SIR JOHN ELIOT.

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These violent invasions of the rights of property and pe for consideration at an early period of the session. The Co. their discussions, framed, on the 27th of May, 1628, that se the liberties of England, the PETITION OF RIGHT; so called the humble spirit of the day, in the form of a petition to the Kin ratified by his concurrence, all the authority of a fundamental 1. This document was prepared by Sir Edward Coke at the age of was one of the last public acts of that distinguished lawyer. It loan or tax might be levied but by consent of Parliament; that n imprisoned but by legal process; that soldiers might not be quartered trary to their wills; and that no commissions be granted for executing On the 2d of June, Charles returned an evasive answer, in which he e satisfy the Commons without giving a legal and binding assent to the petition. The next day, Sir John Eliot made the following speech. It breathes throughout, that spirit of affection and reverence for the King's person which was still felt by both houses of Parliament. It does not dwell, therefore, on those recent acts of arbitrary power in which the King might be supposed to have reluctantly concurred; and the fact is a striking one, that Eliot does not even allude to his late cruel imprisonment. a decisive proof that he was not actuated by a spirit of personal resentment. ntire speech was directed against the royal Favorite, the Duke of Buckingham. Its The object was, to expose his flagrant misconduct during the preceding ten years, under the reign of James as well as Charles; and to show that through his duplicity, incompetency, and rash counsels, the honor of the kingdom had been betrayed, its allies paviikotu, na udasufes Wasted, and those necessities of the King created which gave rise to the arbitrary acts referred to in the Petition of Right. adduces in proof, are very briefly mentioned, or barely alluded to, because they were The facts which Elio fresh in the minds of all, and had created a burning sense of wrong and dishonor throughout the whole kingdom. They will be explained in brief notes appended to the speech; but, to feel their full force, the reader must go back to the history of the times, and place himself in the midst of the scene.

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There is in this speech, a union of dignity and fervor which is highly characteristic of the man. His mind," says Lord Nugent, of philosophy and a confidence in religion which gave a lofty tone to his eloquence." "was deeply imbued with a love His fervor, acting on a clear and powerful understanding, gives him a simplicity directness, and continuity of thought, a rapidity of progress, and a vehemence of ap peal, which will remind the reader of the style of Demosthenes. His whole soul i occupied with the subject. (He seizes upon the strong points of his case with suck absorbing interest, that all those secondary and collateral trains of thought with which a speaker like Burke, amplifies and adorns the discussion, are rejected as unworthy of the stern severity of the occasion. The eloquence lies wholly in the thought; and the entire bareness of the expression, the absence of all ornament, adds to the effect, because there is nothing interposed to break the force of the blow. The antique air of the style heightens the interest of the speech; and will recommend it particularly to those who have learned to relish the varied construc ion and racy English of our early writers.

SELECT BRITISH ELOQUENCE.

SIR JOHN ELIOT.

JOHN ELIOT was descended from a family of great respectability in Cornwall, and was born on the 20th of April, 1590. After enjoying the best advantages for education which England could afford, and spending some years in foreign travel, he was elected to Parliament at the age of thirty-three, and became one of the most pron. inent members in the House of Commons under Charles I.

The House embraced at this time, some of the ablest and most learned men of the age, such as Sir Edward Coke, John Hampden, Selden, St. John, Pym, &.1 Among these, Sir John Eliot stood pre-eminent for the force and fervor of his eloquence. The general style of speaking at that day was weighty, grave, and sententious, but tinctured with the pedantry of the preceding reign, and destitute of that warmth of feeling which is essential to the character of a great orator. Eliot, Wentworth, and a few others were exceptions; and Eliot especially spoke at times with all the enthusiasm and vehemence of the early days of Greece and Rome.

