Chapter 6 LAST YEARS IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS

Marvell's last ten years in the House of Commons were made miserable by the passionate conviction that there existed in high quarters of the State a deep, dangerous, and well-considered plot to subvert the Protestant faith and to destroy by armed force Parliamentary Government in England. Marvell was not the victim of a delusion. Such a plot, plan, or purpose undoubtedly existed, though, as it failed, it is now easy to consider the alarm it created to have been exaggerated.

Marvell was, of all public men then living, the one most deeply imbued with the spirit of our free constitution. Its checks and balances jumped with his humour. His nature was without any taint of fanaticism, nor was he anything of the doctrinaire. He was neither a Richard Baxter nor a John Locke. He had none of the pure Erastianism of Selden, who tells us in his inimitable, cold-blooded way that "a King is a King men have made for their own sakes, for quietness' sake." "Just as in a family one man is appointed to buy the meat," and that "there is no such thing as spiritual jurisdiction; all is civil, the Church's is the same with the Lord Mayor's. The Pope he challenges jurisdiction over all; the Bishops they pretend to it as well as he; the Presbyterians they would have it to themselves, but over whom is all this, the poor layman" (see Selden's Table Talk).

This may be excellent good sense but it does not represent Marvell's way of looking at things. He thought more nobly of both church and king.

In Marvell's last book, his famous pamphlet "An Account of the Growth of Popery and Arbitrary Government in England," printed at Amsterdam and recommended to the reading of all English Protestants, 1678, which made a prodigious stir and (it is sad to think) paved the way for the "Popish Plot," Marvell sets forth his view of our constitution in language as lofty as it is precise. I know no passage in any of our institutional writers of equal merit.

"For if first we consider the State, the kings of England rule not upon the same terms with those of our neighbour nations, who, having by force or by address usurped that due share which their people had in the government, are now for some ages in the possession of an arbitrary power (which yet no prescription can make legal) and exercise it over their persons and estates in a most tyrannical manner. But here the subjects retain their proportion in the Legislature; the very meanest commoner of England is represented in Parliament, and is a party to those laws by which the Prince is sworn to govern himself and his people. No money is to be levied but by the common consent. No man is for life, limb, goods, or liberty, at the Sovereign's discretion: but we have the same right (modestly understood) in our propriety that the prince hath in his regality: and in all cases where the King is concerned, we have our just remedy as against any private person of the neighbourhood, in the Courts of Westminster Hall or in the High Court of Parliament. His very Prerogative is no more than what the Law has determined. His Broad Seal, which is the legitimate stamp of his pleasure, yet is no longer currant, than upon the trial it is found to be legal. He cannot commit any person by his particular warrant. He cannot himself be witness in any cause: the balance of publick justice being so delicate, that not the hand only but even the breath of the Prince would turn the scale. Nothing is left to the King's will, but all is subjected to his authority: by which means it follows that he can do no wrong, nor can he receive wrong; and a King of England keeping to these measures, may without arrogance, be said to remain the onely intelligent Ruler over a rational People. In recompense therefore and acknowledgment of so good a Government under his influence, his person is most sacred and inviolable; and whatsoever excesses are committed against so high a trust, nothing of them is imputed to him, as being free from the necessity or temptation; but his ministers only are accountable for all, and must answer it at their perils. He hath a vast revenue constantly arising from the hearth of the Householder, the sweat of the Labourer, the rent of the Farmer, the industry of the Merchant, and consequently out of the estate of the Gentleman: a large competence to defray the ordinary expense of the Crown, and maintain its lustre. And if any extraordinary occasion happen, or be but with any probable decency pretended, the whole Land at whatsoever season of the year does yield him a plentiful harvest. So forward are his people's affections to give even to superfluity, that a forainer (or Englishman that hath been long abroad) would think they could neither will nor chuse, but that the asking of a supply were a meer formality, it is so readily granted. He is the fountain of all honours, and has moreover the distribution of so many profitable offices of the Household, of the Revenue, of State, of Law, of Religion, of the Navy and (since his present Majestie's time) of the Army, that it seems as if the Nation could scarce furnish honest men enow to supply all those imployments. So that the Kings of England are in nothing inferiour to other Princes, save in being more abridged from injuring their own subjects: but have as large a field as any of external felicity, wherein to exercise their own virtue, and so reward and incourage it in others. In short, there is nothing that comes nearer in Government to the Divine Perfection, than where the Monarch, as with us, injoys a capacity of doing all the good imaginable to mankind, under a disability to all that is evil."1

This was the constitution which Marvell, whose means of information were great and whose curiosity was insatiable, believed to be in danger. No wonder he was agitated.

The politics in which Marvell was immersed during his last years are difficult to unravel and still more difficult to illuminate, for they had their dim origin in the secret thoughts and wavering purposes of the king.

Charles the Second, like many another Englishman guiltless of Stuart blood in his veins, was mainly governed by his dislikes, his pleasures, and his financial necessities. To suppose, as some hasty moralisers have done, that Charles cared for nothing but his women is to misread his character. He had many qualifications to be the chief magistrate of a nation of shopkeepers. He was ever alive to the supreme importance of English trade upon the high seas. His thoughts were often turned in the direction of the Indies, east and west. He took a constant, though not always an honest, interest in the navy. He hated Holland for more reasons than one, but among these reasons was his hatred of England's most formidable and malicious trade competitor. He also disliked her arid and ugly Protestantism, and blood being thicker than water, he hated Holland for what he considered her shabby treatment of his youthful nephew, whose ultimate destiny was happily hidden from Whitehall. Among Charles's many dislikes must be included the Anglican bishops, who had prevented him from keeping his word, and foiled his purpose of a wide toleration. He envied his brother of France the wide culture, the literature and art of Catholicism. He regretted the Reformation, and would have been best pleased to see the English Church in communion with Rome and in possession of "Anglican liberties" akin to those enjoyed by the Gallican Church. Charles was also jealous of Louis the Fourteenth, and in many moods had no mind to play perpetually a second fiddle. He longed for a navy to sweep the seas, for an army strong enough to keep his Parliament in check, and for liberty for himself and for all those of his subjects who were so minded, to hear Mass on Sundays. Behind, and above, and always surrounding these desires and dislikes, was an ever-present, ever-pressing need for money. Like a royal Becky Sharp, Charles might have found it easy to be a patriotic king on five millions a year.

