facility and purity of elocution, but with such a self-diffidence, that it often made him change his own opinion for a worse, and follow the advice of men whose judgment was far inferior to his own; and none of whom could supply that want of foresight, which was one of his principal and most fatal imperfections. In personal courage and intrepidity, he never was deficient; but unfortunately, he was particularly so, as to that strength of mind, that energy of resolution and enterprise, which could alone enable him to extricate himself from those difficult and critical circumstances in which the unwarrantable imprudence and presumption of his father had thrown the government at the latter end of his life. James I. the greatest arguer that ever sat on the throne, relying on the strength of his arguments, deemed it adequate to maintain as constitutional, those encroachments of discretionary power and stretches of prerogative, which queen Elizabeth had frequently employed, without any opposition, as they were powerfully supported, both by her unparalleled popularity, and by the conviction of her loving, her adoring subjects, that every thing she did, was for their happiness and prosperity. James, in succeeding to her throne, had neither succeeded to her popularity nor to her wisdom; therefore, his claims supported only by precedents of former reigns, which savoured strongly of arbitrary power, being unwarily submitted to the discussion of the parliament, and of the whole nation, by the publication of all the royal and parliamentary speeches on the subject, were at first contested as unconstitutional, and soon after, generally opposed as altogether tyrannical. Instructed, however, by his father, to consider them as an hereditary right, which they were in duty bound to transmit to their successors, Charles engaged in that fatal quarrel, at a time when, instead of doing

any thing to obtain some popularity, he had excited a general outcry by his unbounded fondness, favours, and confidence for an unworthy favourite; for that very Buckingham, whose insolence and incapacity were the least vices, and who, having long been deservedly despised by Charles, found means of ingratiating himself with him, by following him as his squire in his knight-errant journey to Spain, and carried so far his criminal envy against the loyal and really useful friends, both of James I. and Charles, as to induce them, among other instances, to reward the meritorious services and fidelity of the earl of Bristol, by exiling him to his country seat, and bringing soon after against him an accusation of high treason.

These were the most capital faults of the earliest part of Charles's reign. Their consequences soon became so serious and so alarming, that a revolution would have rapidly ensued, had it not been stopped by a timely dissolution of the parliament. It is even probable, that it would have been definitively prevented, had Charles persevered in his wise resolution not to call any more of those assemblies, until the revolutionary ferment, which agitated and inflamed the minds of the whole nation, was completely extinguished. He might have easily prolonged the interval, by continuing to manage the government and administration of public affairs, with the same wisdom, good order and economy, which he successfully displayed during the first ten years, the happiest period the English had ever witnessed. Ten years more would have enabled him to still increase their happiness, by further alleviations of taxes, encouragements to agriculture, industry and commerce. By endearing himself through those means, to the generality of his subjects, he would have convinced them, that if he wished for power, it was neither out of tyranny or

ambition, but out of benevolence, and for their welfarè. He might then have assembled a parliament, without any apprehension of the least encroachment upon his legal authority, as it would have been supported by the unanimous acclamations of a loving and grateful nation. But unfortunately, after nearly ten years of a complete and undisturbed tranquillity, Charles, misled by his religious zeal, was induced to establish rather by authority than persuasion, the English liturgy and episcopacy in Scotland, where the creed of the presbyterian sect almost generally prevailed. The immediate consequence of this fatal attempt, was a war of religion, or rather of fanatacism, in which the Scottish presbyterians not only stirred up, but powerfully supported by their English brethren, who composed the great majority of the late parliaments, and were the most dangerous enemies of the king, were enabled to raise such considerable forces, as obliged the king to levy an army against them. But this expence having more than exhausted all his resources and economies, he was to provide for extraordinary supplies to support that army, and as such as he wanted could not be procured by means authorized either by the constitution or by precedents, for he always scrupled to employ any other; he found, or thought himself reduced to the hard necessity of calling a parliament. But this assembly discovered in their first sitting, such violent and seditious dispositions, as to compel him to dissolve them after a session of twenty-three days. Hapру if such a warning had made him aware, that the time was not yet come when he could expect any assistance from parliaments. But there occur sometimes in the course of human affairs some desperate circumstance, when nothing can be done but faults, even when inaction is one of the worst. The situation of Charles was so much

so, that every step he took advanced his fate. Six months from the last dissolution were no sooner elapsed than he convoked another parliament. This new assembly, mostly composed of the most ardent presbyterians, perceiving, from the necessities of the crown, that the time was now come when the regal authority must fall into a total subordination under popular assemblies, struck almost all at once the most decisive blows. In a few weeks the two most powerful ministers, and the most devoted to the king, Strafford and Laud, were thrown into the Tower, and daily expected to be tried for their life; two other ministers had, by their flight alone, escaped the same fate. The whole sovereign power was transferred to the commons, while Charles, expect ing to regain the confidence of his people by an unbounded compliance, remained passive during these violent usurpations of all his rights. Nay, by giving his assent to that audacious bill, enacting, that the parliament could never be dissolved but with the consent of both houses, he became the most dangerous accomplice of his own ruin, and the patron of that long parliament, who cemented with his royal blood the overthrow of his throne and of the monarchy. All his measures, from the beginning of the last war with Scotland, were attended with the most disastrous consequences; principally his calling a parliament at such a critical juncture; his appointing for the place of their meeting London, where his enemies were the most powerful and numerous; instead of York, where he was at that time, and where the great majority of the inhabitants and neighbourhood were warmly devoted to him; his opening the session before the conclusion of his treaty with the Scots, and transferring its continuation to London, where it was obvious that the Scottish and English presbyterians would immediately unite together, and strenuously support each

All these

other in their respective pretensions. measures were undoubtedly as many capital faults, every one of which was pregnant with the utmost danger. However, as all of them must be ascribed to his want of foresight, none can alter in the least the high veneration, nor soften the deep sorrow due to his unparalleled virtues and calamities. But his assent to the bill of attainder and execution of Strafford, though he was induced to give it by the solicitations of his whole council, the supplications and terrors of his queen, should be an indelible stain to his memory, had not that fault, that great fault, been the constant object of his bitterest remorse to the last moment of his life; when he solemnly declared on the scaffold, that though innocent towards his people, his punishment was just in the eyes of God, for having suffered the unjust sentence against Strafford to be executed. The less he could forgive himself for it, the more he is entitled to history's indulgence. How could the severity of future ages be not disarmed in favour of a prince so virtuous, so magnanimous, and so benevolent as to write a few weeks previous to his murder, to his son the prince of Wales, the letter of which the following passages are the conclusion:

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By what hath been said, you see how long I have laboured in the search of peace; do not you « be disheartened to tread in the same steps. Use all worthy means to restore yourself to your ❝rights; but prefer the way of peace; shew the greatness of your mind, rather to conquer your "enemies by pardoning than by punishing. If you "saw how unmanly and unchristian the implacable

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disposition is in our ill-wishers, you would avoid "that spirit. Censure us not for having parted "with so much of our right; the price was great, "but the commodity was security to us, peace to "my people; and I am confident that another par