CHAPTER II.

PARLIAMENTARY LIFE UNDER THE STUARTS; PAID MEMBERS.

The days of the Long Parliament were fruitful in frank out-of-door expressions of opinion under the rule of Charles I. and the Commonwealth; but, although political feelings were embittered, it does not appear that the franchise was exposed to any undue influence worth recording. A certain amount of governmental favour was reckoned of use in isolated instances; this patronage was considered safe to return nominees for such places as the Cinque Ports. But few election squibs, pure and simple, can be discovered before the Restoration. Ballads are less rare; these for the most part deal with the broader party relations, and are confined within discreet limitations, for “privilege of parliament” was rigorously enforced under Cromwell. On the disappearance of the Commonwealth, the spirits of the Cavalier wits and rhymsters revived, with all the more liveliness for their long-enforced repression. As an animated and characteristic example of the ballads produced at the close of the stern conventicle _régime_, we include the _jeux d’esprit_ written upon the moribund parliament, when it was no longer formidable,--dissolution having, for the time being, shorn its far-reaching and vengeful claws, while a changed head of the State had rendered its return to a lease of power extremely problematical. It is fair to say that, for the most part, the disappearance of this straight-laced and tyrannical House of Commons was hailed as a national relief: the theory of flying “to ills we know not of” had yet to be realized with the gradual development of the Merry Monarch’s selfish and ruinous system, the most iniquitous ever tolerated.

“A GENERAL SALE OF REBELLIOUS HOUSEHOLD STUFF.

“Rebellion hath broken up House, And hath left some old Lumber to sell; Come hither and take your choice-- I’ll promise to use you well. Will you buy th’ old Speaker’s chair, Which was warm and easy to sit in, And oftentimes hath been made clean, When as it was fouler than fitting? Will you buy any Bacon-flitches They’re the fattest that ever were spent; They’re the sides of th’ old Committees Fed up with th’ Long Parliament. Here’s a pair of bellows and tongs, And for a small matter I’ll sell ’em; They’re made of the Presbyters’ lungs To blow up the Coals of Rebellion. Here’s the besom of Reformation, Which should have made clean the floor; But it swept the wealth out of the nation, And left us dirt good store. Here’s a roll of States tobacco If any good fellow will take it; It’s neither _Virginia_ nor _Spanish_, But I’ll tell you how they do make it; ’Tis _Covenant_ mixt with _Engagement_, With an _Abjuration Oath_; And many of them that did take it, Complain it is foul in th’ mouth. A Lantern here is to be bought, The like was scarce ever begotten, For many a plot ’t has found out, Before they ever were thought on. Will you buy the _Rump’s_ great saddle Which once did carry the nation? And here’s the Bit and the Bridle, And Curb of Dissimulation. Here’s the Breeches of the _Rump_ With a fair dissembling cloak, And a _Presbyterian_ Jump With an _Independent_ Smock. Here’s Oliver’s Brewing vessels, And here’s his Dray and slings; Here’s Hewson’s awl and his bristles, With divers other odd things. And what doth the price belong To all these matters before ye? I’ll sell them all for an old song, And so I do end my story.”

From the pages of Pepys we are reminded that members of parliament were paid for their services up to Charles II.’s reign.

It might be expected that the secretary’s “Diary” would contain some pertinent observation upon elections; he has set down a good deal upon parliamentary matters that is curious and enlightening, but the diary ceases in May, 1669, and the more remarkable election contests commenced later.

Samuel Pepys was evidently as indifferent as were the courtiers of his day to the relatively vital importance of the Commons to the State. While accompanying the reforming member William Prynne, who had accused Sir G. Carteret of selling places,[4] from Whitehall to the Temple, the diarist in return for the hospitality of his coach, endeavoured to obtain some information by the way as to the manner of holding parliaments, and whether the number of knights and burgesses were always the same. To which Prynne replied--

“that the latter were not; but that, for aught he can find, they were sent up at the discretion, at first of the Sheriffs, to whom the writs were sent to send up generally the Burgesses and citizens of their county, and he do find that heretofore the Parliament-men, being paid by the country, several boroughs have complained of the Sheriffs putting them to the charge of sending up Burgesses.”

This conversation was in January, 1668; in March, Pepys describes his dining with certain counsel retained by creditors of the navy, the secretary having been to Cursitor Street to arrange assignments on the Exchequer to the tune of £1,250,000 in favour of these creditors. The counsel were pleased to flatter Mr. Secretary upon a recent performance of his in the Parliament House, and, finding himself with four learned lawyers, Pepys, with his dinner, enjoyed what he calls “a great deal of good discourse about parliament”--

“their number being uncertain, and always at the will of the king to increase, as he saw reason to erect a new borough. But all concluded the bane of the Parliament hath been the leaving off the old custom of the places allowing wages to those that served them in Parliament, by which they chose men that understood their business and would attend it, and they could expect an account from, which now they cannot, and so the Parliament is become a company of men unable to give account for the interest of the place they serve for.”

Andrew Marvell, member for Hull, who had enjoyed much experience of men and measures, found fit subject for satire among the corrupt comrades who now surrounded him in parliament.

“_C._ That traitors to th’ Country in a brib’d House of Commons Should give away millions at every summons.

_W._ Yet some of those givers such beggarly villains As not to be trusted for twice twenty shillings.

_C._ No wonder that beggars should still be for giving, Who, out of what’s given, do get a good living.

_W._ Four Knights and a knave, who were burgesses made, For selling their consciences were liberally paid.

_C._ How base are the souls of such low-priced sinners, Who vote with the country for Drink and for Dinners.

_W._ ’Tis they that brought on us this scandalous yoke, Of excising our cups, and taxing our smoke.

_C._ But thanks to the Harlots who made the King dogg’d, For giving no more the Rogues are prorogued.”

(ANDREW MARVELL, 1674: _A Dialogue between Two Horses_.)

From his “good discourse on parliament,” Mr. Secretary Pepys, by a happy coincidence, straightway betook himself to that palace, where he had the privilege of being well received, and in which, under the Stuarts, more curious scenes were witnessed than falls to the lot of even the average of princely abodes:--

“Thence to Whitehall, where the Parliament was to wait on the King, and they did: and he did think fit to tell them that they might expect to be adjourned at Whitsuntide, and that they might make haste to raise their money: but this, I fear, will displease them, who did expect to sit as long as they pleased.”

A truly regal reception, and a most unceremonious mode of dismissing the “chosen of the people.” The wits of the day thus tersely summed up the situation of affairs:--

“I’ll have a long parliament always to friend, And furnish my treasure as fast as I spend, And if they will not, they shall have an end.”