The king was his own Foreign Minister, and being what he was, and swayed by the considerations I have imperfectly described, his foreign policy was necessarily tortuous and perplexing. As Ranke says, "Charles was capable of proposing offensive alliances to the three neighbouring powers, to the Dutch against France, to the French against Spain and Holland, to the Spaniards against France to the detriment of Holland, but in these propositions two fundamental views always recur-demands for money, and assurance of world-wide commerce for England."1

Charles first allowed Sir William Temple, a cool, prudent man, to form, in a famous five days' negotiation, the defensive treaty with Holland, which, after Sweden had joined it, became known as the Triple Alliance (1668). This alliance had for its objects mutual promises between the contracting parties to come to each other's assistance by sea and land if attacked by any power (France being here intended), to force Spain to make peace with France on the terms already offered, and to compel France to keep those terms when agreed to by Spain.

The Triple Alliance was not only very popular in England, but was good diplomacy, for it was quite within the range of practical politics that France and Holland might have combined against England; nor could it easily be maintained that the alliance was hostile to France, as it provided that Spain should be forced to accept the terms France had already proposed.

What wrecked the Triple Alliance and prepared the way for the secret Treaty of Dover (1670), was the impossibility of settling those religious difficulties which, despite the Act of Uniformity, were more rampant than ever. The king wanted to patch up peace, and to secure some working plan of comprehension or composure, under cover of which the Catholic religion should be tolerated and Presbyterianism formally recognised. But, king though he was, he could not get his way. The Church and the House of Commons, full as the latter was of his pimps and pensioners, were as obstinate as mules in this matter of toleration. They would neither favour Papists nor Dissenters, protested against Indulgences as unconstitutional, and clamoured for a rigorous administration of that penal legislation against Nonconformists which they had purchased with so many and such lavish supplies. As a matter of fact, these penal laws were very fitfully enforced. In London they were often totally disregarded, and we read of congregations numbering two thousand openly attending Presbyterian services. The Lord Mayor for the time being took his orders direct from the king.

What was Charles to do? After the fall of Clarendon, the king's favourite privy councillors, called the "Cabal," because the initial letters of their names formed a word which for some time previously had been in common use, represent only too faithfully the confusion and corruption of the times. Clifford was a zealous Roman, Arlington a cautious one, Buckingham a free-thinker and mocker, friendly to France and on good terms with the more advanced English sectaries; Ashley made no pretence to be a Christian, but favoured philosophic toleration; whilst Lauderdale, one of the most learned ministers that ever sat in council (so Ranke says1), was, as a matter of profession, a Presbyterian, but in reality a man wholly and slavishly devoted to the king's interests, and prepared at any moment to pour into the kingdom soldiers from Scotland to purge or suppress all Free Institutions.

Irritated, disgusted, thwarted, and annoyed, the king, acting, it well may be, under the influence of his accomplished sister, the beautiful and ill-fated Duchess of Orleans, struck up, to use Marvell's own words, "an invisible league with France." The negotiations were either by word of mouth or by letters which have been burnt. Dr. Lingard in his history gives an interesting account of this mysterious transaction. Two things are apparent as the objects of the Treaty of Dover. The Dutch Republic is to be destroyed, and the cause of Catholicism in England is to be promoted and maintained. It was this latter object that seems most to have excited the hopes of the Duchess of Orleans. A woman's hand is traceable throughout. Charles promised to profess himself openly a Roman Catholic at the time that should appear to be most expedient, and subsequently to that profession he was to join with Louis in making war upon the Dutch Republic. At the date of this bewildering agreement, it was high treason by statute even to say that Charles was a Roman Catholic. In case the king's public conversion should lead to disturbances, Louis promised an "aid" of two millions of livres and an armed force of six thousand men. He also agreed to pay the whole cost of the Dutch War on land, and to contribute thirty men-of-war to the English fleet. Holland once crushed, England's share of the plunder was to be Walcheren, Sluys, and Cadsand. A remarkable conversion! It is difficult to suppose that either Charles or Louis were quite serious over this part of the business. Yet there it is. The Catholic provisions of the secret Treaty of Dover were only known to Clifford, whose soul was fired by them, and to Arlington, who did not share the confident hopes of his co-religionist. Clifford thought there were thousands of Englishmen "of light and leading" among the English Catholics who would be both willing and able to assume the burdens of the State and to rally round a Catholic king. Arlington thought otherwise.

The king's public conversion never took place. No hint was given of any such impending event. Parliament met on the 24th of October 1670, and after hearing a good deal about the Triple Alliance and voting large sums of money, was prorogued in April 1671, and did not meet again till February 1673.

To pick a quarrel with the Dutch was never difficult. Marvell tells us how it was done. "A sorry yacht, but bearing the English Jack, in August 1671 sails into the midst of the Dutch fleet, singles out the Admiral, shooting twice as they call it, sharp upon him. Which must sure have appeared as ridiculous and unnatural as for a lark to dare the hobby." The Dutch admiral asking "Why," was told "because he and his whole fleet had failed to strike sail to his small craft." The Dutch commander then "civilly excused it as a matter of the first instance, and in which he could have no instruction, therefore proper to be referred to their masters, and so they parted. The yacht having thus acquitted itself, returned fraught with the quarrel she was sent for."1 Surinam was a perpetual casus belli. Some offence against the law of nations was always happening there. A third matter, very full of gunpowder, was made great use of by the promoters of the war already agreed upon. A picture had been hung at Dort representing De Witt sailing up the Medway very much in the manner described in Marvell's poem. Medals also had been struck and distributed in commemoration of the same event. War was declared against Holland by England and France in March 1672. The Declaration of War was preceded by the Declaration of Indulgence, whereby, wrote Marvell, "all the penal laws against Papists for which former Parliaments had given so many supplies, and against Nonconformists for which this Parliament had paid more largely, were at one instant suspended in order to defraud the nation of all that religion which they had so dearly purchased, and for which they ought at least, the bargain being broke, to have been reimbursed."2

The unconstitutional suspension of bad laws put lovers of freedom in a predicament. Marvell was what he calls a "composure," that is a "comprehension," man. In the Growth of Popery he sorrowfully admits that it is the gravest reproach of human wisdom that no man seems able or willing to find out the due temper of Government in divine matters.

"Insomuch that it is no great adventure to say, that the world was better ordered under the ancient monarchies and commonwealths, that the number of virtuous men was then greater, and that the Christians found fairer quarter under those than among themselves, nor hath there any advantage accrued unto mankind from that most perfect and practical model of humane society, except the speculation of a better way to future happiness, concerning which the very guides disagree, and of those few that follow, it will suffer no man to pass without paying at their turnpikes." (Vol. iv. p. 280.)