Hence he was appointed one of the managers of the House when the Duke of Buckingham was impeached in 1626, and had the part assigned him of making the closing argument against the Duke before the House of Lords. This he did with such energy and effect as to awaken the keenest resentment of the Court; so that two days after he was called out of the House, as if to receive a message from the King, and was instantly seized and hurried off by water to the Tower. The Commons, on hearing of this breach of privilege, were thrown into violent commotion. The cry Rise!" "Rise!" was heard from every part of the hall. They did immediately adjourn, and met again only to record their resolution, "Not to do any more business until they were righted in their privileges." This decisive measure brought the government to a stand, and reduced them to the humiliating necessity of releasing Sir John Eliot, and also Sir Dudley Diggs, another of the managers who had been arrested on the same occasion. Eliot and his companion returned in triumph to the House, which voted that "they had not exceeded the commission intrusted to them." In consequence of this defeat, and the backwardness of the Commons to grant the supplies demanded, Charles soon after dissolved Parliament, and determined to raise money by "forced loans." Great numbers resisted this imposition, and among them Eliot and Hampden, who, with seventy-six others of the gentry, were thrown into prison for refusing to surrender their property to the Crown; while hundreds of inferior rank were impressed into the army or navy by way of punishment. The King found, however, that with all this violence he could not raise the necessary sup plies, and was compelled to call another Parliament within eight months. Eliot Hampden, and many others who had been lying under arrest, were elected member of the new House of Commons while thus confined in prison, and were released on! a few days before the meeting of Parliament.

SPEECH

OF SIR JOHN ELIOT ON THE PETITION of right, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS JUNE 3, 1628.

MR. SPEAKER,--We sit here as the great | authority of books? Look on the collections of Council of the King, and in that capacity, it is the Committee for Religion; there is too clear an our duty to take into consideration the state and evidence. See there the commission procured affairs of the kingdom, and when there is occa- for composition with the papists of the North! sion, to give a true representation of them by Mark the proceedings thereupon, and you will way of counsel and advice, with what we con- find them to little less amounting than a tolerareive necessary or expedient to be done. tion in effect the slight payments, and the easi ness of them, will likewise show the favor that is intended. Will you have proofs of men? Witness the hopes, witness the presumptions, witness the reports of all the papists generally. Ob

of officers, the confidence in secretaries to employments in this kingdom, in Ireland, and elsewhere. These will all show that it hath too great a certainty. And to this add but the incontrovertible evidence of that All-powerful Hand, which we have felt so sorely, that gave it full assurance; for as the heavens oppose themselves to our impiety, so it is we that first opposed the heavens.

In this consideration, I confess many a sad thought hath affrighted me, and that not only in respect of our dangers from abroad (which yet I know are great, as they have been often prest and dilated to us), but in respect of our disor-serve the dispositions of commanders, the trust ders here at home, which do enforce those dangers, and by which they are occasioned. For I believe I shall make it clear to you, that both at first, the cause of these dangers were our disorders, and our disorders now are yet our greatest dangers-that not so much the potency of our enemies as the weakness of ourselves, doth threatea us: so that the saying of one of the Fathers may be assumed by us, non tam potentià sua quam negligentia nostra," "not so much by their power as by our neglect." Our want of true devotion to heaven our insincerity and doubling in religion-our went of councils-our preeipitate actions—the insufficiency or unfaithfulness of our generals abroad—the ignorance or eorruption of our ministers at home-the impoverishing of the sovereign-the oppression and depression of the subject-the exhausting of our treasures the waste of our provisions-consumption of our ships-destruction of our men these make the advantage to our enemies, not the reputation of their arms; and if in these there be not reformation, we need no foes abroad: Time itself will ruin us.

To show this more fully, I believe you will all hold it necessary that what I say, should not seem an aspersion on the state or imputation on the government, as I have known such motions misinterpreted. But far is this from me to propose who have none but clear thoughts of the exelency of the King; nor can I have other end but the advancement of his Majesty's glory. I sall desire a little of your patience extraordina, as I lay open the particulars, which I shall do with what brevity I may, answerable to the imprtance of the cause and the necessity now upo, us; yet with such respect and observation to the time, as I hope it shall not be thought

troublesome.

