Answer to a Book, Part 6
VI. Upon his Retirement from Westminster.
THe Simily wher with he begins I was about to have found fault with, as in a garb somwhat more Poetical then for a Statist: but meeting with many straines of like dress in other of his Essaies, and hearing him reported a more diligent reader of Poets, then of Politicians, I begun to think that the whole Book might perhaps be intended a peece of Poetrie. The words are good, the fiction smooth and cleanly; there wanted onelyonly Rime, and that, they say, is bestow'd upon it lately. But to the Argument.
I stai'd at White Hall till I was driven away by shame more then feare. I retract not what I thought of the fiction, yet heer, I must confess, it lies too op'n. In his Messages, and Declarations, nay in the whole Chapter next but one before this, he affirmes that The danger, wherin his Wife, his Children, and his own Person were by those Tumults, was the maine cause that drove him from White Hall, and appeales to God as witness: he affirmes heer that it was shame more then feare. And Digby, who knew his mind as well as any, tells his new-listed Guard, That the principal cause of his Majesties going thence, was to save them from being trodd in the dirt. From whence we may discerne what false and frivolous excuses are avow'd sor truth, either in those Declarations, or in this Penitential Book. Our forefathers were of that courage and severity of zeale to Justice, and thir native Liberty, against the proud contempt and misrule of thir Kings, that when Richard the Second departed but from a Committie of Lords, who sat preparing matter for the Parlament not yet assembl'd, to the removal of his evil Counselors, they first vanquish'd and put to flight Robert de Vere his chief Favorite; and then comming up to London with a huge Army, requir'd the King then withdrawn for feare, but no furder off then the Tower, to come to Westminster. Which he refusing, they told him flatly, that unless he came, they would choose another. So high a crime it was accounted then, for Kings to absent themselves, not from a Parlament, which none ever durst, but from any meeting of his Peeres and Counselors, which did but tend towards a Parlament. Much less would they have suffer'd that a King, for such trivial and various pretences, one while for feare of tumults, another while for shame to see them, should leav his Regal Station, and the whole Kingdom bleeding to death of those wounds which his own unskilful and pervers Goverment had inflicted.
Shame then it was that drove him from the Parlament, but the shame of what? Was it the shame of his manifold errours and misdeeds, and to see how weakly he had plaid the King No; But to see the barbarous rudeness of those Tumults to demand any thing. We have started heer another, and, I beleeve, the truest cause of his deserting the Parlament. The worst and strangest of that Any thing which the people then demanded, was but the unlording of Bishops, and expelling them the House, and the reducing of Church Discipline to a conformity with other Protestant Churches: this was the Barbarism of those Tumults; and that he might avoid the granting of those honest and pious demands, as well demanded by the Parlament as the People, for this very cause, more then for feare, by his own confession heer, he left the City; and in a most tempestuous season forsook the Helme, and steerage of the Common-wealth. This was that terrible Any thing from which his Conscience and his Reason chose to run rather then not deny. To be importun'd the removing of evil Counselors, and other greevances in Church and State, was to him an intollerable oppression. If the peoples demanding were so burd'nsome to him, what was his denial and delay of Justice to them?
But as the demands of his people were to him a burd'n and oppression, so was the advice of his Parlament esteem'd a bondage; Whose agreeing Votes, as he affirmes, Were not by any Law or reason conclusive to his judgement. For the Law, it ordaines a Parlament to advise him in his great affaires; but if it ordaine also that the single judgement of a King shall outballance all the wisdom of his Parlament, it ordaines that which frustrats the end of its own ordaining. For where the Kings judgement may dissent, to the destruction, as it may happ'n, both of himself and the Kingdom, there advice, and no furder, is a most insufficient, and frustraneous meanes to be provided by Law, in case of so high concernment. And where the main & principal Law of common preservation against tyranny is left so fruitless and infirm, there it must needs follow that all lesser Laws are to thir severall ends and purposes much more weak, and uneffectual. For that Nation would deserv to be renownd and Chronicl'd for folly & stupidity, that should by Law provide force against privat and petty wrongs, advice only against tyranny and public ruin. It being therfore most unlike a Law, to ordain a remedy so slender and unlawlike, to be the utmost meanes of all our safety, or prevention, as advice is, which may at any time be rejected by the sole judgement of one man, the King, and so unlike the Law of England, which Lawyers say is the quintessence of reason and mature wisdom, wee may conclude that the Kings negative voice was never any Law, but an absurd and reasonless Custom, begott'n and grown up either from the flattery of basest times, or the usurpation of immoderat Princes. Thus much to the Law of it, by a better evidence then Rowles and Records, Reason.
