Answer to a Book, Part 11
XI. Upon the Nineteen Propositions, &c.
OF the Nineteen Propositions he names none in particular, neither shall the Answer. But he insists upon the old Plea of his Conscience, honour, and Reason; using the plausibility of large and indefinite words, to defend himself at such a distance as may hinder the eye of common judgement from all distinct view & examination of his reasoning. He would buy the peace of his People at any rate, save onelyonly the parting with his Conscience and Honour. Yet shews not how it can happ'n that the peace of a People, if otherwise to be bought at any rate, should be inconsistent or at variance with the Conscience and Honour of a King. Till then, we may receave it for a better sentence, that nothing should be more agreeable to the Conscience and Honour of a King, then to preserve his Subjects in peace; especially from civil Warr.
And which of the Propositions were obtruded on him with the point of the Sword, till he first with the point of the Sword thrust from him both the Propositions and the Propounders? He never reck'ns those violent and merciless obtrusions which for almost twenty years he had bin forcing upon tender consciences by all sorts of Persecution; till through the multitude of them that were to suffer, it could no more be call'd a Persecution, but a plain VVarr. From which when first the Scots, then the English were constrain'd to defend themselves, this thir just defence is that which he cals heer, Thir making Warr upon his soul.
He grudges that So many things are requir'd of him, and nothing offerd him in requital of those favours which he had granted. What could satiate the desires of this man, who being king of England, and Maister of almost two millions yearly what by hook or crook, was still in want; and those acts of Justice which he was to doe in duty, counts don as favours; and such favors as were not don without the avaritious hope of other rewards besides supreme honour, and the constant Revennue of his place.
This honour, he saith, they did him to put him on the giving part. And spake truer then he intended, it beeing meerly for honours sake that they did so; not that it belong'd to him of right. For what can he give to a Parlament, who receaves all he hath from the People, and for the Peoples good. Yet now he brings his own conditional rights to contest and be preferr'd before the Peoples good; and yet unless it be in order to their good, he hath no rights at all; raigning by the Laws of the Land, not by his own; which Laws are in the hands of Parlament to change or abrogate, as they shall see best for the Common-wealth; eev'n to the taking away of King-ship it self, when it grows too Maisterfull and Burd'nsome. For every Common-wealth is in general defin'd, a societie sufficient of it self, in all things conducible to well being and commodious life. Any of which requisit things if it cannot have without the gift and favour of a single person, or without leave of his privat reason, or his conscience, it cannot be thought sufficient of it self, and by consequence no Common-wealth, nor free; but a multitude of Vassalls in the Possession and domaine of one absolute Lord; and wholly obnoxious to his will. If the King have power to give or deny any thing to his Parlament, he must doe it either as a Person several from them or as one greater; neither of which will be allow'd him; not to be consider'd severally from them, for as the King of England can doe no wrong, so neither can he doe right but in his Courts and by his Courts; and what is legally don in them, shall be deem'd the Kings assent, though he as a several Person shall judge or endeavour the contrary. So that indeed without his Courts or against them, he is no King. If therefore he obtrude upon us any public mischeif, or withhold from us any general good, which is wrong in the highest degree, he must doe it as a Tyrant, not as a King of England, by the known Maxims of our Law. Neither can he as one greater give aught to the Parlament which is not in thir own power, but he must be greater also then the Kingdom which they represent. So that to honour him with the giving part was a meer civility, and may be well term'd the courtesie of England, not the Kings due.
But the incommunicable Jewell of his conscience he will not give, but reserve to himself. It seemes that his conscience was none of the Crown Jewels; for those we know were, in Holland, not incommunicable to buy Armes against his Subjects. Being therfore but a privat Jewel, he could not have don a greater pleasure to the Kingdom then by reserving it to himself. But he, contrary to what is heer profess'd, would have his conscience not an incommunicable, but a universal conscience, the whole Kingdoms conscience. Thus what he seemes to feare least we should ravish from him, is our chief complaint that he obtruded upon us; we never forc'd him to part with his conscience, but it was he that would have forc'd us to part with ours.
Som things he taxes them to have offer'd him, which while he had the maistery of his Reason he would never consent to. Very likely; but had his reason maisterd him, as it ought, and not bin maisterd long agoe by his sense and humour (as the breeding of most Kings hath bin ever sensual and most humour'd) perhaps he would have made no difficulty. Mean while at what a fine pass is the Kingdom, that must depend in greatest exigencies vponupon the fantasie of a Kings reason, be he wise or foole, who arrogantly shall answer all the wisdom of the Land, that what they offer seemes to him unreasonable.
