A Character of King Charles the Second Part 1

A Character of King Charles the Second.

by George Savile, Marquis of Halifax.

A CHARACTER OF KING _CHARLES_ II.

I. _Of his_ RELIGION.

A Character differeth from a Picture only in this, every Part of it must be like, but it is not necessary that every Feature should be comprehended in it as in a Picture, only some of the most remarkable.

_This Prince_ at his first entrance into the World had Adversity for his Introducer, which is generally thought to be no ill one, but in his case it proved so, and laid the foundation of most of those Misfortunes or Errors, that were the causes of the great Objections made to him.

The first Effect it had was in relation to his _Religion_.

The ill-bred familiarity of the _Scotch_ Divines had given him a distaste of that part of the Protestant Religion. He was left then to the little Remnant of the _Church of England_ in the _Fauxbourg St. Germain_; which made such a kind of figure, as might easily be turn'd in such a manner as to make him lose his veneration for it. In a refined Country where Religion appeared in Pomp and Splendor, the outward appearance of such unfas.h.i.+onable Men was made an Argument against their Religion; and a young Prince not averse to rallery, was the more susceptible of a contempt for it.

The Company he kept, the Men in his Pleasures, and the Arguments of State that he should not appear too much a Protestant, whilst he expected a.s.sistance from a Popish Prince; all these, together with a habit encouraged by an Application to his Pleasures, did so loosen and untie him from his first Impressions, that I take it for granted, after the first Year or two, he was no more a Protestant. If you ask me what he was, my answer must be, that he was of the Religion of a young Prince in his warm Blood, whose Enquiries were more applied to find Arguments against believing, than to lay any settled Foundations for acknowledging Providence, Mysteries, _&c._ A General Creed, and no very long one, may be presumed to be the utmost Religion of one, whose Age and Inclination could not well spare any Thoughts that did not tend to his Pleasures.

In this kind of Indifference or Unthinkingness, which is too natural in the beginnings of Life to be heavily censured, I will suppose he might pa.s.s some considerable part of his Youth. I must presume too that no Occasions were lost, during that Time, to insinuate every thing to bend him towards Popery. Great Art without intermission against Youth and Easiness, which are seldom upon their guard, must have its Effect. A Man is to be admired if he resisteth, and therefore cannot reasonably be blamed if he yieldeth to them. _When_ the critical Minute was, I'll not undertake to determine; but certainly the inward Conviction doth generally precede the outward Declarations: At what distances, dependeth upon Mens several Complexions and Circ.u.mstances; no stated Period can be fixed.

It will be said that he had not Religion enough to have _Conviction_; that is a vulgar Error. Conviction indeed is not a proper word but where a Man is convinced by Reason; but in the common acceptation, it is applied to those who cannot tell why they are so: If Men can be at least as positive in a Mistake as when they are in the right; they may be as clearly convinced when they do not know why, as when they do.

I must presume that no Man of the King's Age, and his Methods of Life, could possibly give a good reason for changing the Religion in which he was born, let it be what it will. But our Pa.s.sions are much oftener convinced than our Reason. He had but little Reading, and that tending to his Pleasures more than to his Instruction. In the Library of a young Prince, the solemn Folios are not much rumpled, Books of a lighter Digestion have the Dog's Ears.

Some pretend to be very precise in the time of his Reconciling; The Cardinal _de Retz_, _&c._ I will not enter into it minutely, but whenever it was, it is observable that the Government of _France_ did not think it adviseable to discover it openly; upon which such obvious Reflections may be made, that I will not mention them.

Such a Secret can never be put into a place which is so closely stopt, that there shall be no c.h.i.n.ks. Whispers went about, particular Men had Intimations: _Cromwell_ had his Advertis.e.m.e.nts in other things, and this was as well worth his paying for. There was enough said of it to startle a great many, though not universally diffused; So much, that if the Government here, had not crumbled of itself, his Right alone, with that and other clogs upon it, would hardly have thrown it down. I conclude that when he came into _England_ he was as certainly a _Roman Catholick_, as that he was a Man of Pleasure; both very consistent by visible Experience.

