as little real power as the Doges of Venice; and both conclusions would have been equally remote from the truth.'

Our author distinctly admits-what, indeed, no writer with any pretension to candour can deny-that the English reformers were eager to go as far as their brethren on the continent. They unanimously condemned,' he says, 'as antichristian numerous dogmas and practices to which Henry had stubbornly adhered, and which Elizabeth reluctantly abandoned;' and, after adducing the opinions of many of the bishops, he adds: When it is considered that none of these prelates belonged to the extreme section of the Protestant party, it cannot be doubted that, if the general sense of that party had been followed, the work of reform would have been carried on as unsparingly in England as in Scotland.'

The character of James I. served a similar purpose in English history with that of John. It is one of the feeblest and most contemptible in our records, and served to irritate and embolden discontent. No monarch had more exalted notions of his prerogative, or displayed them more absurdly, but he wanted all the stronger elements of despotism. His temper, though obstinate, was timid; he had no self-reliance; was destitute of any large and comprehensive policy; availed himself readily of present ease; and chose for his favourites the most worthless of mankind. A vast increase of national power was anticipated from his accession to the throne of the Southern kingdom, but such anticipations were bitterly disappointed. He was utterly unworthy of his fortune, and the same benefit resulted from his incapacity, as from that of the Plantagenet.

On the day of the accession of James I. our country descended from the rank which she had hitherto held, and began to be regarded as a power hardly of the second order. During many years the great British monarchy, under four successive princes of the House of Stuart, was scarcely a more important member of the European system than the little kingdom of Scotland had previously been. This, however, is little to be regretted. Of James I., as of John, it may be said that if his administration had been able and splendid, it would probably have been fatal to our country, and that we owe more to his weaknesses and meannesses than to the wisdom and courage of much better sovereigns. He came to the throne at a critical moment. The time was fast approaching when either the king must become absolute, or the parliament must control the whole executive administration. Had he been, like Henry IV., like Maurice of Nassau, or like Gustavus Adolphus, a valiant, active, and politic ruler, had he put himself at the head of the Protestants of Europe, had he gained great victories over Tilly and Spinola, had he adorned Westminster with the spoils of Bavarian monasteries and Flemish cathedrals, had he hung Austrian and Castilian banners in Saint Paul's, and had

he found himself, after great achievements, at the head of fifty thousand troops, brave, well disciplined, and devotedly attached to his person, the English parliament would soon have been nothing more than a name. Happily he was not a man to play such a part. He began his administration by putting an end to the war which had raged during many years between England and Spain; and from that time he shunned hostilities with a caution which was proof against the insults of his neighbours and the clamours of his subjects. Not till the last year of his life could the influence of his son, his favourite, his parliament, and his people combined, induce him to strike one feeble blow in defence of his family and of his religion. It was well for those whom he governed, that he in this matter disregarded their wishes. The effect of his pacific policy was, that in his time no regular troops were needed, and that, while France, Spain, Italy, Belgium, and Germany swarmed with mercenary soldiers, the defence of our island was still confided to the militia.'-7b. pp. 69, 70.

The reign of Charles brought on the crisis for which many causes had been co-operating. A new era commenced with the dissolution of his parliament in March, 1629, but as we refer to the events of this reign in our notice of The Fairfax Correspondence,' we omit further allusion to them now.

Full justice is done by Mr. Macaulay to the personal character of Cromwell, nor are we disposed to take much exception to the view given of his administration. It wanted only the quality of being legal, infinitely to outshine all which had preceded it. England had never witnessed such a combination of legislative wisdom with administrative vigour, and her name consequently rose to an unparalleled height in the estimation of other nations. The following passage will surprise those whose views of the Lord Protector are formed from the scurrilous libels which followed the Restoration.

men.

