III.
Never was a situation more clearly defined or more decisive than that of1660. Never had a course of conduct been more plainly indicated to awell-ordered mind. England was out of Cromwell's grasp. Under therepublic many irregularities had been committed. British preponderancehad been created. With the aid of the Thirty Years' War, Germany hadbeen overcome; with the aid of the Fronde, France had been humiliated;with the aid of the Duke of Braganza, the power of Spain had beenlessened. Cromwell had tamed Mazarin; in signing treaties the Protectorof England wrote his name above that of the King of France. The UnitedProvinces had been put under a fine of eight millions; Algiers and Tunishad been attacked; Jamaica conquered; Lisbon humbled; French rivalryencouraged in Barcelona, and Masaniello in Naples; Portugal had beenmade fast to England; the seas had been swept of Barbary pirates fromGibraltar to Crete; maritime domination had been founded under twoforms, Victory and Commerce. On the 10th of August, 1653, the man ofthirty-three victories, the old admiral who called himself the sailors'grandfather, Martin Happertz van Tromp, who had beaten the Spanish, hadbeen destroyed by the English fleet. The Atlantic had been cleared ofthe Spanish navy, the Pacific of the Dutch, the Mediterranean of theVenetian, and by the patent of navigation, England had taken possessionof the sea-coast of the world. By the ocean she commanded the world; atsea the Dutch flag humbly saluted the British flag. France, in theperson of the Ambassador Mancini, bent the knee to Oliver Cromwell; andCromwell played with Calais and Dunkirk as with two shuttlecocks on abattledore. The Continent had been taught to tremble, peace had beendictated, war declared, the British Ensign raised on every pinnacle. Byitself the Protector's regiment of Ironsides weighed in the fears ofEurope against an army. Cromwell used to say, "_I wish the Republic ofEngland to be respected, as was respected the Republic of Rome_." Nolonger were delusions held sacred; speech was free, the press was free.In the public street men said what they listed; they printed what theypleased without control or censorship. The equilibrium of thrones hadbeen destroyed. The whole order of European monarchy, in which theStuarts formed a link, had been overturned. But at last England hademerged from this odious order of things, and had won its pardon.
The indulgent Charles II. had granted the declaration of Breda. He hadconceded to England oblivion of the period in which the son of theHuntingdon brewer placed his foot on the neck of Louis XIV. England saidits mea culpa, and breathed again. The cup of joy was, as we have justsaid, full; gibbets for the regicides adding to the universal delight. Arestoration is a smile; but a few gibbets are not out of place, andsatisfaction is due to the conscience of the public. To be good subjectswas thenceforth the people's sole ambition. The spirit of lawlessnesshad been expelled. Royalty was reconstituted. Men had recovered from thefollies of politics. They mocked at revolution, they jeered at therepublic, and as to those times when such strange words as _Right,Liberty, Progress_, had been in the mouth--why, they laughed at suchbombast! Admirable was the return to common sense. England had been in adream. What joy to be quit of such errors! Was ever anything so mad?Where should we be if every one had his rights? Fancy every one'shaving a hand in the government? Can you imagine a city ruled by itscitizens? Why, the citizens are the team, and the team cannot be driver.To put to the vote is to throw to the winds. Would you have statesdriven like clouds? Disorder cannot build up order. With chaos for anarchitect, the edifice would be a Babel. And, besides, what tyranny isthis pretended liberty! As for me, I wish to enjoy myself; not togovern. It is a bore to have to vote; I want to dance. A prince is aprovidence, and takes care of us all. Truly the king is generous to takeso much trouble for our sakes. Besides, he is to the manner born. Heknows what it is. It's his business. Peace, War, Legislation,Finance--what have the people to do with such things? Of course thepeople have to pay; of course the people have to serve; but that shouldsuffice them. They have a place in policy; from them come two essentialthings, the army and the budget. To be liable to contribute, and to beliable to serve; is not that enough? What more should they want? Theyare the military and the financial arm. A magnificent _role_. The kingreigns for them, and they must reward him accordingly. Taxation and thecivil list are the salaries paid by the peoples and earned by theprince. The people give their blood and their money, in return for whichthey are led. To wish to lead themselves! what an absurd idea! Theyrequire a guide; being ignorant, they are blind. Has not the blind manhis dog? Only the people have a lion, the king, who consents to act thedog. How kind of him! But why are the people ignorant? because it isgood for them. Ignorance is the guardian of Virtue. Where there is noperspective there is no ambition. The ignorant man is in usefuldarkness, which, suppressing sight, suppresses covetousness: whenceinnocence. He who reads, thinks; who thinks, reasons. But not to reasonis duty; and happiness as well. These truths are incontestable; societyis based on them.
Thus had sound social doctrines been re-established in England; thus hadthe nation been reinstated. At the same time a correct taste inliterature was reviving. Shakespeare was despised, Dryden admired."_Dryden is the greatest poet of England, and of the century_," saidAtterbury, the translator of "Achitophel." It was about the time when M.Huet, Bishop of Avranches, wrote to Saumaise, who had done the authorof "Paradise Lost" the honour to refute and abuse him, "_How can youtrouble yourself about so mean a thing as that Milton?_" Everything wasfalling into its proper place: Dryden above, Shakespeare below; CharlesII. on the throne, Cromwell on the gibbet. England was raising herselfout of the shame and the excesses of the past. It is a great happinessfor nations to be led back by monarchy to good order in the state andgood taste in letters.
That such benefits should be misunderstood is difficult to believe. Toturn the cold shoulder to Charles II., to reward with ingratitude themagnanimity which he displayed in ascending the throne--was not suchconduct abominable? Lord Linnaeus Clancharlie had inflicted this vexationupon honest men. To sulk at his country's happiness, alack, whataberration!
