have been incited to this crime by Charles's profligate favourite, the duke of Buckingham. Soon after, Blood attempted to carry off the regalia from the Tower, and very nearly succeeded, but was seized, with some of his associates. Charles, with a morbid curiosity to see this audacious criminal, had him brought before him, and, for some reasons either of fear or a secret and evil motive, after the interview pardoned him, and actually took him into his own service, granting him an estate of five hundred pounds a year in Ireland; while the keeper of the jewel office, who had bravely ventured his life, and had been wounded in defending the jewels, was forgotten and neglected. The same year that this action brought on the king the blame and derision of the people, the duchess of York died, professing herself a Roman catholic, and the duke openly acknowledged the same faith.

PART II.

The long prorogation of parliament, though it left the king free from his people's remonstrances, deprived him also of the means of procuring money for the military preparations which he secretly designed to make. France had stipulated to pay him two hundred thousand pounds a year during the war; but this was a very inconsiderable supply for the immense charge of the English navy, and it seemed too great a risk to venture on levying money without the consent of parliament. The king, perplexed, declared that he would give the staff of treasurer to whoever would suggest an expedient for supplying his present needs. Shaftesbury (formerly lord Ashley) dropped a hint to Clifford, who immediatety went to the king, and proposed the shutting up of the exchequer, and retaining all the payments which should be made into it.

It had been usual for the bankers to carry their money to the exchequer, and to advance it upon the security of the funds, by which they were afterwards reimbursed, when the money granted by parliament was levied on the public. The bankers by this traffic obtained eight, and sometimes ten per cent., for sums which either had been consigned to them without interest, or which they had borrowed at six per cent. But for these profits they paid dearly, through this shameful breach of public faith. The measure was so suddenly taken, that no one had warning; no one escaped. The bankers instantly stopped payment-the merchants could answer no bills; commerce was at a stand-still, and the ruin of numbers followed; while Clifford received the staff of treasurer and a peerage. Charles then suspended the penal laws, granting protestant dissenters the public exercise of their religion, and Roman catholics its private exercise. The navigation act was also suspended.

It now became necessary to find pretexts for a war, which the Dutch had certainly never provoked. These were that they (the Dutch) had done certain injuries to the East India Company (the truth of which, however, that company denied); that they had detained some English persons in Surinam-it appeared that those persons remained there voluntarily-the refusal of the Dutch fleet, on its own coasts, to strike the flag to an English yacht; and that a picture, insulting to England, was exhibited in their town hall. This was nothing more or less than a portrait of Cornelius de Witt, painted by order of the magistrates of Dort, and having in the background some burning ships in a harbour. De Witt had really distinguished himself at Chatham, but it was little imagined that the king, who had submitted to the actual insult, would quarrel about its shadow. It was the old fable of the wolf and the lamb exemplified.

War was, however, declared, and once more the cannon of the adverse fleets reechoed in the Channel, and North sea. The sea-fights were of the like description

to those of the last war, hardly contested, and very fatal to life. In the one in Solebay (where, owing to the duke of York's folly-he was commander-in-chief— the English fleet was surprised by the Dutch), the brave lord Sandwich was killed. Though escape from his burning ship was possible, he preferred death on his quarter deck to the ignominy which a rash expression of the duke of York's (when he warned him of their risk) had thrown on him. That fight was an especially terrible one; the duke's ship was so shattered, he had to remove his flag to another, and was nearly overpowered by numbers, when sir Joseph Jordan, who succeeded to Sandwich's command, came to his aid. At night the Dutch retired, but were not followed by the crippled English ships. On land Louis XIV.'s famous general Turenne was entirely victorious, and the United Provinces had to sue for peace; but the most cruelly harsh terms were offered by the French as the price of it.