(A. MARVELL: _Royal Resolutions_.)

Perhaps the most felicitous sallies were due to the pen of that gifted reprobate, the Earl of Rochester, at times the _alter ego_ of the Merry Monarch, but who finally, after enjoying boundless favour by diverting the king at his own royal expense as often as at that of his subjects, pointed a shaft with too galling a barb, and flitted away from a Court whose vileness he both exposed and shared in equally liberal measure:--

“A parliament of knaves and sots, Members by name you must not mention, He keeps in pay, and buys their votes; Here with a place, there with a pension. When to give money he can’t cologue ’um, He doth with scorn prorogue, prorogue ’um.

But they long since, by too much giving, Undid, betray’d, and sold the nation; Making their memberships a living Better than e’er was sequestration. God give thee, Charles, a resolution To damn the knaves by Dissolution.”

Later, Pepys is in conference with the king and the Duke of York (April, 1668) upon no less a subject than “about the Quakers not swearing, and how they do swear in the business of a late election of a Knight of the Shire of Hertfordshire in behalf of one they have a mind to have,” which diverts the monarch mightily.

We have seen how the juris-consultists who lived contemporaneously with the system of “paid members” considered the impartiality of representatives was protected from outside influences by the receipt of a small independence; later on we find that, owing to a dispute between the two Chambers, the impression was arrived at by the Peers that no salaried judges can be deemed impartial, and that hereditary legislators are the only reliable tribunals whence unimpeachable justice could be secured.

On a question of privilege between the Lords and Commons (May, 1668), when the latter took upon themselves to remedy an error of the Upper Chamber, Lord Anglesey informed the Commons that the Lords were “_Judices nati et Conciliarii nati_, but all other Judges among us are under salary, and the Commons themselves served for wages; and therefore the Lords, in reason, were the freer Judges.”

The circumstance of receiving a salary does not appear to have compromised the independence of members, but to the contrary, as they were thus enabled to keep their honesty the purer, by resisting the venal attacks of the Court. The integrity of members seems to have suffered when their fees were no longer recognized. The “Pensioner Parliament” came into existence precisely at the epoch when representatives remitted “their wages;” a significant circumstance, but indicative of the times; when selfishness usurped the place of patriotism, members sacrificed the modest retainers designed to keep them honest, that they might be the less fettered to bargain in their own interests.

“The senate, which should head-strong Princes stay, Let’s loose the reins, and gives the Realm away; With lavish hands they constant tributes give, And annual stipends for their guilt receive.”

(ANDREW MARVELL: _An Historical Poem_.)

The proverbial incorruptibility of Andrew Marvell is a case in point. This example of a true patriot is erroneously said to have been the last member who received wages from his constituents. He died in 1678, M.P. for Hull.[5] Others, his contemporaries, maintained the right, and suffered their arrears to accumulate, as a cheap resource at the next election. Marvell more than once, in his correspondence, speaks of members threatening to sue their boroughs for pay.[6] Lord Braybrooke, in his notes to Pepys’s “Diary,” refers to a case, noticed by Lord Campbell in his “Life of Lord Nottingham,” where the M.P. for Harwich, in 1681, petitioned the Lord Chancellor, as that borough had failed “to pay him his wages.” A writ was issued “De expensis Burgensium levandis.” Lord Campbell adds, “For this point of the People’s Charter [payment of wages] no new law is required.”[7]

Pepys’s later allusions concern the constantly threatened dissolutions; in November, 1668, he records, “The great discourse now is that the Parliament shall be dissolved and another called, which shall give the King the Dean and Chapter’s lands, and that will put him out of debt,” concluding with a hint that the subtle and “brisk” Duke of Buckingham, at that time the actual ruler of the kingdom, “does knowingly meet daily with Wildman and other Commonwealth-men,” the while deceiving Charles into the belief that his intrigues were of a more tender nature.

At Whitehall, the same month, Pepys acquires some fresh and rather significant information upon the subject of the Commons; it is imparted to him that--

“it was not yet resolved whether the Parliament should ever meet more or no, the three great rulers of things now standing thus:--The Duke of Buckingham[8] is absolutely against their meeting, as moved thereto by his people that he advises with, the people of the late times, who do never expect to have anything done by this Parliament for their religion, and who do propose that, by the sale of the Church lands, they shall be able to put the King out of debt: my Lord Keeper is utterly against putting away this and choosing another Parliament, lest they prove worse than this, and will make all the King’s friends, and the King himself, in a desperate condition: my Lord Arlington [being under suspicion, owing to his mismanagement of money in Ireland] knows not which is best for him, being to seek whether this or the next will use him worse. It was told me that he believes that it is intended to call this Parliament, and try them for a sum of money; and, if they do not like it, then to send them going, and call another, who will, at the ruin of the Church perhaps, please the King with what he will have for a time.”

These passages need no comment, the accepted ideas upon representative government under the House of Stuart were such as to fill constitutional minds with amazement. This view is endorsed by a popular ballad of the day:--

“Would you our sov’reign disabuse, And make his parliament of use, Not to be chang’d like dirty shoes? This is the time.”

The inconsistency of the king’s behaviour, and the triviality of his mind--when applied to matters of business, and especially that of parliament--is happily held up to ridicule by one of his contemporary wits, who has thus parodied the expected speech from the throne:--

“HIS MAJESTY’S MOST GRACIOUS SPEECH TO BOTH HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT.

”MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,

“I told you at our last meeting the Winter was the fittest time for business; and truly I thought so, till my Lord Treasurer assured me the Spring was the best season for salads and subsidies: I hope, therefore, that April will not prove so unnatural a month as not to afford some kind showers on my parched Exchequer, which gapes for want of them. Some of you perhaps will think it dangerous to make me too rich; but I do not fear it, for I promise you faithfully whatever you give me I will always want; and altho’ in other things my word may be thought a slender authority, yet in that you may rely upon me, I will never break it.