The French Alliance made the war, though with Holland, unpopular. Writers had to be hired to defend it. France was supposed to look on with much composure as her two maritime competitors battered each other's fleets. At sea the honours were divided between the Dutch and the English. On land Louis had it all his own way. Besides, rumours got abroad of an uncomfortable plot to restore Popery. Jesuits seemed to abound. Roman Catholics asserted themselves, the laws being suspended. An army was collected at Blackheath. The Treasury was closed. Charles had been badly bled by the goldsmiths or bankers, who had charged him ￡12 per cent.; but in commercial centres Acts of Bankruptcy are seldom popular, and though the bankers were compelled to be content with ￡6 per cent., the closing of the Treasury brought ruin into many homes.

When Parliament met in February 1673, its temper was bad. It would have nothing to do with the Declaration of Indulgence, and though the king had told them, in the round set terms he could so well command, that he was resolved to stick to his declaration, he had to give way and to see the House busy itself with a Test Bill that drove all Roman Catholics, from the Duke of York (who had "gone over" in the spring of 1672) downwards, out of office. The only effect of Charles's policy was to mitigate the hostility of the House of Commons to Protestant Dissenters, and to drive it to concentrate its jealousy upon the Catholics. Any lurking idea of the king declaring himself a Romanist had to be abandoned. His hatred of Parliament increased. He lost all sense of shame, and frankly became a pensioner of France. In 1676 he concluded a second secret treaty, whereby both Louis and himself bound themselves to enter into no engagements with other powers without consent, and in case of rebellion within their realms to come to each other's assistance. Louis agreed to make Charles an annual allowance of a hundred thousand, afterwards increased to two hundred thousand livres. This money was largely spent in bribing the House of Commons. The French ambassador was allowed an extra grant of a thousand crowns a month to keep a table for hungry legislators.1 Did not Marvell do well to be angry?

Some of Marvell's letters belonging to this gloomy period are full of interest.

To William Ramsden, Esq.

"Nov. 28, 1670.

"Dear Will,-I need not tell you I am always thinking of you. All that has happened, which is remarkable, since I wrote, is as follows: The Lieutenancy of London, chiefly Sterlin the Mayor, and Sir J. Robinson, alarmed the King continually with the Conventicles there. So the King sent them strict and large powers. The Duke of York every Sunday would come over thence to look to the peace. To say truth, they met in numerous open assemblys, without any dread of government. But the train bands in the city, and soldiery in Southwark and suburbs, harassed and abused them continually; they wounded many, and killed some Quakers especially, while they took all patiently. Hence arose two things of great remark. The Lieutenancy, having got orders to their mind, pick out Hays and Jekill, the innocentist of the whole party, to show their power on. They offer them illegal bonds of five thousand pounds a man, which if they would not enter into, they must go to prison. So they were committed, and at last (but it is a very long story) got free. Some friends engaged for them. The other was the tryal of Pen and Mead, quakers, at the Old Baily. The jury not finding them guilty, as the Recorder and Mayor would have had them, they were kept without meat or drink some three days, till almost starved, but would not alter their verdict; so fined and imprisoned. There is a book out which relates all the passages, which were very pertinent, of the prisoners, but prodigiously barbarous by the Mayor and Recorder. The Recorder, among the rest, commended the Spanish Inquisition, saying it would never be well till we had something like it. The King had occasion for sixty thousand pounds. Sent to borrow it of the city. Sterlin, Robinson, and all the rest of that faction, were at it many a week, and could not get above ten thousand. The fanatics under persecution, served his Majesty. The other party, both in court and city, would have prevented it. But the King protested mony would be acceptable. So the King patched up, out of the Chamber, and other ways, twenty thousand pounds. The fanatics, of all sorts, forty thousand. The King, though against many of his council, would have the Parliament sit this twenty-fourth of October. He, and the Keeper spoke of nothing but to have mony. Some one million three hundred thousand pounds, to pay off the debts at interest; and eight hundred thousand for a brave navy next Spring. Both speeches forbid to be printed, for the King said very little, and the Keeper, it was thought, too much in his politic simple discourse of foreign affairs. The House was thin and obsequious. They voted at first they would supply him according to his occasions, Nemine, as it was remarked, contradicente; but few affirmatives, rather a silence as of men ashamed and unwilling. Sir R. Howard, Seymour, Temple, Car, and Hollis, openly took leave of their former party, and fell to head the King's busyness. There is like to be a terrible Act of Conventicles. The Prince of Orange here is much made of. The King owes him a great deal of mony. The Paper is full.-I am yours," etc.

The trial of William Penn and William Mead at the Old Bailey for a tumultuous assembly, written by themselves, may be read in the State Trials, vol. vi. The trial was the occasion of Penn's famous remark to the Recorder of London, who, driven wellnigh distracted by Penn's dialectics, exclaimed, "If I should suffer you to ask questions till to-morrow morning you would never be the wiser." "That," replied Penn, "would be according as the answers are."

To William Ramsden, Esq.

(Undated.)

