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Bradford, and other adjacent clothing towns, appear at this crisis to have acted an important part.
“I have hitherto supported this army by the loans and contributions, for the most part, of the parishes of Leeds, Halifax and Bradford, and some other small clothing towns adjacent, being the only well-affected people of the country, who, I much fear, may now suffer by this Popish army of the North, merely for their good affection to the religion and public liberty. Out of the rest of the country I was not able to draw any considerable help, the enemy having garrisons in so many places, who threatened to ruin any who should assist the Parliament and the cause with money or other helps."-1. 28, 29.
Having spoken of the Secretary, we must proceed to give a few particulars of his chief, whose correspondence forms the staple of these volumes.
Thomas Fairfax, the eldest son of Ferdinando (the second Lord Fairfax) and the Lady Mary, daughter of Lord Sheffield, was born at Denton, January 11, 1611. At the termination of his school education he entered at St. John's, Cambridge, a college to which he afterwards became a benefactor. The times were not favourable to the quiet of study, and notwithstanding his possession of talents and aptitude for learning, he left the university for the army, when little more than sixteen years of age. He served first in the Low Countries, under General Vere, Baron Tilbury, who felt a warm interest in the young soldier. He returned to England in 1637, and married the Lady Anne, daughter of the Countess Vere, whose husband was now deceased. “The Veres,” says the author of the Historical and Biographical Memoir prefixed to the first volume of the Correspondence, “were zealous Presbyterians, and his connections with the family inflamed that enthusiasm on the popular side which he had inherited from his father. He shewed so much eagerness to distinguish himself in the cause, that when Charles made his first attempt to raise a guard for his person at York, young Fairfax was commissioned by his party to present a petition to the King, imploring his Majesty to abandon his design of raising forces, and to listen to the wishes of the Parliament. "The King endeavoured to avoid the reception of this petition ; but Fairfax was resolved at all hazards to discharge the duty which had been entrusted him, and following his Majesty on horseback to Heworth Moor, he presented the petition on the pommel of his saddle, in the presence of nearly 100,000 people.”. When the civil war broke out, Sir Thomas (for he had been knighted in 1640) took a commission under his father, the General of the Horse. From this point commenced a brilliant career of victories, the recital of which would be nothing less than a summary of the great events of the war. So distinguished were his services, that in the thirty-fourth year of his age he superseded the Earl of Essex, and was appointed Generalissimo of the Parliamentary forces. He was twice severely wounded, -once at Helmesly Castle, and again at Pontefract Castle. “It was said of Lord Vere, his master in the art of war, that he was remarkable for doing great things with few men; and that Fairfax did great things with the loss of a few.” It is recorded to Lord Fairfax's honour, that when he took the city of Oxford, he shewed his love of learning and the institutions sacred to its cultivation by repressing the outrages of the soldiery. Through his exertions the Bodleian Library was protected from pillage. When the republican party proceeded to aim at the life of the King, Fairfax ceased to act with them. His name was placed at the head of the commission for the trial of the King; but he absented himself from all the proceedings therewith connected. Lady Fairfax, when his name was called out, exclaimed audibly, “ He has more wit than to be here.” He remained nominally, in command of the army till 1650, but his power was virtually at an end before this. He was succeeded by Oliver Cromwell, between whom and Fairfax there was little good-will. He retired to his estate in Yorkshire, and, in common with the bulk of the Presbyterian party, sighed for the return of the monarchy. He married his only daughter and child Mary to the Duke of Buckingham. In consideration of this distinguished marriage, Lord Fairfax cut off the entail of his estates, and in doing so fulfilled a prophecy of his grandfather, uttered shortly before his death, to Charles, a younger son. Speculating on what would become of his family when he was gone, he said, “I have added a title to the heir male of my house, and shall leave a competent estate to support it. Ferdinando will keep it and leave it to his son; but such is Tom's pride, led much by his wife, that he, not contented to live in our rank, will destroy his house."