He preferrs his love of Truth before his love of the People. His love of Truth would have ledd him to the search of Truth, and have taught him not to lean so much upon his own understanding. He met at first with Doctrines of unaccountable Prerogative; in them he rested, because they pleas'd him; they therfore pleas'd him, because they gave him all; and this he calls his love of Truth, and preferrs it before the love of his peoples peace.
Som things they propos'd which would have wounded the inward peace of his conscience. The more our evil happ, that three Kingdoms should be thus pesterd with one Conscience; who chiefly scrupl'd to grant us that, which the parlament advis'd him to, as the chief meanes of our public welfare and Reformation. These scruples to many perhaps will seem pretended to others, upon as good grounds, may seem real, and that it was the just judgement of God, that he who was so cruel and so remorseless to other mens consciences, should have a conscience within him as cruel to himself; constraining him, as he constrain'd others, and insnaring him in such waies and counsels, as were certain to be his destruction.
Other things though he could approve, yet in honour and policy he thought fit to deny, lest he should seem to dare aeny nothing. By this meanes he will be sure, what with reason, conscience, honour, policy, or puntilios, to be found never unfurnisht of a denyal: Whether it were his envy, not to be over bounteous, or that the submissness of our asking stirr'd up in him a certain pleasure of denying. Good Princes have thought it thir chief happiness to be alwayes granting; if good things, for the things sake, if things indifferent, for the peoples sake: while this man sits calculating varietie of excuses how he may grant least; as if his whole strength and royaltie were plac'd in a meer negative.
Of one Proposition especially he laments him much, that they would bind him to a generall and implicit consent for what ever they desir'd. Which though I find not among the nineteene, yet undoubtedly the Oath of his coronation binds him to no less; neither is he at all by his Office to interpose against a Parlament in the making or not making of any Law; but to take that for just and good legally, which is there decreed, and to see it executed accordingly. Nor was he set over us to vie wisdom with his Parlament, but to be guided by them: any of whome possibly may as farr excell him in the gift of wisdom, as he them in place and dignitie. But much neerer is it to impossibilitie that any King alone should be wiser then all his councel; sure anough it was not he, though no King ever before him so much contended to have it thought so. And if the Parlament so thought not, but desir'd him to follow their advice and deliberation in things of public concernment, he accounts it the same proposition, as if Sampson had bin mov'd to the putting out his eyes, that the Philistims might abuse him. And thus out of an unwise, or pretended feare least others should make a scorn of him for yeilding to his Parlament, he regards not to give cause of worse suspicion, that he made a scorn of his regal Oath.
But to exclude him from all power of deniall seemes an arrogance; in the Parlament he means; what in him then to deny against the Parlament? None at all, by what he argues: For by Petitioning they confess thir inferioritie and that obliges them to rest, if not satisfi'd, yet quieted with such an Answer as the will and reason of their Superior thinks sit to give. First Petitioning, in better English, is no more then requesting or requiring, and men require not favours onelyonly, but thir due; and that not onelyonly from Superiors, but from Equals, and Inferiors also. The noblest Romans, when they stood for that which was a kind of Regal honour, the Consulship, were wont in a submissive manner to goe about and begg that highest Dignity of the meanest Plebeians, naming them man by man; which in their tongue was call'd Petitio consulatus. And the Parlament of England Petition'd the King, not because all of them were inferior to him, but because he was superior to any one of them, which they did of civil custom, and for fashions sake, more then of duty; for by plaine Law cited before, the Parlament is his Superiour.
But what law in any trial or dispute enjoynes a free man to rest quieted, though not satisfi'd, with the will and reason of his Superior? It were a mad law that would subject reason to superioritie of place. And if our highest consultations and purpos'd lawes must be terminated by the Kings will, then is the will of one man our Law, and no suttletie of dispute can redeem the Parlament, and Nation from being Slaves, neither can any Tyrant require more then that his will or reason, though not satisfying, should yet be rested in, and determin all things. We may conclude therfore that when the Parlament petition'd the King, it was but meerly forme, let it be as foolish and absurd as he pleases. It cannot certainly be so absurd as what he requires, that the Parlament should confine thir own and all the Kingdoms reason to the will of one man, because it was his hap to succeed his Father. For neither God nor the Lawes have subjected us to his will, nor sett his reason to be our sovran above Law (which must needs be, if he can strangle it in the birth) but sett his person over us in the sovran execution of such Laws as the Parlament establish. The Parlament therfore without any usurpation hath had it alwaies in thir power to limit and confine the exorbitancie of Kings, whether they call it thir will, thir reason, or thir conscience.
