soever) for being out of humour, which led him from one ill to another but that he had lived always without intermission with the earl of Northumberland as his friend, and courted him as his mistress; "that he had never denied any thing he had ever asked, and therefore his carriage to him was never to be forgotten." And this discourse he continued with more commotion, and in a more pathetical style than ever he used upon any other argument. And though at that time it was not fit to press the matter further, it was afterwards resumed by the same person more than once; but without any other effect, than that his majesty was contented that the earl should not despair of being restored to that office, when the peace should be made; or upon any eminent service performed by him, when the peace should be despaired of. The king was very willing and desirous that the treaty should be drawn out in length; to which purpose a proposition was made to the commissioners for an addition of ten days, which they sent to the parliament, without the least apprehension that it would be denied. But they were deceived; and for answer, received an order upon the last day but one of the time before limited, by which they were expressly required to leave Oxford the next day. From that time all intercourse and commerce between Oxford and London, which had been permitted before, was absolutely interdicted under the highest penalties by the parliament. If this secret underhand proposition had succeeded, and received that encouragement from the king that was desired, and more application of the same remedies had been then made to other persons (for alone it could never have proved effectual), it is probable, that those violent and abominable counsels, which were but then in projection between very few men of any interest, and which were afterwards miserably put in practice, had been prevented. And it was exceedingly wondered at, by those who were then privy to this overture, and by all who afterwards came to hear of it, that the king should in that conjuncture decline so advantageous a proposition; since he did already discern many ill humours and factions, growing and nourished, both in his court and army, which would every day be uneasy to him; and Idid with all his soul desire an end of the war. And there was nothing more suitable and agreeable to his magnanimous nature, than to forgive those, who had in the highest degree offended him: which temper was notorious throughout his whole life. It will not be therefore amiss, in this discourse, to enlarge upon this fatal rejection, and the true cause and ground thereof. The king's affection to the queen was of a very extraordinary alloy; a composition of conscience, and love, and generosity, and gratitude, and all those noble affections which raise the passion to the greatest height; insomuch as he saw with her eyes, and determined by her judgment; and did not only pay her this adoration, but desired that all men should know that he was swayed by her: which was not good for either of them. The queen was a lady of great beauty, excellent wit and humour, and made him a just return of noblest affections; so that they were the true idea of conjugal affection, in the age in which they lived. When she was admitted to the knowledge and participation of the most secret affairs (from which she had been carefully restrained by the duke of Buckingham whilst he lived), she took delight in the examining and discussing them, and from thence in making judgment of them; in which her passions were always strong. She had felt so much pain in knowing nothing, and meddling with nothing, during the time of that great favourite, that now she took pleasure in nothing but knowing all things, and disposing all things; and thought it but just, that she should dispose of all favours and preferments as he had done; at least, that nothing of that kind might be done without her privity: not considering that the universal prejudice that great man had undergone, was not with reference to his person, but his power; and that the same power would be equally obnoxious to murmur and complaint, if it resided in any other person than the king himself. And she so far concurred with the king's inclination, that she did not more desire to be possessed of this unlimited power, than that all the world should take notice that she was the entire mistress of it; which in truth (what other unhappy circumstances soever concurred in the mischief) was the foundation upon which the first and the utmost prejudices to the king and his government were raised and prosecuted. And it was her majesty's and the kingdom's misfortune, that she had not any person about her, who had either ability or affection, to inform and advise her of the temper of the kingdom, or humour of the people; or who thought either worth the caring for. When the disturbances grew so rude as to interrupt this harmony, and the queen's fears, and indisposition, which pro ceeded from those fears, disposed her to leave the kingdom, which the king, to comply with her, consented to (and if that fear had not been predominant in her, her jealousy and apprehension, that the king would at some time be prevailed with to yield to some unreasonable conditions, would have dissuaded her from that voyage); to make all things therefore as sure as might be, that her absence should not be attended with any such inconvenience, his majesty made a solemn promise to her at parting, that he would receive no person into any favour or trust, who had disserved him, without her privity and consent; and that, as she had undergone so many reproaches and calumnies at the entrance into the war, so he would never make any peace, but by her interposition and mediation, that the kingdom might receive that blessing only from her. This promise (of which his majesty was too religious an observer) was the cause of his majesty's rejection, or, not entertaining this last overture; and this was the reason that he had that aversion to the cessation, which he thought would inevitably oblige him to consent