Chapter II: Second Section (2)

"Being now in anarchy, without a counselling and governing power, and the Army, I suppose, finding themselves insufficient to discharge at once both military and civil affairs, the first thing to be found out with all speed, without which no Commonwealth can subsist, must be a SENATE or GENERAL COUNCIL OF STATE, in whom must be the power first to preserve the public peace, next the commerce with foreign nations, and lastly to raise moneys for the management of these affairs. This must either be the [Rump] Parliament readmitted to sit, or a Council of State allowed of by the Army, since they only now have the power. The terms to be stood on are _Liberty of Conscience to all professing Scripture to be the Rule of their Faith and Worship_ and the _Abjuration of a Single Person_. If the [Rump] Parliament be again thought on, to salve honour on both sides, the well-affected party of the City and the Congregated Churches may be induced to mediate by public addresses and brotherly beseechings; which, if there be that saintship among us which is talked of, ought to be of highest and undeniable persuasion to reconcilement. If the Parliament be thought well dissolved, _as not complying fully to grant Liberty of Conscience, and the necessary consequence thereof, the Removal of a forced Maintenance from Ministers_ [Milton's own sole dissatisfaction with the Restored Rump], then must the Army forthwith choose a Council of State, whereof as many to be of the Parliament as are undoubtedly affected to these two conditions proposed. That which I conceive only able to cement and unite the Army either to the Parliament recalled or this chosen Council must be a mutual League and Oath, private or public, not to desert one another till death: that is to say that the Army be kept up and all these Officers in their places during life, and so likewise the Parliament or Councillors of State; which will be no way unjust, considering their known merits on either side, in Council or in Field, unless any be found false to any of these two principles, or otherwise personally criminous in the judgment of both parties. If such a union as this be not accepted on the Army's part, be confident there is a Single Person underneath. That the Army be upheld the necessity of our affairs and factions will [at any rate] constrain long enough perhaps to content the longest liver in the Army. And whether the Civil Government be an annual Democracy or a perpetual Aristocracy is not to me a consideration for the extremities wherein we are, and the hazard of our safety from our common enemy, gaping at present to devour us. That it be not an Oligarchy, or the Faction of a few, may be easily prevented by the numbers of their own choosing who may be found infallibly constant to those two conditions forenamed--full Liberty of Conscience and the Abjuration of Monarchy proposed; and the well-ordered Committees of their faithfullest adherents in every county may give this Government the resemblance and effects of a perfect Democracy. As for the Reformation of Laws and the Places of Judicature, whether to be here, as at present, or in every county, as hath been long aimed at, and many such proposals tending no doubt to public good, they may be considered in due time, when we are past these pernicious pangs, in a hopeful way of health and firm constitution. But, unless these things which I have above proposed, one way or other, be once settled, in my fear (which God avert!), we instantly ruin, or at best become the servants of one or other Single Person, the secret author and fomenter of these disturbances."

There is considerable boldness in these proposals of Milton, and yet a cast of practicality which is unusual with him. They prove again, if new proof were needed, that he was not a Republican of the conventional sort. He glances, indeed, at the possibility of an "Annual Democracy," i.e. a future succession of annual Parliaments, or at least of annual Plebiscites for electing the Government. But he rather dismisses that possibility from his calculations; and moreover, even had he entertained it farther, we know that the Parliaments or Plebiscites he would have allowed would not have been "full and free," but only guarded representations of the "well-affected" of the community,--to wit, the Commonwealth's-men. But the Constitution to which he looks forward with most confidence, and which he ventures to think might answer all the purposes of a perfect democracy, is one that should consist of two perpetual or life aristocracies at the centre,--one a civil aristocracy in the form of a largish Council of State, the other a military aristocracy composed of the great Army Officers,--these two aristocracies to be pledged to each other by oath, and sworn also to the two great principles of Liberty of Conscience and resistance to any attempt at Single Person sovereignty. What communication between the Central Government so constituted and the body of the People might be necessary for the free play of opinion might be sufficiently kept up, he hints, by the machinery of County Committees. The entire scheme may seem strange to those whose theory of a Republic refuses the very imagination of an aristocracy or of perpetuity of power in the same hands; but both, notions, and especially that of perpetuity of power in the same hands, had been growing on Milton, and were not inconsistent with _his_ theory of a Republic. Nor was his present scheme, with all its strangeness, the least practical of the many "models" that theorists were putting forth. It would, doubtless, have failed in the trial,--for the conception of a perpetual Civil Council at Whitehall always in harmony with a perpetual Military Council in Wallingford House presupposed moral conditions in both bodies less likely to be forthcoming in themselves than in Milton's thoughts about them. But everything else would have failed equally, and some of the "models" perhaps more speedily. Since the subversion of Richard's Protectorate by Fleetwood and Desborough there had been no possible stop-gap against the return of the Stuarts.

