The parliament never was before in a more liberal humour.

Ann. 1671.

The commons pass another bill for laying a duty on some commodities. The merchants of London present a petition against it to the upper house. The lords, entering into their reasons, make amendments on the bill. This attempt is highly resented by the lower house, as an encroachment on the right they pretended to possess alone of granting money to the crown. These altercations between the two houses were pushed so far as to oblige the king to prorogue the parliament. This is the last time that the peers have revived any pretensions of that

nature.

At this juncture a private act of arbitrary power, or rather despotism, was the occasion of a great disgust in the house of commons. An imposition upon play-houses being proposed, the courtiers objected, that the players were king's servants, and a part of his pleasure. Sir John Coventry, one of the members of the commons, asked whether the king's pleasure lay among the male or female players? This sarcasm was aimed at Charles, who, besides his mistresses of higher rank, entertained at that time two actresses. Far from receiving this raillery with his wonted good humour, he thought it necessary by some severe chastisement to make Coventry an example to all who might incline to violate the respect due to his majesty. Some offi cers of the guards were ordered to way lay him, and to set a mark upon him. He defended himself with bravery, and, after wounding several of the assailants, was disarmed. They cut his nose to the bone, in order, as they said, to teach him what respect he owed to the king. The commons, inflam

ed at this indignity, passed a law which made it a capital offence to maim any person; and they enacted, that those criminals who had assaulted Coventry should be incapable of receiving a pardon from the

crown.

He

About the same time, Blood, a disbanded officer of Cromwell, who had been attainted for an attempt to surprise the castle of Dublin, meditated revenge upon Ormond, whose vigilance had disappointed him. He attacked his coach in the night time, as it drove along St. James's-street, in London, and he made himself master of his person. might have completed the crime had he not meditated a more refined vengeance. He was resolved to hang the duke at Tyburn, and for that purpose bound him, and mounted him on horseback behind one of his companions. They were advanced a good way into the fields, when the duke inaking efforts for his liberty, threw himself to the ground, and brought down with him the assassin to whom he was fastened. They were struggling together in the mire, when Ormond's servants, whom the áların had reached, came and rescued him. Blood and his companions firing their pistols in a hurry at the duke, rode off, and saved themselves by means of the darkness. Soon after Blood attempted to carry off the crown and the regalia from the Tower. He very nearly succeeded; he had wounded and bound Edwards, the keeper of the jewel office, and was already out of the Tower with his prey, but he was overtaken and seized with some of his associates. One of them was known to have been concerned in the attempt upon Ormond; and Blood was immediately concluded to be the ringleader. He frankly confessed it, but would never tell who were his accomplices. "The fear of death," said he, "should never engage him either to deny a guilt or "to betray a friend." The king was desirous of seeing

a man so noted for his courage and for his crimes; and in this circumstance Blood's address was no less conspicuous. He told the king that he had been engaged with others in a design to shoot him, but that his heart had been checked in the moment of execution by an awe of majesty, and that he had diverted his associates from their purpose. He added, that he was indifferent as to his life, which he now gave up for lost; yet could he not forbear warning the king, that his associates had bound themselves by the strictest oaths to revenge the death of any of the confederacy; and that no precaution or power could secure any one from the effects of their desperate resolutions. Charles not only pardoned the villain, but granted him an estate of five hundred pounds a-year in Ireland, and encouraged his attendance about his person. He shewed him great countenance, and many applied to him for promoting their pretensions at court, while old Edwards, who had bravely ventured his life, and had been wounded in defending the crown and regalia, was neglected and forgotten! What a more disgusting contrast could the annals of despotism present, than that of a knight, a member of parliament, having his nose cut to the bone, as a chastisement for a mere pleasantry; and a vile assassin, who deserved to be detested as a monster and punished with death, receiving a reward of an estate of five hundred pounds a-year, and becoming the king's favourite!

The duchess of York dies, and in her last moments makes an open confession of the catholic religion. Soon after the duke declared himself a catholic.

The king, instead of sending sir William Temple back to Holland, according to his promise, appoint ed, as his ambassador to the states-general, Downing, whom the Dutch regarded as the inveterate enemy

of their republic. In the mean time, to throw upon the Dutch the appearance of blame in the intended rupture, the captain of a yacht, sent for lady Temple, was instructed to sail through the Dutch fleet, which lay on their own coasts, and to make them strike, or fire on them; and to persevere till they should return his fire. The Dutch admiral, surprised at this proceeding, came on board the yacht, and expressed his willingness to pay respect to the British flag according to former practice, but observed, that a fleet on their own coasts, striking to a single vessel, and that not a ship of war, was such an innovation that he durst not, without express orders, agree to it. The captain, thinking it no less dangerous than absurd to renew firing in the midst of the Dutch fleet, continued his course, and for that neglect of orders was committed to the Tower.

The English court postponed several months all complaints on this incident, and when Downing delivered his memorial about it, he was bound by his instructions not to accept of any satisfaction after a certain delay, which was purposely shorter than that required in such cases by the forms of the republic. An answer, however, though refused by Downing, was sent over to London with an ambassador extraordinary, who had orders to use every expedient that might give satisfaction to the court of England. He even went so far as to desire the English ministry to draw up themselves in what terms they pleased the answer they required from him, and he engaged to sign it. The English ministry replied, that it was not their business to draw papers for the Dutch. He brought them accordingly the draught of an article, and asked them whether it was satisfactory. As the paper was not signed they refused to look at it, but they said, that when he had signed and delivered it they would tell him their mind respecting it. He resolved to sign it at

a venture, and demanded a new audience; an hour was appointed for that purpose, but when he attended, he was answered, that the season for negociation was now past.

Ann. 1672.

The large supply Charles had obtained from the commons, under pretence of maintaining the triple league, was already exhausted by debts and expenses. France had promised to send two hundred thousand pounds a-year during the war, but this subsidy was far from being adequate to the immense expense of the English navy. To venture on levying money without consent of parliament, seemed as yet premature, as well as any meeting of that assembly, until the new powers he wanted to assume were so solidly established as to resist all their acts or remonstrances. He accordingly made, during two years, long and frequent prorogations of the parliament, and declared that the staff of treasurer was ready for any one that could find an expedient for supplying his present necessities. Shaftesbury dropped a hint about it to Clifford, who seized it very eagerly, and by carrying it immediately to the king, obtained the promised reward, together with a peerage. This expedient was the shutting up of the exchequer, and the retaining of all the payments which should be made into it, as well as all the money which the bankers habitually consigned in it upon security of the funds, by which they were afterwards reimbursed when the money was levied on the public, and they received for such advances an interest sometimes of eight sometimes of ten per cent.

This unexpected violation of the most solemn engagements both foreign and domestic, threw the