to the peace, as it should be proposed; and therefore he had countenanced an address, that had been made to him against it, by the gentlemen of several counties attending the court: and in truth they were put upon that address by the king's own private direction. Upon which the chancellor of the exchequer told him, when the business was over, that he had raised a spirit he would not be able to conjure down; and that those petitioners had now appeared in a business that pleased him, but would be as ready to appear, at another time, to cross what he desired; which proved true. For he was afterwards more troubled with application and importunity of that kind, and the murmurs that arose from that liberty, when all men would be counsellors, and censure all that the council did, than with the power of the enemy. About the time that the treaty began, the queen landed in the north; and she resolved, with a good quantity of ammunition and arms, to make what haste she could to the king; having at her first landing expressed, by a letter to his majesty, her apprehension of an ill peace by that treaty; and declared, that she would never live in England, if she might not have a guard for the security of her person: which letter came accidentally afterwards into the hands of the parliament; of which they made use to the queen's disadvantage. And the expectation of her majesty's arrival at Oxford, was the reason that the king so much desired the prolongation of the treaty. And if it had pleased God that she had come thither time enough, as she did shortly after, she would have probably condescended to many propositions for the gratifying particular persons, as appeared afterwards, if thereby a reasonable peace might have been obtained. (From the Same.) CAUSES OF THE CORRUPTION WHICH THIS unhappy temper and constitution of the royal party with whom he had always intended to have made a firm conjunction against all accidents and occurrences which might happen at home or from abroad, did wonderfully displease and trouble the king; and, with the other perplexities, which are mentioned before, did so break his mind, and had that operation upon his spirits, that finding he could not propose any such method to himself, by which he might extricate himself out of those many difficulties and labyrinths in which he was involved, nor expedite those important matters which depended upon the good-will and despatch of the parliament, which would proceed by its own rules, and with its accustomed formalities, he grew more disposed to leave all things to their natural course, and God's providence ; and by degrees unbent his mind from the knotty and ungrateful part of his business, grew more remiss in his application to it, and indulged to his youth and appetite that license and satisfaction that it desired, and for which he had opportunity enough, and could not be without ministers abundant for any such negotiations; the time itself, and the young people thereof of either sex having been educated in all the liberty of vice, without reprehension or restraint. All relations were confounded by the several sects in religion which discountenanced all forms of reverence and respect, as relics and marks of superstition. Children asked not blessing of their parents; nor did they concern themselves in the education of their children; but were well content that they should take any course to maintain themselves, that they might be free from that expense. The young women conversed without any circumspection or modesty, and 66 frequently met at taverns and common eatinghouses; and they who were stricter and more severe in their comportment, became the wives of the seditious preachers, or of officers of the army. The daughters of noble and illustrious families bestowed themselves upon the divines of the time, or other low and unequal matches. Parents had no manner of authority over their children, nor children any obedience or submission to their parents; but every one did that which was good in his own eyes." This unnatural antipathy had its first rise from the beginning of the rebellion, when the fathers and sons engaged themselves in the contrary parties, the one choosing to serve the king, and the other the parliament; which division and contradiction of affections was afterwards improved to mutual animosities and direct malice, by the help of the preachers and the several factions in religion, or by the absence of all religion: so that there were never such examples of impiety between such relations in any age of the world, Christian or heathen, as that wicked time, from the beginning of the rebellion to the king's return; of which the families of Hotham and Vane are sufficient instances; though other more illustrious houses may be named, where the same accursed fruit was too plentifully gathered, and too notorious to the world. The relation between masters and servants had been long since dissolved by the parliament, that their army might be increased by the prentices against their masters' consent, and that they might have intelligence of the secret meetings and transactions in those houses and families which were not devoted to them; from whence issued the foulest treacheries and perfidiousness that were ever practised: and the blood of the master was frequently the price of the servant's villany. Cromwell had been most strict and severe in the forming the manners of his army, and in chastising all irregularities; insomuch that sure there was never any such body of men so without rapine, swearing, drinking, or any other debauchery, but the wickedness of their hearts: and all persons cherished by him, were of the same leaven, and to common appearance without the practice of any of those vices which were most infamous to the people, and which drew the public hatred upon those who were notoriously guilty of them. But then he was well pleased with the most scandalous lives of those who pretended to be for the king, and wished that all his were such, and took all the pains he could that they might be generally thought to be such; whereas |