Answer to a Book, Part 5
V. Upon the Bill for Trienniall Parlaments, And for setling this &c.
THe Bill for a Triennial Parlament was but the third part of one good step toward that which in times past was our annual right. The other Bill for setling this Parlament was new indeed, but at that time very necessary; and in the Kings own Words no more then what the World was fully confirm'd hee might in Justice, Reason, Honour, and Conscience grant them; for to that end he affirms to have don it.
But wheras he attributes the passing of them to his own act of grace and willingness, as his manner is to make vertues of his necessities, and giving to himself all the praise, heaps ingratitude upon the Parlament, a little memory will sett the cleane contrary before us; that for those Beneficial acts we ow what wee ow to the Parlament; but to his granting them neither praise nor thanks. The first Bill granted much less then two former Statutes yet in force by Edward the third; that a Parlament should be call'd every yeare, or ofter if need were; nay from a farr ancienter Law Book call'd the Mirror, it is affirm'd in a late Treatise call'd Rights of the Kingdom, that Parlaments by our old Laws ought twice a year to be at London. From twice in one year to once in three year, it may be soon cast up how great a loss we fell into of our ancient liberty by that act, which in the ignorant and Slavish mindes we then were, was thought a great purchase. Wisest men perhaps were contented, for the present at least by this act to have recoverd Parlaments, wch were then upon the brink of danger to be forever lost. And this is that which the King preaches heer for a special tok'n of his Princely favour, to have abridg'd & over reach'd the people five parts in six of what thir due was, both by ancient Statute, and originally. And thus the taking from us all but a Triennial remnant of that English Freedom which our Fathers left us double, in a fair annuity enrowl'd, is set out, and sould to us heer for the gracious, and over liberal giving of a new enfranchisment. How little, may we think, did he ever give us, who in the Bill of his pretended givings writes down Imprimis that benefit or privilege once in three year giv'n us, which by so giving, he more then twice every year illegally took from us. Such givers as give single to take away sixfold, be to our Enemies. For certainly this Common-wealth, if the Statutes of our Ancestors be worth ought, would have found it hard and hazardous to thrive under the dammage of such a guilefull liberatie. The other act was so necessary that, nothing in the power of Man, more seem'd to be the stay & support of all things from that steep ruin, to which he had nigh brought them, then that Act obtain'd. He had by his ill Stewardship, and, to say no worse, the needless raising of two Armies, intended for a civil War, begger'd both himself and the Public: and besides had left us upon the score of his needy Enemies, for what it cost them in thir own defence against him. To disingage him and the Kingdom, great sums were to be borrow'd, which would never have bin lent, nor could ever be repaid, had the King chanc'd to dissolve this Parlament as heertofore. The errors also of his Goverment had brought the Kingdom to such extremes, as were incapable of all recovery without the absolute continuance of a Parlament. It had bin els in vaine to goe about the setling of so great distempers, if hee who first caus'd the malady, might when he pleas'd reject the remedy. Notwithstanding all which, that he granted both these Acts unwillingly, and as a meer passive Instrument, was then visible eev'n to most of those Men who now will see nothing.
At passing of the former Act he himself conceal'd not his unwillingness; and testifying a general dislike of thir actions, which they then proceeded in with great approbation of the whole Kingdom, he told them with a maisterly Brow, that by this Act he had oblig'd them above what they had deserv'd, and gave a peece of Justice to the Common wealth six times short of his Predecessors, as if he had bin giving som boon or begg'd Office to a sort of his desertless Grooms.
That he pass'd the latter Act against his will, no man in reason can hold it questionable. For if the February before he made so dainty, and were so loath to bestow a Parlament once in three yeare upon the Nation, because this had so oppos'd his courses, was it likely that the May following he should bestow willingly on this Parlament an indissoluble sitting, when they had offended him much more, by cutting short and impeaching of high Treason his chief Favorites? It was his feare then, not his favor which drew from him that Act, lest the Parlament, incens'd by his Conspiracies against them about the same time discover'd, should with the people have resented too hainously those his doings, if to the suspicion of thir danger from him, he had also added the denyal of this onelyonly meanes to secure themselves.
