their perfect confidence from the parliament, and,-with that mysterious delight with which the mind of uninstructed man ever views the "divinity that doth hedge a king"-to lean towards the royal cause. It was become a duty to stem the returning tide of misguided loyalty, which not only threatened to retard the further progress of liberty, but might, " by gaining strength, wash away some at least of the bulwarks that had been so recently constructed for its preservation." With this view, the arduous design of framing a general remonstrance on the state of the kingdom, was now in active preparation. Pym and others had been appointed for a similar purpose in the early period of the session, but it had been laid aside in suspense; it was now resumed with uncommon energy. Before the king's departure for Scotland, he had warning* of what was going on. "Some of the commons," said Bishop Williams to his sovereign, "are preparing a declaration to make the acts of your government odious; if you gallop to Scotland, they will post as fast to draw up this biting remonstrance." "Is this credible?" rejoined Charles; "Judge you of that, Sir, when a servant of Pym's, in whose master's house all this is moulded, came to me to know in what terms I was contented to have mine own case in the star-chamber exhibited, among other irregularities." But this warning was treated with scorn, and Charles departed for Scotland. During his absence, this most memorable and elaborate production was presented to parliament, and after a fierce debate, in which Pym acted the most prominent part, and which raged until long after midnight, the remonstrance passed by a majority of nine. "So fierce and long were the disputations about it," says the historian May, "and arguments urged on both sides, that not only the day but a great part of the night was spent in it :”—and the importance attached to the success of this measure by the opposition, was so great that Oliver Cromwell is reported, by Clarendon, to have said, " that if the remonstrance had been rejected, he would have sold all that he had the next morning and never have seen England more." Pym's object was now gained; in the course of three weeks the bitter historical record of all the infelicities of the king's reign was in the hands of every Englishman, and it could not be perused without exciting a burning blush of shame and indignation. The rage of the monarch on receiving this remonstrance knew no bounds; and though restrained from violence at the moment by temperate counsel, it soon afterwards burst forth, and recoiled upon himself with fearful consequences. Without consulting any of his ministers, he conceived the daring project of seizing, in person, the five leading members who had chiefly offended him. That this design was not prosecuted, however, without much misgiving, we learn from a curious account given by Sir W. Cook of Norfolk, fiom Mr. Architel Grey, and from which it appears, that the king, being apprehensive of the hazard of the attempt that had been agreed on at night, went the next morning to the queen's apartment, and finding Carlisle with her majesty, he retired with her into her closet, and there discoursed with her about the consequence of the design, urged many reasons against it, and expressed a resolution not to put it into execution; upon which the queen could no longer contain, but broke into these angry and passionate words: "Alle, poltron-Go, pull these rogues out by the ears, or never see my face more!" which unhappily determined the weak and uxorious husband. All this was of course overheard by the intriguing countess, and as speedily discovered to her favorite Pym, who instantly put the other members on their guard: they concealed themselves in the city, whilst the house, having ordered the Speaker to keep his seat, with the mace lying before him, awaited in awful silence the approach of their strange and unwelcome visitor. A hasty knock threw open the door of the house of commons, and the astonished and indignant members witnessed the most daring and flagrant breach of privilege * D'Israeli. that had ever been attempted by the greatest of tyrants in the worst of times. Charles entered, accompanied only by his nephew, the Palsgrave, having left on the outside the band of armed men who accompanied him. Immediately uncovering himself, the members stood up uncovered. He took the Speaker's chair "by his leave," and immediately turned his eager look to Pym's usual seat by the bar; but he sought in vain for the stout figure of the patriot, with whose person he was well acquainted. He then glanced around, but the multitude of faces, and the sullen and awful silence that prevailed, confused him. At that moment he would have given his crown to be able to retrace his steps, but it was too late! He spoke in a subdued tone, and with an abruptness which made more evident the defect of painful enunciation that had