“My Lords and Gentlemen, I can bear my straits with patience; but my Lord Treasurer does protest to me, that the Revenue, as it now stands, will not serve him and me too; one of us must pinch for it if you do not help me. I must speak freely to you, I am under circumstances, for, besides my Harlots on service, my reformado Concubines lie heavy upon me. I have a passable good estate, I confess; but, Gads-fish, I have a great charge upon’t. Here’s my Lord Treasurer can tell, that all the money design’d for the next summer’s guards must of necessity be apply’d to the next year’s cradles and swaddling clothes. What shall we do for ships then? I hint this only to you, it being your business, not mine. I know by experience I can live without ships; I liv’d ten years abroad without, and never had my health better in my life; but how you will be without I leave to yourselves to judge, and therefore hint this only by the by; I don’t insist upon it. There’s another thing I must press more earnestly, and that is this. It seems a good part of my revenue will expire in two or three years, except you will be pleased to continue it. I have to say for’t, Pray why did you give me so much as you have done, unless you resolve to give on as fast as I call for it? The nation hates you already for giving so much, and I will hate you too if you do not give me more; so that if you stick not to me, you must not have a friend in England. On the other hand, if you will give me the revenue I desire, I shall be able to do those things for your Religion and Liberty that I have had long in my thoughts, but cannot effect them without a little more money to carry me through. Therefore look to’t, and take Notice that if you do not make me rich enough to undo you, it shall lie at your doors, for my part I wash my hands on’t. But that I may gain your good opinion the best way is to acquaint you what I have done to deserve it out of my royal care for your religion and your property. For the first, my proclamation is a true picture of my mind: he that cannot, as in a glass, see my zeal for the Church of England, does not deserve any farther satisfaction, for I declare him wilful, abominable, and not good. Some may perhaps be startled, and cry--how comes this sudden change? To which I answer I am a changeling, and that’s sufficient, I think. But to convince men farther that I mean what I say, there are these arguments. _First_, I tell you so, and you know I never break my word. _Secondly_, my Lord Treasurer says so, and he never told a lie in his life. _Thirdly_, my Lord Lauderdale will undertake it for me, and I should be loth by any act of mine he should forfeit the credit he has with you.

* * * * *

“I must now acquaint you, that by my Lord Treasurer’s Advice, I have made a considerable retrenchment upon my expenses in Candles and Charcoal, and do not intend to stop there, but will, with your help, look into the late embezzlements of my dripping-pans and kitchen stuff; of which, by the way, upon my conscience, neither my Lord Treasurer nor my Lord Lauderdale are guilty. I tell you my opinion, but if you should find them dabbling in that business, I tell you plainly I leave ’em to you; for I would have the world know I am not a man to be cheated.

“My Lords and Gentlemen, I desire you to believe me as you have found me; and I do solemnly promise you, that whatsoever you give me shall be specially manag’d with the same conduct, trust, sincerity, and prudence, that I have ever practised since my happy Restoration.”

The commencement of party warfare as now recognized in parliamentary life may be dated from the Stuarts, and to account for the designations of Whig and Tory it is necessary to glance back at the parliamentary troubles of Charles II., 1679-1680, when that monarch, acting under the encouragement of Louis XIV., was inclined to make a misguided attempt to govern without a legislative chamber. In 1679 the monarch refused a Speaker to his Commons, finding that functionary obnoxious; and between this date and 1681 parliament was prorogued seven times: in fact--as a summary of Charles II.’s parliaments discloses--the discords of the previous reign were revived; the “town and country party” petitioned zealously for the reassembling of parliament, while the Court party counter-petitioned “to declare their _abhorrence_ of the late tumultuary petitioning.” Those who were urging on the struggle for popular representation and freedom were designated _Petitioners_, the king’s “friends” were voted “betrayers of the liberties of the people, and abettors of arbitrary power,” and expressively stigmatized as _Abhorrers_;[9] from these two parties, which were ready to exterminate one another, arose the nicknames of Whigs and Tories, as is explained in Tindal’s “Rapin.”[10]

The “Abhorrers,” who were the mainstay of Charles’s utterly unconstitutional procedure, although as courtiers they hoped for their reward from the king, did not get much tolerance from the Commons: when the parliament at last reassembled, several members were expelled from the House on this pretence alone, and they consigned to the Tower that Sir Francis Withers who had been knighted for procuring and presenting the loyal address from the city of Westminster; the majority at the same time recording, as a gage of battle to their opponents, the resolution (October, 1680), “That it is the undoubted right of the subject to petition for the calling of a parliament, and that to traduce such petitions as tumultuous and seditious is to contribute to the design of altering the constitution.” The Tories at that time and long after maintained the doctrines of “divine hereditary indefeasible right, lineal succession, passive obedience, prerogative, etc.”

That a determined attitude was felt to be fitting is exhibited in the protests of the House, printed for circulation, like the following:--

“Wednesday, October 27, 1680.

“Two Unanimous votes of this present Honourable and Worthy Parliament concerning the subjects’ rights in Petitioning.

“_Resolved, Nemine Contradicente_,--

That it is and ever hath been the undoubted Right of the subjects of England to petition the King for calling and sitting of parliaments, and redressing of Grievances.

“_Resolved, Nemine Contradicente_,--

That to traduce such Petitioning is a violation of duty, and to represent it to his Majesty as Traitorous and seditious, is to betray the Liberty of the Subjects, and contributes to the design of subverting the ancient, legal Constitution of this Kingdom, and the Introducing Arbitrary Power.

“_Ordered_--That a Committee be appointed to enquire of all those Persons as have offended against these Rights of the subject.

“London: Printed for Francis Smith, Bookseller, at the Elephant and Castle, near the Royal Exchange in Cornhill.”

Francis Smith was the publisher--

“who suffered a Chargeable Imprisonment in the Gaol of Newgate, in December last, for printing and promoting Petitions for the Sitting of this present Parliament.”

He is referred to with acrimony in the ballads by Tantivy and courtier bards, among the “pestiferous crew of republican scribes.”

Charles’s first parliament was, amid the confusion of the time (the revolution subverted and royalty restored), barely constituted; it lasted from April 25, 1660, to December 29th, and, being assembled without the king’s writ, was, with customary royal ingratitude for “past favours,” considered by Charles as the _Convention_ Parliament.[11] The long _Cavalier Parliament_, some portion of which, like the king, was in the pay of Louis XIV., is stigmatized to posterity as the “Pensionary” Parliament; it met May 8, 1661, and lasted until January 24, 1679; the members were doubly corrupt, accepting money-bribes or lucrative offices from the Court, or being, according to Barillon’s clear declarations, in the pay of France and Holland, as regarded the patriotic members, who fiercely denounced the venality of the Court. In 1675 the oath against bribery was opportunely inaugurated, providing against corruption either from the Crown or from any ambassador or foreign minister. The Pensionary Parliament, which began its career by servile loyalty, and was merciless against Republicans, towards its close opposing the unreasonable extension of prerogative became factious and insubordinate, arrogating to itself the control of legal procedure, and, according to the opinions of extreme Royalists, generally proving itself a “scourge.”