But this above all was never expected, nor is to be endur'd, that a King, who is bound by law and Oath to follow the advice of his Parlament, should be permitted to except against them as young Statesmen, and proudly to suspend his following thir advice, untill his seven yeares experience had shewn him how well they could govern themselves. Doubtless the Law never suppos'd so great an arrogance could be in one man; that he whose seventeen yeares unexperience had almost ruin'd all, should sit another seven yeares Schoolmaster, to tutor those who were sent by the whole Realme to be his Counselers and teachers. And with what modesty can he pretend to be a Statesman himself, who with his Fathers Kingcraft and his own, did never that of his own accord which was not directly opposit to his professed Interest both at home and abroad; discontenting and alienating his Subjects at home, weakning and deserting his Confederats abroad, and with them the Common cause of Religion. So that the whole course of his raign by an example of his own furnishing hath resembl'd Phaeton more then Phoebus; and forc'd the Parlament to drive like Jehu; which Omen tak'n from his own mouth, God hath not diverted.
And he on the other side might have rememberd that the Parlament sit in that body, not as his Subjects but as his Superiors, call'd, not by him but by the Law; not onelyonly twice every yeare, but as oft as great affaires require, to be his Counselers and Dictators though he stomac it, nor to be dissolv'd at his pleasure, but when all greevances be first remov'd, all Petitions heard, and answer'd. This is not onelyonly Reason, but the known Law of the Land.
When he heard that Propositions would be sent him, he satt conjecturing what they would propound; and because they propounded what he expected not, he takes that to be a warrant for his denying them. But what did he expect? he expected that the Parlament would reinforce some old Laws. But if those Laws were not a sufficient remedy to all greevances, nay were found to be greevances themselves, when did we loose that other part of our freedom to establish new? He thought some injuries done by himself and others to the Common wealth were to be repair'd. But how could that be, while he the chief offender took upon him to be sole Judge both of the injury and the reparation. He staid till the advantages of his Crown consider'd might induce him to condiscend to the Peoples good. Whenas the Crown it self with all those advantages were therfore giv'n him, that the peoples good should be first consider'd; not bargain'd for, and bought by inches with the bribe of more offertures and advantages to his Crown. He look'd for moderate desires of due Reformation; as if any such desires could be immoderate: He lookd for such a Reformation, both in Church and State as might preserve the roots of every greevance and abuse in both still growing (which he calls The foundation and essentials) and would have onelyonly the excrescencies of evil prun'd away for the present, as was plotted before, that they might grow fast anough between Triennial Parlaments, to hinder them by worke anough besides, from ever striking at the root. He alleges They should have had regard to the Laws in force, to the wisdom and pietie of former Parlaments to the ancient and universall practise of Christian Churches. As if they who come with full autority to redress public greevances, which ofttimes are Laws themselves, were to have thir hands bound by Laws in force, or the supposition of more pietie and wisdom in thir Ancestors, or the practise of Churches heertofore, whose Fathers, notwithstanding all these pretences, made as vast alterations to free themselves from ancient Popery. For all antiquity that adds or varies from the Scripture, is no more warranted to our safe imitation, then what was don the Age before at Trent. Nor was there need to have despair'd of what could be establish'd in lieu of what was to be annull'd, having before his eyes the Goverment of so many Churches beyond the Seas; whose pregnant and solid reasons wrought so with the Parlament, as to desire a uniformity rather with all other Protestants, then to be a scism divided from them under a conclave of thirty Bishops, and a crew of irreligious Priests, that gap'd for the same preferment.
And wheras he blames those propositions for not containing what they ought, what did they mention but to vindicate and restore the Rights of Parlament invaded by Cabin councels, the Courts of Justice obstructed, and the Government of Church innovated and corrupted? All these things he might easily have observ'd in them, which he affirmes he could not find: But found those demanding in Parlament who were look't upon before, as factious in the State, and scismaticall in the Church; and demanding not onelyonly Tolerations for themselves in thir vanity, noveltie and confusion, but also an extirpation of that Goverment whose Rights they had a mind to invade. Was this man ever likely to be advis'd, who with such a prejudice and disesteem sets himself against his chos'n and appointed Counselers; likely ever to admitt of Reformation, who censures all the Goverment of other Protestant Churches, as bad as any Papist could have censur'd them? And what King had ever his whole Kingdom in such contempt, so to wrong and dishonour the free elections of his people, as to judge them whom the Nation thought worthiest to sitt with him in Parlament, few els but such as were punishable by Lawes: yet knowing that time was, when to be a Protestant, to be a Christian was by Law as punishable as to be a Traitor, and that our Saviour himself comming to reform his Church, was accus'd of an intent to invade Caesars right, as good a right as the prelat Bishops ever had; the one being got by force, the other by spiritual usurpation: and both by force upheld.
He admires and falls into an extasie that the Parlament should send him such a horrid Proposition, as the removal of Episcopacy. But expect from him in an extasie no other reasons of his admiration then the dream and tautology of what he hath so oft repeated, Law, Antiquitie, Ancestors, prosperity and the like, which will be therfore not worth a second answer, but may pass with his own comparison Into the common sewer of other Popish arguments.
