jesty very melancholy, and not stirring without double guards; all the avenues and private doors about Whitehall and the park shut up; few admitted to walk in it; the papists, in the mean time, very jocund, and indeed with reason, seeing their own plot brought to nothing and turned to ridicule, and now a conspiracy of protestants, as they called them."

It must be confessed, that Charles, when he was in a pardoning humour, shewed great discrimination in the choice of objects, in whose favour to exercise the divine prerogative of kings. Lord Russel, indeed, must undergo the punishment of the law; but the king, whose nature was always inclined to mercy, said, "that if the lord's were satisfied that West had told all he knew, there was no reason to hang him, because he knew no more; and if men were to be saved for the weight of their discovery, and not for the ingenuousness of it, it might be a means to make a man invent false accusations, which would be mischievous and wicked."* There is great truth in this observation of the king's, and we quarrel not therefore, with this exertion of his prerogative, though in behalf of a most atrocious scoundrel. But we wonder much what consideration it was, which operated so powerfully in his royal breast, as to make him anxious to spare the life of the most notorious villain, that ever filched a purse or cut a throat. The following extract from Evelyn's Journal will explain to whom we allude.

"March 10, 1671.-Dined at Mr. Treasurer's, where dined Monsieur De Gramont, and several French noblemen, and one Blood, that impudent bold fellow, who had not long before attempted to steal the imperial crown itself out of the Tower, pretending only curiosity of seeing the regalia there, when, stabbing the keeper, though not mortally, he boldly went away with it through all the guards, taken only by the accident of his horse falling down. How he came to be pardoned, and even received into favour, not only after this, but several other exploits almost as daring both in Ireland and here, I could never come to understand. Some believed he became a spy of several parties, being well with the sectaries and enthusiasts, and did his majesty services that way, which none alive could do so well as he; but it was certainly as the boldest attempt, so the only treason of this sort that was ever pardoned. The man had not only a daring but a villainous unmerciful look, a false countenance, but very well spoken, and dangerously insinuating."

The author of the Examen alludes to another of this worthy person's most egregious enormities in a passage, from which it would seem that Blood was, at the time of the popish plot, a

*North's Examen.

true blue protestant. "And here the good Colonel Blood, that stole the Duke of Ormond, and if a timely rescue had not come in, had hanged him at Tyburn, and afterwards stole the crown, though he was not so happy as to carry it off,—no player at small games; he, even he, the virtuous Colonel, as this sham-plot says, was to have been destroyed by the papists. It seems these papists would let no eminent protestants be safe. It had been strange if so much mischief had been stirring, and he not come in for a snack." Well, this distinguished person, was, for some reason or other, deemed by his majesty, such a fit object of royal mercy, that he was even at the trouble of sending to the Duke of Ormond, to desire his concurrence in the grace that was meant to be extended to his assassin. To this overture the duke replied, with dignity, that, "if his majesty could forgive him the stealing of his crown, he might easily pardon the assault on my life.” His son, the gallant Ossory, did not so view this unusual extension of royal mercy, with the like equanimity. One day, being in the presence, and seeing the Duke of Buckingham there, whom he suspected, with reason, of having instigated the ruffian to the attempt, he said aloud, " that if his father came to a violent end, he should be at no loss to know the author-should consider Buckingham as the murderer, and pistol him, if he stood behind the king's chair."-He added, that he told him this, in the king's presence, that he might be sure he should keep his word. We are informed by Mr. Hume, that Charles carried his kindness to Blood still farther—that he granted him an estate of five hundred pounds a year-encouraged his attendance about his person, and showed him great countenance, so that many applied to him for promoting their pretensions at court. " And while old Edwards, who had bravely ventured his life, and been wounded in defending the crown and regalia, was forgotten and neglected; this man, who deserved only to be stared at, and detested as a monster, became a species of favourite."* Surely this perversion of all the principles of justice and mercy deserves to be stigmatized by a stronger term, than that by which the historian has designated it: it is an error, which might have excused him, if in recounting it, he had for once lost sight of his never-failing philosophical composure.

It is possible that his majesty himself, as well as his friend. the Duke of Buckingham, might have occasion for the services of Colonel Blood, if he was in the habit of taking such severe revenge for light offences, as the following well-authenticated anecdote, would seem to intimate. Sir John Coventry, having. moved in the house of commons for an imposition on the play

*Carte's Ormond.