The

Equally severe terms were proposed by England to the Dutch ambassadors sent to London. The massacre of the De Witts by the populace, however, suddenly placed young William, prince of Orange, at the head of the states, and he exhorted his countrymen to reject with scorn the intolerable conditions demanded of them. spirit of the young prince infused itself into his hearers. They resolved to defend their country to the last, and, if all failed, to fly-a whole nation-to their Indian settlements, and erect a new empire there. William, worthy of his heroic ancestors, was firm against all the efforts by which Charles and Louis sought to induce him to desert the cause of the Dutch. The sovereignty of Holland was offered him, and the protection of England and France, but in vain. When Buckingham pointed out to him the inevitable destruction which hung over the United Provinces, he replied, "There is one certain means by which I can be sure never to see my country's ruin-I will die in the last ditch."

The Dutch had hoped that William's near relationship to the king of England would induce Charles to afford his protection to the distressed republic, and incline him to peaceful and reasonable measures. But Charles cared nothing for his nephew's interests in comparison with his own. The combined fleets of France and England were, however, driven off the coast of Holland by a furious tempest; the dykes, which had been dry in the earlier part of the campaign, were again full. The Dutch inundated their country, and then waited behind their inundations with calm courage for the enemy. Then Louis, seeing no present prospect of success,

withdrew to Versailles.

But the other nations of Europe began now to awake to the danger of letting France add to her already overweening power the Dutch provinces. They felt that they would themselves assuredly be threatened in their turn, perhaps, also, conquered. Spain sent forces to the assistance of the Dutch; the emperor took their side, and the progress of the victor was suddenly checked. The course of conquest was first stopped at Groningen, when the bishop of Munster was repulsed, and obliged to raise the siege.

The best hope of the Hollanders, however, was in the English parliament, which Charles's necessities at last obliged him to assemble. This parliament at once inquired into the arbitrary measures of the king; obliged some new members, who had taken their seats upon irregular writs issued by the chancellor, to withdraw, and declared their election null and void. It had been the undisputed privilege of parliament to issue writs for new elections; and no one but so rash a minister as Shaftesbury would have ventured to infringe it. They then objected to his declaration of indulgence to the Roman catholics, and other dissenters. Matters grew to a crisis. Charles had an army encamped on Blackheath, under the command of Marshal Schomberg, aud many of the officers were Roman catholics; he could rely also on the aid of Louis XIV. But Charles cared less for power than for the peaceable

enjoyment of his pleasures. He consented to withdraw the indulgence, but would not assent to their demands that he should disband his army, and he persisted in the Dutch war. Several naval battles took place, with prince Rupert as commanderin-chief, but victory never fully declared itself on either side. The issue of all these sea-fights was doubtful.

Meantime the prince of Orange and the imperialist general Montecucculi were making good progress. William besieged and took Naerden, eluded all the French generals in masterly style, and joined his army to the imperialists. Bonne was taken in a few days; several other places in the electorate of Cologne fell into the hands of William and his allies; thus the communication between France and the United Provinces was cut off; Louis had to recall his troops, and abandon his conquests.

The next time the parliament met, the king perceived that he could expect no more supplies for a war they hated, and with great tact at once asked the advice of the houses as to his making a separate peace with the Dutch. The parliament thanked him for his condescension, and urged him to make peace, which was soon after concluded-1674. All possessions were restored as before the war, and the states agreed to pay the king £300,000, the honour of the flag being also yielded fully by the Dutch. The peace was further cemented in 1677 by a marriage. Charles perceived that the discontents of the people were constantly growing, and augmented every day. He was aware that, during the late war with Holland, the malcontents had intrigued with his nephew, William of Orange, and he dreaded a union between them. He saw that the chief cause of the national discontent was the religion of his brother, the duke of York, who was a papist, and that, although he had insisted on the duke's daughters, Mary and Anne, being educated in the protestant faith, still something more was wanted (since the duke's second marriage with a Roman catholic) to reassure the nation. He therefore invited his nephew over, offering him the hand of the elder princess of York. The prince came, but, to the king's surprise, refused to enter on any business till he had made Mary's acquaintance, declaring that no motives of interest or politics would induce him to marry any one whom he did not love. He was therefore presented to the lady, and was struck by her beauty and intelligence; he refused, however, to make his marriage a reason for giving especially good terms of peace to France; and it was not till Charles found that he was immoveable in his resolution that the marriage was concluded. Thus were united William of Orange and Mary Stuart, afterwards king and queen of England.

