f the king's
presence of mind under the action of it, took place while the king was
at Newcastle. They took him one day to the chapel in the castle to
hear a Scotch Presbyterian who was preaching to the garrison. The
Scotchman preached a long discourse pointed expressly at the king.
Those preachers prided themselves on the fearlessness with which, on
such occasions, they discharged what they called their duty. To cap
the climax of his faithfulness, the preacher gave out, at the close
of the sermon, the hymn, thus: "We will sing the fifty-first Psalm:

"'Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself,
Thy wicked works to praise?'"

As the congregation were about to commence the singing, the king cast
his eye along the page, and found in the fifty-sixth hymn one which he
thought would be more appropriate. He rose, and said, in a very
audible manner, "We will sing the fifty-_sixth_ Psalm:

"'Have mercy, Lord, on me I pray,
For men would me devour.'"

The congregation, moved by a sudden impulse of religious generosity
extremely unusual in those days, immediately sang the psalm which the
king had chosen.

While he was at Holmby the king used sometimes to go, escorted by a
guard, to certain neighboring villages where there were
bowling-greens. One day, while he was going on one of these
excursions, a man, in the dress of a laborer, appeared standing on a
bridge as he passed, and handed him a packet. The commissioners who
had charge of Charles--for some of them always attended him on these
excursions--seized the man. The packet was from the queen. The king
told the commissioners that the letter was only to ask him some
question about the disposal of his son, the young prince, who was then
with her in Paris. They seemed satisfied, but they sent the disguised
messenger to London, and the Parliament committed him to prison, and
sent down word to dismiss all Charles's own attendants, and to keep
him thenceforth in more strict confinement.

In the mean time, the Parliament, having finished the war, were ready
to disband the army. But the army did not wish to be disbanded. They
would not be disbanded. The officers knew very well that if their
troops were dismissed, and they were to return to their homes as
private citizens, all their importance would be gone. There followed
long debates and negotiations between the army and the Parliament,
which ended, at last, in an open rupture. It is almost a