reasonable terms, had put the people of England to the necessity of securing themselves upon a legal bottom.

Upon Burnet's bold assertion that the presumptive proofs of imposture on the birth of the Prince of Wales. were more convincing than plain and downright evidence,' Swift remarks, well said, Bishop! Burnet's political character, indeed, is far from clear, and this is the worst part of it. He accepted the dirty office of gathering together these proofs, and making out a case in support of one of the most impudent falsehoods that was ever swallowed by gaping credulity. The fact is known by his own avowal of it; for upon further deliberation, the government wisely abstained from producing the case formally before the public. It is worthy of notice that there had been precisely a similar disposition in the case of Queen Mary to believe that a supposititious child would be produced. Probably at both periods it had been instilled into the people; and some colour on both occasions was given to the suspicion by the confident folly with which the Catholics proclaimed their expectation of a male heir. A most impudent and licentious example of this may be seen in the verses composed by an English Jesuit at Loretto; James's queen had offered to the idol of that celebrated shrine an angel of gold, holding a heart covered with diamonds; the priests there affirmed it appeared by sure calculation that she had conceived at the very moment when this offering entered the Santa Casa, and they produced a dialogue between the guardian angel of the queen and their Lady of Loretto, in which the angel requests that his client may have a son, and the Virgin assures him the request is granted at the moment it is made.

Swift's remarks, brief as they are, were in general well worthy of preservation; right or wrong, (for some of them are certainly to be regretted, and we are sorry to see them inserted here,) whatever comes from him bears the stamp of his original and strong character. Lord Dartmouth's notes are of a very different description; he from his own knowledge sometimes corrects the Bishop's statement, and sometimes adds to the information in the text. His opinion of Burnet, though he thought him a man of the most extensive knowledge he had ever met with, is on the whole little more favourable than Swift's, though somewhat less contemptuous. He had read and seen a great deal,' his lordship says, with a prodigious memory, and a very indifferent judgment; he was extremely partial, and readily took every thing for granted that he heard to the prejudice of those that he did not like, which made him pass for a man of less truth than he really was. I do not think he designedly published any thing he believed to be false.' Lord Dartmouth, on perusing the second portion of the work, (which was not published till

eleven years after the first,) thought he saw reason to alter this opinion; I wrote,' says he,' in the first volume of this book that I did not believe the Bishop designedly published any thing he believed to be false; therefore think myself obliged to write in this, that I am fully satisfied that he published many things that be knew to be so.' And, at the close of the work, where Burnet prays God that his history may be read with the same candour and sincerity with which he has written it, his commentator adds, thus piously ends the most partial, malicious heap of scandal and misrepresentation, that was ever collected for the laudable design of giving a false impression of persons and things to all future ages.'

Lord Dartmouth's censure is too severe; in politics he was uniformly opposed to the Bishop, and his remarks savour too often of the bitterness of personal dislike, a feeling which Burnet appears more than any man to have excited in his contemporaries. The Bishop was busier in state affairs and, less excusably, in political intrigues, than beseemed his station and profession. Among the Scotch he was unpopular because he sought and obtained preferment in an episcopal church; the members of that church regarded him with suspicion as a presbyterian at heart, because on all occasions he favoured the dissenters, and depreciated the esta→ blishment to which he belonged; and it was his singular ill fortune to be vilified and slandered by those even who agreed with him in their general views and took the same part in public life. Cunningham, who seldom displays the slightest malevolence or want of candour on any other subject, never mentions Burnet without reviling and calumniating him. The manner in which he treats him on one occasion is perfectly villainous. Being sent for,' he says, 'to John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, on his death bed, he published a book upon that subject, wherein he betrayed the secrets of -confession, to the great dishonour of God, by reason of the monstrous principles of Spinoza therein discovered.' The excellent little book which is thus malignantly censured need not now be defended against the slanderer; and the effrontery with which he accuses Burnet of betraying the secrets of confession, is exposed by the book itself, Burnet having been charged by Rochester' to publish any thing concerning him, that might be a mean to reclaim others. The dying penitent commanded his mother's chaplain to preach abroad and let all men know how severely God had disciplined him for his sins, by his afflicting hand, and that his suf, ferings were most just; and he prayed that as his life had done much hurt, so his death might do some good. How little has the falsehood of such an accusation injured him whom it was intended

to

to wound! but how deep and indelible a stain has it fixed upon the accuser!

Burnet's reputation has withstood the attacks of more formidable enemies: Arbuthnot, Swift and Pope directed their merciless satire against him; their satire is still read, but so is his history; and the history will continue to increase in estimation when the satire will be perused only by a few curious readers, and by them chiefly because it relates to so eminent a man. The personal faults and weaknesses of the historian were undisguised, he wore them on his sleeve, for daws to peck at; but they were proofs rather of simplicity of character than of worldliness, and both in his life and writings the good predominated greatly; his history is one which the present editor truly says will never lose its importance, but will continue to furnish materials for other historians, and to be read by those who wish to derive their knowledge of facts from the first sources of information. The accuracy of his narration has often been attacked with vehemence, and often, it must be confessed, with success, but not so often as to overthrow the general credit of his work. On the contrary, it has in many instances been satisfactorily defended, and time has already evinced the truth of certain records which rested on this single authority.' He who should take his opinion of those times from Burnet's work alone would form a partial and erroneous estimate of one of the most important ages in English history; but his knowledge of that age would be meagre indeed without it.

A more just and liberal view of the period which Burnet's history embraces cannot be presented than that with which the present editor (who is understood to be the highly respected president of Magdalen College) concludes his preface.