In 1678 the evil consequences of Charles's fatal policy became apparent. The people, conscious that they had been deceived, and that they were in the hands of an unprincipled government, began to fear and suspect all kinds of evil. Whispers of mysterious designs entertained by the court, created a spirit of alarm, which was easily raised to panic. The announcement of a Roman catholic plot for burning London down raised them to a fearful state of excitement. This plot, which had no real existence, was invented by a miscreant called Titus Oates, but was received with astonishing credulity by the already alarmed and suspicious people. Numbers of persons suffered death through the perjuries of Oates and his associates, and Charles found himself compelled to call a new parliament, that of the Restoration having lasted till this year. The court exerted itself greatly to insure the return of the most loyal representatives; but all their efforts were vain. new representatives were chiefly chosen from the presbyterians, as being most averse to popery.

The

The king was alarmed; he well knew that his Roman catholic queen, Katherine of Braganza, and his heir, the duke of York, also a papist, were causes of great

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discontent and alarm to the people, and he knew that his crown was in danger. Rousing himself, he once more displayed the energy he had shown in the great fire. First he desired the duke to withdraw beyond seas, and next he took popular men into the privy council. But it was impossible to allay the wrath of the commons. The trials for the plot went on, and Charles was unable to appease the popular fury. Meantime the duke of Lauderdale had been acting as viceroy in Scotland without the title, and, in conjunction with the archbishop, had severely punished the covenanters. The excitement in England about the popish plot once more roused these dissenters, and they began their insurrection by the murder of Sharpe himself in the presence of his daughter. The duke of Monmouth, Charles's natural son, was dispatched at once to Scotland with a small body of English cavaliers; he was joined by the Scottish guards and some regiments of militia; met the covenanters at Bothwell Bridge, and utterly defeated them. Twelve hundred were taken prisoners, but Monmouth treated them with a humanity they had never experienced from their own countrymen.

At this time, happily for the king, he was seized with a severe illness at Windsor, and his life was thought to be in danger. A general consternation prevailed. The people remembered his kind, frank, jovial manner, his good nature, and also that the harsh, stern, bigoted duke of York, was his heir; and their affection to the king was renewed. The duke had been recalled, but did not remain in England. He persuaded Charles, over whom he had great influence, to banish the duke of Monmouth, whose projects were now avowed; and then, after a brief return to Brussels, he went to Scotland, where he assumed soon after the chief command.

Shortly after, the Meal-tub plot followed, hatched by a man who had previously been transported for felony (he was named Dangerfield), and a nurse named Cellier, a Roman catholic. He declared that there was a plot to destroy the king and all the royal family and set up a new form of government. To confirm this statement he hid some seditious papers in the lodgings of a colonel Mansel, and then brought custom-house officers to his house to search for foreign merchandise. The papers were found, but the council concluded that they were forged. They ordered all the places Dangerfield frequented to be searched, and in the house of Cellier the whole scheme of the conspiracy was found on paper, concealed in a meal-tub. Dangerfield, being committed to Newgate, confessed the forgery, but declared it had been suggested by the earl of Castlemain, lady Powis, and the five lords in the Tower. This story was actually believed, and lord Castlemain and lady Powis were sent to the Tower.