The consulting authorities at Whitehall and Wallingford House did adopt a course having some semblance of that suggested by Milton. Before the 25th of October, or within six days after the date of Milton's letter, the relics of the Council of State of the Rump agreed to be transformed, with additions nominated by the Officers, into the new Supreme Executive called _The Committee of Safety_; and, as _The Wallingford-House Council of Officers_ still continued to sit in the close vicinity of this new Council at Whitehall, the Government was then vested, in fact, in the two aristocracies, with Fleetwood, Lambert, Desborough, Berry, and others, as members of both, and connecting links between them. But the new _Committee of Safety_ was not such a Senate or Council as Milton had imagined. For one thing, it consisted but of twenty-three persons (see the list ante p. 494), whereas Milton would have probably liked to see a Council of twice that size or even larger. For another, it was not composed of persons perfectly sound on Milton's two proposed fundamentals of Liberty of Conscience and Abjuration of any Single Person. Vane, to be sure, was on the Committee, and a host in himself for both principles; and there were others, such as Salway and Ludlow, that would not flinch on either. But Whitlocke, Sydenham, and the majority, were but moderately for Liberty of Conscience, and certainly utterly against that Miltonic interpretation of it which implied Church-disestablishment, while one at least, the Scottish Johnstone of Warriston, was positively against Liberty of Conscience beyond very narrow Presbyterian limits. Nor, though probably all would have assented at that time to an oath abjuring Charles Stuart, were they all without taint of the Single Person heresy in other forms. Some of them, including Whitlocke and Berry, would have liked to restore Richard; and Fleetwood and Lambert were not wrongly suspected of seeing the most desirable Single Person every morning in the looking-glass. Milton's former regard for Fleetwood must have suffered considerably by recent events; and he thought of Lambert as the very "Achan" to be dreaded. But, farther, even had the two aristocracies been of perfectly satisfactory composition, they had abandoned that idea of their own permanence which Milton had made all but essential. They had agreed that their chief work should consist in shaping out a fit constitution for the Commonwealth, and that the _Committee of Safety_ should continue in power only till that should be done and the new Constitution should come into operation.

Such as it was, the new Government of the Wallingford-House Interruption had no objection to retaining Mr. Milton in the Latin Secretaryship if he cared to keep it. That he had held the post throughout the whole of the Government of the Restored Rump (though all but in sinecure, as we must conclude from the cessation of the series of his Latin Letters in the preceding May) appears from a very interesting document in the Record Office. The Council of State of the Rump, it is to be remembered, had not vanished with the Rump itself on Oct. 13, but had sat on for twelve days more, though with its number reduced by the secession of Hasilrig, Scott, Neville, and other very vehement Rumpers,--the object being to maintain the continuity of the public business and to make the most amicable arrangement possible with the Army-officers. That object having been accomplished by the institution, of the new _Committee of Safety_, the Council of the Rump, before demitting its powers to this new body, which was to meet on the 28th of October, held its own last meeting at Whitehall on the 25th. At such a last meeting it was but business-like to clear off all debts due by the Council; and, accordingly, this was done by the issue of the following comprehensive money-warrant, signed by Whitlocke as President, and by four others of those present.

"These are to will and require you, out of such moneys as are or
shall come into your hands, to pay unto the several persons whose
names are endorsed the several sums of money to their names
mentioned, making on the whole the sum of Three Thousand Six
Hundred Eighty-two Pounds, Eight Shillings, and Six Pence: being so
much due to them for their salaries and service to this Council
unto the Two-and-twentieth day of this instant October. Hereof you
are not to fail; and for so doing this shall be your sufficient
warrant. Given at the Council of State at Whitehall this 25th day
of October, 1659.

"B. WHITLOCKE, _President._
A. JOHNSTON.
JAMES HARRINGTON.
CHARLES FLEETWOOD.
JA. BERRY.

"To GUALTER FROST, Esq.,

"Treasurer for the Council's Contingencies."

"The eighty-six persons to whom the payments are to be made are
divided into groups in the Warrant, the particular sum due to each
person appended to his name. The first five groups stand thus:--

£ _s._ _d._
Richard Deane 234 7 6
_"At £500 per annum each_ Henry Scobell 234 7 6
William Robinson 83 0 0

_At £1 per day_ Richard Kingdon 86 0 0

_At £200 per annum each_ JOHN MILTON 86 12 0
ANDREW MARVELL 86 12 0

Gualter Frost 138 0 10
_At 20_s._ per diem each_ Matthew Fairbank 139 0 0
Samuel Morland 88 0 0
Edward Dendy 169 0 0

Matthew Lea 56 6 8
_At 6_s._ 8_d._ per diem each_ [Clerks] Thomas Lea 56 6 8
William Symon 56 6 8"

Then follow the names of _twenty-nine_ persons at 5_s._
per diem each: viz. Zachary Worth, David Salisbury, Peter
Llewellen, Edward Cooke, Richard Stephens, Stephen Montague, Thomas
Powell; Henry Symball, Joseph Butler, Thomas Pidcott, Richard
Freeman, George Hussey, Roger Read, Edward Osbaldiston, William
Feild, Robert Cooke (or his widow), Thomas Blagden, William Ledsom,
Edward Cooke; Edward Tytan, Thomas Baker, John Bradley, Nicholas
Hill, Anthony Compton, Joshua Leadbetter, Alexander Turner, Thomas
Wright, William Geering, and Edward Bridges. The occupations of the
first seven are not described, but they were probably under-clerks;
the next twelve were "messengers"; the last ten "serjeant deputies"
under Dendy as Serjeant-at-Arms. The sums ordered to be paid to
them vary from £4 to £42 5_s._--_Forty-four_ more persons
are added more miscellaneously, with the sums due to them
respectively. Among these I may note the following:--"George Vaux,
_Housekeeper_" (£69 9_s._ 8_d._), "Mr. Nutt, the
_Barge-keeper_" (£65), "Mr. Embrey, _Surveyor_" (£140
12_s._ 6_d._), and "Mr. Kinnereley,
_Wardrobe-keeper_" (£140 12_s._ 6_d._).[1]