I. For the first, then, our insincerity and doubing in religion, is the greatest and most dangerous disorder of all others. This hath never been unpunished; and of this we have many strong examples of all states and in all times to awe us. What testimony doth it want? Will you have

II. For the second, our want of councils, that great disorder in a state under which there can not be stability. If effects may show their causes (as they are often a perfect demonstration of them), our misfortunes, our disasters, serve to prove our deficiencies in council, and the consequences they draw with them. If reason be allowed in this dark age, the judgment of depend. encies and foresight of contingencies in affairs, do confirm my position. For, if we view ourselves at home, are we in strength, are we in reputation, equal to our ancestors? If we view ourselves abroad, are our friends as many? are our enemies no more? Do our friends retain their safety and possessions? Do not our ene mies enlarge themselves, and gain from them and us? To what council owe we the loss of the Palatinate, where we sacrificed both our honor and our men sent thither, stopping those greater powers appointed for the service, by which it might have been defended ? What council gave

1 The gun-powder plot for blowing up both hous. ligion at a single stroke, was still fresh in the minds es of Parliament, and extirpating the Protestant reof all. It is not, therefore, surprising, at a period when correct views of religious liberty were as yet unknown in England, that any remissness in ex ecuting the laws against Catholics, was regarded with great jealousy by Eliot and his friends, espe cially as the mother of Buckingham was of that com. munion.

2 Frederick V., the Elector Palatine, who married "the beautiful Elizabeth," sister of Charles I., had been attacked on religious grounds by a union of Catholic states in Germany, with Austria at their head, stripped of the Palatinate, and driven as an exile into Holland, with his wife and child

direction to the late action, whose wounds are yet | entable experier.ce. It hath made an absolute bleeding, I mean the expedition to Rhé, of which | breach between that state and us, and so enterthere is yet so sad a memory in all men? What tains us against France, and France in prepara. design for us, or advantage to our state, could that impart ?

You know the wisdom of your ancestors, and the practice of their times, how they preserved their safeties. We all know, and have as much cause to doubt [i. e., distrust or guard against] as they had, the greatness and ambition of that kingdom, which the Old World could not satisfy.3 Against this greatness and ambition, we likewise know the proceedings of that princess, that never-to-be-forgotten, excellent Queen Elizabeth, whose name, without admiration, falls not into mention even with her enemies. You know how she advanced herself, and how she advanced the nation in glory and in state; how she depressed her enemies, and how she upheld her friends; how she enjoyed a full security, and made those our scorn who now are made our terror.

Some of the principles she built on were these; and if I mistake, let reason and our statesmen contradict me.

First, to maintain, in what she might, a unity in France, that the kingdom, being at peace within itself, might be a bulwark to keep back the power of Spain by land.

tion against us, that we have nothing to promise to our neighbors, nay, hardly to ourselves. Next, observe the time in which it was attempted, and you shall find it not only varying from those principles, but directly contrary and opposite to those ends; and such, as from the issue and success, rather might be thought a conception of Spain than begotten here with us.

[Here there was an interruption made by Sır Humphrey May, Chancellor of the Duchy and of the Privy Council, expressing a dislike; but the House ordered Sir John Eliot to go on, where upon he proceeded thus:]

Mr. Speaker, I am sorry for this interruption, but much more sorry if there hath been occasion on my part. And, as I shall submit myself whol ly to your judgment, to receive what censure you may give me, if I have offended, so, in the integ rity of my intentions and the clearness of my thoughts, I must still retain this confidence, that no greatness shall deter me from the duties I owe to the service of my king and country; but that, with a true English heart, I shall discharge myself as faithfully and as really, to the extent of my poor power, as any man whose honors or whose offices most strictly oblige him.

You know the dangers of Denmark, and how much they concern us; what in respect of our alliance and the country; what in the importance of the Sound; what an advantage to our enemies the gain thereof would be! What loss, what prejudice to us by this disunion; we breaking in upon France, France enraged by us, and the Netherlands at amazement between both! Neither could we intend to aid that luckless king [Christian IV., of Denmark], whose loss is our disaster.