so long accompanied him. He assured them hastily," that no king that ever was in England should be more careful of their privileges, but in case of treason, he held that no person hath a privilege." He took" this occasion again to confirm, that whatever he had done in favour and for the good of his subjects he would maintain." He then called Pym by name-none answered. He asked the Speaker whether he was in the house? Lenthall, inspired by the greatness of the occasion, kneeled to his sovereign and desired him to excuse his answer, for "in this place I have neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak, but as the house is pleased to direct me, whose servant I am." "The birds then are flown!" said Charles, passionately, and insisting hastily that the accused members must be sent to him, or "he must take his own course," left the house. The ominous words, “Privilege! Privilege!" screamed in the ears of the retiring monarch. All hope of compromise was now ended: the King had aimed a deadly blow at the constitution of parliament through the sides of its best supporters : he had declared war against the commons, and a few short months saw him an outlaw from his capital, and beheld the standard of civil war rearing its distracted head over the plains of England. Hampden and other patriots hastened to the field of battle, whilst to Pym was consigned the arduous post of conducting the affairs of parliament. Well did that able man perform the task entrusted to him. In the stormy and untoward year which ensued, he seems to have used exertions almost unparallelled, for to his sleepless vigilance alone is to be attributed the continued ascendancy of the house of commons, though the cause waned in the field. "From three of the clock in the morning to the evening, and from evening to midnight," I learn from contemporary documents, did Pym labour in the service of the commonwealth. Animated by a stern sense of duty, he opposed all efforts for peace, the hope of which indeed he effectually averted by his energetic conduct on the discovery of the poet Waller's plot, the intelligence of which was communicated to him when sitting in church, by one of those spies whom his never ceasing activity had stationed in every corner of London for the safety of the parliament. He immediately started up from his religious duties, and hurried to the house of commons. History tells us the important result of his determined efforts. These things however rendered him not a little unpopular among the lower classes in London, for they were suffering extremely from the privations to which the reverses of the parliament in that year had subjected them; and when "the Earl of Essex was disposed to an inclination towards a treaty, Mr. Pym's power and dexterity wholly changed him, and wrought him to that temper which he afterwards swerved not from."§ The housewives of the city had contracted a dislike to the patriot from a somewhat similar cause; it might be that the interruption of supplies of coals from Newcastle¶ retarded their domestic arrangements; or that an esprit de corps induced them to view Pym with hatred, since he had recently carried through * Rushworth. + Parl. Hist. + Rushworth. § Clarendon. NO. IV.-VOL I. M M Varney's pencil notes. Hatsell. ¶ Hallam. a bold design of impeaching one of their own members,-Henrietta Maria, queen of Charles the first. Be that as it may, Echard tell us, that a great multitude of the wives of substantial citizens (assisted by a large body of men in women's clothes,) came to the house of commons with a petition for peace, and blocked up the door for two hours. "Give us the traitor Pym!" they cried, "that we may tear him in pieces! Give us the dog Pym!"--but a troop of horse dispersed them. The death of that great statesman, however, was approaching but too rapidly without the intervention of the rabble. His frame had sunk beneath his anxious and wearying labours, and he felt that he could not long survive them. Desirous to be well with posterity, for whose rights alone he had lived, he drew up, a few months before his death, a vindication of his conduct from the "desperate and fame wounding aspersions" with which his "reputation and the integrity of his intentions to God, his king, and his country had been invaded" by the royalists of the day. It is written very forcibly, and contains a declaration of his attachment to limited monarchy, and the "protestant religion purged from the haughty power and ambitious pride of the bishops." In conclusion, he solemnly avers that his proceedings never went further "than was warranted by the known laws of the land, and authorized by the indisputable and undeniable power of the parliament; and so long as I am secure in mine own conscience that this is truth, I account myself above all their calumnies and falsehoods, which shall return upon themselves, and not wound my reputation in good and impartial men's opinions." Notwithstanding his declining state, however, the house of commons, desirous of giving him an additional proof of their confidence, conferred on him, in November, 1643, the important office of Lieutenant-General of the Ordnance of the kingdom, *-but the hand of death was upon the inflexible patriot. Within three weeks after the appointment (on the 8th of December,) he died at Derby House. An interesting account of the last moments of his sickness is given us by one who knew him intimately.