uted.
All the various sects of the Protestants were odious and ridiculous in
the eyes of the king. They were regarded as hostile in their
sympathies, and treasonable in their designs. They were fined,
imprisoned, mutilated, and whipped. An Act of Uniformity was passed,
which restored the old penal laws of Elizabeth, and which subjected
all to their penalty who did not use the Book of Common Prayer, and
adhere strictly to the ritual of the Church of England. The
oligarchical power of the bishops was restored, and two thousand
ministers were driven from their livings, and compelled to seek a
precarious support. Many other acts of flagrant injustice were passed
by a subservient parliament, and cruelly carried into execution by
unfeeling judges. But the religious persecution of dissenters was not
consummated until the reign of James under whose favor or direction
the inhuman Jeffreys inflicted the most atrocious crimes which have
ever been committed under the sanction of the law. But these will be
more appropriately noticed under the reign of James II. Charles was
not so cruel in his temper, or bigoted in his sentiments, as his
brother James. He was rather a Gallio than a persecutor. He would
permit any thing rather than suffer himself to be interrupted in his
pleasures. He was governed by his favorites and his women. He had not
sufficient moral elevation to be earnest in any thing, even to be a
bigot in religion. He vacillated between the infidelity of Hobbes and
the superstitions of Rome. He lived a scoffer, and died a Catholic.
His temper was easy, but so easy as not to prevent the persecution and
ruin of his best supporters, when they had become odious to the
nation. If he was incapable of enmity, he was also incapable of
friendship. If he hated no one with long-continued malignity, it was
only because it was too much trouble to hate perseveringly. But he
loved with no more constancy than he hated. He had no patriotism, and
no appreciation of moral excellence. He would rather see half of the
merchants of London ruined, and half of the Dissenters immured in
gloomy prisons, than lose two hours of inglorious dalliance with one
of his numerous concubines. A more contemptible prince never sat on
the English throne, or one whose whole reign was disgraced by a more
constant succession of political blunders and social crimes. And yet
he never fully lost his popularity, nor was his reign felt to be as
burdensome as was that of t