Can those [the King's ministers] that express their trouble at the hearing of these things, and have so often told us in this place of their knowledge in the conjunctures and disjunctures of affairs-can they say they advised in this? Was this an act of council, Mr. Speaker? I have more

Next, to preserve an amity and league between that state and us, that so we might come in aid of the Low Countries [Holland], and by that means receive their ships, and help them by sea. | This triple cord, so working between France, the States [Holland], and England, might enable us, as occasion should require, to give assistance unto others. And by this means, as the experience of that time doth tell us, we were not only free from those fears that now possess and trouble us, but then our names were fearful to our enemies. See now what correspondency our action had with this. Try our conduct by these rules. It did induce, as a necessary consequence, a division in France between the Protestants and their king, of which there is too woful and lamProtestant Christendom was indignant at these wrongs; and the King of England was expected to sustain the injured Elector on the double ground of family alliance and a community of religion. These expectations had all been disappointed by the weak, 5 Christian IV., King of Denmark, as a leading indecisive, and fluctuating counsels of Buckingham. Protestant prince, and uncle to Elizabeth, wife of Twelve thousand English troops were indeed sent Frederick, the Elector Palatine, had entered warm. to assist Frederick, under Count Mansfeldt, but nearly into their cause, and marched with a large army ly all of them perished on the way, from mere want of foresight and preparation on the part of the English government. This wanton sacrifice of life is alluded to at the close of the speech in a single word -"Mansfeldt!"-a name which at that time smote on the heart of the whole English nation. The expedition to the Isle of Rhé, mentioned in the next sentence, will be explained hereafter.

3 To understand the force and beauty of this allusion to Spain, we must go back to the time when all Europe was filled with dismay at the power of the Spanish arms on both continents. Few things in English eloquence, as Forster remarks, are finer in expression or purpose, than this allusion and the subsequent train of thought, as addressed to English men of that day.

This refers to the expedition against the Isle of Rhé, respecting which see note 8.

to reinstate them in the Palatinate. After some partial successes, however, he was repulsed by the Austrians, driven back into his own dominions, and reduced to imminent danger of being stripped of all his possessions. The English trade through the Sound into the Baltic, which was of great value was thus on the point of being entirely cut off by the establishment of a hostile power on the ruins of Den mark. Yet England had done nothing to sustain her ally, or to protect her rights and interests in that quarter; and the English people were jusly in censed against Buckingham for this neglect.

Here, as above, allusion is made to the disgrace ful expedition against the Isle of Rhé, by which France was enraged, and no diversion in favor of Denmark either made or intended.

Was not

charity than to think it; and unless they make trouble you much; only this, in short. confession of it themselves, I can not believe it. that whole action carried against the judgment III. For the next, the insufficiency and un- and opinion of those officers that were of the faithfulness of our generals (that great disorder council? Was not the first, was not the last, abroad), what shall I say? I wish there were was not all in the landing-in the intrenchingnot cause to mention it; and, but for the appre- in the continuance there-in the assault-in the hension of the danger that is to come, if the like retreat-without their assent? Did any advice choice hereafter be not prevented, I could will- take place of such as were of the council? If ingly be silent. But my duty to my sovereign, there should be made a particular inquisition my service to this House, and the safety and hon-thereof, these things will be manifest and more. or of my country, are above all respects; and what so nearly trenches to the prejudice of these, must not, shall not be forborne.

At Cadiz, then, in that first expedition we made, when we arrived and found a conquest ready-the Spanish ships, I mean, fit for the satisfaction of a voyage, and of which some of the chiefest then there, themselves have since assured me, that the satisfaction would have been sufficient, either in point of honor or in point of profit-why was it neglected? Why was it not achieved, it being granted on all hands how feasible it was?

