The Doctor further observed, that every situation had its temptations. The Hermit in his cell is haunted by spiritual pride, and even when we perform those active duties of benevolence which our religion requires, we must beware lest we are guilty of ostentation. If, when we rise from our knees, we have judged harshly of our brother, the volume of inspiration assures us, that we have sinned in our prayers. The same vigilant examination and lowliness of heart which Christians in private life require, will prevent those who inhabit courts and camps from displeasing their Creator. Or admit that the latter have greater temptations to offend, are they not amenable to a judge, who determines actions by relative circumstances, who awards brighter crowns to those who have endured sharper conflicts, and pardons the offences of over-tried frailty. From the private citizen, who is blessed with leisure and security to consider his ways, he requires those passive virtues, that humble and grateful spirit, which in evil times are yet more rarely seen, than integrity and ability in rulers, who, walking among briars and thorns, harassed by public and private enemies, calumniated and misrepresented, exposed to numerous temptations, dangers, and snares, will, doubtless, if guided by singleness of heart, receive from God that pardon for their errors, which is denied them by those who reap the fruits of their labours.

"We may," continued he, "live in the world[[1] ] , without either shewing a haughty contempt for its enjoyments, or being devoted to its delights; without being intoxicated with its flattery, or depressed by its misfortunes. A court-life must, at your age, seem pleasant, but should you in future become weary of it, and regret that you have not sufficient time to devote to God, and to cherish the thought of him in your heart, recollect that wherever he places you, you are as sure of his favour and acceptance, as if you passed every hour of your life in meditation and prayer. God is served, not merely with the words of the mouth or the bending of the knee; it is the pure and upright heart which he requires, and with which alone he will be satisfied; with this upright frame of mind we may live in the world, without either singularity or affectation, and cheerfully conform to its customs and amusements, yet preserve the most strict subjection and duty to the Almighty."

"Suffer not, dearest Eustace, pleasure or business to prevent the solemn duties of self-examination and prayer. These are spiritual antidotes, which preserve an endangered soul from the contamination of evil customs and loose society. When leisure permits, add religious reading, and above all the study of the Holy Scriptures. Never allow this world to be balanced against the next: eternity outweighs all that time can offer; be it pleasure, wealth, advancement, or glory. Keep these things in mind; serve thy Creator in thy youth; remember innocence is preferable to repentance, and I shall then see thee like assayed gold purified by trial."

Eustace promised a strict observance, and Dr. Beaumont now esteemed it his duty to send the faithful Williams to Colonel Evellin to acquaint him with what had passed, and to receive further directions for the disposal of his son. He also privately informed the King of the solemn promise he had made to Evellin, and obtained an assurance that the service of Eustace should never be required so as to incur a breach of that obligation; and further, that if no other restrictions could prevail, his own commands should confine the volunteer to the defence of Oxford, which was now threatened with a siege by the advancing armies of the Earl of Essex and Sir William Waller.

When we contemplate the miseries incident to civil war in a remote age, our views are fixed on the effects of discord, as visible in the contentions of two great opposing parties; we do not consider either the minor factions into which each body is split, or the distracted counsels and inefficient measures which constantly occur, when it is known that the restraint of prescriptive authority is necessarily relaxed, and that he who ought to govern and reward, is compelled to submit to controul and to sue for favour. When the head of a community is humbled, every member thinks he has a right to pre-eminence; and thus a war, begun under the pretence of subduing a tyrant, eventually creates multitudes of petty despots, only contemptible, because their sphere of oppression is small. In the King's council, the wisdom of Southampton, the moderation of Falkland, and the integrity of Hyde, had to contend with the pride and petulance of those who would not lower their own pretensions in deference to the public good, or forgive a private wrong for the sake of that unity which alone could secure the whole. In the army discord was equally prevalent; the generals accusing each other on every mischance, panting for superiority, and all offended at the hauteur of Prince Rupert, and jealous of the influence of Lord Digby. The Parliament was still more divided; in it that party was now ripening, which finally overturned every branch of the constitution, and founded a most oppressive but vigorous tyranny on its ruins.