But is it possible he should pretend also to reason, that the judgement of one man, not as a wise or good man, but as a King, and oft times a wilfull, proud, and wicked King, should outweigh the prudence, and all the vertue of an elected Parlament? What an abusive thing were it then to summon Parlaments, that by the Major part of voices greatest matters may be there debated and resolv'd, when as one single voice after that, shalldash all thir Resolutions?
He attempts to give a reason why it should, Because the whole Parlament represents not him in any kind. But mark how little he advances; for if the Parlament represent the whole Kingdom, as is sure anough they doe, then doth the King represent onelyonly himself; and if a King without his Kingdom be in a civil sense nothing, then without or against the Representative of his whole Kingdom he himself represents nothing, and by consequence his judgement and his negative is as good as nothing; and though we should allow him to be something, yet not equivalent, or comparable to the whole Kingdom, and so neither to them who represent it: much less that one syllable of his breath putt into the scales should be more ponderous then the joynt voice and efficacy of a whole Parlament, assembl'd by election, and indu'd with the plenipotence of a free Nation, to make Laws, not to be deny'd Laws, and with no more but No, a sleevless reason, in the most pressing times of danger and disturbance, to be sent home frustrat, and remediless.
Yet heer he maintains To be no furder bound to agree with the Votes of both Houses, then he sees them to agree with; the will of God, with his just Rights as a King, and the generall good of his People. As to the freedom of his agreeing or not agreeing, limited with due bounds, no man reprehends it; this is the Question heer, or the Miracle rather, why his onelyonly not agreeing should lay a negative barr and inhibition upon that which is agreed to by a whole Parlament, though never so conducing to the Public good or safety? To know the will of God better then his whole Kingdom, whence should he have it? Certainly Court-breeding and his perpetual conversation with Flatterers, was but a bad Schoole. To judge of his own Rights could not belong to him, who had no right by Law in any Court to judge of so much as Fellony or Treason, being held a party in both these Cases, much more in this; and his Rights however should give place to the general good, for which end all his Rights were giv'n him. Lastly to suppose a clearer insight and discerning of the general good, allotted to his own singular judgement, then to the Parlament and all the People, and from that self-opinion of discerning, to deny them that good which they being all Freemen seek earnestly, and call for, is an arrogance and iniquity beyond imagination rude and unreasonable: they undoubtedly having most autoritie to judge of the public good, who for that purpose are chos'n out, and sent by the People to advise him. And if it may be in him to see oft the major part of them not in the right, had it not bin more his modestie to have doubted their seeing him more oft'n in the wrong?
Hee passes to another reason of his denials, Because of some mens hydropic unsatiableness, and thirst of asking, the more they drank, whom no fountaine of regall bountie was able to overcome. A comparison more properly bestow'd on those that came to guzzle in his Wine-cellar, then on a freeborn People that came to claime in Parlament thir Rights and Liberties, which a King ought therfore to grant, because of right demanded; not to deny them for feare his bounty should be exhaust, which in these demands (to continue the same Metaphor) was not so much as Broach'd; it being his duty, not his bounty to grant these things. He who thus refuses to give us Law, in that refusal gives us another Law, which is his will, another name also, and another condition; of Freemen to become his vassals.
