}

The treaty of Dover concluded, Charles secretly made preparations for the war with Holland, which had now been deferred to a more distant day; but there were other preparations in which he took a much more lively interest. He knew that a terrible storm would break forth whenever he should issue his bill of indulgence in favor of those who disagreed with the state Church. Both French and English writers have often said that the king hoped to accomplish his plans by means of abuse of the royal prerogatives, and unconstitutional measures taken under the protection of that ambitious neighbor across the channel whom the Stuarts had rashly allowed to interfere in the affairs of the United Kingdom. But this is a mistake. Without the slightest violence or transgression of the law, Charles might have anticipated by two hundred years the emancipation of the Catholics of England. The constitution gave him no right to change any of the existing laws; but it gave him power to dispense with the exaction of the penalties prescribed for their violation. Well, he proposed to make use of this prerogative in behalf of all dissenters without exception, whether Protestant sectaries or Catholics, and whenever a fitting opportunity arrived to lay before parliament a new bill of indulgence.

On the 15th of March, 1672, two days before the declaration of war with Holland, he issued a proclamation, in which, after remarking that the experience of twelve years had proved the inutility of coercive measures in matters of conscience, he declared his good pleasure that every penal law against nonconformists and recusants of every description should thenceforth be suspended. Dissenters were authorized to establish places of worship; but Catholics were not permitted to assemble for religious exercises except in private houses. This discrimination against the Catholics was the doing of the Secretary Bridgman, who stoutly refused to sign the document, and threatened to resign, if the same privileges granted to other recusants were also accorded to the Catholics. Bridgman's resignation would have given the alarm to the hostile parties; so, to avoid a greater evil, Charles had to submit to this odious restriction.

There was a diversity of opinions about the declaration of the 15th of March, but at first there was nothing in the state of public opinion to excite alarm. As for the war, if the people looked upon it without much favor, at least no one could assert that it was contrary to the national interests. There were recent injuries to be avenged, glory and profit to be won; above all, immense advantages to accrue to English commerce from the crippling of one of its most formidable rivals: all these considerations kept the minds of the nation in suspense.

But unfortunately one naval engagement after another was fought with no decisive results; and while the French gained brilliant victories on land, the English seemed to be only humble, docile instruments in the hands of their allies. The Protestants eagerly seized upon these circumstances to arouse an undertone of discontent among the masses. The Duchess of York had just died a Catholic. The Duke of York, the heir presumptive to the throne, was strongly suspected of having embraced the Catholic religion. Then there was England in league with Catholic France against Protestant Holland; and the little army which Charles had sent to the continent, though placed under the command of Schomburg, a Calvinist (but for all that a Frenchman), had among its subordinate officers a major-general, Fitzgerald, and many other Catholics. All these things, they said, taken in connection with the recent declaration, boded nothing but evil to the Reformed churches.

Such was the state of public feeling when, after a recess of two years, parliament opened at the beginning of February, 1673. In the troubles {832} which he saw were coming, the king relied for assistance in the houses principally upon Clifford, whom he had appointed a lord of the treasury, and the Chancellor Ashley, recently created Earl of Shaftesbury, a man of no principle, but of great ability and value in critical emergencies. At the opening of the session Charles spoke of the French alliance, of the causes of his rupture with the States General, and of the declaration of indulgence, which he declared himself resolved to stand by.

The opposition had already matured their plan of campaign, and their first measure was to deprive the Catholics of their new allies by persuading the dissenting sects to renounce the precarious advantages of the declaration for the toleration, less complete, perhaps, but more assured, which they would infallibly obtain from the favorable dispositions of the Commons. The manoeuvre was perfectly successful. The Catholics were completely isolated. The "Country Party," as they called themselves, then opened fire with more confidence in Parliament. "The attack was made," says Macaulay, "not in the way of storm, but by slow and scientific approaches. The Commons at first held out hopes that they would give support to the king's foreign policy, but insisted that he should purchase that support by abandoning his whole system of domestic policy. Their first object was to obtain the revocation of the declaration of indulgence. Of all the many unpopular steps taken by the government, the most unpopular was the publishing of this declaration." In fact, the annulment of the edict was a matter of life or death for the Protestants. They wanted, however, a constitutional argument, and they had not far to look for one. We quote Macaulay again:

"It must in candor be admitted that the constitutional question was not then quite free from obscurity. Our ancient kings had undoubtedly claimed and exercised the right of suspending the operation of penal laws. The tribunals had recognized that right. Parliaments had suffered it to pass unchallenged. That some such right was inherent in the crown, few even of the Country Party ventured, in the face of precedent and authority, to deny. Yet it was clear that, if this prerogative were without limit the English government could scarcely be distinguished from a pure despotism." A hypocritical fear of despotism and inviolable respect for the law were to be the standard under which the dissenters should fight, and it was agreed that the Anglicans should intrench themselves behind the ramparts of the constitution.