The popular view of this venal legislature is given in the following version:--

“A PENSIONER PARLIAMENT:

ANSWER TO THE BALLAD CALLED ‘THE CHEQUER INN.’

“I.

“Curse on such representatives! They sell us all, our bairns and wives, (Quoth Dick with indignation); They are but engines to raise tax, And the whole business of their acts Is to undo the nation.

“II.

“Just like our rotten pump at home, We pour in water when ’twon’t come, And that way get more out, So when mine host does money lack, He money gives among the pack, And then it runs full spout.

“III.

“By wise Volk, I have oft been told, Parliaments grow nought as they grow old, We groan’d under the Rump, But sure this is a heavier curse, That sucks and drains thus ev’ry purse, By this old Whitehall pump.”

Another warning note is struck in the following ballad, aimed at the reprobated Pensionary Parliament:--

“THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE TO BE LET.

“1678.

“Here’s a House to be let, For Charles Stuart swore By Portsmouth’s honour He would shut up the door.

“Enquire at the Lodgings Next door to the pope, At Duke Lauderdale’s head With a cravat of Rope,

“And there you will hear How next he will let it, If you pay the old price You may certainly get it.

“He holds it in-tail From his Father, who fast Did keep it long shut, But paid for’t at last.”

Charles II.’s third, or _Habeas Corpus_ Parliament, showed a determination to exceed its predecessor in opposing the Court, and seemed ambitious of imitating that of 1640, the reminiscences of which were still of a portentous character, and filled with dread as regarded the survivors of those uncompromising times:--

“The _Habeas Corpus_ act is past, And so far we are safe; He can’t imprison us so fast, But straight we have relief; He can’t deny us aught we ask, In so much need he stands; And before that we do money give, We’ll tie up both his hands.”

Charles very naturally found this parliament beyond his control, so it was prorogued May 27, 1679, to the 14th of August, but dissolved on the 10th of July. The whole country was in commotion during August and September in electioneering contests, preparing for the fourth parliament. It is to be regretted that electioneering broadsides have, as a rule, been allowed to perish; they would prove a mine of curious information.

The following is a pertinent allusion to the eventualities of the “poll:”--

“But most men did think He had not so much chink, Nor could pay for the poll of the County, And therefore did fear It would cost them too dear Should they accept of his Bounty.”

(_The Worcestershire Ballad._)

The opprobrious terms of Whigs and Tories were freely exchanged. Here is a Whig’s view of the “king’s men:”--

“As Rascals changing rags for scarlet coats, Cudgell’d before, set up to cut Whig throats.”

The wit lay rather with the Cavaliers, though it must be confessed their opponents had the best of the argument when reasoning on facts.

The definition of the nickname _Tory_, as it originally arose, is given in “A New Ballad” (Narcissus Luttrell’s Collection):--

“The word _Tory’s_ of Irish Extraction, ’Tis a Legacy that they have left here, They came here in their brogues, And have acted like Rogues, In endeavouring to learn us to Swear.”

By way of answer, the Tories exulted in their loyalty:--

“Let Tories guard the King, Let Whigs on halters swing.”

The Court party denounced--

“Visions, Seditions, And railing Petitions.”

The designs of the various factions were thus summed up:--

“Sir Tom would hang the _Tory_, And let the _Whig_ go free: Sir Bob would have a Commonwealth And cry down Monarchy.”

The Tories retaliated upon their antagonists with interest, though they feared the zealots not a little, as the following ballad illustrates:--

“What! Still _ye Whigs_ uneasie! Will nothing cool your brain, Unless Great _Charles_, to please ye, Will let _ye_ drive his Wain? That _Peer-less_ House of Commons, So zealous for the Lord, Meant (piously) with some on’s To flesh the Godly sword.”

(_A Tory in a Whig’s Coat._)

One of the most popular “counter-blasts” to the Whig pretensions is embodied in the following parody, which enjoyed considerable favour, though not equal to Andrew Marvell’s diatribes “on the other side:”--

“A LITANY FROM GENEVA,

IN ANSWER TO A LITANY FROM ST. OMER.

“From the force and the fire of th’ Insolent Rabble That would hurl the Government into a Babel, And from the nice fare of the Mouse-starver’s table, _Libera nos Domine_.

“From a surfeit occasion’d by Protestant feasts From Sedition for sauce, and Republicks for guests, With Treason for Grace-cup, or Faction at least, _Libera nos_.

“From the blind Zeal of all Democratical tools, From Whigland, and all its Anarchical rules, Devisèd by knaves and imposèd by fools. _Libera nos._

“From Parliamentarians, that out of their Love And care for his Majesty’s safety, would prove The securest way were his Guards to remove. _Libera nos._

“From a Protestant Church where a Papist must reign, From an Oxford Parliament call’d in vain, Who because Fitz-Harris the plot would make plain, Was dissolv’d in a fit and sent home again. _Libera nos._”

The newly elected parliament, the materials of which were equally unpalatable to the Court party, was summoned to meet in October, 1679, but, prorogued during the royal pleasure, it did not actually meet until October 21, 1680. The interval was marked by the presentation of loyal addresses and petitions for its reassembling. Further prorogued on the 10th of January, it was dissolved on the 18th, to be followed by the “Oxford Parliament” of eight days, which was dissolved on March 28, 1681. The nation saw itself on the verge of civil war, and, remembering what it had suffered--while opposing the encroachments of the Crown and autocratic exactions--from the opposite extremes of anarchy and fanaticism, the people were resigned to temporize, and thus Charles was allowed to rule without a parliament until his death.

The following satire is well-founded, and pertinent to the prevalent state of affairs:--

“THE STATESMAN’S ALMANACK.

Being an excellent new Ballad, in which the qualities of each month are considered, whereby it appears that a parliament cannot meet in any of the old months; with a proposal for mending the Calendar. Humbly offered to the packers of the next parliament,”

--which, as it fell out, never reassembled during the reign of the Merry Monarch. The rhymster, after rehearsing the sufficient reasons why every month, from January to December, is unfitted, according to the royal inclinations, for the assembling of a parliament, concludes with a prayer by way of--

EPILOGUE.

“Ye Gypsies of Rome That run up and down, And with miracles the people cozen, By the help of some saint Get the month which you want And make up a baker’s dozen.

“You see the old Year Won’t help you ’tis clear, And therefore to save your Honour, Get a new Sun and Moon, And the work may be done, And ’fore _George_ it will never be sooner.”