[Footnote 1: From Warrant Book in Record Office. On comparing the list of persons in this warrant with that in the extract from the Order Books of Oliver's Council of date April 17, 1655 (pp. 177-179), and with lists in a former Council minute of date Feb. 3, 1653-4, and in a Money Warrant of Oliver of same date (Vol. IV. pp. 575-578), it will be seen that there had been changes in the staff meanwhile. Milton, Scobell, Gualter Frost, Serjeant Dendy, Housekeeper Vaux, Bargemaster Nutt, and about a dozen of the clerks, messengers, and serjeant-deputies remain (one of the former clerks, Matthew Fairbank, now promoted from his original 6_s._ 8_d._ a day to 20_s._ a day); but Thurloe, Jessop, Meadows, two younger Frosts, and a good many others are gone, while new men are Deane, Robinson, Kingdon, Morland, Marvell, and others. Morland, as we know, had been brought in a while ago to assist Thurloe; and his salary, we now see, was larger than Milton's.--When Milton's salary was reduced, in April 1655, it was arranged that it should be a life-pension, and payable out of the Exchequer; but the present warrant Directs payment to him, as to the rest, out of the Council's contingencies. It would seem, therefore, that Oliver's arrangement for him had not taken effect, or had been cancelled by the Rump, and that he was now not a life-pensioner, but once more a mere official at the Council's pleasure.]

There is nothing in this warrant to show that Milton's services were transferred to the new Committee of Safety; but the fact seems to be that he did remain nominally in the Latin Secretaryship with Marvell through the whole duration of that body and of the Fleetwood-Lambert rule, i.e. to Dec. 26, 1659. Nominally only it must have been; for we have no trace of any official work of his through the period. There was very little to do for the Government at that time in the way of foreign correspondence, and for what there was Marvell must have sufficed.

Through the months of November and December Milton's thoughts, like those of other people, must have been much occupied with the negotiations going on between the new Government and their formidable opponent in Scotland. What would be the issue? Would Monk persevere in that championship of the ill-treated Rump which he had so boldly undertaken? Would he march into England to restore the Rump, as he had threatened; or would he yet be pacified and induced to accept the Wallingford-House order of things, with a competent share in the power? No one could tell. Lambert was in the north with his army, to beat and drive back Monk if he did attempt to invade England,--at York early in November, and at Newcastle from the 20th of November onwards; Monk was still in Scotland,--at Edinburgh or Dalkeith till the end of November, then at Berwick, but from the beginning of December at Coldstream. Between the two armies agents were passing and repassing; negotiators on the part of the London Government were round about Monk and reasoning with him; Monk's own Commissioners in London had concluded their Treaty of the 15th of November with Fleetwood and the Wallingford-House Council, and there had been rejoicings over what seemed then the happy end of the quarrel; but again the news had come from Scotland that Monk repudiated the agreement made by his Commissioners, and that the negotiation must be resumed at Newcastle. To that the Committee of Safety and the Wallingford-House Council had consented; but, through Monk's delays, the negotiation had not yet been resumed. Would it ever be, or would Monk's army and Lambert's come into clash at last? If so, for which ought one to wish the victory? So far as Milton was concerned, he was bound to wish the success of Monk. Was not Monk the champion of that little Restored Rump to which Milton had himself adhered, and the late suppression of which he had pronounced to be "illegal and scandalous"? Was not Monk also professing and proclaiming that very principle of the proper submission of the military power to the civil on which Milton himself had dilated? Would it not be only God's justice if Lambert, "the secret author and fomenter of these disturbances," should be disgraced and overthrown? Yet, on the other hand, who could desire even that consequence, or the Restoration of the Rump, at the expense of another civil war and bloodshed? Where would the process stop? And, besides, was Monk, with his Presbyterian notions, learnt among the Scots, the man from whose ascendancy Milton could hope anything but farther disappointment in the Church question? All in all, we are to imagine Milton anxious for a reconciliation.