Putting off the Courtier he now puts on the Philosopher, and sententiously disputes to this effect, that reason ought to be vs'd to men, force and terror to Beasts; that he deserves to be a slave who captivates the rationall soverantie of his soule, and liberty of his will to compulsion; that he would not forfeit that freedome which cannot be deni'd him, as a King, because it belongs to him as a Man and a Christian, thoughto preserve his Kingdom, but rather dye injoying the Empire of his soule, then live in such a vassalage as not to use his reason and conscience to like or dislike as a King. Which words, of themselves, as farr as they are sense, good and Philosophical, yet in the mouth of him who to engross this common libertie to himself, would tred down all other men into the condition of Slaves and beasts, they quite loose thir commendation. He confesses a rational sovrantie of soule, and freedom of will in every man, and yet with an implicit repugnancy would have his reason the sovran ofthat sovranty, and would captivate and make useless that natural freedom of will in all other men but himself. But them that yeeld him this obedience he so well rewards, as to pronounce them worthy to be Slaves. They who have lost all to be his Subjects, may stoop and take up the reward. What that freedom is, which cannot be deni'd him as a King, because it belongs to him as a Man, and a Christian, I understand not. If it be his negative voice, it concludes all men who have not such a negative as his against a whole Parlament, to be neither Men, nor Christians: and what was he himself then, all this while that we deni'd it him as a King? Will hee say that hee enjoy'd within himself the less freedom for that? Might not he, both as a Man, and as a Christian have raignd within himself, in full sovranty of soule, no man repining, but that his outward and imperious will must invade the civil Liberties of a Nation? Did wee therfore not permit him to use his reason or his conscience, not permitting him to bereave us the use of ours? And might not he have enjoy'd both, as a King, governing us as Free men by what Laws we our selves would be govern'd? It was not the inward use of his reason and of his conscience that would content him, but to use them both as a Law over all his Subjects, in whatever he declar'd as a King to like or dislike. Which use of reason, most reasonless and unconseionable, is the utmost that any Tyrant ever pretended over his Vassals.
In all wise Nations the Legislative power, and the judicial execution of that power have bin most commonly distinct, and in several hands: but yet the former supreme, the other subordinat. If then the King be only set up to execute the Law, which is indeed the highest of his office: he ought no more to make or forbidd the making of any law agreed upon in Parlament, then other inferior Judges, who are his Deputies. Neither can he more reject a Law offerd him by the Commons, then he can new make a Law which they reject. And yet the more to credit and uphold his cause, he would seeme to have Philosophie on his side; straining her wise dictates to unphilosophical purposes. But when Kings come so low, as to fawn upon Philosophie, which before they neither valu'd nor understood, tis a signe that failes not, they are then put to thir last Trump. And Philosophie as well requites them, by not suffering her gold'n sayings either to become their lipps, or to be us'd as masks and colours of injurious and violent deeds. So that what they presume to borrow from her sage and vertuous rules, like the Riddle of Sphinx not understood, breaks the neck of thir own cause.
But now againe to Politics, He cannot think the Majestie of the Crowne of England to be bound by any Coronation Oath in a blind and brutish formalitie, to consent to whatever its Subjects in Parlament shall require. What Tyrant could presume to say more, when he meant to kick down all Law, Goverment, and bond of Oath? But why he so desires to absolve himself the Oath of his Coronation would be worth the knowing. It cannot but be yeelded, that the Oath which bindes him to performance of his trust, ought in reason to contain the summ of what his chief trust and Office is. But if it neither doe enjoyn, nor mention to him, as a part of his duty, the making or the marring of any Law or scrap of Law, but requires only his assent to to those Laws which the people have already chos'n, or shall choose (for so both the Latin of that Oath, and the old English, and all Reason admits, that the People should not lose under a new King what freedom they had before) then that negative voice so contended for, to deny the passing of any Law which the Commons choose, is both against the Oath of his Coronation, and his Kingly Office. And if the King may deny to pass what the Parlament hath chos'n to be a Law, then doth the King make himself Superiour to his whole Kingdom; which not onelyonly the general Maxims of Policy gainsay, but eev'n our own standing Laws, as hath bin cited to him in Remonstrances heertosore, that The King hath two Superiours, the Law and his Court of Parlament. But this he counts to be a blind and brutish formality, whether it be Law, or Oath, or his duty, and thinks to turn itoff with wholsom words and phrases, which he then first learnt of the honest People, when they were so oft'n compell'd to use them against those more truely blind and brutish formalities thrust upon us by his own command, not in civil matters onelyonly but in Spiritual. And if his Oath to perform what the People require, when they Crown him, be in his esteem a brutish formality, then doubtless those other Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy, tak'n absolute on our part, may most justly appear to us in all respects as brutish and as formal; and so by his own sentence no more binding to us then his Oath to him.
As for his instance in case He and the House of Peers attempted to enjoyne the House of Commons, it beares no equalitie; for hee and the Peers represent but themselves, the Commons are the whole Kingdom.