The political squibs of this time are chiefly written by Cavaliers, and give a one-sided view, from which, however, much may be gathered. Though not actually election addresses, they refer to the claims which the electors of the kingdom found themselves constrained to address to the throne.

Among the collection of “Bagford Ballads,” so capably edited and illustrated by J. W. Ebsworth, M.A.,[12] is a group of parliamentary election ballads, apparently of the date 1679-80, and relating to Essex, Buckinghamshire, Wiltshire, and the Universities. The Titus Oates plot; the Duke of York and his threatened exclusion from the succession; the impeachment by the Commons of a secretary of State, of Lord Danby, lord-treasurer; with the opposing designs of the Papists and the rabid Dissenters; and, above all, the petitions and the counter-petitions, seem the leading topics of these satires: but they do not contain much enlightenment upon elections, pure and simple. “The Essex Ballad,” humorously explains the _modus operandi_ of the “abhorred” petitions.

“In Essex, much renowned for Calves, And giving verdicts in by halves, For Oysters, Agues, and for Knaves Of Faction, One Peer, and men of worship four, With gentlemen some half a score, Did draw in ten Dutch Ells of Bore To Action.[13] The Squire, whose name does famous grow As Marcus Tullius Cicero, And keeps true time with Sir A. Carew And Ashley.[14] As freely gave himself his hand, As once his voice to rule the Land By such as should not understand Too rashly. The Rout, that erst did roar so loud, A Mildmay and a Honeywood,[15] Are of their choice now grown so proud You’d wonder: And these State-Tinkers must be sent To stop the leaks of Government, Grown crazy now, and almost rent In sunder. His Honour first set all his hands, Each member next in order stands; The rabble, without ‘ifs and ands,’ Sub-scratch it. The Cause, not obsolete, though old, Like Insects lay in winter cold, And warm Petitions (they were told) Would hatch it. Corn bore a price in Cromwell’s days, Nor did we want a vent for bays; Nay, even calves were several ways Advanced. And then we fear’d not wicked plots,-- The Godly serv’d to cut our throats, Though agents for the Pope, as Oates And Prance[16] said. Those reasons did so much prevail, That they petition’d tooth and nail, To have the Sovereign strike sail, And stand by: While th’ Parliament had sate some years, To drive out Pope with Presbyteers, And try the Babylonish Peers And Danby.”[17]

The grievances of the petitioning constituencies are farcically rehearsed, the king is prayed that he will not “quite forget the Senate,” and the writer goes on to describe the signatories of this “Anti-Popish Bull.” When all hands had been set to the roll, it was found that--

“Several yards of fist, Were wanting to complete the list _Sans scruple_. Those scholars that could write, they bribe To prompt and proxy every side; And these did personally subscribe _Centuple_. But now the time draws on apace, And member itches for his place, The knights and gentlemen five brace Assemble; And brought the muster-roll to Court Tho’ Charles did hardly thank ’em for’t; But made ’em with a sharp retort To tremble. Now God preserve our King and Queen From Pyebald Coats and ribbons green, Let neither knave nor fool be seen About ’em. And those that will not say _Amen_, Let ’em petition once again, For every one, the Shire has ten To rout ’em.”

“Ribbons green,” were the badges of the Protestant Association, at the head of which was Shaftesbury, “the popular favourite,” or “Sejanus,” as his enemies designated him. _Vide_ “A Litany from Geneva:”--

“From Saucy Petitions that serve to inflame us, From all who for th’ Association are famous, From the _Devil_, the _Doctor_, and the d----d _Ignoramus_, _Libera nos Domine_.”

The obstinate and infatuated zealots, who would insist on keeping up the pretence that parliaments were essential to the constitutional government of the kingdom, were, with the suspected association, treated to all the witticisms Cavalier balladists could bring to bear against preposterous attempts to assail the royal prerogative, and enforce the just balance of the State:--

“’Tis to preserve his Majesty, That we against him rise, The righteous cause can never die That’s manag’d by the wise. Th’ _Association’s_ a just thing, And that does seem to say, Who fights for us, fights for the King, _The clean contrary way_.”

(“_A Hymn exalting the Mobile to Loyalty._”)

The members representing Buckingham town in the fourth parliament of Charles II., 1679, were Lord Latimer and Sir Richard Temple.

“Of thirteen men there were but six Who did not merit hemp well, The other seven play their tricks For Latimer and Temple.”

The Buckingham ballad, “The Sale of Esau’s Birthright,” which relates to these members, is interesting from an electioneering point, as proving bribery, and as showing there were only thirteen electors of this limited constituency concerned in this particular return. Six voted, according to a list at the end of the ballad, “for their king and country,” and seven for Lord Latimer and Sir _Timber_ Temple (the Earl of Danby, in another version), “for popery and their Town Hall” (“Sir R. T. his Timber, Chimney-money and Court,” according to another version). It seems certain that Sir Richard Temple had offered a present of timber for the Town Hall--in fact, some years later he is called “Timber Temple” (“State Poems”)--which was regarded as a bribe; it also appears that some delay had arisen in its payment.

“Our prating Knight doth owe his call To Timber, and his Lady; Though one goes longer with Town-Hall, Than t’other with her baby.

“The Bailiff[18] is so mad a spark (Though h’ lives by tanning leather), That for a load of Temple’s bark, He’d sacrifice his father.”

The other electors were a barber, two maltsters, a baker, and a farmer; the peppery ballad castigates the former, and concludes with a groan against the members returned:--

“Thus Buckingham hath led the way To popery and sorrow; Those seven Knaves who make us slaves, Would sell their God to-morrow.”[19]

“The Wiltshire[20] Ballad,” also belonging to this so-called “group of election ballads,” professes to be--

“A new Song, composed by an old Cavalier, Of wonders at Sarum by which doth appear, That th’ old Devil came again lately there, To raise a Rebellion By way of Petition.