The sequel of the story of the daughter of Lord Fairfax is, as the Editor observes, " miserable enough.”. During the life of her profligate husband, the leading spirit of the most profligate Court (that of Charles II.) that ever disgraced royalty, it may be well believed her wrongs and sufferings were unintermitted. She survived him; but so irretrievable was the ruin of his pecuniary affairs, that his helpless widow found the estate absorbed by fines and recoveries, and was driven to the last extremity to sustain herself. The hapless victim of her father's ambition and her husband's profligacy died in 1704, in the sixty-sixth year of her age.
To return to Lord Fairfax : he lived to see and to promote the Restoration. He spent the last years of his life at Nun Appleton, near York, in retirement and sickness, much given to the performance of religious duties and the reading of good books. He died, after a short sickness, of a fever, at Appleton, November 2, 1671.
In selecting passages for quotation from these volumes, we have first marked Rushworth's narrative of the tumult of the London apprentices in 1647, consequent on the vote of Parliament, July 20, dismissing Holles and ten other members for the space of six months. The narrative is much more graphic and more in detail than that of Waller, or that found in Whitlocke.
“To the Right Hon. Ferdinando, Lord Fairfax, at Denton, Yorkshire. “Upon Thursday last we marched from Reading to Aylesbury, and staid there all Friday, and came to Bedford on Saturday last. The cause of our marching this way was the confidence we had in the Parliament and city, both the Houses of Parliament having voted the militia of London into those hands it was formerly. But upon Friday last, there being a Common Council, petitions were delivered to several hands, that the militia might continue in the hands of the malignant party (as we call them); and there was then set on foot several petitions, as also a solemn vow and engagement, in the nature of the Scots' Covenant Oath, mutually to assist one another that subscribed it to bring home the King, &c., as you will see it in print. The Commons declared against this, and that they should be proceeded against as traitors, that proceeded therein. The Lords concurred also. It was sent to the well-affected militia, who were newly re-invested, with power to proclaim it; but they durst not do it. The Lord Mayor refused to give his assistance. The people threatened to tear any that should attempt the publishing of it. The Common Council
then sitting, being Saturday night, the multitude cried to have them up to the House that night with a petition for the malignant militia to continue. The House being up, all businesses were put off until Monday, July 26th. The House was no sooner set that day, but up came the Common Council with a petition as aforesaid, for the malignant militia to stand ; and there followed apprentices, seamen, reformadoes, malignants and tag-rag, flocking in abundance to the Houses. The Lords first gave the answer to the Common Council, that they did adhere to their ordinance lately passed concerning the militia, and also to their declaration against those who should proceed in the new Oath and Covenant. The apprentices and the rest of the rude multitude, understanding this, they broke into the House of Lords, and told them that they should either recall both the said ordinances and declaration, or they should
And one of the boldest, standing up at the bar, said, Where is Manchester ? We must call him to an account. The House replied he was gone down ; and so, with fair words, they got them to be quiet, until they had passed the votes for recalling both the said ordinance and declaration. Thereupon the multitude departed, and the Lords adjourned until Friday next; and
never come out.
they thought themselves well that they got so away. Then down came the multitude to the Commons, about two of the clock, and they having the like answer to the Common Council which the Lords had done, the multitude told them that they must pass what the Lords had done. But the Commons were stout, and put off till four, five, six, seven of the clock. Messenger after messenger was sent to the militia, to the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, to come down with the posse of the city, to rescue the House and relieve them. The militia strired not, and the Lord Mayor would not come. The Sheriffs came in person with some forty halberdiers, which was all the militia of the city that appeared for the Parliament.
# The guards that were there stood still and suffered the House to be thus abused, and let the scout-master General Watson be seized upon by the tumult and afterwards carried to prison in the city, where he now is in custody; the servants of some of the army were abused by pulling them by the ears and noses, and so leading them up and down, and saying, “These are the Independents. The Sheriffs coming and making this show to little purpose, the Commons' hearts began to fail them for want of relief, and the apprentices grow more bold, and broke into the House of Commons and told them they must pass what the Lords had passed, or should not stir out of the House. Towards eight of the clock, the Commons passed the votes to recall the declaration and ordinance for the late alteration of the militia. When this was done and the House adjourned, the Speaker being out of the chair, many of the multitude went again into the House and thrust the Speaker back and the rest of the members, and told them he must go to the chair again and pass another vote, or else they would not go away; thereupon the Speaker was glad to take the chair and the question was put that they held it fit the King should presently be brought up to London, and to which there was an answer given by some of the members, with the help of the tumult who stood by the table till the Clerk wrote down the order and gave them it under his hand. This unparalleled action is such as indeed we may dread what the event is like to be. The House of Commons adjourned, and was no less joyful of their liberty than the Lords were," &c.—Bedford, Tuesday, July 27, 1647.—Pp. 379-388. Rushworth
say that "the King is at Woburn, not much troubled at these news," and adds, “We must not suffer the Parliament to be thus enslaved, nor the kingdom destroyed." These things decided Fairfax, and he marched into London on the 6th of August.
