and
saw too gloomy a prospect before him, to be indifferent to the subject;
but, though he was now prepared to make sacrifices, from which but two
years before he would have recoiled with horror, he had still resolved
never to subscribe to conditions irreconcilable with his honour and
conscience; and in this temper of

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, ii. 482, 513, 554.]

mind he was confirmed by the frequent letters of Henrietta from Paris, who
reminded him of the infamy which he would entail on himself, were he, as
he was daily advised, to betray to the vengeance of the parliament the
Protestant bishops and Catholic royalists, who, trusting to his word,
had ventured their all for his interest.[1] He had now assembled _his_
parliament for the second time; but the attendance of the members was
scarce, and the inconvenience greater than the benefit. Motions were made
ungrateful to the feelings, and opposed to the real views of the king, who,
to free himself from the more obtrusive and importunate of these advisers,
sent them

[Footnote 1: This is the inference which I have drawn from a careful
perusal of the correspondence between Charles and the queen in his Works,
p. 142-150. Some writers have come to a different conclusion: that he
was insincere, and under the pretence of seeking peace, was in reality
determined to continue the war. That he prepared for the resumption of
hostilities is indeed true, but the reason which he gives to the queen is
satisfactory, "the improbability that this present treaty should produce
a peace, considering the great strange difference (if not contrariety) of
grounds that are betwixt the rebels' propositions and mine, and that I
cannot alter mine, nor will they ever theirs, until they be out of the hope
to prevail by force" (p. 146). Nor do I see any proof that Charles was
governed, as is pretended, by the queen. He certainly took his resolutions
without consulting her, and, if she sometimes expressed her opinion
respecting them, it was no more than any other woman in a similar situation
would have done. "I have nothing to say, but that you have a care of your
honour; and that, if you have a peace, it may be such as may hold; and if
it fall out otherwise, that you do not abandon those who have served you,
for fear they do forsake you in your need. Also I do not see how you can
be in safety without a regiment of guard; for myself, I think I cannot be,
seeing the malice which they have against me a