“From Salisbury, that low Hous’d Town, Where steeple is of high renown, Of late was brought unto the Crown A Lesson: ’Twas drawn up by three worthy wights, Members they were, and two were Knights, Great trencher-men, but no one fights Mompesson.[21] Through discontent his Hand did set First to the scroll without regret, Then pilgrim-like travel’d to get Some others, From house to house, in Town and Close, Our zealous Preservator goes; Tells them of dangers and of Foes; But smothers The true intent of what they bring, Who beg’d the House may sit; a thing Which only can preserve the King, When nothing Destroys him more; for should he give Consent, he’d never that retrieve, But part with his Prerogative; A low thing Make himself by ’t, the rabble get Into his high Imperial seat They’d make him Gloriously Great! We trow it. They serv’d his Father so before, These Saints would still increase the store Of Royal Martyrs, Hum! no more, We know it. The herd of zealots long to see A monarch, but in effigie, A project which appears to be Most witty; And they at helm aspire to sit, There govern without fear or wit, King and un-king when they think fit; That’s pretty. To see (’twould make a Stoic smile) _Geneva Jack_[22] thus moil and toil To Lord it in our British Isle Again, Sir; And ‘Pulpit-Cuff’ us till we fight, Lose our Estates and lives outright; And when all’s done, he gets all by ’t, That’s plain, Sir. But this, I hope, nor make no mars _Charles_ knows what’s meant by all these jars, And these domestic paper-wars, Conceive it; _Tom_ of Ten Thousand,[23] is come in, Sure such a hero much will win, On skulls as thick, as his is _Thin_, Believe it The people would have power to call Parliaments, and dissolve them; all Regalias possess; what shall The Saint, Sir, Not have the power of Peace and War? Religion steer? Holy we are, And rich, the King shall we (be ’t far) Acquaint, Sir?”

The Court party lost no opportunity of abusing their opponents of the Constitutional and Protestant party; they not only did the Whigs the favour to hate them cordially, but, as their own satires abundantly demonstrate, they also dreaded and feared them not a little.

The more sober-sided attacks came from the opponents of overstrained prerogative and those who upheld the popular rights of representation against absolute monarchy; witness the following:--

“PLAIN DEALING,

_Or a Second Dialogue between Humphrey and Roger, as they were returning home from choosing Knights of the Shire to sit in Parliament_.

(PRINTED FOR T. B.)

_Roger._ Well overtook, neighbour. I see you are not a man of your word; did you not promise me, when we last met, that you would vote for our old members, that sat in the last Parliament, to be Knights of the Shire, to sit in the parliament at Oxford.

_Humphrey._ I thought to do so, but, by my brown cow, I have been over-persuaded to the contrary by my Landlord and his Chaplain, _Mr. Tantivie_, and a pestilent fine man, I think they said he was a courtier, that lay at my Landlord’s house; and what with arguments and wine, they drew aside my heart, and made me vote against my conscience.

_Roger._ ’Twas ill done, neighbour _Numps_, but all their artifices would not do, we have carried it by some hundreds for our old members, that stood so bravely for their country.

_Humphrey._ I am glad of it with all my heart, for, to tell you truly, tho’ my landlord had my voice, the old members had my heart, and I’ll never do so again.

_Roger._ I hear most of the Counties in England are of the same mind, and all the Burgess Towns, Cities, and Corporations; but what arguments could they use to alter thy mind?

_Humphrey._ First, I say, they made me continually drunk, and then my Landlord asked me so very civilly, and gave me so many good words, and fine promises what a kind Landlord he would be, that I forgot all your instructions; and methought he had invincible arguments to persuade me.

_Roger._ What were they?

_Humphrey._ Nay, I have forgot them; but I thought no Counsellor-at-Law, nor any Bishop, could have contradicted them: I now remember one argument that took with me; you know I was ever for the King, and he told me the King did not love the old Parliament-men, and therefore I should not vote for them; but I, being bold, asked him how he knew that.

_Roger._ What said he then?

_Humphrey._ Why he laid me as flat as a flounder, that is, he fully convinced me, for, said he, if the King had loved them he would not have dissolved them. I think that was demonstrable.

_Roger._ ’Tis no matter, tho’ the King did not love them, they lov’d you and your country, and you should so far have loved yourself, as not to have betrayed your own interest. What said the Courtier?

_Humphrey._ ‘Faith he said not much to me, but I suppose he had said enough to my Landlord.

_Roger._ And was this all your Landlord said to you? Had you nothing to say for yourself? You spoke rationally the last time we were together.

_Humphrey._ Nay, I was forward enough to speak I’ll assure you; and I told them I was sure our old members would be for the rooting up of Popery, and would stand stiffly against Arbitrary Government.

_Roger._ What said they then?

_Humphrey._ My Landlord laughed at me, and told me I had been among the _Presbyterian Whigs_, and bid me have a care of being cheated into Rebellion, by those two words _Popery_ and _Arbitrary Government_. Then he showed me a printed paper, I think he called it _The Mistress of Iniquity_, which showed as plain as the nose on my face, that in ’41 they did as we do now, and by that means they brought one King to the block, and so they would now do by our present Sovereign, God bless him.

_Roger._ Alas! alas! and that frighted you, did it?

_Humphrey._ Frighted me, ay marry did it, and I think ’twould affright any honest man; you know I was always a King’s man, and I would be taught to join with those, or give my Voice for such, who, under the notion of crying against Popery and Arbitrary Government, would pull down the King and the Bishops, and set up a Commonwealth again.

_Roger._ Well, _Numps_, I believe thee to be an honest man, and there be many in this land of thy condition, that are not of any great reach in policies and tricks of State Mountebanks, and so may be easily persuaded, upon false grounds, to betray your country, your liberties, your lives, and religion.

_Humphrey._ Nay, that was not all; he then read another printed paper, with a hard name, I think it was _Hercules Rideing_, or something of jest and earnest which I laughed heartily at, and methought there were some things called ‘_Querks_,’ which made a jingling and noise in my ears, that I thought there was some spell in it, for it seemed to join with _Mistress Iniquity_, to make all the Presbyterians traitors, and most of the people of England mad and factious.

_Roger._ There is as much heed to be given to these pamphlets as to the jingling of Morrice-bells. They are hired to set the people together by the ears, and are Papists in masquerade; things set up to affright the people out of their senses, with the buy leave of ’41; wise men see through them, honest men are not affrighted at them, and fools and knaves only are led aside by them.

_Humphrey._ But don’t we do now as formerly, before the late wars? don’t we run in just the same steps as they did, who caused all the late bloody doings, as those pamphlets would make us believe?

_Roger._ I cannot tell what they mean by roads and highways; pray Hodge, we are now riding in the High-road to the next market-town; before the last Assizes, in this very road three or four Highwaymen rode in it too, and robbed several persons, and committed many villainous murders, and were at last caught and hanged for it; now therefore, because we are riding in the same Highway, must we honest men be accounted thieves, robbers, and murderers, and all others who travel this road? that’s a hard case.

_Humphrey._ You say right, neighbour Hodge, tho’ the gallows stand in the highway, we need not run our Heads against it, nor do anything to deserve it.