"Dear Will,-The Parliament are still proceeding, but not much advanced on their eight hundred thousand pounds Bill on money at interest, offices, and lands; and the Excise Bills valued at four hundred thousand pounds a year. The first for the navy, which scarce will be set out. The last to be for paying one million three hundred thousand pounds, which the King owes at interest, and perhaps may be given for four, five, or six years, as the House chances to be in humour. But an accident happened which liked to have spoiled all: Sir John Coventry having moved for an imposition on the playhouses, Sir John Berkenhead, to excuse them, sayed they had been of great service to the King. Upon which Sir John Coventry desired that gentleman to explain whether he meant the men or the women players. Hereupon it is imagined, that, the House adjourning from Tuesday before till Thursday after Christmas-day, on the very Tuesday night of the adjournment, twenty-five of the Duke of Monmouth's troop, and some few foot, layed in wait from ten at night till two in the morning, by Suffolk-street, and as he returned from the Cock, where he supped, to his own house, they threw him down, and with a knife cut off almost the end of his nose; but company coming made them fearful to finish it, so they marched off. Sir Thomas Sands, lieutenant of the troop, commanded the party; and O'Brian, the Earl of Inchequin's son, was a principal actor. The Court hereupon sometimes thought to carry it with a high hand, and question Sir John for his words, and maintain the action. Sometimes they flagged in their counsels. However, the King commanded Sir Thomas Clarges, and Sir W. Pultney, to release Wroth and Lake, who were two of the actors, and taken. But the night before the House met they surrendered them again. The House being but sullen the next day, the Court did not oppose adjourning for some days longer till it was filled. Then the House went upon Coventry's busyness, and voted that they would go upon nothing else whatever till they had passed a Bill, as they did, for Sands, O'Brian, Parry, and Reeves, to come in by the sixteenth of February, or else be condemned, and never to be pardoned, but by an express Act of Parliament, and their names therein inserted, for fear of being pardoned in some general act of grace. Farther of all such actions, for the future on any man, felony, without clergy; and who shall otherwise strike or wound any parliament-man, during his attendance, or going or coming, imprisonment for a year, treble damages, and incapacity. This Bill having in some few days been dispatched to the Lords, the House has since gone on in grand Committee upon the first eight hundred thousand pounds Bill, but are not yet half way. But now the Lords, instead of the sixteenth of February, put twenty-five days after the King's royal assent, and that registered in their journal; they disagree in several other things, but adhere in that first, which is most material. Adhere, in this place, signifies not to be retracted, and excludes a free conference. So that this week the Houses will be in danger of splitting, without much wisdom or force. For considering that Sir Thomas Sands was the very person sent to Clarges and Pultney, that O'Brian was concealed in the Duke of Monmouth's lodgings, that Wroth and Lake were bayled at the sessions by order from Mr. Attorney, and that all persons and things are perfectly discovered, that act will not be passed without great consequence. George's father obliges you much in Tangier. Prince Edgar is dying. The Court is at the highest pitch of want and luxury, and the people full of discontent, Remember me to yourselves."

To William Ramsden, Esq.

(Undated.)

"Dear Will,-I think I have not told you that, on our Bill of Subsidy, the Lord Lucas made a fervent bold speech against our prodigality in giving, and the weak looseness of the government, the King being present; and the Lord Clare another to persuade the King that he ought not to be present. But all this had little encouragement, not being seconded. Copys going about everywhere, one of them was brought into the Lords' House, and Lord Lucas was asked whether it was his. He sayd part was, and part was not. Thereupon they took advantage, and sayed it was a libel even against Lucas himself. On this they voted it a libel, and to be burned by the hangman. Which was done; but the sport was, the hangman burned the Lords' order with it. I take the last quarrel betwixt us and the Lords to be as the ashes of that speech. Doubtless you have heard, before this time, how Monmouth, Albemarle, Dunbane, and seven or eight gentlemen, fought with the watch, and killed a poor bedle. They have all got their pardons, for Monmouth's sake; but it is an act of great scandal. The King of France is at Dunkirke. We have no fleet out, though we gave the Subsidy Bill, valued at eight hundred thousand pounds, for that purpose. I believe, indeed, he will attempt nothing on us, but leave us to dy a natural death. For indeed never had poor nation so many complicated, mortal, incurable, diseases. You know the Dutchess of York is dead. All gave her for a Papist. I think it will be my lot to go on an honest fair employment into Ireland. Some have smelt the court of Rome at that distance. There I hope I shall be out of the smell of our.... -Yours," etc.

To a Friend in Persia.

"August 9, 1671.

"Dear Sir,-I have yours of the 12th of October 1670, which was in all respects most welcome to me, except when I considered that to write it you endured some pain, for you say your hand is not yet recovered. If I could say any thing to you towards the advancement of your affairs, I could, with a better conscience, admit you should spend so much of your precious time, as you do, upon me. But you know how far those things are out of my road, tho', otherwise, most desirous in all things to be serviceable to you. God's good providence, which hath through so dangerous a disease and so many difficultys preserved and restored you, will, I doubt not, conduct you to a prosperous issue, and the perfection of your so laudable undertakings. And, under that, your own good genius, in conjunction with your brother here, will, I hope, though at the distance of England and Persia, in good time operate extraordinary effects; for the magnetism of two souls, rightly touched, works beyond all natural limits, and it would be indeed too unequal, if good nature should not have at least as large a sphere of activity, as malice, envy, and detraction, which are, it seems, part of the returns from Gombroon and Surat. All I can say to you in that matter is, that you must, seeing it will not be better, stand upon your guard; for in this world a good cause signifys little, unless it be as well defended. A man may starve at the feast of good conscience. My fencing master in Spain, after he had instructed me all he could, told me, I remember, there was yet one secret, against which there was no defence, and that was, to give the first blow. I know your maxim, Qui festinat ditescere, non erit innocens. Indeed while you preserve that mind, you will have the blessing both of God and man. In general I perceive, and am very glad of it, that by your good management, your friends here get ground, and the flint in your adversarys' hearts begins to be mollifyed. Now after my usual method, leaving to others what relates to busyness, I address myself, which is all I am good for, to be your gazettier. I am sorry to perceive that mine by the Armenian miscarryed. Tho' there was nothing material in it, the thoughts of friends are too valuable to fall into the hands of a stranger. I wrote the last February at large, and wish it a better passage. In this perhaps I may interfere something with that, chusing rather to repeat than omit. The King having, upon pretence of the great preparations of his neighbours, demanded three hundred thousand pounds for his navy (though in conclusion he hath not set out any) and that the Parliament should pay his debts, which the ministers would never particularize to the House of Commons, our House gave several bills. You see how far things were stretched, though beyond reason, there being no satisfaction how those debts were contracted, and all men foreseeing that what was given would not be applyed to discharge the debts, which I hear are at this day risen to four millions, but diverted as formerly. Nevertheless such was the number of the constant courtiers increased by the apostate patriots, who were bought off, for that turn, some at six, others ten, one at fifteen thousand pounds in money, besides what offices, lands, and reversions, to others, that it is a mercy they gave not away the whole land, and liberty, of England. The Earl of Clare made a very bold and rational harangue, the King being present, against the King's sitting among the Lords, contrary to former precedents, during their debates; but he was not seconded. The King had this April prorogued, upon the Houses cavilling, and their harsh conferences concerning some bills, the Parliament from this April till the 16th of April 1672. Sir John Coventry's Bill against Cutting Noses passed, and O'Brian and Sir Thomas Sands, not appearing at the Old Baily by the time limited, stand attainted and outlawed, without possibility of pardon. The Duke of Buckingham is again one hundred and forty thousand pounds in debt, and, by this prorogation, his creditors have time to tear all his lands in pieces. The House of Commons has run almost to the end of their line, and are grown extreme chargeable to the King, and odious to the people. Lord St. John, Marquess of Westminster's son, one of the House of Commons, Sir Robert Howard, Sir John Benet, Lord Arlington's brother, Sir William Bucknoll, the brewer, all of the House, in fellowship with some others of the city, have farmed the old customs, with the new act of Imposition upon Wines, and the Wine Licenses, at six hundred thousand pounds a year, to begin this Michaelmas. You may be sure they have covenants not to be losers. They have signed and sealed ten thousand pounds a year more to the Duchess of Cleveland, who has likewise near ten thousand pounds a year out of the new farm of the country excise of Beer and Ale, five thousand pounds a year out of the Post Office, and, they say, the reversion of all the King's leases, the reversion of places all in the Custom House, the green wax, and indeed, what not? All promotions, spiritual and temporal, pass under her cognizance. Buckingham runs out of all with the Lady Shrewsbury, by whom he believes he had a son, to whom the King stood godfather; it dyed, young Earl of Coventry, and was buryed in the sepulchre of his fathers. The King of France made a warlike progresse this summer through his conquests of Flanders, but kept the peace there, and detains still the Dutchy of Lorain, and has stired up the German Princes against the free towns. The Duke of Brunswick has taken the town of Brunswick; and now the Bishop of Cullen is attacking the city of Colen. We truckle to France in all things, to the prejudice of our honour. Barclay is still Lieutenant of Ireland; but he was forced to come over to pay ten thousand pounds rent to his Landlady Cleveland. My Lord Angier, who bought of Sir George Carteret for eleven thousand pounds, the Vice-treasurership of Ireland, worth five thousand pounds a year, is, betwixt knavery and foolery, turned out. Dutchess of York and Prince Edgar, dead. None left but daughters. One Blud, outlawed for a plot to take Dublin Castle, and who seized on the Duke of Ormond here last year, and might have killed him, a most bold, and yet sober fellow, some months ago seized the crown and sceptre in the Tower, took them away, and if he had killed the keeper, might have carried them clear off. He, being taken, astonished the King and Court, with the generosity, and wisdom, of his answers. He, and all his accomplices, for his sake, are discharged by the King, to the wonder of all.-Yours," etc.