† From that we learn that he maintained the same "evenness of spirit which he had in the time of his health; professing to myself that it was to him a most indifferent thing to live or die; if he lived he would do what service he could, if he died he should go to that God whom he had served, and who would carry on his work by some others; and to others he said, that if his life and death were put into a balance, he would not willingly cast in one dram to turn the balance either way. This was his temper all the time of his sickness." We learn further from the same interesting memorial, that "such of his family or friends who endeavoured to be near him (lest he should faint away in his weakness,) have overheard him importunately pray for the king's majesty and his posterity, for the parliament and the public cause, for himself begging nothing. And a little before his end, having recovered out of a swound, seeing his friends weeping around him, he cheerfully told them he had looked death in the face, and knew, and therefore feared not the worst it could do, assuring them that his heart was filled with more comfort and joy which he felt from God, than his tongue was able to utter;' and (whilst a reverend minister was at prayer with him,) he quietly slept with his God." After reading this calm and affecting account of the last moments of this conscientious friend of civil and religious freedom, no one will feel disposed to deny the justness of that prophecy, in which the amiable Baxter has indulged in translating Pym into heaven :-" Surely," (I quote from the "Saint's Everlasting Rest" of that good man,) "surely Pym is now a member of a more knowing, unerring, well-ordered, right-aiming, self-denying, unanimous, honourable, triumphant senate, than that from whence he was taken!" His body lay in state some days after his decease, and never was the memory of a public man so idolized by the people, even those who had so lately suffered by his stern patriotism. The journals of the house of commons prove how unprecedented were the honours awarded to their regretted leader; and Clarendon tells us, that he "was buried with wonderful pomp and magnificence in that place where the bones of our English kings and princes are committed to rest." The falsehood of the same noble writer's account of the illness of which this illustrious man died has been proved so often, and is so generally acknowledged, that it is only necessary to advert to it here as one proof out of many of that author's inattention to notorious truth. The character of this great man belongs to his countrymen, and they have reason to be proud of him. To his firm and enlightened determination, to the courage of his spirit and the greatness of his ability, may be attributed, without dread of denial, the preservation of that liberty they enjoy now, too apt to forget its origin and be ungrateful to its promoters.* His eulogium is best written in the history of his actions. "In truth," says my Lord Clarendon, “I think he was the most popular man, and the most able to do hurt that hath lived in any time;"-and if in the exercise of this vast power his intentions were in some few things purer than his practices, we should remember the true saying, that between human intentions and practices little and great passions will sometimes intervene. For his own worldly interests he had assuredly taken little care, for with a vast fund at his disposal, he died so poor, that we learn from the commons' journals his debts were paid by the country. We are told by one of his friends, that "he used to say, 'such a one is my entire friend, to whom I am much obliged, but I must not pay my private debts out of the public stock ;' no self-respect, no private ends of his own or his family were in any degree regarded, but himself and his were wholly swallowed up in his care of the public safety; insomuch, that when his friends have often prest him, that although he regarded not himself, yet he ought to provide that it might be well for his family, (a thing which they thought he might easily procure,) his ordinary answer was, if it went well with the public, his family was well enough."" His singularly commanding abilities have never been disputed. Even the Mercurius Politicus-the Court Journal of that day-in noticing his death, says "he was the greatest speech-maker of all the members." His enemy and rival, Clarendon, tells us, that "he had a very comely and grave way of expressing himself, with great volubility of words, natural and proper;" and even Charles himself ever delighted to refer to the published speeches of Pym, as to a text book of constitutional principles. Had it been the fashion in his time to make speeches, not for the purpose of being heard and straightway acted on, but rather for that of being collected in a volume to be admired and read by future ages, then might the speeches of Pym have rested beside those of an orator of our own day, the great Edmund Burke. Even as it is, those speeches of the early patriot, which, by order of the house of commons, underwent his revision for the purpose of being printed, bear a striking resemblance to those of that greatest of modern orators. They may be read as elaborate and thought Nor, whilst mentioning these great qualities, should a descendant of Pym's be forgotten, the late Samuel Whitbread,-who, related to the patriot by blood, was still more closely allied to him in energy, acuteness, and honest boldness of character. We are all acquainted with the lines of that witty rogue, Peter Pindar-where a certain monarch in a certain brewery. -"turned to Whitbread with complacence round And merry thus addressed the man of beer- What, Whitbread, is it true what people say? Birth-day Ode, 1787. ful essays, in which the precise matter in hand is ever treated in subservience to the great principles which bear upon it. His amazing power, however, consisted chiefly in his resolution and boldness; and, in the clear decided language which he ever used on moments of great emergency, he seems to feel as though he were delivering for posterity a noble precedent and example. In conclusion, one instance shall be given, which may convey a lesson to our own time. Immediately before the civil war, the house of commons feeling itself much clogged and retarded by the irresolution of the upper house, demanded a conference, which Pym conducted. The object of this conference was to convey a friendly intimation to that august body, that they were, as Burke has since characterized them, the weakest part of the constitution, and could not, for an instant, oppose with any chance of success, their adventitious claims to the demands of an unanimous people. Pym was especially requested to "remember the Lords of their duty," and nobly did he perform the office. The conclusion of his speech is conceived in a strain of nervous eloquence, and couched in the honest seriousness and simplicity of the old English tongue. He who reads it now will be induced to direct his attention to the present state of his own country; and it may chance to lead him to fix that point wherein men of all classes may constitutionally unite, in resistance to any body of men (whoever they may be) that strive to press their privileges as burdens on a free people. "We have very often suffered," said Pym, alluding to the attacks lately circulated by the royalists, " under the misinterpretation of good actions, and false imputation of evil which we never intended: so that we may justly purge ourselves from all guilt of being authors of this jealousy and misunderstanding. We have been and are still ready to serve his majesty with our lives and fortunes, with as much cheerfulness and earnestness of affection as ever any subjects were ; and we doubt not but our proceedings will so manifest this, that we shall be as clear in the apprehension of the world as we are in the testimony of our own consciences. I am now come to a conclusion. I HAVE NOTHING TO PROPOUND TO YOUR LORDSHIPS, BY WAY OF REQUEST OR DESIRE, FROM THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. I DOUBT NOT BUT YOUR JUDGMENTS WILL TELL YOU WHAT IS TO BE DONE; YOUR CONSCIENCES, YOUR HONOURS, YOUR INTERESTS, WILL CALL UPON YOU FOR THE doing of it. THE COMMONS WILL BE GLAD TO HAVE YOUR CONCURRENCE AND HELP IN SAVING OF THe kingdom; BUT IF THEY FAIL OF IT, IT SHALL NOT DISCOURAGE THEM IN DOING THEIR DUTY. AND WHETHER THE KINGDOM BE Lost or saved (but I hope, tHROUGH GOD'S BLESSING, IT WILL BE SAVED), THEY SHALL BE SORRY THAT THE STORY OF THIS PRESENT PARLIAMENT SHOULD TELL POSTERITY, THAT IN SO GREAT A DANGER AND EXTREMITY THE HOUSE OF COMMONS Should be enFORCED TO SAVE THE KINGDOM ALONE, AND THAT THE PEERS SHOULD HAVE NO PART IN THE HONOUR OF THE PRESERVATION OF IT-HAVING SO GREAT AN INTEREST IN THE GOOD SUCCESS OF THOSE ENDEAVOURS, IN RESPECT OF THEIR GREAT ESTATES AND HIGH DEGREES OF NOBILITY." CHARLOTTE CORDAY, DUPERRET, AND MARAT. On the 11th of July, 1793, four persons were seated at Duperret's† table. The dinner was a melancholy one. The wine had no longer any charms-they all feared its frankness. Anxiety, hesitation, and trouble were depicted on every face. The reign of terror had already commenced by partial acts of democratic * Clarendon. + Duperret, a patriot member of the Convention; guillotined by the Jacobins. |