in conference with the commons; Ireland is in rebellion, and Loudon in commotion, crying for the demolition of the bishops, those lovers of absolutism, and for the protection of their parliament. Defeated at all points, the infatuated king determines on a daring and insane deed. Sixteen years of defeats and humiliations; sixteen years, during which he has been continually worsted by this invulnerable, immovable parliament, and seen it continually advancing out of the defensive into the offensive, and now fast usurping all his most valuable privileges, have never led him to ask himself the plain question—how is it that this parliament has been able to do these aggressive and disloyal deeds in the face of the nation? In this undoubtedly loyal land of England, how is it that every class and order has not started up in indignation, and plucked from this audacious body the usurped rights of sovereignty, and struck down those men for ever as traitors. In all these years of strife, discomfort, and disgrace, it has never gleamed into his soul that the people themselves are one with the parliament, are themselves the very power against which those few individuals lean, and without whom the lords and commons altogether would be as a mere tuft of bullrushes against the sense of the king and the country. The country is with the parliament and against the king It is not merely parliament, much less the commons, still less this little knot of leading man—it is the people of England who no longer put any trust in the king, but who see alone in the seizure of the powers of the whole constitution, the guarantee for its preservation. This is the real cause why the commons are justified in their bold encroachments on the king; and in attempting to seize these half-dozen of undaunted men, Charles is, in fact, vainly attempting to grasp England by the throat, and the upshot will be accordingly. This Pharaoh of the seventeenth century has hardened his heart as often as the Egyptian monomaniac, and, blind to the signs of the times, he now rushes forward to recapture his escaping slaves, and stumbles on destruction It is no longer a constitutional struggle——it is a civil war.
"The house of peer's," says Clarendon, "was somewhat startled by this alarm, but took time to consider it till the next day, that they might see how their masters, the commons, would behave themselves." Lord Kimbolton declared his readiness to meet the charge: the lords sent a message upon the matter to the commons; and at the same time came the view's that officers of the crown were sealing up the doors, trunks, and papers of Pym. Hampden, and the other impeached members. The house immediately ordered the seals put upon the doors and papers of their members to be broken, and they who had presumed to do such an act to be seized and brought before them. At this moment the serjeant-at-arms arrived at the door of the house; they ordered him to be admitted, but without his mace, and having heard his demand for the delivery of the five members, they bade him withdraw, and sent lord Falkland and have other members to inform the king that they held the members ready to answer any legal charge against them. But the next day the commons were informed by captain Languish, that the king, at the head of his gentlemen pensioners, and followed by some hundreds of courtiers and officers, armed with swords and pistols, was advancing towards the house. The house was well supplied with halberds, which they had previously ordered into it when the king withdrew their guard; but they saw the advantage of preventing an armed collision, and ordered the accused members to withdraw. Charles entered the house, attended only by his nephew, Charles, the prince palatine, his attendants remaining in Westminster Hall, and at the door of the commons. As he advanced towards the speaker's chair, he glanced towards the place where Pym usually sate, and then approaching the chair, said, "By your leave, Sir. Speaker, I must borrow your chair a little." The house, at his entrance, arose and stood uncovered; Lenthall, the speaker, dropped upon his knees, and Charles, much excited, said, "Gentlemen, I am sorry for this occasion of coming unto you. Yesterday I sent a sergeant-at-arms to apprehend some, that at my command were accused of high treason, wherewith I did expect obedience, and not a message; and I must declare unto you here, that albeit no king that ever was in England shall be more careful of your privileges, to maintain them to the utmost of his power, than I shall be; yet you must know that in cases of treason no person hath a privilege, and therefore I am come to know if any of those persons that I have accused, for no slight crime, but for treason, are here. I cannot expect that this house can be in the right way that I do heartily wish it, therefore I am come to tell you that I must have them, wheresoever I find them." He looked earnestly round the house, but seeing none of them, demanded of the speaker where they were Lenthall, still on his knees, declared that he had neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak, but as the house directed. "Well," said the king, "since I see all the birds are flown, I do expect that as soon as they return hither, you do send them to me." And with mingled assurances that he meant no force, yet not without a threat, he withdrew. As he walked out, there were raised loud cries of "Privilege! privilege!" and the house instantly adjourned.
There were many speculations as to who had induced him to take this fatal course. Some said the queen had urged him to it, exclaiming, "Go, you coward, and pull the rogues out by the ears, or never see me more!" But Clarendon attributes the advice to Digby who, since he opposed his party about the bishops, had been shunned by them, and had gone over altogether to the king, as Hyde had done also for some time, though he still kept it a secret, and thus was able to give the king intelligence every night of all that passed amongst the reformers in the day. Digby, he says, first advised, and was the first to condemn the deed, when it had so signally failed. There was but one opinion of the act amongst friends and foes. It was the grossest violation of the privileges of parliament that could have been imagined, and Charles soon saw and felt the irremediable blunder that he had committed.
The commons, to testify that they no longer felt themselves safe in their own house, betook themselves to the city, where establishing a permanent committee to sit at Guildhall, they adjourned till the 11th of January. The next day Charles, taking his usual attendants, but leaving behind his reformados and blustering bullies, went into the city, and at Guildhall demanded of the lord mayor and