The great influence which personal character had formerly on events, together with other causes, occasions the reign of Charles the First, in which the contest for political power commenced, to form the most interesting period of English history, whether we are disposed to triumph with the conquering party, or to espouse and commiserate the cause of high honour and suffering loyalty. The frequent and remarkable changes of government during the Interregnum, as well as the singular and energetic character of the protector Cromwell, secure the attention of every reader. The disputes, which arose between an unprincipled, but good humoured monarch, regardless alike of his own honour and the national interest, and a restless, violent, and merciless faction, are subjects of deep concern, on account of their melancholy results. At the same time, the mind feels consolation in the virtues of Ormond, Clarendon, and Southampton. And, notwithstanding the enormities of courtiers and anti-courtiers, we reflect with pleasure on the freedom then first securely enjoyed, from every species of arbitrary taxation, and from extra-judicial imprisonment; on the provision

made

made for the meeting of parliament once in three years at the least; in a word, on the possession of a constitution, which King William admired so much, that he professed himself afraid to improve it. The gloom of the next reign, overcast and ruined as its prospects were by folly and oppression, and finally closed by means of intrigue, falsehood, and intimidation, is in part enlivened by a view of the courageous and disinterested conduct of Sancroft, Hough, Dundee, Craven, and a few others. Some of these persons, desirous of a parliamentary redress of grievances, thought that, instead of the force put upon the person of the king, an accommodation might and ought to have been effected with him; as he had a little before, when threatened. with the just and open hostility of his subjects for his perversion of the law, and maintenance of a standing army, made very important concessions. Yet it may reasonably be doubted, whether a composition with a prince of his disposition and feeble judgment, whatever good qualities he was otherwise possessed of, would eventually have been lasting, or even reducible to practice. The appeal made by him to his subjects immediately after his retreat to another country, was signed by a secretary of state employed contrary to law.

'Times had now passed, which were chequered with great virtues and vices but the reigns of William and Anne exhibit to the reader one uniform scene of venality and corruption; and the mind, instead of being interested, is disgusted with the contests of two parties for the government of the country, assuming, as it best suited their selfish purposes, each other's principles. The long contemplated change in the executive government was at length effected; its power being virtually transferred to combinations of persons possessed of great influence in parliamentary elections, and in parliament itself. Hence what has been called the practice of the constitution differed widely from its theory; and to this depression of the crown and of its direct power, occasioned by the seeming necessity for the almost constant sitting of parliament, were added maxims totally annihilating the will of the single person, and in conjunction with other causes, finally subversive of all dutiful and affectionate attachment to authority. These maxims, not recognized as constitutional by Clarendon, Hale or Locke, were advanced in order to colour and justify the alteration. A wider and more extensive field was now opened for the exertion of talents, serviceable indeed to the advancement of the individual, but as often pernicious as useful to the public. In these reigns also, contrary to every principle of justice, were laid the deep and broad foundations of a debt, which no other than the political system then adopted could have entailed on a nation. It ought still however to be remembered, that at, or soon after the revolution, a solemn recognition was made of the liberties of Englishmen ; the power of dispensing with the laws was abrogated in all cases; the judges were no longer dismissible at the sole pleasure of the crown; a provision was made against the long continuance of parliaments; freedom of religious worship was secured to the great body of Protestant dissenters; the important and necessary measure of a union with Scotland was effected; the liberty of the press established;

established; trials for treason better regulated; and a more exact and impartial administration of justice generally introduced in the kingdom. Which blessings, together with all other constitutional rights, may God's providence, and a virtuous and independent spirit, continue to us!' -Preface, p. xxix.

The first portion of Burnet's work is much the most important. England after the Revolution was deeply engaged in continental politics; the character of the age became military: his accounts of foreign and military transactions are neither comprehensive nor distinct; nor indeed was he so well informed concerning the secret springs of our domestic policy as in earlier life, when he had borne a more active part himself, and had been more trusted. The subject also itself is of a higher interest. The country underwent greater changes during the reign of Charles II. than in any preceding age; changes not produced by violence, but by the gradual and natural course of events, and thus permanently affecting the manners, the institutions, and the character of the nation.

No event had ever been so deeply and generally desired by the English people as the restoration of Charles II. They looked to it as the only means of their deliverance from an intolerable tyranny; as the only circumstance which could put an end to calamities of twenty years continuance. He had left the kingdom a proscribed and hunted fugitive, escaping almost by miracle; his return to it was brought about not by any effort on his own part or that of his friends, but by so general a concurrence in his favour of those who had been most instrumental in his father's overthrow, that both at home and abroad it was regarded as a manifest intervention of Providence. His journey from Dover to Canterbury was like a triumphant procession. In the towns through which he past, the streets were festooned with garlands, 'curiously made up with costly scarfs and ribbands, decorated with spoons and bodkins of silver, and small plate of several sorts, and some with gold chains, each striving to outdo others in all expression of joy.' From Rochester to Blackheath, Lord Clarendon describes the highways as being on both sides crowded with such a multitude of people, that it seemed one continued street, wonderfully inhabited.' On Blackheath, where the troops were drawn up to receive and escort him, he was welcomed by the country people with a morris dance; the old music of tabor and pipe was heard, and Maid Marian and the Hobby-horse, who were proscribed during the dismal Calvinistic tyranny, appeared once more in all their glory. A hundred young women, clad alike in white garments, with scarfs about them, were placed in Deptford to strew the way before him, as he rode, with flowers and fragrant herbs. His entrance into London was made with all the splendour of civic magnificence,