The alliance of the hapless Mary Fairfax brings the celebrated Duke of Buckingham into these volumes. His reckless life destroyed his own magnificent estate, which he valued at £30,000 per annum, and the estates which had been the portion of his amiable Duchess. It was probably her influence (for there were times when, sated with wickedness, he found pleasure in the society of his virtuous but not lovely wife) that made him a kind protector to the persecuted Presbyterians of Yorkshire, of which county he was the LordLieutenant. In 1675, he pleaded in the House of Lords for religious liberty, alleging that “ persecution was a very gross mistake,” both as related to government and religion. Protestant Dissenters, remembering this, must be permitted to differ from the poet who declared Buckingham
“Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong." In the letter which, after his disgrace, he wrote to Charles II., he describes his whole estate as mortgaged, and pleaded for the poor privilege of selling the freehold to pay his debts. He died April 16, 1687, in the 60th year of his age. The circumstances of his death were grossly exaggerated by Pope in the well-known lines
“In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung,
His death was occasioned by a fever, which he caught by sitting on the damp grass at Kirby Moorside, in Yorkshire, when heated by the chase. His last days were passed at the house of his steward there. In the following extract from a letter written by Mr. John Gibson to Brian Fairfax, we have some particulars of his death. The letter is dated nearly twenty years after the event described, viz. Feb. 27, 1707 :
“As it fell to my share to know as much of the last moments of the late Duke of Buckingham as any then about him, so, at your instance, I shall readily give answer to satisfy any that he died in the best house in Kirkby Moorside (which neither is nor ever was an ale-house); and that when he was moved to receive the sacrament, he consented to it, and received it from the hands of the minister of the parish, with great decency and seeming devotion; while we, who received with him, were somewhat doubtful of his swallowing the bread, because of his weakness and pain. Hence we had reason to conclude he had died in the communion of the Church of England, and none about him at that time ever questioned it that I heard of. Indeed, my Lord of Arran (who was then there) could not be prevailed with to communicate with his Grace and us. Lord's reasons were for that unwillingness, I know not; but my Lord (now Duke of Hamilton) is a witness of the truth of his Grace's thus receiving, his Lordship being (if I am not much mistaken) in the room then.
“I omit at present many particulars which I could give some account of, as to making his will, his naming his heir, &c., which his Grace would not be persuaded to. If you please to command any further account of the very last passages of his life, the respect and honour I had from him and for him, engage me to answer you, in favour of his memory. I had not the honour to converse with him any long time before his dying days; but so far as I ever had any discourse with his Grace, he was always pleased to express a love for good men and good things, how little able soever he was to live up to what he knew.”—II. 268, 269.
The unhappy Mary Fairfax survived the Duke nearly twenty years. Some of her letters are given. They relate to matters of business, and shew her full of pecuniary anxiety and trouble. In announcing her death, Mr. Charles Fairfax, then a student of Christ Church, Oxford, says, “ She was an example of virtue and piety in a vicious age and a debauched Court; and in all her pains and sickness, of great patience and Christian courage."--II. 240.
We shall probably return to these volumes, to cull a few more illustrations of biography and history.
Lectures on the Development of Religious Life in the Modern Christian
Church. Part IV. By Henry Solly. London-Mudie. The subject of this lecture is the personal history and religious system of John Wesley. In his survey of Methodism, Mr. Solly is candid and liberal in the expression of praise, and yet distinctly marks his own divergence, and the reasons for it, from Wesley's creed and discipline. The lecture is more simple in its style than the previous discourses, and this we think an improvement.