houses, Sir John Berkenhead, to excuse them, said, they had been of great service to the king. Upon which Sir John Coventry desired that gentleman to explain, "Whether he meant the men or women players *?" This saying was carried with great indignation to court: it was said, that it would prove a fashion to reflect upon the king, if such a severe notice were not taken of this, as to deter any one from talking at that rate for the future. The Duke of York told Burnet, that he said all he could to divert his majesty from the resolution he took, which was, to send some of the guards, and watch in the streets where Sir John lodged, and leave such a mark on him, as should be "a just revenge for injured fame." In a word, they slit his nose to the bone, to teach him what respect he owed the king's majesty. From this atrocious deed, perpetrated by the order of a king, upon the person of a subject, we derive at least one benefit; namely, the Coventry act, which makes cutting and maiming the person, with intent to disfigure, felony, without benefit of clergy. It would seem, by this act, with whatever good humour Charles ordinarily bore even the most cutting retorts, he could be roused into anger, when the persons, by whom they were made, happened to be offensive to him on other accounts. This was, indeed, the tiger-stroke of fell and savage purpose, when, in the midst of his fawning and fascinating play, the young monster of the jungle unsheathes his claws, and, quick as lightning, darts them into the secure and confiding arm of him who is caressing him. Indeed, so much is it at variance with the usual tenor of Charles's general bearing and demeanor, among the great liberties he allowed to all persons with whom he had any intercourse, that we could be led almost to discredit the truth of the fact, if we had not too great a respect for the word of the right reverend historian, who affirms that he had it from the king's own brother. And from other accounts it is clear, if the king did not order the execution of the deed, he at least countenanced and protected those who had perpetrated it. Besides, the story is too much akin to another related of his behaviour to Lord Mulgrave, who was suspected of entertaining an undue attachment to the Princess Anne. To cure him of his love, by depriving him of life, the king sent him to Tangiers, at the head of some troops, in a leaky vessel, which, it was supposed, must have perished in the voyage. Mulgrave, though apprised of the purpose for which he was sent, yet had the noble daring to undertake the expedition, which the Earl of Plymouth, a son of the king's, generously insisted upon sharing, and was killed at Tangiers.

樂 Andrew Marvel.

After enumerating so many circumstances, which must be allowed to militate exceedingly against the received notion of his extraordinary good-nature-to leave the reader in better humour with the merry monarch—we will, before turning down this page of his character, mention one or two that show him in a more favourable light. During the fire of London, the king was almost all day long on horse-back with his guards, seeing to all that could be done, either for quenching the fire, or for carrying off persons and goods to the fields all about London. He was never observed to be in so much concern about any thing in his whole life, as about this*." It is not, indeed, imaginable," says Mr. Evelyn, "how extraordinary the vigilance and activity of the king were, even labouring in person, and being present to command, order, reward, or encourage workmen, by which he showed his affection to his people, and gained theirs. God grant mine eyes may never behold the like, who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one flame; the noise, and cracking, and thunder of the impetuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches, were like an hideous storm, and the air all about so hot and inflamed, that at last one was not able to approach it; so that they were forced to stand still, and let the flames burn on, which they did for near two miles in length and one in breadth." In this scene of confusion and horror, to be found labouring and directing-straining every nerve, and sharing in every fatigue and danger with his people-he, whose most vigorous exercise was usually but a brisk four-hours' walk up and down the mall of St. James's Park, was at once like, and very unlike, a king.

Charles's behaviour to Lord Argyle, as if to compensate for the wrong done to his father, seems to have been generous and kind throughout; and it redounds yet more to the King's credit, if it be true, that the latter, when Lord Lorn, had treated him harshly when he was little better than a prisoner in Scotland. When Lord Argyle had fled from the infamous sentence, which the Duke of York, then his brother's commissioner in Scotland, had obtained against him, and was in hiding in London, some evil-minded officious person went and told the king of it. But Charles would have no search made for him, and forbad them to molest him, retaining still his former kindness for that ill-fated nobleman. To have taken, indeed, active measures against him, would have only made him the abettor of his brother's outrageous tyranny; still his forbearance was generous, and so far we give him credit for good nature.

* Burnet.

Charles after all was not a man, generally speaking, to stand in the way of a victim at the last gasp, with the hounds full in view; but much more likely to give him free passage, and to further his retreat. We sometimes find him extending his protection to those whose safety was menaced by the violent proceedings of government; and we recollect to have read in Burnet, or elsewhere, of his giving a Scottish nobleman an assurance under his own hand and seal, that let him serve God in what way he pleased, he should suffer no molestation. We wish more instances of this sort were on record, to authorize, in some degree, the affection which a reader of history cannot help entertaining for his memory, in spite of the hollowness and insincerity of his character. Historians, we will charitably suppose, have been more successful in discovering the bad, than the good of his actions, and that there existed more causes for that passionate grief, which the author of the Examen assures us was observable in all men at the time of his death, than they have handed down to posterity.

pur

"It was almost generally to be observed about town, that folks were all very inquisitive, perpetually asking one another, without regard to strangers, or acquaintance, (all were acquainted for that pose) What news? How is the king? and the like. The council took care to comfort them from time to time, as far as might be done, by the public intelligence; and so it stood in the face of the public till the deplorable loss was made known; whereat the national sorrow is not, from any known precedent, capable of being described. The people, in general, were very passionately concerned, they were all witnesses for one another, as I, for one amongst the rest, am; and so deeply, that it was not obvious to observe a person walking in the streets with dry eyes."

Charles's vicious habits and profligate morals are ascribed, in a great measure, by Burnet, to the Duke of Buckingham, who, upon his return, from his travels, in the year fortyfive, found him newly come to Paris, having been sent over by his father, when his affairs began to decline. Hereupon, the duke, who was then got into all the vices and impieties of the age, finding the young prince apt enough to receive ill impressions, set himself to corrupt his morals, in which design he was ably seconded by the Lord Piercy; and to them was owing the chief blame of the king's corrupt and vicious life.

We have the irrefragable testimony of the Duke of Ormond to the licentiousness of Charles's life, when an exile, and a wanderer abroad :-" His majesty spent most of his time with confident young men, who abhorred all discourse that was serious, and, in the liberty they assumed in drolling and railling,