No less interesting to Milton must have been the activity of the new Government meanwhile in their great business of inventing "such a Form of Government as may best suit and comport with a Free State and Commonwealth."----The Rump itself, as we know, had been busy with this problem through the last month of its sittings, having appointed on the 8th of September a great Committee on the subject, with Vane named first, but all the most eminent Rumpers included (ante p. 480). Through this Committee there had been an inburst into the Parliamentary mind, as Ludlow informs us, of the thousand and one competing proposals or models of a Commonwealth already devised by the Harringtonians and other theorists; and, in fact, while the Committee was sitting, there had started up for its assistance, close to the doors of Parliament, the famous Harrington or Rota Club, meeting nightly in Miles's Coffee-house, and including Neville and others of the Rumpers among its most constant members (ante pp. 484-486). That Milton knew already about Harrington and his "models" by sufficient readings of Harrington's books there can be no doubt. In the address to the Rump prefixed to his _Considerations touching Hirelings_ in August last he had distinctly referred to the kind acceptance by the Rump of "new models of a Commonwealth" daily tendered to them in Petitions, and must have had specially in view the Petition of July 6, which had been drawn up by Harrington, and which proposed a constitution of two Parliamentary Houses, one of 300 members, the other much larger, on such a system of rotation as would change each completely every third year (ante pp. 483-484). His only criticism on the competing models then had been that, till his own notion of Church-disestablishment were carried into effect, "no model whatsoever of a Commonwealth, would prove successful or undisturbed." At that time, accordingly, Milton was so engrossed with his Church-disestablishment notion as to be comparatively careless about the general question of the Form of Government. But, two months later, as we have seen, in his _Letter on the Ruptures of the Commonwealth_ occasioned by Lambert's assault on the Rump, he had abandoned this indifference, and had proposed a model Constitution of his own, adapted to the immediate exigencies. From that time, we may now report, though Church-disestablishment was never lost sight of, the question of the Form of Government had fastened itself on Milton's mind as after all the main one. From that time he never ceased to ruminate it himself, and he attended more to the speculations and theories of others on the same subject. If, once or twice in the winter months of 1659, Cyriack Skinner, the occasional chairman of the Rota Club, did not persuade Milton to leave his house in Petty France late in the evening, and be piloted through the streets to the Coffee-house in New Palace Yard to hear one of the great debates of the Club, and become acquainted with their method of closing the debate by a ballot, it would really be a wonder.----Not in the Rota Club, however, but in the Committee of Safety at Whitehall and in the Wallingford-House Council, was the real and practical debate in progress. On the 1st of November the Committee had appointed their sub-committee of six to deliberate on the new Constitution; and through the rest of the month, both in the sub-committee and in the general committee, there had been that intricate discussion in which Vane led the extreme party, or party of radical changes, while Whitlocke stood for lawyerly use and wont in all things, and Johnstone of Warriston threw in suggestions from his peculiar Scottish point of view. So far as Milton was cognisant of the discussion, his hopes must have been in the efforts of his friend Vane. If any one could succeed in inducing his colleagues to insert articles for Church-disestablishment and full Liberty of Conscience into the new Constitution, who so likely as he who had held those articles as tenets of his private creed so much earlier and so much more tenaciously than any other public man? Seven years ago Milton had described him on this account as Religion's "eldest son," on whose firm hand she could lean in peace. Now that he was again in power, and that not merely as one of a miscellaneous Parliamentary body, but as one of a small committee of leaders drafting a Constitution _de novo_, what might he not accomplish? That Vane did battle in Committee for the notions he held in common with Milton, and for others besides, we already know; but we know also that the massive resistance of Whitlocke, backed outside by the lawyers and the Savoy clique of the clergy, was too much for Vane, and that the draft Constitution as it emerged ultimately was substantially Whitlocke's. It was on the 6th of December that this draft Constitution was submitted to the Convention of Army and Navy delegates at Whitehall; and it was on the 14th that, after modifications by this body tending to make it still more Whitlocke's than it had been, it went back to the Committee of Safety approved and ratified. A Single House Parliament of the customary sort to meet in February; a new Council of State of the customary sort to be appointed by that Parliament; the Established Church to be kept up, and by the system of Tithes until some other form of ample State-maintenance for the clergy should be provided; Liberty of Conscience for Nonconformists, but within limits: this and no more was the parturition after all. If Ludlow was in despair because no sufficient security had been taken that the new Parliament should be true to the Commonwealth, and if the theorists of the Rota were disappointed because none of their patent models had been adopted, Milton's regret can have been no less. Government after government, but all deaf alike to his teachings! Even this one, with Vane at the heart of it, unable to rise above the old conceits of a customary state-craft, and ending in a solemn vote for conserving a Church of Hirelings!

So in the middle of December. Then, for another week, the strange phenomenon, day after day, of that whirl of popular and army opinion which was to render all the long debate over the new Constitution nugatory, to upset the Wallingford-House administration, and stop Whitlocke in his issue of the writs for the Parliament that had just been announced. Monk's dogged persistency for the old Rump had done the work without the need of his advance from Coldstream to fight Lambert. All over England and Ireland people were declaring for Monk with increasing enthusiasm, and execrating Lambert's _coup d'état_ and the Wallingford-House usurpation. Portsmouth had revolted; the Londoners were in riot; Lambert's own soldiery were falling away from him at Newcastle; Fleetwood's soldiery in London were growing ashamed of themselves and of their chief amid the taunts and insults of the populace. On the 20th of December appearances were such that Whitlocke and his colleagues were in the utmost perplexity.

One great Republican had not lived to see this return of public feeling to the cause of his heart. Bradshaw had died on the 22nd of November, all but despairing of the Republic. His will was proved on the 16th of December. It consisted of an original will, dated March 22, 1653, and two codicils, the second dated September 10, 1655. His wife having predeceased him, leaving no issue, the bulk of his extensive property went to his nephew, Henry Bradshaw; but there were various legacies, and among them the following in one group in the second codicil,--"To old Margarett ffive markes, to Mr. Marcham^t. Nedham tenne pounds, and to Mr. John Milton tenne poundes." There is nothing here to settle the disputed question of Milton's cousinship, on his mother's side, with Bradshaw.[1] The legacy was a trifling one, equivalent to £35 now; and, as Needham and Milton are associated on terms of equality, Bradshaw must have been thinking of them together as the two literary officials who had been so much in contact with each other, and with himself, in the days of his Presidency of the Council of State,--Needham as the appointed journalist of the Commonwealth, and Milton as its Latin champion, and for some time Needham's censor and supervisor. In Milton's case perhaps, as the codicil was drawn up fifteen months after the publication of the _Defensio Secunda_, the legacy may have been intended not merely as a small token of general respect and friendliness, but also as a recognition by Bradshaw of the bold eulogy on him inserted into that work at a critical moment of his relations to Cromwell.