From these Acts therfore in which he glories, and wherwith so oft he upbraids the Parlament, he cannot justly expect to reape aught but dishonour and dispraise; as being both unwillingly granted, and the one granting much less then was before allow'd by Statute, the other being a testimony of his violent and lawless Custom, not onelyonly to break Privileges, but whole Parlaments; from which enormity they were constrain'd to bind him first of all his Predecessors; never any before him having giv'n like causes of distrust and jealousie to his People. As for this Parlament, how farr he was from being advis'd by them, as he ought, let his own words express.
He taxes them with undoing what they found well done: and yet knows they undid nothing in the Church but Lord Bishops, Liturgies, Ceremonies, High Commission, judg'd worthy by all true Protestants to bee thrown out of the Church. They undid nothing in the State but irregular and grinding Courts, the maine grievances to be remov'd; & if these were the things which in his opinion they found well don, we may againe from hence be inform'd with what unwillingness he remou'd them; and that those gracious Acts wherof so frequently he makes mention, may be english'd more properly Acts of feare and dissimulation against his mind and conscience.
The bill preventing dissolution of this Parlament he calls An unparalell'd Act out of the extreme confidence that his Subjects would not make ill use of it. But was it not a greater confidence of the people to put into one mans hand so great a power, till he abus'd it, as to summon and dissolve Parlaments? Hee would be thankt for trusting them, and ought to thank them rather for trusting him: the trust issuing first from them, not from him.
And that it was a meer trust, and not his Prerogative, to call and dissolve Parlaments at his pleasure, And that Parlaments were not to be dissolv'd, till all Petitions were heard, all greevances redrest, is not onelyonly the assertion of this Parlament, but of our ancient Law Books, which averr it to be an unwritt'n Law of common Right, so ingrav'n in the hearts of our Ancestors, and by them so constantly enjoy'd and claim'd, as that it needed not enrouling. And if the Scots in thir Declaration could charge the King with breach of their Lawes, for breaking up that Parlament without their consent, while matters of greatest moment were depending, it were unreasonable to imagin that the wisdom of England should be so wanting to it self through all Ages, as not to provide by som known Law writt'n or unwritt'n, against the not calling, or the arbitrary dissolving of Parlaments; or that they who ordain'd thir summoning twice a yeare, or as oft as need requir'd, did not tacitly enact also, that as necessity of affaires call'd them, so the same necessity should keep them undissolv'd, till that were fully satisfi'd. Were it not for that, Parlaments, and all the fruit and benefit we receave by having them, would turne soon to meer abusion. It appeares then that if this Bill of not dissolving were an unparallel'd Act, it was a known and common Right which our Ancestors under other Kings enjoyd as firmly as if it had bin grav'n in Marble; and that the infringement of this King first brought it into a writt'n Act: Who now boasts that, as a great favour don us, which his own less fidelity then was in former Kings constrain'd us onelyonly of an old undoubted Right to make a new writt'n Act. But what needed writt'n Acts, when as anciently it was esteem'd part of his Crown Oath not to dissolve Parlaments, till all greevances were consider'd; wherupon, the old Modi of Parlament calls it flat perjury, if he dissolve them before; as I find cited in a Booke mention'd at the beginning of this Chapter, to which and other Law-tractats I referr the more Lawyerlie mooting of this point: which is neither my element, nor my proper work heer; since the Book which I have to Answer pretends reason, not Autoritys and quotations: and I hold reason to be the best Arbitrator, and the Law of Law it self.
Tis true that good Subjects think it not just that the Kings condition should be worse by bettering theirs. But then the King must not be at such a distance from the people, in judging what is better and what worse; which might have bin agreed, had he known (for his own words condemn him) as well with moderation to use, as with earnestness to desire his own advantages.