The opposition in parliament did not disapprove of toleration in itself; they only blamed the form of the edict. They were perfectly willing to alleviate the condition of the Protestant nonconformists, provided it could be done through the regular parliamentary channels. Even if the king could remit a penalty, he could not suspend a law in ecclesiastical, any more than in civil, matters. In support of this position they argued at great length, with a good deal of passion and obscurity and a great lack of common sense, for more than a month. The real strength of the party lay in its popularity, and in that irresistible power which the daring aggressors of a declining monarchy always possess, in every country. The partizans of the court, by their injudicious defence of the crown, did their best to aid the opposite party. Instead of defending the prerogative by the precedents afforded by previous reigns, they grounded its exercise upon the necessity for some _ad interim_ power which, during the recess of parliament, might act upon urgent cases, and, if need were, suspend the laws. "An exempting power," they said, "must of necessity exist somewhere; otherwise cases may arise, when parliament is not in session, in which the welfare and even the safety of the state would be sacrificed to impolitic and unreasonable {833} fears." This was playing directly into their adversaries' hands. After long discussions, several times interrupted by adjournments, the House of Commons, by a vote of 168 against 116, resolved "that the penal laws touching ecclesiastical matters could not be suspended except by an act of parliament."

In replying to the message of the Commons, Charles declared himself deeply concerned that they should question the ecclesiastical authority of the crown, which had never been contested during the reigns of his ancestors. He certainly pretended to no authority to suspend any law touching the property, rights, and liberties of his subjects. His only object in the exercise of his ecclesiastical power was the relief of the dissenters. He was not disposed to reject the advice of parliament, and would always be found ready to agree to any bill which might seem better adapted than his declaration to accomplish the chief object which he had in view--the welfare of all his subjects, and the tranquillity and stability of England. This moderate language did not satisfy the house. A second address admonished the sovereign that his counsellors had deceived him, and that none of his ancestors had ever claimed or exercised the power of suspending statutes touching ecclesiastical matters; and his faithful Commons implored his majesty to give them a more satisfactory and complete answer. The king felt the insult, and did not conceal his resentment. His course was chosen. He would dissolve parliament, rather than submit to the dictation of his enemies. But he hoped to subdue the opposition by exciting a conflict of opinion between the two houses. He went to the House of Lords, and in a short and spirited address complained that the Commons usurped the royal authority, laid before their lordships the two addresses from the lower house, with his replies, and concluded by asking the advice of the hereditary counsellors of the throne. Clifford followed, and pleaded with his accustomed fire and energy the cause of offended majesty. But the spirit of defection had spread even among the chiefs of the government. The chancellor went over to the enemy. "Shaftesbury," says Macaulay, "with his proverbial sagacity, saw that a violent reaction was at hand, and that all things were tending toward a crisis resembling that of 1640. He was determined that such a crisis should not find him in the situation of Strafford. He therefore turned suddenly round, and acknowledged in the House of Lords that the declaration was illegal." A month had not passed since, in another place, Ashley had appealed to the justice of his fellow-subjects against the adversaries of the edict of toleration. The lords made haste to follow the example of the prudent chancellor. Ten years before they had solemnly declared their opinion that Charles II. had received from the English people a legitimate mission to establish liberty of conscience; to-day, after maturely considering the royal motion, they resolved "that the proposal of his majesty to settle the dispute by parliamentary ways was a good and gracious answer."