[Footnote 1: Ormerod's Cheshire, III. 409; but I owe the verbatim extract from the codicil to the never-failing kindness of Colonel Chester.--By an inadvertence the date of Bradshaw's death has been given, ante p. 495, as Oct. 31, 1659, instead of Nov. 22.]

* * * * *

More than two years had elapsed since Milton's last letters to Oldenburg and young Ranelagh (ante pp. 366-367). They were then at Sáumur in France, where they remained till March 1658; but since that time they had been travelling about, and from May 1659, if not earlier, they had been boarding in Paris. There are glimpses of them in letters from Oldenburg to Robert Boyle, and also in letters of Hartlib to Boyle, in which he quotes passages from letters he has received both from Oldenburg and from young Ranelagh. Thus, in a letter of Hartlib's to Boyle of April 12, 1659, there is this from Oldenburg's last: "I have had some discourse with an able but somewhat close physician here, that spoke to me of a way, though without particularizing all, to draw a liquor of the beams of the sun; which peradventure some person that is knowing and experienced (as noble Mr. Boyle) may better beat out than we can who want experience in these matters." Young Ranelagh seems to have fully acquired by this time the tastes for physical and experimental science which characterized his tutor; and his uncle Boyle may have read with a smile this from Hartlib of date October 22, 1659:--"This week Mr. Jones hath saluted me with a very kind letter, containing a very singular observation in these words: 'Concerning the generation of pearls I am of opinion that they are engendered in the cockle-fishes (I pray, Sir, give me the Latin word for it in your next) of the same manner as the stone in our body,--which I endeavour fully to show in a discourse of mine about the generation of pearls; which, when I shall have done it, shall wait upon you for my part in revenge of your observations. I heard lately a very remarkable story about margarites from a person of quality and honour in this town, which you will be glad, I believe, to hear. A certain German baron of about twenty-four years old, being in prison here at Paris, in the same chamber with a Frenchman (who told this, as having been eyewitness of it, to him that told it me), they having both need of money, the baron sent his man to a goldsmith to buy seven or eight ordinary pearls, of about twenty pence a piece, which he put a-dissolving in a glass of vinegar; and, being well dissolved, he took the paste and put it together with a powder (which I should be glad to know) into a golden mould, which he had in his pocket, and so put it a-warming for some time upon the fire; after which, opening the mould, they found a very great and lovely oriental pearl in it, which they sold for about two hundred crowns, although it was a great deal more worth. The same baron, throwing a little powder he had with him into a pitcher of water, and letting it stand about four hours, made the best wine that a man can drink.' Thus far the truly hopeful young gentleman, whereby he hath hugely obliged me. I wish he had the forementioned powder, that we might try whether we could make the like pearls and wine." From a subsequent letter of Hartlib's, dated Nov. 29, 1659, it appears that Oldenburg and Jones were both much interested in the optical instruments of a certain Bressieux, then in Paris, who had for two years been chief workman in that line for Descartes. They were anxious to make him a present of some good glass from London, because he was rather secretive about his workmanship, and such a present would go a great way towards mollifying him.[1]

[Footnote 1: Letters of Oldenburg and Hartlib to Boyle in Boyle's Works (1744), V. 280-296 and 300-302.]

Very possibly with this last letter of Oldenburg's to Hartlib there had been enclosed a letter from Oldenburg, and another from young Ranelagh, to Milton. Two such letters, at all events, Milton had received, and undoubtedly through Hartlib, who was still the universal foreign postman for his friends. We can guess the substance of the two letters. Young Ranelagh does not seem to have troubled Milton with his speculations on the generation of pearls, or his story of the German baron and his alchemic powders, but only to have sent his dutiful regards, with excuses for long neglect of correspondence. Oldenburg had also sent his excuses for the same, but with certain pieces of news from abroad, and certain references to the state of affairs at home. Among the pieces of news were two of some personal interest to Milton. One was that the unfinished reply to his _Defensio Prima_, which Salmasius had left in manuscript at his death six years ago, was about to appear as a posthumous publication. The other was that there was to be a great Synod of the French Protestant Church, at which the case of Morus was to be again discussed. For, though it was more than two years since Morus had received his call to the collegiate pastorship of the Protestant Church of Paris or Charenton, the question of his admissibility to the charge had hung all that while between the Walloon Synods of the United Provinces and the French Protestant Church Courts, the latter on the whole favouring him, the former more and more bent on disgracing him. In April of the present year a Walloon Synod at Tergou had actually passed on him a sentence of suspension from the ministerial office and from the holy communion "until by a sincere repentance of his sins he shall have repaired so many scandals he has brought upon us." In spite of this, a French Provincial Synod, held at Ai in Champagne in the following month, had ordered his admission to be carried into effect, and the Parisian consistory had obeyed this order, though two members of it protested. There had since then been another Walloon Synod, held at Nimeguen in September, in which the former sentence of the Tergou Synod was confirmed, but, for the sake of peace between the Walloon Church and their brethren of the French Protestant Church, it was agreed to waive all farther jurisdiction over Morus in Holland and to "remit the whole cause unto the prudence, discretion, and charity of the National Assembly of the French churches to meet at Loudun." This was the Synod of whose approaching meeting Oldenburg had informed Milton--the Synod of Loudun in Anjou (Nov. 10, 1659--Jan. 10, 1660). It was to be a very important assembly indeed,--no mere Provincial Synod, but a national one, expressly allowed by Louis XIV., and to consist of deputies, clerical and lay, from all the Protestant churches of France, empowered to transact all business relating to those churches under certain royal regulations and restrictions, and in the presence of a royal Commissioner. As there had been no such National Protestant Synod in France for fifteen years, there was an accumulation of business for it, the case of Morus included. They were to examine that case _de novo_, and to pronounce finally whether Morus was guilty or not guilty, whether he should remain a minister of the French Church or not.[1]