The old republican leaders, or commonwealth's men, as they were called, began to see that self-preservation required their re-union with the King; but the aspiring Cromwell and his crafty adherents, relying on their numbers and influence in the army, resolved to clog every proposal of peace with terms which they knew the Sovereign must from conscience refuse. Of the generals who commanded their armies, the Earl of Essex was already known to have seen his error, in suffering pique at supposed slights and unintentional negligence to stimulate his pride into that rebellion which his principles condemned; and it was believed, even by his own party, that nothing but a dread of having sinned beyond sincere forgiveness, induced him to reject all overtures from the King. The disorderly bands commanded by Sir William Waller were like their general, distinguished only by greater insolence to their Prince, and even by personal attempts on his life; but this army had been dispersed early in the summer, and the leader had fallen into contempt. "The Earl of Manchester was of their whole cabal the most unfit for the company he kept, at first induced to join, what was then called, the patriotic party by filial piety, and led step by step to countenance those disorganizing counsels, which ravaged the country he loved with too unskilful a tenderness:" yet, unwilling to oppress any, he used the power his ill-acquired authority gave him, to preserve individuals from the distress which his fatal victories occasioned. This moderation ruined him in the eyes of his employers; and about this time there appeared in his army that dark malignant spirit, whose subtile machinations soon deprived him of all power of restraining the torrent, which, when he helped to raise the flood-gates of contention, he hoped he should always be able to direct and control. Sir Thomas Fairfax, the Parliamentary general in the north, was, by nature, a lover of moderation, and by education enlightened and liberal. He also strove, as far as his influence extended, to lessen the miseries of civil war; but that influence soon sunk under the daring preponderance of Cromwell, whose ultimate designs he wanted penetration to discover, and whose dark machinations he was always too late in his efforts to counteract.

Such was the state of the kingdom, when the Queen, terrified at the apprehension of being besieged in Oxford, fled to the west of England, and soon after to France, her native country, leaving an infant daughter to increase the anxieties of her Royal husband, but relieving him from the perplexities originating in the contentious faction, by whom she was surrounded. Through the injunctions of the King, Eustace had been prevented from accompanying his Royal mistress, and by enrolling his name among the bands who garrisoned Oxford, he in some degree discharged his sense of duty. Dr. Beaumont, besides, allowed him to take part in the enterprizes by which those vigilant warriors shewed their zeal and fidelity, as soon as they were relieved from their apprehensions for the safety of that important post, by the retreat of the rebel army.

As Williams did not return with an answer from Colonel Evellin, it was concluded that he had fallen into the hands of the enemy, a misfortune too common to the Royal expresses. One however arrived from the north, charged with most dolorous tidings of the fatal overthrow at Marston-Moor, the loss of York, and of its whole province, which had for so long a space resisted the incursions of the republican party, under the auspices of the Marquis of Newcastle. These direful events, which resulted from want of concord between the King's generals, were followed by Lord Newcastle's quitting the kingdom in a hasty sally of passionate despair, and by the dispersion of the army which his influence had raised, and his munificent loyalty had maintained. Only one small band of Loyalists under the command of Sir Thomas Glenham remained, who, after the reduction of York, threw themselves into Carlisle, and bravely defended it eleven months against a victorious enemy, without prospect of assistance. To this fragment of a powerful army Colonel Evellin attached himself. He sent a letter by the same person who brought the dispatch to the King, informing his friends that he was unwounded either in his person or his reputation, and ready to suffer every thing but dishonour for his injured Monarch. He gave a lively description of the respective armies, and of the misfortunes of the Royal cause, in being intrusted to men who suffered passion to prevail over judgment, and chose to sacrifice their King sooner than quell their private resentments. But he complained in the tone of a man who had made his choice, and though hopeless of success resolved to persevere, and welcomed self-denial and sorrow. He assured Dr. Beaumont that the rebels had gained no victory over his principles; his enmity to their undertakings remained the same; "and if," said he, "the little remnant of my days is cut off in the next engagement, I shall live in my children; and they will, I doubt not, see the destruction of these 'covenanters', who cause the ruin of families and the decay of common honesty; changing the former piety and plain dealing of this nation into cruelty and cunning. When I see all they have done, I thank God that he prevented me from being one of the party which helped to bring in these sad confusions[[2]], and I pray him to preserve my son to see their just punishment."