The disapprobation of the Upper House filled the timid monarch with consternation. Three days afterward Colbert presented himself* as the bearer of officious advice from Louis XIV. The King of France felt but little regret at the turn affairs were taking with his new allies; for the Commons, who, in order to overthrow more surely the royal plan, proposed to demolish it slowly, piece by piece, had not uttered a single murmur against the French alliance or the war. Not only that, but with a calculating shrewdness they had offered the king a compensation for the sacrifices which they demanded of him, and granted a subsidy of £1,260,000 sterling, destined to be expended in more vigorously pushing forward hostile operations on land and sea. Pleased with these favorable {834} dispositions, Louis XIV. represented to his brother of England the sad consequences of a rupture with parliament. The wisest course was to submit to necessity. At the return of peace, when Louis would have troops and money to spare, he would place both at the service of the Stuarts, and it would then be easy to repair these temporary misfortunes. Charles listened willingly to the ambassador. The offers of money he did not refuse; but as for the assistance of French troops, he declared that he would never use them against his subjects, unless a Second civil war should reduce him to the very last extremity, as it had reduced his father. The same day, in council with his ministers, he withdrew his edict of toleration; and the next morning, the 8th of March, he annulled it again, in presence of the Lords and Commons, promising that it should never serve as a precedent. The royal communication was received with acclamations of joy, and at night innumerable bonfires illuminated the streets and squares of the capital.

The opposition party had received an impetus in its course, and it needed a stronger arm than that of a Stuart to check it. The House of Commons was already discussing its famous test bill, by the provisions of which every Englishman holding any civil or military office was required to take an oath of allegiance and subscribe to the royal supremacy; he was to receive the sacrament according to the rites of the Established Church, and to sign a declaration against transubstantiation; and the penalty for violation of this law was a fine of £500 sterling, and disqualification from filling any public function or dignity whatsoever, from prosecuting any cause before the courts, from acting as guardian or testamentary executor, or receiving any legacy or deed of gift. Together with the test bill another was introduced for the relief of the Protestant nonconformists. The former passed quickly through both houses, and became that odious law which England kept upon her statute-books until far into the present century. As for the other bill, all the well-known arts of parliamentary tricksters were brought to bear upon it. It was postponed; it was amended again and again; it was thrown out; it was brought in again. At last the end of the session found it effectually killed; and, despite the insidious promises which had effected a division among the several victims of the Anglican episcopacy, no new act was passed with regard to the dissenters.

In a single day the test act deprived the Catholic cause of all its defenders. The Duke of York, who, as lord high admiral, directed the operations of the combined fleets of England and France, resigned his command and his commission. Clifford, though a new convert, laid down the white rod. All the Catholic officials, governors, magistrates, naval and military officers, retired at once. One only--who had been bold enough to praise the bill in the House of Lords as a wise and opportune measure--was exempted from taking the test oath and branded with the disgrace of a national recompense. This was the same Earl of Bristol whom the Bishop of Salisbury had regarded as the inspirer of those popish tendencies which he boasted of having detected under Charles's dissimulation.

There was none of the cabinet whose fidelity Charles could now trust. Shaftesbury had betrayed him; and it seemed certain that Buckingham, Arlington, and Lauderdale were secretly in league with the chief agitators. In return for their services parliament granted them complete impunity for the past by freely condoning all the offences committed previous to the 25th of March.

Thus the isolation of the king at home was complete. Louis XIV. was still left him, but he was soon to lose even this last support. At the beginning of 1674 the French alliance offered only very doubtful advantages. On the continent the war had assumed the proportions of a conflict of all Europe, and Montecuculli, seconded by {835} the Prince of Orange, what successfully against the genius of Turenne. On the sea, Prince Rupert, the successor of the Duke of York, with ninety-ships of the line, had gained not a single notable advantage, though he ought to have swept all the Dutch fleets before him. As Lingard says, he was too intimately allied with the opposition party to be very eager for a victory which would have given the ascendency to their adversaries. Finally, the Commons manifested, from the opening of the new session, a decided unwillingness to vote a subsidy. Charles listened, therefore, to the proposals of the allied powers, and, of his own accord, without asking the consent of "his suzerain" (as Macaulay charges), concluded a special peace on the most honorable conditions. "Necessity forbade him any longer to assist France as an ally," he said to Louis' ambassador; "but he hoped to be able to serve his good brother as a mediator between him and his enemies."

Thus all Charles's plans were overthrown, and England was delivered for two centuries from the twin misfortunes against which she struggled with equal energy--a French alliance and the inroads of Popery.

Under the enormous pressure brought to bear upon him the unhappy king, deserted by all his auxiliaries and all his friends, gave way, and tried to stifle the voice of conscience. No doubt he is gravely to blame when he receives the sacrament in the Protestant chapels of his palace, and urges the Duke of York to imitate his unworthy weakness, when he renews the protestations--which nobody believes--of his firm adhesion to Anglicanism. He is inexcusable for his apostacy. But that these criminal actions were not incompatible with a sincere resolve to return to the Roman Catholic Church, and that one can trace in Charles's conduct a plan seriously conceived and for three years perseveringly followed, to establish freedom of Catholic worship throughout the United Kingdom--these are the points which we have endeavored to prove. We are not without hope that we have shed some light upon an important series of events, which for two centuries have been enveloped, through the bad faith of historians, in an obscurity that until now the keenest glance has failed to pierce.