I will not instance the manifesto that was made, giving the reason of these arms; nor by whom, nor in what manner, nor on what grounds it was published, nor what effects it hath wrought, drawing, as it were, almost the whole world into league against us. Nor will I mention the leaving of the wines, the leaving of the salt, which were in our possession, and of a value, as it is said, to answer much of our expense. No. will I dwell on that great wonder (which no Alexander or Cæsar9 ever did), the enriching of the enemy by courtesies when our soldiers wanted help; nor the private intercourse and parleys with the fort, which were continually held. What they intended may be read in the success; and upon due examination thereof, they would not want their proofs.

Afterward, when, with the destruction of some of our men and the exposure of others, who (though their fortune since has not been such), by chance, came off safe-when, I say, with the loss of our serviceable men, that unserviceable For the last voyage to Rochelle, there need fort was gained, and the whole army landed, why no observations, it is so fresh in memory; nor was there nothing done? Why was there noth-will I make an inference or corollary on all. ing attempted? If nothing was intended, where- Your own knowledge shall judge what truth or fore did they land? If there was a service, where- what sufficiency they express. fore were they shipped again? Mr. Speaker, it IV. For the next, the ignorance and corrupsatisfies me too much [i. e., I am over-satisfied] tion of our ministers, where can you miss of inin this case-when I think of their dry and hun- stances? If you survey the court, if you survey gry march into that drunken quarter (for so the the country; if the church, if the city be examoldiers termed it), which was the period [term- open arms. But the Rochellers, having no previination] of their journey-that divers of our men ous arrangement with him on the subject, and prob being left as a sacrifice to the enemy, that laborably distrusting his intentions, refused to admit him was at an end.

For the next undertaking, at Rhé, I will not

7 Buckingham, at the close of 1625, had fitted out a fleet of eighty sail, to intercept the Spanish treasure-ships from America, to scour the coasts of Spain, and destroy the shipping in her ports. Owing to the atter incompetency of the commander, there was no concert or subordination in the fleet. The treasureships were not intercepted; but seven other large and rich Spanish ships, which would have repaid all the expenses of the expedition, were suffered to escape, when they might easily have been taken. At length a landing was effected in the neighborhood of Cadiz, and the paltry fort of Puntal was taken. The English soldiers broke open the wine-cellars of the country around, and became drunk and unmanageable; so that the Spanish troops, if they had known their condition, might easily have cut the whole army to pieces. Their commander, as the only course left him, retreated to the ships, leaving some hundreds of his men to perish under the knives of the enraged peasantry.

* Buckingham, from motives of personal resentment against the French king, undertook, in June, 1627, to aid the Huguenots at Rochelle, who were in a state of open rebellion. He therefore sailed with a fleet of one hundred ships and seven thousand land forces, taking the command of the expedition himself, and expecting to be received with

into the town, and advised him to take possession of the Isle of Rhé, in the neighborhood. This he did, and immediately issued a manifesto, inciting the Protestants throughout France to rebel against their government. Great indignation was awakened in Europe by this attempt to rekindle the flames of civil war in that country. His appeal was, unfortunately, successful. The Protestants in the south of France rose almost to a man. A bloody conflict ensued, in which they were completely crushed, and their condition rendered far more wretched than be fore. Buckingham, in the mean time, conducted ev ery thing wildly and at random. In October, a reenforcement of fifteen hundred men was sent out mentioned in the speech as "the last voyage to Rochelle;" but the Duke was still repulsed, with loss at every point, till he was compelled to return in disgrace, with the loss of one third of his troops, in the month of November, 1627. This speech was delivered in June of the next year, while the nation was still smarting under the sense of the disasters and disgraces of this mad expedition.

This sneer at the generalship of Buckingham was keenly felt, and derived its peculiar force from the lofty pretensions and high-sounding titles he assumed. He had also made himself ridiculous, and even suspected of treachery, by his affectation of courtesy in the interchange of civilities with the French commanders. To this Eliot alludes with stinging effect in the remaining part of the sentence