To William Ramsden, Esq.

"June 1672.

"Dear Will,-Affairs begin to alter, and men talk of a peace with Holland, and taking them into our protection; and it is my opinion it will be before Michaelmas, for some reasons, not fit to write. We cannot have a peace with France and Holland both. The Dutch are now brought very low; but Amsterdam, and some other provinces, are resolved to stand out till the last. De-wit is stabbed, and dead of his wounds. It was at twelve a clock at night, the 11th of this month, as he came from the council at the Hague. Four men wounded him with their swords. But his own letter next morning to the States says nothing appeared mortal. The whole Province of Utrecht is yielding up. No man can conceive the condition of the State of Holland, in this juncture, unless he can at the same time conceive an earthquake, an hurricane, and the deluge. France is potent and subtle. Here have been several fires of late. One at St. Catherine's, which burned about six score or two hundred houses, and some seven or eight ships. Another in Bishopsgate-street. Another in Crichet Fryars. Another in Southwark; and some elsewhere. You may be sure all the old talk is hereupon revived. There was the other day, though not on this occasion, a severe proclamation issued out against all who shall vent false news, or discourse ill concerning affairs of state. So that in writing to you I run the risque of making a breech in the commandment.-Yours," etc.

The following letter deals with another matter of human concern than politics, for it seeks to condole with a father who has lost an only son.

To Sir John Trott

(Undated.)

"Honoured Sir,-I have not that vanity to believe, if you weigh your late loss by the common ballance, that any thing I can write to you should lighten your resentments: nor if you measure things by the rules of christianity, do I think it needful to comfort you in your duty and your son's happyness. Only having a great esteem and affection for you, and the grateful memory of him that is departed being still green and fresh upon my spirit, I cannot forbear to inquire, how you have stood the second shock at your sad meeting of friends in the country. I know that the very sight of those who have been witnesses of our better fortune, doth but serve to reinforce a calamity. I know the contagion of grief and infection of tears, and especially when it runs in a blood. And I myself could sooner imitate than blame those innocent relentings of nature, so that they spring from tenderness only and humanity, not from an implacable sorrow. The tears of a family may flow together like those little drops that compact the rainbow, and if they be placed with the same advantage towards Heaven as those are to the sun, they too have their splendour; and like that bow, while they unbend into seasonable showers, yet they promise, that there shall not be a second flood. But the dissoluteness of grief, the prodigality of sorrow, is neither to be indulged in a man's self, nor complyed with in others. If that were allowable in these cases, Eli's was the readyest way and highest compliment of mourning, who fell back from his seat and broke his neck. But neither does that precedent hold. For though he had been Chancellor, and in effect King of Israel, for so many years (and such men value, as themselves, their losses at an higher rate than others), yet, when he heard that Israel was overcome, that his two sons Hophni and Phineas were slain in one day, and saw himself so without hope of issue, and which imbittered it farther, without succession to the government, yet he fell not till the news that the ark of God was taken. I pray God that we may never have the same parallel perfected in our publick concernments. Then we shall need all the strength of grace and nature to support us. But on a private loss, and sweetened with so many circumstances as yours, to be impatient, to be uncomfortable would be to dispute with God. Though an only son be inestimable, yet it is like Jonah's sin, to be angry at God for the withering of his shadow. Zipporah, though the delay had almost cost her husband his life, yet, when he did but circumcise her son, in a womanish peevishness reproached Moses as a bloody husband. But if God take the son himself, but spare the father, shall we say that He is a bloody God? He that gave His own son, may He not take ours? It is pride that makes a rebel; and nothing but the over-weening of ourselves and our own things that raises us against Divine Providence. Whereas Abraham's obedience was better than sacrifice. And if God please to accept both, it is indeed a farther tryal, but a greater honour. I could say over upon this beaten occasion most of those lessons of morality and religion which have been so often repeated, and are as soon forgotten. We abound with precept, but we want examples. You, sir, that have all these things in your memory, and the clearness of whose judgment is not to be obscured by any greater interposition, should be exemplary to others in your own practice. 'Tis true, it is an hard task to learn and teach at the same time. And, where yourselves are the experiment, it is as if a man should dissect his own body, and read the anatomy lecture. But I will not heighten the difficulty while I advise the attempt. Only, as in difficult things, you would do well to make use of all that may strengthen and assist you; the word of God; the society of good men; and the books of the ancients; there is one way more, which is by diversion, business, and activity; which are also necessary to be used in their season. But I myself, who live to so little purpose, can have little authority or ability to advise you in it, who are a person that are and may be much more so, generally useful. All that I have been able to do since, hath been to write this sorry Elogy of your son, which if it be as good as I could wish, it is as yet no indecent employment. However, I know you will take any thing kindly from your very affectionate friend, and most humble servant."