------

From The Month.

SAINTS OF THE DESERT.

BY THE REV. J. H. NEWMAN, D.D.

1. A careless brother said to Abbot Antony, "Pray for me."

The old man made answer: I shall not pity thee, nor will the Highest, unless thou hast pity on thyself, and makest prayer to God.

2. Abbot Arsenius used to say: I have often had to repent of speaking; never of keeping silence.

3. Abbot Theodore said: If God impute to us our negligences when we pray, and our distractions' when we sing, we cannot be saved.

4. Abbot Pastor said: One man is at rest and prays; another is sick and gives thanks; a third ministers cheerfully to them both.

They are three; but their work and their merit is one.

{836}

5. A brother said to Abbot Sisoi: "What must I do to keep my heart?"

The old man made answer: Look to your tongue first, for it is nearest to the door.

6. Abbot Abraham said: Passions live even in the saints here below; but they are chained.

7. Abbot John said to his brother, "I do not like working; I wish to be in peace, and to serve God without break, like an angel;" and he set off to the desert.

In a week's time he returned, and knocked at his brother's door, saying, "I am John."

His brother answered, "No, you are not; for John is an angel." He insisted, "Yes, but I am John."

His brother opened to him, saying, "If you are a man, why don't you work? If you are an angel, what do you knock for?"

------

From Chambers's Journal.

LITTLE THINGS.

Often, little things we hear,
Often, little things we see.
Waken thoughts that long have slept,
Deep down in our memory.

Strangely slight the circumstance
That has force to turn the mind,
Backward on the path of years,
To the loved scenes far behind!

'Tis the perfume of a flower.
Or a quaint, old-fashioned tune;
Or a song-bird 'mid the leaves.
Singing in the sunny June.

'Tis the evening star, mayhap.
In the gloaming silver bright;
Or a gold and purple cloud
Waning in the western light.

'Tis the rustling of a dress.
Or a certain tone of voice,
That can make the pulses throb.
That can bid the heart rejoice.

Ah, my heart! But not of joy
Must alone thy history tell.
Sorrow, shame, and bitter tears
Little things recall as well.

------ {837}

From The Month.

THE POEMS OF ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. [Footnote 147]

[Footnote 147: "Legends and Lyrics." By Adelaide Anne Procter. With
an Introduction by Charles Dickens. New edition, with additions.
Illustrated by W.T.C. Dobson, A.B.A., Samuel Palmer, J. Tenniel,
George H. Thomas, Lorenz Fröhlich, W. H. Millais, G. du Maurier.
W.P. Burton, J.D. Watson, Charles Keene, J.M. Carrick, M.E. Edward,
T. Morten. (Bell & Daldy.) "A Chaplet of Verses." (Longman.)]

The appearance of the beautiful edition of Miss Procter's poems lately issued among the Christmas gift-books of the season forms a fitting occasion for some remarks upon the special character and genius of the authoress whose verses are inscribed upon its delicately-toned pages. Of both the first and second series of Miss Procters "Legends and Lyrics" numerous editions have been called for by the public: they are now collected into a quarto, illustrated by many excellent artists, and are prefaced by a slight biographical introduction from the pen of Mr. Charles Dickens, who, being intimately acquainted with Miss Procter's family, had known her from her early girlhood, and entertained for her the truest admiration and the most cordial esteem.

In attempting an analysis of Miss Procter's poetry, we may well preface it by a few words concerning her life and character, because these were the roots of her verse. To speak of the dead is at all times a sacred thing, demanding heedful words and careful justice. To speak of the beloved dead is always a doubly difficult task, requiring a specially sober modesty of expression, even while giving some scope to that instinctive power of true appreciation which affection best insures. The writer of these pages knew and loved her long and well; and in so far is qualified to speak of what she was: yet of a nature which was all womanly, and which retained to its last earthly moments a singular charm of childlike playfulness and innocence--having been, as it were, at all times sheltered from life's rougher experiences--it is not quite easy so to speak as to bring out a distinctive image to those who knew it not.