[Footnote 1: Bayle, Art. _Morus_, and Bruce's Life of Morus, 204-226.]

Milton's replies to the two letters will now be intelligible. He writes, it will be observed, in a gloomy mood, on the very day on which Whitlocke, for different reasons, was in a gloomy mood too and "wishing himself out of these daily hazards":--

TO HENRY OLDENBURG.

"That forgiveness which you ask for _your_ silence you will
give rather to _mine_; for, if I remember rightly, it was my
turn to write to you. By no means has it been any diminution of my
regard for you (of this I would have you fully persuaded) that has
been the impediment, but only my employments or domestic cares; or
perhaps it is mere sluggishness to the act of writing that makes me
guilty of the intermitted duty. As you desire to be informed, I am,
by God's mercy, as well as usual. Of any such work as compiling the
history of our political troubles, which you seem to advise, I have
no thought whatever [_longe absum_]: they are worthier of
silence than of commemoration. What is needed is not one to compile
a good history of our troubles, but one who can happily end the
troubles themselves; for, with you, I fear lest, amid these our
civil discords, or rather sheer madnesses, we shall seem to the
lately confederated enemies of Liberty and Religion a too fit
object of attack, though in truth they have not yet inflicted a
severer wound on Religion than we ourselves have been long doing by
our crimes. But God, as I hope, on His own account, and for His
own glory, now in question, will not allow the counsels and onsets
of the enemy to succeed as they themselves wish, whatever
convulsions Kings and Cardinals meditate and design. Meanwhile, for
the Protestant Synod of Loudun, which you tell me is so soon to
meet [Milton does not seem to know that it had been sitting already
for six weeks] I pray--what has never happened to any Synod yet--a
happy issue, not of the Nazianzenian sort,[1] and am of opinion
that the issue of this one will be happy enough if, should they
decree nothing else, they should decree the expulsion of Morus. Of
my posthumous adversary, as soon as he makes his appearance, be
good enough to give me the earliest information. Farewell.

"Westminster: December 20, 1659."

[Footnote 1: The allusion seems to be to the great OEcumenical Council of Constantinople in 381, which confirmed Gregory Nazianzen in the Patriarchate of Constantinople, and in which Gregory presided for some time and inefficiently.]

TO THE NOBLE YOUTH, RICHARD JONES.

"For the long break in your correspondence with me your excuses are
truly most modest, inasmuch as you might with more justice accuse
me of the same fault; and, as the case stands, I am really at a
loss to know whether I should have preferred your not having been
in fault to your having apologised so finely. On no account let it
ever come into your mind that I measure your gratitude, if anything
of the kind is due to me from you, by your constancy in
letter-writing. My feeling of your gratitude to me will be
strongest when the fruits of those services of mine to you of which
you speak shall appear not so much in frequent letters as in your
perseverance and laudable proficiency in excellent pursuits. You
have rightly marked out for yourself the path of virtue in that
theatre of the world on which you have entered; but remember that
the path is common so far to virtue and vice, and that you have yet
to advance to where the path divides itself into two. And you ought
now betimes to prepare yourself for leaving this common path,
pleasant and flowery, and for being able the more readily, with
your own will, though with labour and danger, to climb that arduous
and difficult one which is the slope of virtue only. For this you
have great advantages over others, believe me, in having secured so
faithful and skilful a guide. Farewell.

"Westminster: December 20, 1659."

Two days after the date of these letters the uproar of execration round the Wallingford-House Government had reached such an extreme that Whitlocke made his desperate proposal to Fleetwood that they should extricate themselves from their difficulty by declaring for Charles and opening negotiations with him. Two days more, and Fleetwood's soldiery, under the command of officers of the Rump, were marching down Chancery Lane, cheering Speaker Lenthall and asking his forgiveness. Again two days more, and on the 26th of December, Fleetwood having given up the game and sent the keys of the Parliament House to Lenthall, the Rumpers were back in their old places. We have arrived, therefore, at that _Third Stage of the Anarchy_ which may be called "The Second Restoration of the Rump."

* * * * *

Of Milton in this stage of the Anarchy we hear little or nothing directly; but there are means for tracing the course of his thoughts.