'A House of Commons was a necessary part of the new polity. In constituting this body, the Protector showed a wisdom and a public spirit which were not duly appreciated by his contemporaries. The vices of the old representative system, though by no means so serious as they afterwards became, had already been remarked by farsighted Cromwell reformed that system on the same principles on which Mr. Pitt, a hundred and thirty years later, attempted to reform it, and on which it was at length reformed in our own times. Small boroughs were disfranchised even more unsparingly than in 1832; and the number of county members was greatly increased. Very few unrepresented towns had yet grown into importance. Of those towns the most considerable were Manchester, Leeds, and Halifax. Representatives were given to all three. An addition was made to the number of the members for the capital. The elective franchise was placed on such a footing, that every man of substance, whether possessed of freehold estates in land or not, had a vote for the county in which he resided. A few Scotchmen and a few of the English colonists settled

in Ireland, were summoned to the assembly which was to legislate at Westminster, for every part of the British isles.'-Ib. p. 135.

Cromwell aimed at governing constitutionally. He sought to substitute the law for the sword, but the nation was torn into factions, and even the best of her sons refused to accept what was practicable, in a passionate pursuit of ideal perfection. 'God,' he exclaimed, when dissolving his second parliament, be judge between you and me.' The very Cavalier was protected, save when he plotted the overthrow of the government. 'Justice was administered between man and man with an exactness and purity not known before. Under no English government, since the Reformation, had there been so little religious persecution. The unfortunate Roman Catholics, indeed, were held to be scarcely within the pale of Christian charity. But the clergy of the fallen Anglican Church were suffered to celebrate their worship, on condition that they would abstain from preaching about politics.' Such was the administration of a man whom several generations have conspired to blacken. His character, however, is now beginning to be known, and our children will place him, by almost universal consent, amongst the best, as well as the ablest, of English rulers.

We are sorry to find Mr. Macaulay attempting to vindicate the treachery-for such, notwithstanding his defence, we must esteem it-of the Convention which recalled the Stuarts. The return of this ill-fated house we admit to have been inevitable. The state of the nation called for it, There was no second Cromwell to ward off the plague, and it is probable, as Mr. Hallam contends, that, if any limitations had been imposed on the royal prerogative, they would have been overruled by the parliament which met after the Restoration. All this we admit, yet it does not in our judgment constitute a defence. The Convention owed it to the great interests at stake to make terms with the exiled prince, and the fact of their not having done so, went far to justify Charles in the claims he subsequently preferred. Such terms, had they been made conditions of his return, would have been of immense advantage to the popular party in the struggle which speedily commenced. They would have superseded many laborious researches into the precedents of ancient times; and though they might not have restrained the monarch from tyranny, they would have branded his despotism-no mean advantage-with a deeper stain of infamy. But the voice of patriotism was overwhelmed amidst the whirl of contending factions. The nation was intoxicated with joy, and Charles II. ascended the throne of his father, to corrupt the morals, and basely to assail the liberty, of his people. We need not descant on what followed. Infidelity and licentiousness deluged the land, and the restored

hierarchy, instead of arresting their progress, contributed, in too many cases, to their potency of mischief.

6

Her whole soul,' says Mr. Macaulay, speaking of the Anglican Church, was in the work of crushing the Puritans, and of teaching her disciples to give unto Cæsar the things which were Cæsar's. She had been pillaged and oppressed by the party which preached an austere morality. She had been restored to opulence and honour by libertines. Little as the men of mirth and fashion were disposed to shape their lives according to her precepts, they were yet ready to fight knee deep in blood for her cathedrals and palaces, for every line of her rubric and every thread of her vestments. If the debauched Cavalier haunted brothels and gambling-houses, he at least avoided conventicles. If he never spoke without uttering ribaldry and blasphemy, he made some amends by his eagerness to send Baxter and Howe to gaol for preaching and praying. Thus the clergy, for a time, made war on schism with so much vigour that they had little leisure to make war on vice. The ribaldry of Etherege and Wycherley was, in the presence and under the special sanction of the head of the Church, publicly recited by female lips in female ears, while the author of the " Pilgrim's Progress" languished in a dungeon for the crime of proclaiming the gospel to the poor. It is an unquestionable and a most instructive fact, that the years during which the political power of the Anglican hierarchy was in the zenith, were precisely the years during which national virtue was at the lowest point.'-Ib. pp. 180, 181.