It is impertinent to give Reasons for Mens changing their Religion. None can give them but themselves, as every Man has quite a different way of arguing: A thing which may very well be accounted for. They are differing kinds of Wit, to be quick to find a _Fault_, and to be capable to find out a _Truth_: There must be industry in the last; the first requires only a lively heat, that catcheth hold of the _weak_ side of any thing, but to choose the _strong_ one is another Talent. The reason why Men of Wit are often the laziest in their Enquiries is, that their heat carrieth their Thoughts so fast, that they are apt to be tired, and they faint in the drudgery of a continued Application. Have not Men of great Wit in all times permitted their Understandings to give way to their first Impressions? It taketh off from the Diminution when a Man doth not _mind_ a thing; and the King had then other Business: The inferior part of the Man was then in Possession, and the Faculties of the Brain, as to serious and painful Enquiries, were laid asleep at least, tho' not extinguished.

Careless Men are most subject to Superst.i.tion. Those who do not study Reason enough to make it their Guide, have more Unevenness: As they have Neglects, so they have Starts and Frights; Dreams will serve the turn; Omens and Sicknesses have violent and sudden Effects upon them. Nor is the strength of an Argument so effectual from its intrinsick Force, as by its being well suited to the Temper of the Party.

The _genteel part_ of the _Catholick_ Religion might tempt a Prince that had more of the fine Gentleman than his governing Capacity required: and the exercise of _Indulgence_ to _Sinners_ being more frequent in it, than of _inflicting Penance_, might be some recommendation. Mistresses of that Faith are stronger Specificks in this case, than any that are in Physick.

The _Roman Catholicks_ complained of his Breach of Promise to them very early.[1] There were broad peepings out, Glimpses so often repeated, that to discerning Eyes it was flaring: In the very first Year there were such Suspicions as produced melancholy shakings of the Head, which were very significant. His unwillingness to _marry_ a _Protestant_ was remarkable, though both the Catholick and the Christian Crown would have adopted her.

Very early in his Youth, when any _German_ Princess was proposed, he put off the discourse with Rallery. A thousand little Circ.u.mstances were a kind of acc.u.mulative Evidence, which in these Cases may be admitted.

Men that were earnest Protestants were under the sharpness of his Displeasure, expressed by Rallery, as well as by other ways. Men near him have made Discoveries from sudden breakings out in Discourse, _&c._ which shewed there was a Root. It was not the least skilful part of his concealing himself, to make the World think he leaned towards an Indifference in Religion.

He had Sicknesses _before_ his Death, in which he did not trouble any Protestant Divines; those who saw him _upon his Death-bed_, saw a great deal.

As to his writing those Papers,[2] he might do it. Though neither his Temper nor Education made him very fit to be an Author, yet in this case, (a known Topick, so very often repeated) he might write it all himself, and yet not one word of it his own. That Church's Argument doth so agree with Men unwilling to take pains, the Temptation of putting an End to all the trouble of enquiring is so great, that it must be very strong reason that can resist: The King had only his meer natural Faculties, without any Acquisitions to improve them; so that it is no wonder, if an Argument which gave such _Ease_ and _Relief_ to his Mind, made such an Impression, that with thinking often of it, (as Men are apt to do of every thing they like) he might, by the Effect chiefly of his Memory, put together a few Lines with his own Hand, without any help at the time; in which there was nothing extraordinary, but that one so little inclined to write at all, should prevail with himself to do it with the Solemnity of a Casuist.

II. _His_ DISSIMULATION.

One great Objection made to him was the concealing himself, and disguising his Thoughts. In this there ought a Lat.i.tude to be given; it is a Defect not to have it at all, and a Fault to have it too much. Human Nature will not allow the Mean: like all other things, as soon as ever Men get to do them well, they cannot easily hold from doing them too much. 'Tis the case even in the least things, as singing, _&c._

In _France_, he was to dissemble Injuries and Neglects, from one reason; in _England_ he was to dissemble too, though for other Causes; A King upon the _Throne_ hath as great Temptations (though of another kind) to dissemble, as a King in _Exile_. The King of _France_ might have his Times of Dissembling as much with him, as he could have to do it with the King of _France_: So he was in a _School_.

No King can be so little inclined to dissemble but he must needs learn it from his _Subjects_, who every Day give him such Lessons of it.