As may be inferred from the melancholy tone of his letter to Oldenburg, he had all but ceased to hope for any deliverance for the Commonwealth by any of the existing parties. Even the Second Restoration of the Rump, though it was what he was bound to approve, and had indeed suggested as possibly the best course, can have brought him but little increase of expectation. If, in its best estate, after its first restoration, the Rump had disappointed him, what could he hope from it now in its attenuated and crippled condition, with Vane expelled from it because of his actings during the Wallingford-House Interruption, with Salway out of it, who had worked so earnestly with Vane on the Church-question, and with others of the ablest also out of it, leaving a House of but about two scores of persons, to be managed by Hasilrig, Scott, Neville, and Henry Marten? Nay, not to be managed even by those undoubted Republicans, but to a great extent also by Ashley Cooper, Fagg, and others, whose Republicanism was of a very dubious character! For Milton cannot have failed to take note of the abatement in this session of the Rump of that Republican fervency which had characterized its former session. What had been his own two proposed tests of genuine Republicanism? Willingness of every one concerned with the Government to take a solemn oath of Abjuration of a Single Person, and willingness also of every such person to swear to the principle of Liberty of Conscience. How was it faring with these two tests in this renewed Session of the Rumpers? An abjuration oath of the kind indicated had been imposed indeed on the new Council of State; but nearly half of those nominated to the Council had remained out of that body rather than take the oath, and Hasilrig's proposal to require the same oath from all members of the House itself had been so strenuously resisted that it had fallen to the ground. Then, on the religious question, what was the deliberate offer of the House to the country in their heads for a public Declaration on the 21st of January 1659-60? "Due liberty to tender consciences" was promised; but that was a mere phrase of custom, implying little or nothing, and it was utterly engulphed, in Milton's estimate, by the accompanying engagement to "uphold a learned and pious ministry of the nation and their maintenance by Tithes." On the Church-disestablishment question the House had actually receded from its former self by announcing that it was not even to prosecute the inquiry as to a possible substitute for Tithes. Altogether, before the twice-restored Rump had sat a month, Milton must have seen that his ideal Commonwealth was just as far off as ever. All he could hope was that the wretched little Parliament would not prove positively treacherous.

With others, however, he must have been thinking more of Monk's proceedings and intentions than of those of the Parliament. Monk's march from Coldstream southwards on the 2nd of January; the vanishing of the residue of Lambert's forces before him; the addresses to him in the English counties all along his route; his answers or supposed answers to these addresses; his wary behaviour to the two Parliamentary Commissioners that had been sent to attach themselves to him and find out his disposition in the matter of the Abjuration Oath; his arrival at St. Alban's on the 28th of January; his message thence to the Parliament to clear all Fleetwood's regiments out of London and Westminster before his own entry; that entry itself on the 3rd of February, when he and his battered columns streamed in through Gray's Inn Lane; finally his first appearance in the House and speech, there:--of all this Milton had exact cognisance through the newspapers of his friend Needham and otherwise. It was very puzzling and by no means reassuring. If he had ever thought of Monk as by possibility such a saviour of the Commonwealth as he had been longing for, the study of the actually approaching physiognomy of Old George all the way from Scotland, and still more Old George's first deliverance of himself in the Parliament, must have undeceived him. The Abjuration Oath, it appeared, was not at all to Monk's mind. He would not take it himself in order to be qualified for the seat voted him in the Council of State, and he plainly intimated his opinion that the day for such oaths and engagements was past. Milton cannot have liked that rejection by the General of one of the tests on which he had himself placed so much reliance. But, further, what meant Monk's very ambiguous utterance respecting the three immediate courses one of which must be chosen? He had distinctly mentioned in the House that the drift of public opinion, as he could ascertain it from the addresses made to him along his march, was towards either _an enlargement of the present House by the re-admission of the Secluded Members_ or _a full and free Parliament by a new general election_; and, though he had seemed to acquiesce in that third course which was proposed by the House itself, viz. _the enlargement of the House by a competent number of new writs issued by itself under a careful scheme of qualification for electing or being eligible_, he had left a very vague impression as to his real preference. Now to Milton, as to all other ardent Commonwealth's men, the vital question was which of these three courses was to be taken. To adopt either of the two first was to subvert the Commonwealth. To re-admit the secluded members into the present House was to convert it into a House with an overwhelming Presbyterian majority, and to bring back the days of Presbyterian ascendancy, with the prospect of a restoration of Royalty on merely Presbyterian terms. To summon what was called a new full and free Parliament was, all but certainly, to bring back Royalty by a more hurried process still. Only by the third method, the Rump's own method, did there seem a chance of preserving the Republican constitution; and yet Monk's assent to it had been but hesitating and uncertain. More ominous still had been his few words intimating his wishes in the matter of ecclesiastical policy. He could conceive nothing so good, on the whole, as the Scottish Presbyterianism he had been living amidst for the last few years, and he thought that the 'sober interest' in England, steering between the 'Cavalier party' on the one side and the 'Fanatic party' on the other, would be most secure by keeping to a moderate Presbytery in the State-Church. That Milton's views as to the merits of Scottish Presbytery were not Monk's is an old story, needing no repetition here. What must have concerned him was to see Monk not only at one with the great mass of his countrymen on the subject of a Church-Establishment, but actually retrograde on the question of the desirable nature of such an Establishment, inasmuch as he seemed to signal his countrymen back out of Cromwell's broad Church of mixed Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, into a Church more strictly on the Presbyterian model. Then another unpleasant novelty in Monk's case was his fondness for the phrases _Fanatics, Fanatic Notions_, the _Fanatic Party_. The phrases were not new; but Monk had sent them out of Scotland before him, and had brought them himself out of Scotland, with a new significance. Very probably they had been supplied to him out of the vocabulary of his Scottish clerical adviser Mr. James Sharp, or of the Scottish Resolutioner clergy generally. At all events, it is from and after the date of Monk's march into England that one finds the name _Fanatics_ a common one for all those Commonwealth's men collectively who opposed a State-Church or the moderate Presbyterian or semi-Presbyterian form of it. Had Monk drawn out a list of his 'Fanatics,' he would have had to put Milton himself at the top of them, with Vane, Harrison, Barebone, and the leading Quakers.