Thus he concludes his Oath to be fully discharg'd in Governing by Laws already made, as being not bound to pass any new, if his Reason bids him deny. And so may infinite mischeifs grow, and he with a pernicious negative may deny us all things good, or just, or safe, wherof our ancestors in times much differing from ours, had either no fore sight, or no occasion to foresee; while our general good and safety shall depend upo the privat and overweening Reason of one obstinat Man; who against all the Kingdom, if he list, will interpret both the Law and his Oath of Coronation by the tenor of his own will. Which he himself confesses to be an arbitrary power, yet doubts not in his Argument to imply, as if he thought it more fit the Parlament should be subject to his will, then he to their advice, a man neither by nature nor by nurture wise. How is it possible that he in whom such Principles as these were so deep rooted, could ever, though restor'd again, have raign'd otherwise then Tyrannically.
He objects That force was but a slavish method to dispell his error. But how oft'n shall it be answer'd him that no force was us'd to dispell the error out of his head, but to drive it from off our necks: for his error was imperious, and would command all other men to ronounce thir own reason and understanding, till they perish'd under the injunction of his all-ruling error.
He alleges the uprightness of his intentions to excuse his possible failings; a position fals both in Law and Divinity: Yea contrary to his own better principles, who affirmes in the twelfth Chapter, that The goodness of a mans intention, will not excuse the scandall, and contagion of his example. His not knowing, through the corruption of flattery and Court Principles, what he ought to have known, will not excuse his not doing what he ought to have don: no more then the small skill of him who undertakes to be a Pilot, will excuse him to be misledd by any wandring Starr mistak'n for the Pole. But let his intentions be never so upright, what is that to us? What answer for the reason and the National Rights which God hath giv'n us, if having Parlaments, and Laws and the power of making more to avoid mischeif, wee suffer one mans blind intentions to lead us all with our eyes op'n to manifest destruction.
And if Arguments prevaile not with such a one, force is well us'd; not to carry on the weakness of our Counsels, or to convince his error, as he surmises, but to acquitt and rescue our own reason, our own consciences from the force and prohibition laid by his usurping error upon our Liberties & understandings.
Never thing pleas'd him more then when his judgement concurr'd with theirs. That was to the applause of his own judgement, and would as well have pleas'd any selfconceited man.
Yea in many things he chose rather to deny himself then them. That is to say in trifles. For of his own Interests and Personal Rights he conceavs himself Maister. To part with, if he please, not to contest for, against the Kingdom which is greater then he, whose Rights are all subordinat to the Kingdoms good: And in what concernes truth, Justice, the right of Church or his Crown, no man shall gaine his consent against his mind. What can be left then for a Parlament, but to sit like Images, while he still thus either with incomparable arrogance assumes to himself the best abilitie of judging for other men what is Truth, Justice, Goodness, what his own, or the Churches Right, or with unsufferable Tyranny restraines all men from the enjoyment of any good, which his judgement, though erroneous, thinks not fit to grant them; notwithstanding that the Law and his Coronal Oath requires his undeniable assent to what Laws the Parlament agree upon.
He had rather wear a Crown of Thorns with our Saviour. Many would be all one with our Saviour, whom our Saviour will not know. They who govern ill those Kingdoms which they had a right to, have to our Saviours Crown of Thornes no right at all. Thornes they may find anow, of thir own gathering, and thir own twisting: for Thornes and Snares, saith Solomon, are in the way of the froward; but to weare them as our Saviour wore them is not giv'n to them that suffer by thir own demerits. Nor is a Crown of Gold his due who cannot first wear a Crown of Lead; not onelyonly for the weight of that great Office, but for the compliance which it ought to have with them who are to counsel him, which heer he termes in scorne An imbased flexibleness to the various and oft contrary dictates of any Factions. meaning his Parlament; for the question hath bin all this while between them two. And to his Parlament, though a numerous and chois Assembly of whom the Land thought wisest, he imputes rather then to himself, want of reason, neglect of the Public, interest of parties, and particularitie of private will and passion; but with what modesty or likelihood of truth it will be wearisom to repeat so oft'n.
He concludes with a sentence faire in seeming, but fallacious. For if the conscience be ill edifi'd, the resolution may more befitt a foolish then a Christian King, to preferr a self-will'd conscience before a Kingdoms good; especially in the deniall of that which Law and his Regal Office by Oath bids him grant to his Parlament, and whole Kingdom rightfully demanding. For we may observe him throughout the discours to assert his Negative power against the whole Kingdom; now under the specious Plea of his conscience and his reason, but heertofore in a lowder note, Without us, or against our consent, the Votes of either or of both Houses together, must not, cannot, shall not, Declar. May 4. 1642.
With these and the like deceavable Doctrines he levens also his Prayer.