The government of the Restoration is fruitful in topics of deep interest, on some of which we should be glad to dwell if our space permitted. We must be content, however, to refer to the pages of our author, whose rapid sketch furnishes just that information which the state of historical lore requires. The heartlessness and insincerity of the king, the bitter disappointment of the Cavaliers, the reaction of the public mind, the fall of Clarendon, the policy of the Cabal, the triple alliance and the treaty of Dover, the intrigues of France with the perfidy of Charles on the one hand, and the culpable tactics of Whig leaders on the other, the Exclusion Bill, the Popish and the Rye House plots, the judicial murder of Russell and of Sydney, the persecution of Nonconformists, and the sinister toleration attempted, are rapidly reviewed, and set in a felicitous light. But we must hasten to our more immediate object, before doing which, however, we make room for our author's sketch of the Marquis of Halifax, whom he correctly describes as, in point of genius, the first statesman of the age. We give it as an example of great skill in the delineation of character. Mr. Macaulay possesses in an eminent degree the power of making historical personages live before us. There is nothing of the mere anatomist about him. He deals not in skeletons, but clothes the frame with flesh, and breathes into it a vital spirit. It is impossible to read such a passage as this, without

feeling that we know more of the inner man of the personage described, than is usually learnt from the dry bones which our historians have been content to exhibit. The portrait is more favourable in its moral features at least than that given by Sir James Mackintosh, and is so far, we think, a deviation from the truth. Those who wish to compare the likenesses—and we recommend all who have the opportunity to do so will find the latter in the early part of 'The Causes of the Revolution of 1688.'

'His intellect,' says Mr. Macaulay, was fertile, subtle, and capacious. His polished, luminous, and animated eloquence, set off by the silver tones of his voice, was the delight of the House of Lords. His conversation overflowed with thought, fancy, and wit. His political tracts well deserve to be studied for their literary merit, and fully entitle him to a place among English classics. To the weight derived from talents so great and various, he united all the influence which belongs to rank and ample possessions. Yet he was less successful in politics than many who enjoyed smaller advantages. Indeed, those intellectual peculiarities which make his writings valuable, frequently impeded him in the contests of active life. For he always saw passing events, not in the point of view in which they commonly appear to one who bears a part in them, but in the point of view in which, after the lapse of many years, they appear to the philosophic historian. With such a turn of mind, he could not long continue to act cordially with any body of men. All the prejudices, all the exaggerations of both the great parties in the State, moved his scorn. He despised the mean arts and unreasonable clamours of demagogues. He despised still more the Tory doctrines of divine right and passive obedience. He sneered impartially at the bigotry of the Churchman and at the bigotry of the Puritan. He was equally unable to comprehend how any man should object to saints' days and surplices, and how any man should persecute any other man for objecting to them. In temper, he was what, in our time, is called a Conservative. In theory he was a republican. Even when his dread of anarchy and his disdain for vulgar delusions led him to side for a time with the defenders of arbitrary power, his intellect was always with Locke and Milton. Indeed, his jests upon hereditary monarchy were sometimes such as would have better become a member of the Calf's Head Club than a privy councillor of the Stuarts. In religion, he was so far from being a zealot that he was called by the uncharitable an atheist; but this imputation he vehemently repelled; and in truth, though he sometimes gave scandal by the way in which he exerted his rare powers both of argumentation and of ridicule on serious subjects, he seems to have been by no means unsusceptible of religious impressions.

He was the chief of those politicians whom the two great parties contemptuously called Trimmers. Instead of quarrelling with this nickname, he assumed it as a title of honour, and vindicated, with

* Miscellaneous Works, vol. ii. p. 10.