Nevertheless, here was Monk, such as he was, the armed constable of the crisis, the one man who could keep the peace and let the Rumpers proceed in doing their best. That "best" as they had agreed specifically on the 4th of February, the day after Monk's arrival, was to be the recruiting of their own House up to a total of 400 members for England and Wales, such recruiting to be effected by the issue of a certain number of new writs, together with a scheme of qualifications calculated to bring in only sound Republicans, or persons likely to cooperate in farther measures with the present Rumpers. This being what was promised by the conjunction of Monk and the Rump, what could Milton do but acquiesce, be glad it was no worse, and contribute what advice he could? This, accordingly, is what he did. Pamphlets on the crisis, as we know, had been coming out abundantly--pamphlets for the good old cause of the Republic, pamphlets from Rota-men, pamphlets from Prynne and other haters of the Rump, pamphlets from crypto-Royalists, and pamphlets openly Royalist; and many of these had taken, and others were still to take, the form of letters addressed to Monk. It need be no surprise that Milton had _his_ pamphlet in preparation. He had begun it just after Monk's arrival in London and the resolution, of the Rump to recruit itself; he had written it hurriedly and yet with some earnest care; and it seems to have been ready for the press about or not long after the middle of February. Before it could go to press, however, there had been another revolution, obliging him to hold it back. There had been the rebellion of the Londoners because of the resolution of the Rump to perpetuate itself by recruiting, instead of either readmitting the secluded members or calling a new free and full Parliament; there had been Monk's notorious two days in the City, by order of the Rump, quashing the rebellion, and breaking the gates and portcullises (Feb. 9-10); there had been his extraordinary return the third day, with his profession of regret before the Lord Mayor and the Aldermen and Common Council, and his announcement that he had dissolved his connexion with the Rump,--that third day wound up with yells of delight through all the City, the smashing of Barebone's windows, and the universal Roasting of the Rump in street-bonfires (Feb. 11); there had been the ten more days of Monk's continued residence in the City, the Rumpers vainly imploring reconciliation with him, and the Secluded Members and their friends gathering round him and negotiating; and, on Tuesday, Feb. 21, when he did remove from the City to Westminster, it was with the Secluded Members in his train, to be marched under military guard to their seats beside the Rumpers. The writs issued by the Rump for recruiting itself were now useless. It had been recruited in the way it least liked, by the sudden reappearance in it of the excluded Presbyterians and Royalists of the pre-Commonwealth period of the Long Parliament.

Far more than the mere stopping of his pamphlet was involved for Milton in the events of that fortnight. He could construe them no otherwise than as the breaking down of the inner rampart that defended the Commonwealth against Charles Stuart. The _Roasting of the Rump_ in London was but a rough popular metaphor for "Down with the Republic"; and, had the tumult of that night extended from the City to Westminster and the breaking of the windows of "fanatics" become general, Milton's would not have escaped. Then, in the course of the negotiations with Monk through the fatal fortnight, had not the Rump itself quailed? Had they not offered to cancel the solemn Abjuration Oath, alike for the Councillors of State and for future members of Parliament, and to substitute only a general engagement to be faithful to the Commonwealth, without King, Single Person, or House of Lords? Hardly anywhere now did there seem to be that stern, bold, uncompromising opposition to Royalty which would register itself, as Milton wanted, in an oath before God and man, but only that feebler Republicanism which would pledge itself with the understood reservation of "circumstances permitting." But worst of all was the crowning fact that the Secluded Members had been restored. By that one stroke of Monk's all that had happened since the Commonwealth had been set up was put in question, and the power was given back into the hands of the very men who had protested and struggled against the setting up of the Commonwealth eleven years ago. How would these act? It might be hoped perhaps that some of the more prudent among them, having regard to the lapse of time and the change of circumstances, might not think it their duty to be as vehemently Royalist now as they had been in 1648, and also perhaps that the power of Monk, if Monk himself remained true, might restrain the rest. But _would_ Monk remain true, or would his power avail long in restraining a Parliament the majority of which were Presbyterians and Royalists? Not to speak of the varied ability and subtlety of such of the new Parliamentary chiefs as Annesley, Sir William Waller, Denzil Holles, Ashley Cooper, and Harbottle Grimstone, what was to be expected from the remorseless obstinacy, the rhinoceros persistency, of such a Presbyterian as Prynne? How often had Milton jeered at Prynne and the margins of his endless pamphlets! It might be of some consequence to him now to remember that he had done so, and had therefore this virtual Attorney-General of the Secluded for his personal enemy. Altogether, Milton's despondency had never yet been so deep as it must have been at this beginning of the last phase of the long English Revolution, represented in the Parliament of the Secluded Members and in Monk's accompanying Dictatorship.