Dissimulation is like most other Qualities, it hath two Sides; it is necessary, and yet it is dangerous too. To have none at all layeth a Man open to Contempt, to have too much exposeth him to Suspicion, which is only the less dishonourable Inconvenience. If a Man doth not take very great Precautions, he is never so much shewed as when he endeavoureth to hide himself. One Man cannot take more pains to hide himself, than another will do to see into him, especially in the Case of Kings.

It is none of the exalted Faculties of the Mind, since there are Chamber-Maids will do it better than any Prince in Christendom. Men given to dissembling are like Rooks at play, they will cheat for s.h.i.+llings they are so used to it. The vulgar Definition of Dissembling is downright Lying; that kind of it which is less ill-bred cometh pretty near it. Only Princes and Persons of Honour must have gentler Words given to their Faults, than the nature of them may in themselves deserve.

Princes dissemble with too many, not to have it discovered; no wonder then that He carried it so far that it was discovered. Men compared Notes, and got Evidence; so that those whose Morality would give them leave, took it for an Excuse for serving him ill. Those who knew his Face, fixed their Eyes there; and thought it of more Importance to see, than to hear what he said. His Face was as little a Blab as most Mens, yet though it could not be called a prattling Face, it would sometimes tell Tales to a good Observer. When he thought fit to be angry, he had a very peevish Memory; there was hardly a Blot that escaped him. At the same time that this shewed the Strength of his Dissimulation, it gave warning too; it fitted his present Purpose, but it made a Discovery that put Men more upon their Guard against him. Only Self-flattery furnisheth perpetual Arguments to trust again: The comfortable Opinion Men have of themselves keepeth up Human Society, which would be more than half destroyed without it.

III. _His_ AMOURS, MISTRESSES, _&c._

It may be said that his Inclinations to Love were the Effects of Health, and a good Const.i.tution, with as little mixture of the _Seraphick_ part as ever Man had: And though from that Foundation Men often raise their Pa.s.sions; I am apt to think his stayed as much as any Man's ever did in the _lower Region_. This made him like easy Mistresses: They were generally resigned to him while he was abroad, with an implied Bargain.

Heroick refined Lovers place a good deal of their Pleasure in the Difficulty, both for the vanity of Conquest, and as a better earnest of their Kindness.

After he was restored, Mistresses were recommended to him; which is no small matter in a _Court_, and not unworthy the Thoughts even of a _Party_. A Mistress either dexterous in herself, or well-instructed by those that are so, may be very useful to her Friends, not only in the immediate Hours of her Ministry, but by her Influences and Insinuations at other times. It was resolved generally by others, whom he should have in his Arms, as well as whom he should have in his Councils. Of a Man who was so capable of choosing, he chose as seldom as any Man that ever lived.

He had more properly, at least in the beginning of his Time, a good Stomach to his Mistresses, than any great Pa.s.sion for them. His taking them from others was never learnt in a Romance; and indeed fitter for a Philosopher than a Knight-Errant. His Patience for their Frailties shewed him no exact Lover. It is a Heresy according to a true Lover's Creed, ever to forgive an Infidelity, or the Appearance of it. Love of Ease will not do it, where the _Heart_ is much engaged; but where mere _Nature_ is the Motive, it is possible for a Man to think righter than the common opinion, and to argue, that a Rival taketh away nothing but the Heart, and leaveth all the rest.

In his latter Times he had no _Love_, but insensible Engagements that made it harder than most might apprehend to untie them. The _Politicks_ might have their part; a Secret, a Commission, a Confidence in critical Things, though it doth not give a Lease for a precise term of Years, yet there may be Difficulties in dismissing them; there may be no Love all the while; perhaps the contrary.

He was said to be as little constant as they were thought to be. Though he had no Love, he must have some Appet.i.te, or else he could not keep them for meer ease, or for the Love of sauntring; Mistresses are frequently apt to be uneasy; they are in all Respects craving Creatures; so that though the taste of those Joys might be flattened, yet a Man who loved Pleasure so as to be very unwilling to part with it, might (with the a.s.sistance of his _Fancy_, which doth not grow old so fast) reserve some supplemental Entertainments, that might make their personal Service be still of use to him. The Definition of Pleasure, is _what pleaseth_, and if that which grave Men may call a corrupted Fancy, shall adminster any Remedies for putting off mourning for the loss of Youth, who shall blame it?

