History of the Early Part of the Reign of James the Second | Page 4

with most
profit who the most canvasses questions of this nature, especially if he
can divest his mind for the time of the recollection of the event as it in
fact succeeded.
The next period, as it is that which immediately precedes the
commencement of this history, requires a more detailed examination;
nor is there any more fertile of matter, whether for reflection or
speculation. Between the year 1640 and the death of Charles II. we
have the opportunity of contemplating the state in almost every variety
of circumstance. Religious dispute, political contest in all its forms and
degrees, from the honest exertions of party and the corrupt intrigues of
faction to violence and civil war; despotism, first, in the person of a
usurper, and afterwards in that of an hereditary king; the most
memorable and salutary improvements in the laws, the most abandoned
administration of them; in fine, whatever can happen to a nation,
whether of glorious of calamitous, makes a part of this astonishing and
instructive picture.
The commencement of this period is marked by exertions of the people,
through their representatives in the House of Commons, not only
justifiable in their principle, but directed to the properest objects, and in
a manner the most judicious. Many of their leaders were greatly versed
in ancient as well as modern learning, and were even enthusiastically
attached to the great names of antiquity; but they never conceived the
wild project of assimilating the government of England to that of
Athens, of Sparta, or of Rome. They were content with applying to the
English constitution, and to the English laws, the spirit of liberty which
had animated and rendered illustrious the ancient republics. Their first
object was to obtain redress of past grievances, with a proper regard to

the individuals who had suffered; the next, to prevent the recurrence of
such grievances by the abolition of tyrannical tribunals acting upon
arbitrary maxims in criminal proceedings, and most improperly
denominated courts of justice. They then proceeded to establish that
fundamental principle of all free government, the preserving of the
purse to the people and their representatives. And though there may be
more difference of opinion upon their proposed regulations in regard to
the militia, yet surely, when a contest was to be foreseen, they could
not, consistently with prudence, leave the power of the sword
altogether in the hands of an adverse party.
The prosecution of Lord Strafford, or rather, the manner in which it
was carried on, is less justifiable. He was, doubtless, a great delinquent,
and well deserved the severest punishment; but nothing short of a
clearly proved case of self-defence can justify, or even excuse, a
departure from the sacred rules of criminal justice. For it can rarely
indeed happen that the mischief to be apprehended from suffering any
criminal, however guilty, to escape, can be equal to that resulting from
the violation of those rules to which the innocent owe the security of all
that is dear to them. If such cases have existed they must have been in
instances where trial has been wholly out of the question, as in that of
Caesar and other tyrants; but when a man is once in a situation to be
tried, and his person in the power of his accusers and his judges, he can
no longer be formidable in that degree which alone can justify (if
anything can) the violation of the substantial rules of criminal
proceedings.
At the breaking out of the Civil War, so intemperately denominated a
rebellion by Lord Clarendon and other Tory writers, the material
question appears to me to be, whether or not sufficient attempts were
made by the Parliament and their leaders to avoid bringing affairs to
such a decision? That, according to the general principles of morality,
they had justice on their side cannot fairly be doubted; but did they
sufficiently attend to that great dictum of Tully in questions of civil
dissension, wherein he declares his preference of even an unfair peace
to the most just war? Did they sufficiently weigh the dangers that might
ensue even from victory; dangers, in such cases, little less formidable

to the cause of liberty than those which might follow a defeat? Did they
consider that it is not peculiar to the followers of Pompey, and the civil
wars of Rome, that the event to be looked for is, as the same Tully
describes it, in case of defeat--proscription; in that of victory--servitude?
Is the failure of the negotiation when the king was in the Isle of Wight
to be imputed to the suspicions justly entertained of his sincerity, or to
the ambition of the parliamentary leaders? If the insincerity of the king
was the real cause, ought not the mischief to be apprehended from his
insincerity