Milton died on the 8th of November 1674. Marvell remained among the poet's intimate friends until the end, and intended to write his life. It is idle to mourn the loss of an unwritten book, but Marvell's life of Milton would have been a treasure.1

When Parliament met on the 13th of April 1675, members found in their places a mock-speech from the throne. They knew the hand that had penned it. It was a daring production and ran as follows:-

His Majesty's Most Gracious Speech to Both Houses of Parliament.

"My Lords and Gentlemen,-I told you at our last meeting, the winter was the fittest time for business, and truly I thought so, till my Lord Treasurer assured me the spring was the best season for sallads and subsidies. I hope therefore that April will not prove so unnatural a month, as not to afford some kind showers on my parched exchequer, which gapes for want of them. Some of you, perhaps, will think it dangerous to make me too rich; but I do not fear it; for I promise you faithfully, whatever you give me I will always want; and although in other things my word may be thought a slender authority, yet in that, you may rely on me, I will never break it.

"My Lords and Gentlemen,-I can bear my straits with patience; but my Lord Treasurer does protest to me, that the revenue, as it now stands, will not serve him and me too. One of us must pinch for it, if you do not help me. I must speak freely to you: I am under bad circumstances, for besides my harlots in service, my reformado concubines lye heavy upon me. I have a passable good estate, I confess, but, God's-fish, I have a great charge upon 't. Here's my Lord Treasurer can tell, that all the money designed for next summer's guards must, of necessity, be applyed to the next year's cradles and swadling-cloths. What shall we do for ships then? I hint this only to you, it being your busyness, not mine. I know, by experience, I can live without ships. I lived ten years abroad without, and never had my health better in my life; but how you will be without, I leave to yourselves to judge, and therefore hint this only by the bye: I do not insist upon it. There's another thing I must press more earnestly, and that is this:-It seems a good part of my revenue will expire in two or three years, except you will be pleased to continue it. I have to say for 't, pray, why did you give me so much as you have done, unless you resolve to give on as fast as I call for it? The nation hates you already for giving so much, and I'll hate you too, if you do not give me more. So that if you stick not to me, you must not have a friend in England. On the other hand, if you will give me the revenue I desire, I shall be able to do those things for your religion and liberty, that I have had long in my thoughts, but cannot effect them without a little more money to carry me through. Therefore look to 't and take notice that if you do not make me rich enough to undo you, it shall lie at your doors. For my part I wash my hands on 't. But that I may gain your good opinion, the best way is to acquaint you what I have done to deserve it, out of my royal care for your religion and your property. For the first, my proclamation is a true picture of my mind, He that cannot, as in a glass, see my zeal for the Church of England, does not deserve any farther satisfaction, for I declare him wilful, abominable, and not good. Some may, perhaps, be startled, and cry, how comes this sudden change? To which I answer, I am a changling, and that's sufficient, I think. But to convince men farther, that I mean what I say, there are these arguments:-

"First, I tell you so, and you know I never break my word.

"Secondly, My Lord Treasurer says so, and he never told a lye in his life.

"Thirdly, My Lord Lauderdale will undertake it for me; and I should be loath, by any act of mine, he should forfeit the credit he has with you.

"If you desire more instances of my zeal, I have them for you. For example, I have converted my natural sons from Popery; and I may say, without vanity, it was my own work, so much the more peculiarly mine than the begetting them. 'Twould do one's heart good to hear how prettily George can read already in the Psalter. They are all fine children, God bless 'em, and so like me in their understandings. But, as I was saying, I have, to please you, given a pension to your favourite my Lord Lauderdale; not so much that I thought he wanted it, as that you would take it kindly. I have made Carwell dutchess of Portsmouth, and marryed her sister to the Earl of Pembroke. I have, at my brother's request, sent my Lord Inchequin into Barbary, to settle the Protestant Religion among the Moors, and an English Interest at Tangier. I have made Crew Bishop of Durham, and, at the first word of my Lady Portsmouth, Prideaux Bishop of Chichester. I know not, for my part, what factious men would have; but this I am sure of, my predecessors never did anything like this, to gain the good will of their subjects. So much for your religion, and now for your property. My behaviour to the Bankers is a publick instance; and the proceedings between Mrs. Hyde and Mrs. Sutton for private ones, are such convincing evidences, that it will be needless to say any more to 't.

"I must now acquaint you, that, by my Lord Treasurer's advice, I have made a considerable retrenchment upon my expenses in candles and charcoal, and do not intend to stop there, but will, with your help, look into the late embezzlements of my dripping-pans and kitchen-stuff; of which, by the way, upon my conscience, neither my Lord Treasurer nor my Lord Lauderdale are guilty. I tell you my opinion; but if you should find them dabling in that busyness, I tell you plainly, I leave 'em to you; for, I would have the world to know, I am not a man to be cheated.

"My Lords and Gentlemen, I desire you to believe me as you have found me; and I do solemnly promise you, that whatsoever you give me shall be specially managed with the same conduct, trust, sincerity, and prudence, that I have ever practised, since my happy restoration."1

Mock King's Speeches have often been made, but this is the first, and I think still the best of them all.

There was no shaking off religion from the debates of those days. A new Oaths Bill suddenly appeared in the House of Lords, where it gave rise to one of the greatest debates that assembly has ever witnessed, lasting seventeen days. The bishops were baited by the peers with great spirit, and the report of the proceedings may still be read with gusto.

Marvell, in his Growth of Popery, thus describes what happened:-

"While these things were upon the anvil, the 10th of November was come for the Parliament's sitting, but that was put off till the 13th of April 1675. And in the meantime, which fell out most opportune for the conspirators, these counsels were matured, and something further to be contrived, that was yet wanting; the Parliament accordingly meeting, and the House of Lords, as well as that of the Commons, being in deliberation of several wholesome bills, such as the present state of the nation required, the great design came out in a bill unexpectedly offered one morning in the House of Lords, whereby all such as injoyed any beneficial office, or imployment, ecclesiastical, civil, or military, to which was added privy counsellors, justices of the peace, and members of Parliament, were under a penalty to take the oath, and make the declaration, and abhorrence, insuring:-

'I A. B. do declare, that it is not lawful upon any pretence whatoever to take up arms against the King, and that I do abhor that traiterous position of taking arms by his authority against his person, or against those that are commissioned by him in pursuance of such commission. And I do swear, that I will not at any time indeavour the alteration of the government either in Church or State. So help me God.'