_Roger._ Shall not the people who feel the burden and groan under the oppression, and, having no other way of redress but a parliament, desire and petition for one, and cry out against such illegal and unjust proceedings, but presently they must be termed by these fellows seditious, factious, and such as would dethrone the King, and pull down the Bishops? Then all men must hereafter be afraid to speak, to vote, or to petition against grievances, lest they should be termed rebels, villains, and traitors.

* * * * *

_Humphrey._ O neighbour, my heart trembles! what a rogue was I to vote at random, when our all lies at stake! I did not think we had put such a trust into the hands of our Parliament-men; I thought, alas, as many do, that we chose only for form-sake, and that they were only called to Parliament to give the King money, and to do what he would have them; and we have paid so many taxes already, and given so much money, that I wished in my heart there would be no more parliaments in my days.

_Roger._ You see you were mistaken; ’tis the greatest trust that can be put into the hands of men, when we send to the parliament our representatives, for we entrust them with our religion, lives, liberties, and property, all we have; for they may preserve them to us, give them from us, and therefore, neighbour, we ought to be careful in whom we put this great trust, and not be persuaded by our Landlord or any flattering Courtier, or ‘_horn-winding Tantivie_’ of them all, to choose those whom we know not, and are not well assured of, and that we dare not confide in.”

Equally sound in argument is the following:--

“A SPEECH WITHOUT DOORS MADE BY A PLEBEIAN TO HIS NOBLE FRIENDS.

(PRINTED FOR B. T. 1681.)

Parliaments have been wont to take up some space at the first Meetings to settle the House, and to determine of unlawful elections, and in this point they never had greater cause to be circumspect than at this time: For by an abuse lately crept in, there is introduced a custom, which, if it be not seen and prevented, will be a great derogation of the honour, and a weakening of the power of your House, where the law giveth a freedom to Corporations to elect Burgesses, and forbiddeth any indirect course to be taken in their Elections, many of the Corporations are so base-minded and timorous, that they will not hazard the indignation of a Lord Lieutenant’s letter, who, under-hand, sticks not to threaten them, if he hath not the Election of the Burgesses, and not they themselves.

And commonly those that the Lords recommend are such as desire it for protection, or are so ignorant of the place they serve for, as that there being occasion to speak of the Corporation for which they are chosen, they have asked their neighbours sitting by, whether it were a sea or a land town?

The next thing that is required is _Liberty of Speech_, without which Parliaments have little force or power; speech begets doubts, and resolves them; and doubts in speeches beget understanding; he that doubts much, asketh often, and learns much; and he that fears the worst, soonest prevents a mischief.

This privilege of speech is anciently granted by the testimony of Philip Cominus, a stranger,[24] who prefers our parliaments, and the freedom of the subject in them, above all other Assemblies; which Freedom, if it be broken or diminished, is negligently lost since the days of Cominus.

If Freedom of Speech should be prohibited, when men with modesty make repetition of the grievances and enormities of the kingdom; when men shall desire Reformation of the wrongs and injuries committed, and have no relation of evil thoughts to his Majesty, but with open heart and zeal, express their dutiful and reverent respect to him and his service; I say, if this kind of Liberty of Speech be not allowed in time of Parliaments, they will extend no farther than to Quarter-Sessions, and their Meetings and Assemblies will be unnecessary, for all means of disorder now crept in, and all remedies and redresses will be quite taken away.

As it is no manners to contest with the King in his Election of his Councillors and servants (for Kings obey no men, but their laws), so it were a great negligence, and part of Treason, for a subject not to be free in speech against the abuses, wrongs, and offences that may be occasioned by Persons in authority. What remedy can be expected from a prince to a subject, if the enormities of the kingdom be concealed from him? or what King so religious and just in his own nature, that may not hazard the loss of the hearts of his subjects, without this Liberty of Speech in Parliament? For such is the misfortune of most princes, and such is the happiness of subjects where Kings’ affections are settled, and their loves so far transported to promote servants, as they only trust and credit what they shall inform.

In this case, what subject dares complain? or what subject dares contradict the words or actions of such a servant, if it be not warranted by Freedom of a Parliament, they speaking with humility? for nothing obtaineth favour with a King, so much as diligent obedience.

The surest and safest way betwixt the King and his people, which hath the least scandal of partiality, is, with indifference, and integrity, and sincerity, to examine the grievances of the Kingdom, without touching the person of any man, further than the cause giveth the occasion: for otherwise, you shall contest with him that hath the prince’s ears open to hearken to his enchanting tongue, he informs secretly, when you shall not be admitted to excuses, he will cast your deserved malice against him, to your contempt against the King; and so will make the prince the shield of his revenge.

These are the sinister practices of such servants to deceive their Sovereigns; when our grievances shall be authentically proved, and made manifest to the world by your pains to examine and freedom to speak. No prince can be so affectionate to a servant, or such an enemy to himself, as not to admit of this indifferent proceeding: if his services be allowable and good, they will appear with glory; if bad, your labour shall deserve thanks both of Prince and country.

When justice shall thus shine, people will be animated to serve their King with integrity; for they are naturally inclined to imitate their princes in good or bad.

* * * * *

If any man shall pervert this good meaning and motion of yours, and inform his Majesty, _’Tis a Derogation from his Honour to yield to his subjects upon Conditions_, his Majesty shall have good cause to prove such men’s eyes malicious and unthankful, and thereby to disprove them in all their outer actions; for what can it lessen the reputation of a Prince whom the subject only and wholly obeyeth, that a _Parliament_ which his Majesty doth acknowledge to be his highest Council, should advise him, and he follow the advice of such a Council? What dishonour rather were it to be advised and ruled by one Councillor alone, against whom there is just one exception taken of the whole Commonwealth?

Marcus Portio saith, that that Commonwealth is everlasting, where the Prince seeks to get obedience and love, and the subjects to gain the affection of the Prince; and that Kingdom is unhappy where their Prince is served out of ends and hope of reward, and hath no other assurance of them but their service.”

The substitution of Oxford, “the hot-bed of Toryism,” for Westminster as the place of assembly for what proved Charles II.’s last parliament, was violently opposed by the members, who naturally resented this royal manœuvre of cutting off the representatives from the protection of the citizens. A petition remonstrating against the change was presented by Essex and sixteen other Peers; this darkly set forth dangers to the Crown, and reminded the king of the disasters which had always followed similar departures from the rule of London parliaments. Charles frowned, but took no heed. The parliament, forced into submission, attended at Oxford, Shaftesbury and other adherents taking with them a body-guard of armed retainers, citizens of London, wearing the Association green ribbons, with the legend, “No Popery: no Slavery!”