We know that in 1650 Parliament had drawn up this form of declaration:"_I promise to remain faithful to the republic, without king, sovereign,or lord_." Under pretext of having taken this monstrous oath, LordClancharlie was living out of the kingdom, and, in the face of thegeneral joy, thought that he had the right to be sad. He had a moroseesteem for that which was no more, and was absurdly attached to thingswhich had been.
To excuse him was impossible. The kindest-hearted abandoned him; hisfriends had long done him the honour to believe that he had entered therepublican ranks only to observe the more closely the flaws in therepublican armour, and to smite it the more surely, when the day shouldcome, for the sacred cause of the king. These lurkings in ambush for theconvenient hour to strike the enemy a death-blow in the back areattributes to loyalty. Such a line of conduct had been expected of LordClancharlie, so strong was the wish to judge him favourably; but, in theface of his strange persistence in republicanism, people were obliged tolower their estimate. Evidently Lord Clancharlie was confirmed in hisconvictions--that is to say, an idiot!
The explanation given by the indulgent, wavered between puerilestubbornness and senile obstinacy.
The severe and the just went further; they blighted the name of therenegade. Folly has its rights, but it has also its limits. A man may bea brute, but he has no right to be a rebel. And, after all, what wasthis Lord Clancharlie? A deserter. He had fled his camp, thearistocracy, for that of the enemy, the people. This faithful man was atraitor. It is true that he was a traitor to the stronger, and faithfulto the weaker; it is true that the camp repudiated by him was theconquering camp, and the camp adopted by him, the conquered; it is truethat by his treason he lost everything--his political privileges and hisdomestic hearth, his title and his country. He gained nothing butridicule, he attained no benefit but exile. But what does all thisprove?--that he was a fool. Granted.
Plainly a dupe and traitor in one. Let a man be as great a fool as helikes, so that he does not set a bad example. Fools need only be civil,and in consideration th
ereof they may aim at being the basis ofmonarchies. The narrowness of Clancharlie's mind was incomprehensible.His eyes were still dazzled by the phantasmagoria of the revolution. Hehad allowed himself to be taken in by the republic--yes; and cast out.He was an affront to his country. The attitude he assumed was downrightfelony. Absence was an insult. He held aloof from the public joy as fromthe plague. In his voluntary banishment he found some indescribablerefuge from the national rejoicing. He treated loyalty as a contagion;over the widespread gladness at the revival of the monarchy, denouncedby him as a lazaretto, he was the black flag. What! could he look thusaskance at order reconstituted, a nation exalted, and a religionrestored? Over such serenity why cast his shadow? Take umbrage atEngland's contentment! Must he be the one blot in the clear blue sky! Beas a threat! Protest against a nation's will! refuse his Yes to theuniversal consent! It would be disgusting, if it were not the part of afool. Clancharlie could not have taken into account the fact that it didnot matter if one had taken the wrong turn with Cromwell, as long as onefound one's way back into the right path with Monk.
Take Monk's case. He commands the republican army. Charles II., havingbeen informed of his honesty, writes to him. Monk, who combines virtuewith tact, dissimulates at first, then suddenly at the head of histroops dissolves the rebel parliament, and re-establishes the king onthe throne. Monk is created Duke of Albemarle, has the honour of havingsaved society, becomes very rich, sheds a glory over his own time, iscreated Knight of the Garter, and has the prospect of being buried inWestminster Abbey. Such glory is the reward of British fidelity!
Lord Clancharlie could never rise to a sense of duty thus carried out.He had the infatuation and obstinacy of an exile. He contented himselfwith hollow phrases. He was tongue-tied by pride. The words conscienceand dignity are but words, after all. One must penetrate to the depths.These depths Lord Clancharlie had not reached. His "eye was single," andbefore committing an act he wished to observe it so closely as to beable to judge it by more senses than one. Hence arose absurd disgust tothe facts examined. No man can be a statesman who gives way to suchoverstrained delicacy. Excess of conscientiousness degenerates intoinfirmity. Scruple is one-handed when a sceptre is to be seized, and aeunuch when fortune is to be wedded. Distrust scruples; they drag youtoo far. Unreasonable fidelity is like a ladder leading into acavern--one step down, another, then another, and there you are in thedark. The clever reascend; fools remain in it. Conscience must not beallowed to practise such austerity. If it be, it will fall until, fromtransition to transition, it at length reaches the deep gloom ofpolitical prudery. Then one is lost. Thus it was with Lord Clancharlie.
Principles terminate in a precipice.
He was walking, his hands behind him, along the shores of the Lake ofGeneva. A fine way of getting on!
In London they sometimes spoke of the exile. He was accused before thetribunal of public opinion. They pleaded for and against him. The causehaving been heard, he was acquitted on the ground of stupidity.
Many zealous friends of the former republic had given their adherence tothe Stuarts. For this they deserve praise. They naturally calumniatedhim a little. The obstinate are repulsive to the compliant. Men ofsense, in favour and good places at Court, weary of his disagreeableattitude, took pleasure in saying, "_If he has not rallied to thethrone, it is because he has not been sufficiently paid_," _etc_. "_Hewanted the chancellorship which the king has given to Hyde_." One of hisold friends went so far as to whisper, "_He told me so himself_." Remoteas was the solitude of Linnaeus Clancharlie, something of this talkwould reach him through the outlaws he met, such as old regicides likeAndrew Broughton, who lived at Lausanne. Clancharlie confined himself toan imperceptible shrug of the shoulders, a sign of profounddeterioration. On one occasion he added to the shrug these few words,murmured in a low voice, "I pity those who believe such things."