"This same oath had been brought into the House of Commons in the plague year at Oxford, to have been imposed upon the nation, but there, by the assistance of those very same persons that now introduce it, 'twas thrown out, for fear of a general infection of the vitals of this kingdom; and though it passed then in a particular bill, known by the name of the Five Mile Act, because it only concerned the non-conformist preachers, yet even in that, it was thoroughly opposed by the late Earl of Southampton, whose judgement might well have been reckoned for the standard of prudence and loyalty."1

Of the proposed oath Marvell says, "No Conveyancer could ever in more compendious or binding terms have drawn a dissettlement of the whole birthright of England."

This was no mere legal quibbling.

"These things are no niceties, or remote considerations (though in making of laws, and which must come afterwards under construction of judges, durante bene placito, all cases are to be put and imagined) but there being an act in Scotland for 20,000 men to march into England upon call, and so great a body of English soldiery in France, within summons, besides what foreigners may be obliged by treaty to furnish, and it being so fresh in memory, what sort of persons had lately been in commission among us, to which add the many books then printed by license, writ, some by men of the black, one of the green cloth, wherein the absoluteness of the English monarchy is against all law asserted.

"All these considerations put together were sufficient to make any honest and well advised man to conceive indeed, that upon the passing of this oath and declaration, the whole sum of affairs depended.

"It grew therefore to the greatest contest, that has perhaps ever been in Parliament, wherein those Lords, that were against this oath, being assured of their own loyalty and merit, stood up now for the English liberties with the same genius, virtue, and courage, that their noble ancestors had formerly defended the great Charter of England, but with so much greater commendation, in that they had here a fairer field and a more civil way of decision; they fought it out under all the disadvantages imaginable; they were overlaid by numbers; the noise of the House, like the wind, was against them, and if not the sun, the fireside was always in their faces; nor being so few, could they, as their adversaries, withdraw to refresh themselves in a whole day's ingagement: yet never was there a clearer demonstration how dull a thing is humane eloquence, and greatness how little, when the bright truth discovers all things in their proper colours and dimensions, and shining, shoots its beams thorow all their fallacies. It might be injurious, where all of them did so excellently well, to attribute more to any one of those Lords than another, unless because the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Shaftesbury, have been the more reproached for this brave action, it be requisite by a double proportion of praise to set them two on equal terms with the rest of their companions in honour. The particular relation in this debate, which lasted many days, with great eagerness on both sides, and the reasons but on one, was in the next Session burnt by order of the Lords, but the sparks of it will eternally fly in their adversaries' faces."1

In a letter to his constituents, dated April 22, 1675, Marvell was content to say: "The Lords sate the whole day yesterday till ten at night without rising (and the King all the while but of our addresses present) upon their Bill of Test in both houses and are not yet come to the question of committing it."

After prolonged discussion the Oath Bill was sent to the Commons, where doubtless it must have passed, had not a furious privilege quarrel over Sir John Fagg's case made prorogation in June almost a necessity. In October Parliament met again, and at once resolved itself into a Committee upon Religion to prevent the growth of Popery. This time the king made almost an end of the Parliament by a prorogation which lasted from November 1675 until February 1677-a period of fifteen months.

On the re-assembling of Parliament the Duke of Buckingham fathered the argument much used during the long recess, that a prorogation extending beyond twelve months was in construction of law a dissolution.

For the expression of this opinion and the refusal to recant it the Duke of Buckingham and three other lords were ordered to the Tower, the king being greatly angered by the duke's request that his cook might be allowed to wait on him. On this incident Marvell remarks: "Thus a prorogation without precedent was to be warranted by an imprisonment without example. A sad instance! Whereby the dignity of Parliament and especially of the House of Peers did at present much suffer and may probably more for the future, for nothing but Parliament can destroy Parliament. If a House shall once be felon of itself and stop its own breath, taking away that liberty of speech which the King verbally, and of course, allows them (as now they had done in both houses) to what purpose is it coming thither?"1

The character of this House of Commons did not improve with age.

Marvell writes in the Growth of Popery:-

"In matters of money they seem at first difficult, but having been discoursed with in private, they are set right, and begin to understand it better themselves, and to convert their brethren: for they are all of them to be bought and sold, only their number makes them cheaper, and each of them doth so overvalue himself, that sometimes they outstand or let slip their own market.

"It is not to be imagined, how small things, in this case, even members of great estates will stoop at, and most of them will do as much for hopes as others for fruition, but if their patience be tired out, they grow at last mutinous, and revolt to the country, till some better occasion offer.

"Among these are some men of the best understanding were they of equal integrity, who affect to ingross all business, to be able to quash any good motion by parliamentary skill, unless themselves be the authors, and to be the leading men of the House, and for their natural lives to continue so. But these are men that have been once fooled, most of them, and discovered, and slighted at Court, so that till some turn of State shall let them in their adversaries' place, in the mean time they look sullen, make big motions, and contrive specious bills for the subject, yet only wait the opportunity to be the instruments of the same counsels which they oppose in others.