As this letter proved that the Colonel had not met with Williams, it operated as a renewed inhibition on Dr. Beaumont to prevent Eustace from rushing into the field, for which he had now a fresh incentive in the friendship he had formed with Major Monthault, a young man of birth and fortune, who had been attached, like himself, to the Queen's suite. This youth had seen actual service, and spoke with enthusiasm of the character of Lord Goring, then just appointed general of the horse in the west. He described him as the soldier's darling; a Mars in the field; an Apollo at mess; a Jove in council, and a Paris among the fair. It was evident that Monthault piqued himself on being the counter-part of the excellence he commended, especially in the last particular. His intimacy with Eustace allowed him to visit Dr. Beaumont's family, and his attentions to the fair Helen of the group were certainly more marked than delicate, and would have excited the fears of Eustace, had he not taken care to inform the Major that he was betrothed to his lovely cousin with the entire approbation of herself and their mutual friends, though their union was deferred until a riper age and happier period. To admire and praise, or even to gaze passionately on the promised wife of a friend, as Monthault did on Constantia, seemed to Eustace an implied commendation similar to that bestowed on a house, gardens, or any other beautiful and valuable possession, innocent in itself and flattering to the taste of the owner. He knew not that there existed such a character as a seducer, who could teach an unsuspecting mind to despise solemn engagements; he felt no tendency to treachery in his own heart. No one was more susceptible than he of the power of beauty, but he thought honour was the only means by which its favour could be won, and even his ardent passion for heroic fame derived an additional stimulus from his love to the amiable and innocent Constantia.

The circumstances of my narrative oblige me again to recur to the state of public affairs. The treaty of Uxbridge was now pending; the necessities of the King compelled him to enquire on what terms his subjects would sheath the sword, and the rapid ascendancy of the fanatic party in Parliament, added to the mutual accusations and recriminations of their generals, induced the moderate Presbyterians to try if, by reconciliation with their Sovereign, they could gain strength to oppose the power which openly threatened their destruction and his. The artifices of Cromwell and his adherents need not be minutely detailed in a work intended only to give an admonitory picture of those times. In one point those men differed from the majority of modern Reformers, or rather the manners of that age were different from ours. Religion was then the mode; men and women were in general expounders and preachers; ordinary conversation was interlarded with Scripture phrases; common events were providences; political misconstructions of the sacred story were prophecies; and a fluency of cant was inspiration. No man (to borrow one of their favourite terms) was more gifted this way than Cromwell; he had discerned the current of the public humour, and could adopt the disguise which suited his ambition. Every step which led him to the summit of power was prefaced by what he called seeking the Lord; that is, attending sermons and prayers, by which the suborned performers of those profane and solemn farces prepared their congregations to desire what their employers had previously determined to do; thus giving an air of divine inspiration to the projects of fraud, murder, and ambition. By such a perversion of public worship, joined with an affectation of disinterested purity, that celebrated preparative for military despotism, the self-denying ordinance was introduced into the Commons. After numerous prayers and sermons, intreating Providence to strengthen the hands of the faithful, by choosing new instruments to carry on the godly work, an agent of Cromwell's inferred, that the Lord had indeed prompted their counsels, and proposed that henceforth no peer or member of Parliament should hold any public office. By these means, every man of rank and eminence who had been distinguished by a constitutional struggle against arbitrary acts of power, and afterwards reluctantly led into open rebellion, was cashiered and dismissed from the army and from all official situations, which were thus left open to the fanatical party.