The great defect of Methodism seems to us to be, that for its successful working it requires constantly a John Wesley. It was admirably suited to his powers.
He has never had a suitable successor. In the hands of little and mean men, Methodism becomes an oppressive engine of priestcraft. The quotation which we add points to this thought.
“The evil of errors held by great reformers is often diminished by the living earnestness and truthfulness with which these reformers preach them. But the case is widely different when those great men pass away, and leave only a servile herd of copyists, who tread, generation after generation, in their leaders' steps; when class-leaders, lay preachers, travelling preachers, and all who believe themselves specially favoured by God, the true elect,' become filled with arrogance, prejudice and spiritual pride'; when the progress of education enlarges men's minds and elevates their tastes and feelings; when the opposite errors no longer need a violent remedy.”—P. 197.
PERIODICALS. The North-British Review, No. XXI., May.—The bill of fare is various and tempting: In the first article Mr. Morell's Philosophy of Religion is discussed, and little does the reviewer find to commend in it,-sometimes objecting to the author that he has been amongst the Socinians, then confuting his exaltation of intuitions above reason in religion, and finally hinting that there is a startling parallelism between Mr. Morell's Philosophy
and Mr. Newman's views of Development. We pass over an article on Poetry to reach one on Ragged Schools, which is written in an earnest and fine catholic spirit. The article is a review of Rev. Thomas Guthrie's Second Plea for Ragged Schools. We must indulge ourselves with a pretty long extract both from the review and the book reviewed. The subject is John Pounds.
"John Pounds, the Founder of Ragged Schools, was the son of a workman employed in the Royal Dockyards at Portsmouth, and was born in that town in 1766. At the age of fifteen, he met with an accident which crippled him for life. A cobbler by trade, he spent the greater part of his benevolent career in a small workshop, measuring some six feet by eighteen, in St. Mary Street, Portsmouth, where he might be seen day after day seated on his stool, mending shoes, and attending at the same time to the studies of a busy crowd of ragged children clustering around him. In addition to mental instruction, he gave these children industrial training, and taught them to cook their own victuals and mend their own shoes. He was unusually fond of all kinds of birds and domestic animals, and amused himself with rearing singing-birds, jays and parrots, which he trained to live harmoniously with his cats and guinea-pigs. Sometimes he might be seen seated in the midst of his school, with a canary bird perched on one shoulder and a cat on the other. But he was too poor to be able long to indulge in all his benevolent fancies. When his scholars became numerous, he gave up his cats and canary birds, and devoted the latter part of his life exclusively to the more intellectual employment of taming and subduing the 'wild Arabs of the city.' How applicable to him the immortal lines of Coleridge !
“He prayeth well, who loveth well
All things, both great and small;
Both man and bird and beast;
He made and loveth all.' “The candidates for admission to John Pounds' school were always very numerous; but he invariably gave preference to the worst as well as poorest children-to the little blackguards,' as he called them. He used to follow them to the quay, and offer them the bribe of a roasted potatoe if they would come to his school. Well was he repaid for his unwearied labours by the love and affection which these children bore to him! It is said that John Pounds' ragged school had the following origin :-In early life he adopted a young nephew of his own, whom he thought he could educate better with a companion than alone, and he accordingly enlisted in his service the son of a poor woman.
Then another and another child was added, until at last he had collected around him a large school of boys and girls. Poor as he was, he established his nephew comfortably in the world, and during the latter years of his life he had no less than forty scholars. He died on the ist of January, 1839, aged seventy-two. There was much weeping and shedding of tears at Portsmouth. The children had lost at once their father and best friend and most amusing playfellow,- Portsmouth had lost one of her noblest ornaments,-England one of her most illustrious patriots. ** How beautiful is the following tribute to his memory!
"Were we' (says Mr. Guthrie, in his Second Plea for Ragged Schools) 'to make a pilgrimage any where, as soon as to the lowly heath where the martyr reposes, we would direct our pilgrim steps to the busy streets of Portsmouth, and, turning aside from the proud array of England's floating bulwarks, we would seek out the humble shop where John Pounds achieved his works of mercy and earned an imperishable fame. There is no poetry in his name, and none in his profession ; but there was more than poetry, the highest, noblest piety,