A continual Parlament he thought would keep the Common-wealth in tune. Judge Common wealth, what proofs he gave, that this boasted profession was ever in his thought.
Some, saith he, gave out that I repented me of that setling Act. His own actions gave it out beyond all supposition. For doubtless it repented him to have establish'd that by Law, which he went about so soon after to abrogat by the Sword.
He calls those Acts which he confesses, tended to thir good, not more Princely then friendly contributions. As if to doe his dutie were of curtesie, and the discharge of his trust a parcell of his liberality; so nigh lost in his esteem was the birthright of our Liberties, that to give them back againe upon demand stood at the mercy of his Contribution.
He doubts not but the affections of his People will compensate his sufferings for those acts of confidence. And imputes his sufferings to a contrary cause. Not his confidence, but his distrust was that which brought him to those sufferings, from the time that he forsook his Parlament; and trusted them ne're the sooner for what he tells of thir pietie and religious strictness, but rather hated them as Puritans, whom he always sought to extirpat.
He would have it beleev'd, that to bind his hands by these Acts argu'd a very short foresight of things, and extreme fatuity of mind in him, if he had meant a Warr. If we should conclude so, that were not the onelyonly Argument: Neither did it argue that he meant peace, knowing that what he granted for the present out of feare, he might as soon repeale by force, watching his time; and deprive them the fruit of those Acts, if his own designes, wherin he put his trust, took effect.
Yet he complaines, That the tumults threatn'd to abuse all acts of grace and turne them into wantonness. I would they had turn'd his wantonness into the grace of not abusing Scripture. Was this becomming such a Saint as they would make him, to adulterat those Sacred words from the grace of God to the acts of his own grace? Herod was eat'n up os Wormes for suffering others to compare his voice to the voice of God; but the Borrower of this phrase gives much more cause of jealousie that he lik'n'd his own acts of grace to the acts of Gods grace.
From profaneness he scars comes off with perfet sense, I was not then in a capacity to make Warr, therfore I intended not: I was not in a capacity, therfore I could not have giv'n my Enemies greater advantage then by so unprincely inconstancy to have scatter'd them by Armes, whom but lately I had settl'd by Parlament. What place could there be for his inconstancy in that thing wherto he was in no capacity? Otherwise his inconstancy was not so un wonted or so nice, but that it would have easily found pretences to scatter those in revenge, whom he settl'd in feare.
It had bin a course full of sin as well as of hazzard and dishonour. True, but if those considerations withheld him not from other actions of like nature, how can we beleeve they were of strength sufficient to withhold him from this? And that they withheld him not, the event soon taught us.
His letting some men goe up to the Pinnacle of the Temple was a temptation to them to cast him down headlong. In this Simily we have himself compar'd to Christ, the Parlament to the Devill, and his giving them that Act of settling, to his letting them goe up to the Pinnacle of the Temple. A tottring and giddy Act rather then a settling. This was goodly use made of Scripture in his Solitudes. But it was no Pinnacle of the Temple, it was a Pinnacle of Nebuchadnezzars Palace, from whence hee and Monarchy fell headlong together.
He would have others see that All the Kingdomes of the World are not worth gaining by the wayes of sin which hazzard the Soule; and hath himself left nothing unhazzarded to keep three. He concludes with sentences that rightly scannd make not so much for him as against him, and confesses that The Act of settling was no sin of his will, and wee easily beleeve him, for it hath bin clearly prov'd a sin of his unwillingness.
With his Orisons I meddle not, for he appeals to a high Audit. This yet may be noted, that at his Prayers he had before him the sad presage of his ill success, As of a dark and dangerous Storme which never admitted his returne to the Port from whence he set out. Yet his Prayer-Book no sooner shut, but other hopes flatter'd him; and thir flattering was his destruction.