"There is a third part still remaining, but as contrary in themselves as light and darkness; those are either the worst, or the best of men; the first are most profligate persons, they have neither estates, consciences, nor good manners, yet are therefore picked out as the necessary men, and whose votes will go furthest; the charges of their elections are defrayed, whatever they amount to, tables are kept for them at Whitehall, and through Westminster, that they may be ready at hand, within call of a question: all of them are received into pension, and know their pay-day, which they never fail of: insomuch that a great officer was pleased to say, 'That they came about him like so many jack-daws for cheese at the end of every Session.' If they be not in Parliament, they must be in prison, and as they are protected themselves, by privilege, so they sell their protections to others, to the obstruction so many years together of the law of the land, and the publick justice; for these it is, that the long and frequent adjournments are calculated, but all whether the court, or the monopolizers of the country party, or those that profane the title of old cavaliers, do equally, though upon differing reasons, like death apprehend a dissolution. But notwithstanding these, there is an handful of salt, a sparkle of soul, that hath hitherto preserved this gross body from putrefaction, some gentlemen that are constant, invariable, indeed Englishmen; such as are above hopes, or fears, or dissimulation, that can neither flatter, nor betray their king or country: but being conscious of their own loyalty and integrity, proceed throw good and bad report, to acquit themselves in their duty to God, their prince, and their nation; although so small a scantling in number, that men can scarce reckon of them more than a quorum; insomuch that it is less difficult to conceive how fire was first brought to light in the world than how any good thing could ever be produced out of an House of Commons so constituted, unless as that is imagined to have come from the rushing of trees, or battering of rocks together, by accident, so these, by their clashing with one another, have struck out an useful effect from so unlikely causes. But whatsoever casual good hath been wrought at any time by the assimilation of ambitious, factious and disappointed members, to the little, but solid, and unbiassed party, the more frequent ill effects, and consequences of so unequal a mixture, so long continued, are demonstrable and apparent. For while scarce any man comes thither with respect to the publick service, but in design to make and raise his fortune, it is not to be expressed, the debauchery, and lewdness, which, upon occasion of election to Parliaments, are now grown habitual thorow the nation. So that the vice, and the expence, are risen to such a prodigious height, that few sober men can indure to stand to be chosen on such conditions. From whence also arise feuds, and perpetual animosities, over most of the counties and corporations, while gentlemen of worth, spirit, and ancient estates and dependances, see themselves overpowered in their own neighbourhood by the drunkness and bribery, of their competitors. But if nevertheless any worthy person chance to carry the election, some mercenary or corrupt sheriff makes a double return, and so the cause is handed to the Committee of elections, who ask no better, but are ready to adopt his adversary into the House if he be not legitimate. And if the gentleman agrieved seek his remedy against the sheriff in Westminster-Hall, and the proofs be so palpable, that the King's Bench cannot invent how to do him injustice, yet the major part of the twelve judges shall upon better consideration vacate the sheriff's fine and reverse the judgement; but those of them that dare dissent from their brethren are in danger to be turned off the bench without any cause assigned. While men therefore care not thus how they get into the House of Commons, neither can it be expected that they should make any conscience of what they do there, but they are only intent how to reimburse themselves (if their elections were at their own charge) or how to bargain their votes for a place or a pension. They list themselves straightways into some Court faction, and it is as well-known among them, to what Lord each of them retain, as when formerly they wore coats and badges. By this long haunting so together, they are grown too so familiar among themselves, that all reverence of their own Assembly is lost, that they live together not like Parliament men, but like so many good fellows met together in a publick house to make merry. And which is yet worse, by being so thoroughly acquainted, they understand their number and party, so that the use of so publick a counsel is frustrated, there is no place for deliberation, no perswading by reason, but they can see one another's votes through both throats and cravats before they hear them.

"Where the cards are so well known, they are only fit for a cheat, and no fair gamester but would throw them under the table."1

It is a melancholy picture.

Here, perhaps, may be best inserted the story about the proffered bribe. The story is entitled to small credit, but as helping to swell and maintain a tradition concerning an historical character about whom little is positively known, it can hardly escape mention in any biography of Marvell. A pamphlet printed in Ireland (1754) supplies an easy flowing version of the tale.

"The borough of Hull, in the reign of Charles II., chose Andrew Marvell, a young gentleman of little or no fortune, and maintained him in London for the service of the public. His understanding, integrity, and spirit, were dreadful to the then infamous administration. Persuaded that he would be theirs for properly asking, they sent his old school-fellow, the Lord Treasurer Danby, to renew acquaintance with him in his garret. At parting, the Lord Treasurer, out of pure affection, slipped into his hand an order upon the treasury for ￡1000, and then went to his chariot. Marvell, looking at the paper, calls after the Treasurer, 'My Lord, I request another moment.' They went up again to the garret, and Jack, the servant boy, was called. 'Jack, child, what had I for dinner yesterday?' 'Don't you remember, sir? you had the little shoulder of mutton that you ordered me to bring from a woman in the market.' 'Very right, child.' 'What have I for dinner to-day?' 'Don't you know, sir, that you bid me lay by the blade-bone to broil.' ''Tis so, very right, child, go away.' 'My Lord, do you hear that? Andrew Marvell's dinner is provided; there's your piece of paper. I want it not. I knew the sort of kindness you intended. I live here to serve my constituents: the ministry may seek men for their purpose; I am not one.'"1

One more letter remains to be quoted:-

To William Ramsden, Esq.

"June 10, 1678.

"Dear Will,-I have time to tell you thus much of publick matters. The patience of the Scots, under their oppressions, is not to be paralleled in any history. They still continue their extraordinary and numerous, but peaceable, field conventicles. One Mr. Welch is their arch-minister, and the last letter I saw tells, people were going forty miles to hear him. There came out, about Christmas last, here, a large book concerning the growth of popery and arbitrary government. There have been great rewards offered in private, and considerable in the Gazette, to any one who could inform of the author or printer, but not yet discovered. Three or four printed books since have described, as near as it was proper to go, the man being a Member of Parliament, Mr. Marvell, to have been the author; but if he had, surely he should not have escaped being questioned in Parliament or some other place. My good wishes attend you."

The last letter Andrew Marvell wrote to his constituents is dated July 6, 1678. The member for Hull died in August 1678. The Parliament in which he had sat continuously for eighteen years was at last dissolved on the 30th of December in the year of his death.

181:1 Grosart, vol. iv. p. 248.

183:1 Ranke's History of England, vol. iii. p. 471.

185:1 Ranke, vol. iii. p. 520.

187:1 Grosart, vol. iv. (Growth of Popery), p. 275.

187:2 Ibid., p. 279.

189:1 See note to Dr. Airy's edition of Burnet's History, vol. ii. p. 73.

199:1 Marvell's commendatory verses on "Mr. Milton's Paradise Lost" (so entitled in the volume of 1681) were first printed in the Second Edition (1674) of Milton's great poem. Marvell did not agree with Dryden in thinking that Paradise Lost would be improved by rhyme, and says so in these verses.

202:1 Printed in Captain Thompson's edition, vol. i. p. 432.

204:1 Grosart, vol. iv. p. 304.

205:1 Grosart, vol. iv. p. 308.

206:1 Grosart, vol. iv. p. 322.

209:1 Grosart, vol. iv. p. 327.

210:1 This story is first told in a balder form by Cooke in his edition of 1726. It may be read as Cooke tells it in the Dictionary of National Biography, xxxvi., p. 329. There was probably some foundation for it.