Had the two Houses su'd out thir Liverie from the wardship of Tumults, he could sooner have beleiv'd them. It concernd them first to sue out thir Livery from the unjust wardship of his encroaching Prerogative. And had he also redeem'd his overdated minority from a Pupillage under Bishops, he would much less have mistrusted his Parlament; and never would have set so base a Character upon them as to count them no better then the Vassals of certain nameless men whom he charges to be such as hunt after Faction with their Hounds the Tumults. And yet the Bishops could have told him, that Nimrod, the first that hunted after Faction is reputed, by ancient Tradition, the first that founded Monarchy; whence it appeares that to hunt after Faction is more properly the Kings Game; and those Hounds, which he calls the Vulgar, have bin oft'n hollow'd to from Court; of whom the mungrel sort have bin entic'd; the rest have not lost thir sent; but understood aright, that the Parlament had that part to act which he had fail'd in: that trust to discharge, which he had brok'n; that estate and honour to preserve, which was farr beyond his, the estate and honour of the Common-wealth, which he had imbezl'd.
Yet so farr doth self opinion or fals principles delude and transport him, as to think the concurrence of his reason to the Votes of Parlament, not onelyonly Political, but Natural, and as necessary to the begetting, or bringing forth of any one compleat act of public wisdom as the Suns influence is necessary to all natures productions. So that the Parlament, it seems, is but a Female, and without his procreative reason, the Laws which they can produce are but wind-eggs. Wisdom, it seems, to a King is natural, to a Parlament not natural, but by conjunction with the King: Yet he professes to hold his Kingly right by Law; and if no Law could be made but by the great Counsel of a Nation, which we now term a Parlament, then certainly it was a Parlament that first created Kings, and not onelyonly made Laws before a King was in being, but those Laws especially, wherby he holds his Crown. He ought then to have so thought of a Parlament, if he count it not Male, as of his Mother, which, to civil being, created both him, and the Royalty he wore. And if it hath bin anciently interpreted the presaging signe of a future Tyrant, but to dream of copulation with his Mother, what can it be less then actual Tyranny to affirme waking, that the Parlament, which is his Mother, can neither conceive or bring forth any autoritative Act without his Masculine coition: Nay that his reason is as Celestial and lifegiving to the Parlament, as the Suns influence is to the Earth: What other notions but these, or such like, could swell up to Caligula to think himself a God.
But to be ridd of these mortifying Propositions he leaves no Tyrannical evasion unassaid; first that they are not the joynt and free desires of both Houses or the major part; next, that the choise of many Members was carried on by Faction. The former of these is already discover'd to be an old device put first in practice by Charles the fifth since Reformation. Who when the Protestants of Germany for thir own defense join'd themselves in League, in his Declarations & Remonstrances laid the fault only upon some few (for it was dangerous to take notice of too many Enemies) and accus'd them that under colour of Religion they had a purpose to invade his and the Churches right: by which policy he deceav'd many of the German Cities, and kept them divided from that League, untill they saw themselves brought into a snare. That other cavil against the peoples chois puts us in mind rather what the Court was wont to doe, and how to tamper with Elections: neither was there at that time any Faction more potent, or more likely to doe such a business, then they themselves who complain most.
But he must chew such Morsels as Propositions ere he let them down. So let him; but if the Kingdom shall tast nothing but after his chewing, what does he make of the Kingdom, but a great baby. The streitness of his conscience will not give him leave to swallow down such Camels of sacrilege and injustice as others doe. This is the Pharisee up and down, I am not as other men are. But what Camels of Injustice he could devoure, all his three Realms were wittness, which was the cause that they almost perish'd for want of Parlaments. And he that will be unjust to man, will be sacrilegious to God; and to bereave a Christian conscience of libertie for no other reason then the narrowness of his own conscience, is the most unjust measure to man, and the worst sacrilege to God. That other, which he calls sacrilege, of taking from the Clergy that superfluous wealth, which antiquitie as old as Constantine, from the credit of a Divine vision, counted poyson in the Church, hath bin ever most oppos'd by men whose righteousness in other matters hath bin least observ'd. He concludes, as his manner is, with high commendation of his own unbiass'd rectitude and beleives nothing to be in them that dissent from him, but faction, innovation, and particular designes. Of these repetitions I find no end, no not in his prayer; which being founded upon deceitfull principl's and a fond hope that God will bless him in those his errors, which he calls honest, finds a fitt answer of S. James; Yee ask and receave not, because yee aske amiss. As for the truth and sinceritie which he praies may be alwaies found in those his Declarations to the people, the contrariety of his own actions will bear eternal witness how little carefull or sollicitous he was, what he promis'd, or what he utterd there.