The _young_ Men seldom apply their censure to these Matters; and the _elder_ have an Interest to be gentle towards a Mistake, that seemeth to make some kind of amends for their Decays.

He had Wit enough to _suspect_, and he had Wit enough too _not to care_: The Ladies got a great deal more than would have been allowed to be an equal bargain in _Chancery_, for what they did for it; but neither the manner, nor the measure of Pleasure is to be judged by others.

Little Inducements at first grew into strong Reasons by degrees. Men who do not consider Circ.u.mstances, but judge at a distance, by a general way of arguing, conclude if a Mistress in some Cases is not immediately turned off, it must needs be that the Gallant is incurably subjected. This will by no means hold in private Men, much less in Princes, who are under more Entanglements, from which they cannot so easily loosen themselves.

His Mistresses were as different in their Humours, as they were in their Looks. They gave Matter of very different Reflections. The last[3]

especially was quite out of the Definition of an ordinary Mistress; the Causes and the Manner of her being first introduced were very different. A very peculiar Distinction was spoken of, same extraordinary Solemnities that might dignify, though not sanctify her Function. Her Chamber was the true Cabinet Council. The King did always by his Councils, as he did sometimes by his Meals; he sat down out of form with the _Queen_, but he supped _below Stairs_. To have the Secrets of a King, who happens to have too many, is to have a King in Chains: He must not only, not part with her, but he must in his own Defence dissemble his dislike: The less kindness he hath, the more he must shew: There is great difference between being _m.u.f.fled_, and being _tied_: He was the first, not the last.

If he had quarelled at some times, besides other Advantages, this Mistress had a powerful _Second_; (one may suppose a kind of a _Guarantee_) this to a Man that loved his _Ease_, though his _Age_ had not helped, was sufficient.

The thing called _Sauntering_, is a stronger Temptation to Princes than it is to others. The being galled with Importunities, pursued from one Room to another with asking Faces; the dismal Sound of unreasonable Complaints, and ill-grounded Pretences; the Deformity of Fraud ill-disguised; all these would make any Man run away from them; and I used to think it was the Motive for making him walk so fast. So it was more properly taking Sanctuary. To get into a Room, where all Business was to stay at the Door, excepting such as he was disposed to admit, might be very acceptable to a younger Man than he was, and less given to his Ease. He slumbered after Dinner, had the noise of the Company to divert him, without their Solicitations to importune him. In these Hours where he was more unguarded, no doubt the cunning Men of the Court took their times to make their Observations, and there is as little doubt but he made his upon them too: Where Men had c.h.i.n.ks he would see through them as soon as any Man about him. There was much more real Business done there in his Politick, than there was in his personal Capacity, _Stans pede in uno_; and there was the _French part_ of _the Government_, which was not the least.

In short, without endeavouring to find more Arguments, he was _used_ to it. Men do not care to put off a Habit, nor do often succeed when they go about it. His was not an _unthinkingness_; he did not perhaps think so much of his Subjects as they might wish; but he was far from being wanting to think of himself.

IV. _His_ CONDUCT _to his_ MINISTERS.

He lived with his Ministers as he did with his Mistresses; he used them, but he was not in love with them. He shewed his Judgment in this, that he cannot properly be said ever to have had a _Favourite_, though some might look so at a distance. The present use he might have of them, made him throw Favours upon them, which might lead the lookers on into that mistake; but he tied himself no more to them, than they did to him, which implied a sufficient Liberty on either side.

Perhaps he made _dear Purchases_: If he seldom gave profusely, but where he expected some unreasonable thing, great Rewards were material Evidences against those who received them.

He was _free of access_ to them, which was a very gaining Quality. He had at least as good a Memory for the Faults of his Ministers as for their Services; and whenever they fell, the whole Inventory came out; there was not a slip omitted.

That some of his Ministers seemed to have a _Superiority_, did not spring from his Resignation to them, but to his Ease. He chose rather to be _eclipsed_ than to be _troubled_.

His Brother was a Minister, and he had his Jealousies of him. At the same time that he raised him, he was not displeased to have him lessened. The cunning Observers found this out, and at the same time that he reigned in the Cabinet, he was very familiarly used at the private Supper.