“Who was ’t gave out, that a thousand Watermen Had all conspir’d to Petition, when The parliament to Oxford were conven’d, That they might sit at Westminster for them; But ne’er were heard of more than Smith and Ben?[25] Who was ’t endeavour’d all that preparations To guard the City Members in their stations To Oxford; which look’d far more Arbitrary Than _Forty-One_, or absolute Old Harry.”

The doctors were dispossessed from their seats to make way for the legislators:--

“The safety of the King and ’s Royal Throne Depends on those five hundred Kings alone.”

Parliament met March 21, 1681. Of its short existence of eight days, three were consumed in formalities, the choice of a Speaker, and other preliminaries. The course of the action of the members was predetermined. They were to insist on the banishment and exclusion of the Duke of York from the succession. The impeachment was to be proceeded with of Fitz-Harris, who was imprisoned and awaiting trial, on an information of Everard, for being the author of a treasonable libel; it was understood, or at least expected, that the Duchess of Portsmouth and others of the Court would be implicated in his confession. The Lords voted that he should be proceeded against at Common Law, by which decision the Commons were craftily involved in a struggle for privilege and power with the Peers, who were also less impatient than themselves to carry the Exclusion Bill, the Lower House resolving that “it is the undoubted right of the Commons in parliament assembled to impeach before the Lords in parliament any Peer or Commoner for treason or any other crime or misdemeanour; and that the refusal of the Lords to proceed in parliament upon such impeachment is a denial of justice and a violation of the constitution.”[26]

This squabble between the two branches of the legislature exactly answered the king’s occasions; he made this a pretence for again dissolving the parliament, thus saving his brother and the Duchess of Portsmouth from the designs of the Commons. As it was, Charles coolly dismissed them as impracticable and useless, telling them, “he perceived there were great heats between the Lords and Commons, and their beginnings had been such as he could expect no good success of this parliament, and therefore thought fit to dissolve them.” This was on the 28th of March. On this point the Rev. J. W. Ebsworth, M.A., who has edited the “Bagford Ballads,” which illustrate the last years of the Stuarts, remarks--

“Had they been in London, there can be no doubt they would have resisted, calling the City to support them, and voted themselves permanent, to the defiance of the King and a commencement of civil war. He saw their plan, and conquered them.”

It was the lesson of “forty-one” to be taught again, as was prophetically hinted by “the ghost of the late Parliament to the New One to meet at Oxford.” In reference to the tyranny of the Commons, as opposed to the absolutism of the Crown, we find a _Loyal Poem_, entitled--

“THE PARLIAMENT DISSOLVED AT OXFORD.

MARCH 28, 1681.

“Under five hundred kings Three Kingdoms grone: Go, Finch,[27] Dissolve them, Charles is on the throne, And by the grace of God, will reign alone.

“The Presbyterians, sick of too much freedom, Are ripe for Bethle’m, it’s high time to bleed ’em, The Second Charles does neither fear nor need ’em.

“I’ll have the world know that I can dissipate Those _Impolitick Mushrooms of our State_, ’Tis easier to _dissolve_ than to _create_.

“They shan’t cramp Justice with their feigned flaws; For since I govern only by the Laws, (!) Why they should be exempt, I see no cause.”

The actual “Oxford Poem” in the Bagford Collection is addressed:--

“ON PARLIAMENT REMOVING FROM LONDON TO OXFORD.

“You London lads be merry, Your Parliament friends have gone That made us all so sorry And would not leave us alone.”

“THE WHIGS’ DOWNFALL.

“To perfect which, they made their choice Of parliaments of late, Of members that had nought but voice, And Megrims in their pate. _Wi Williams_ he the Speaker was, And is’t not wondrous strange; The reason’s plain, he told it was, Because they would not change; He told you truth, nor think it strange; He knew well their intent, They never meant themselves to change, But change the Government. For now cry they ‘The King’s so poor, He dares not with us part; And therefore we most loyally Will break his royal heart.’”

For a fine, ancient, divine-right-of-kings effusion commend us to the following full-flavoured High Tory manifesto:--

“TO MR. E. L. ON HIS MAJESTY’S DISSOLVING THE LATE PARLIAMENT AT OXFORD.

“An Atheist now must a Monster be, Of strange gigantic birth His omnipotence does let all men see, That our King’s a God on earth.

“_Fiat_, says he, by proclamation, And the parliament is created: He repents of his work, the Dissolution Makes all annihilated.

“We Scholars were expell’d awhile, To let the Senators in; But they behav’d themselves as vile, So we return again:

“And wonder to see our Geometry School All round about be-seated, Though there’s no need of an Euclid’s rule To demonstrate ’em all defeated.

“The Commons their Voting Problems would In Riddles so involve, That what the Peers scarce understood, The King was forc’d to solve.

“The Commons for a good omen chose An old consulting station: Being glad to dispossess their foes O th’ House of Convocation.

“So Statesmen like poor scholars be, For near the usual place They stood, we know, for a great Degree, But the King deny’d their Grace.

“Though sure he must his reason give, And charge them of some crime: Or else by course they’ll have reprieve For this is the _Third time_.

“It was because they did begin, With insolent behaviour: And who should expiate their sin The King himself’s no Saviour.

“Their faults grew to a bulk so high, As mercy did fore-stall: So Charter forfeited thereby, They must like Adam fall.

“It is resolv’d the Duke shall fail A Sceptre to inherit: Nor right nor desert shall prevail, ’Tis Popish to plead merit.

“Let the King respect the Duke his brother, And keep affection still, As duly to the Church his mother: In both they’ll cross his will.

“They would Dissenters harmless save, And penalties repeal; As if they’d humour thieves, who crave A liberty to steal.

“Thus he that does a pardon lack For Treason damn’d to dy. They’d tempt, poor man, to save his neck, By adding perjury.[28]

“The Nobles threw th’ Impeachment out[29] Because, no doubt, they saw ’Twas best to bring his cause about, But not to th’ _Commons Law_.

“But hence ’twas plaguily suspected, Nay, ’tis resolv’d by vote, That th’ Lords are popishly affected, And stiflers of the plot.

“The Commons’ courage can’t endure To be affronted thus: So, for the future to be sure, They’ll be the Upper House.

“But by such feverish malady, Their strength so soon was spent That punning wits no doubt will cry-- _Oh, Weeked Parliament_!”