The year 1679 is remarkable for the vehemence of the contending parties in the state, who at this time assumed the name of Whig and Tory. The court party, on account of the sympathy between their antagonists and the fanatics in Scotland, who were known as Whigamores, called them Whigs; the Whigs retorted by naming the loyalists Tory, the title of the popish banditti in Ireland. The king assembled the parliament, and endeavoured to soften and reconcile the infuriated parties-but in vain. The commons brought in a bill for the exclusion of the duke of York from the throne on account of his religion; but they failed to pass it. They resumed their persecution of the supposed members of the popish plot. The impeachment of the Roman catholic lords was renewed, and lord Stafford, who from his age, infirmities, and narrow capacitiy, was least equal to defend himself, was chosen as the first victim. On the testimony of Oates, Dugdale, and Tuberville, he was condemned to death. Charles interfered, and remitted the horrible hanging and quartering of the sentence, altering the unjust sentence to beheading. Even this mere humanity was opposed by the two sheriffs in the house, who declared that the king had no power to remit ANY PART of the sentence. It is a

dreadful proof of the spirit of the age that lord William Russell seconded in the house this barbarous scruple of the sheriffs. The commons, however, consented to the mitigation of the sentence in these strange words: "This house is content that the sheriff's do execute William, late viscount Stafford, by severing his head from his body only." The aged peer spoke on the scaffold with such a simple dignity and courage, that the populace were melted into tears. When he protested his innocence, they sighed, groaned, and called out, "We believe you, my lord!--God bless you, my lord." The executioner twice lifted the axe, and had not heart to strike the venerable and gracious form. "A deep sigh was heard to accompany his last effort, which laid Stafford at rest for ever. All the spectators scemed to feel the blow."

This was the last blood shed through the lying popish plot; a general disbelief in it set in. The commons, nevertheless, got a witness called Fitzharris, who was willing to avow that the duke of York had been concerned in the plot; but the king, as his last resource, suddenly and by surprise dissolved the parliament, and the commons retired, alarmed now for their own safety.

Charles henceforward obtained almost despotic power. He diminished his expenses -gave up Tangiers (part of his queen's dowry) to neglect and decay-and recalled his brother to court. A project was then formed for gaining power over the city of London. A writ was issued, which was an inquiry as to the validity of its charter. It was pretended that the city had forfeited its privileges on account of two offences which the aldermen and common council had committed. One was, that after the great fire in 1666 when all the markets had been rebuilt, in order to defray the expense, the magistrates imposed a small toll on goods brought to market; the other, that in the year 1679 they had addressed the king against the prorogation of parliament, and had employed these terms: "Your petitioners are greatly surprised at the late prorogation, whereby the prosecution of the public justice of the kingdom and the making the necessary provisions for the preservation of your majesty and your protestant subjects have received interruption."

These words the court pretended contained a scandalous reflection on the king and his measures. The city defended itself ably; but at that time the office of judge was held only at the royal pleasure, and no cause which the court opposed could ever succeed. Sentence was given against the city, to the great alarm and anger of the people, and the charter had to be surrendered on the terms that no mayor, sheriff, recorder, &c., &c., should be admitted to exercise his office without the king's approval; that if the king twice disapprove of those elected, he might himself appoint those magistrates by commision; with several other displeasing terms. All the other great towns, terrified at the fate of London, resigned their charters into the king's hands; considerable sums were exacted for their restoration, and all offices of power or profit were left to the disposal of the crown.

At the time when the king was seized with that fit of illness at Wind-or, which gave such great alarm, the duke of Monmouth, lord Russell, and lord Grey, instigated by Shaftesbury-the most restless and mischievous of politicians-agreed, in case the king's illness proved mortal, to rise in arms, and oppose the succession of the duke of York. Charles recovered, but these dangerous projects were not laid aside. They drew others into their plot; among these were lord Macclesfield, lord Brandon, sir Gilbert Gerard, and other Cheshire gentlemen; sir William Courtenay, sir Francis Rowes, sir Francis Drake, who promised to raise the west. The train was ready to take fire, but was delayed by the caution of lord Russell. Shaftesbury grew impatient, saw that delay was ruin, and retired to Holland.

After his departure a council of six was elected to manage the intended insurrection. They consisted of Monmouth, Russell, Essex, Howard, Algernon Sidney,