His advice being neglected, he had no choice but to comply, unless he were prepared to pronounce against the Rump and the Council. He received their positive commands to attack the defences of the City on the following morning. Retiring to an inn, he was there met by the few in whom it could in any sense be said that he confided. The dead hours of night, after the Council had broken up, were thus consumed. Monk strode up and down the room, chewing his tobacco, and scarcely listening to the arguments of his friends. They represented to him that he was lost if he assailed the City. Monk's curt reply, that he could do no less by the duties of his office, unless he were prepared to join in the declaration of the City, and immediately create a struggle between himself and the Parliament, was unanswerable. The morning came, and the work began. Monk ordered his troops to break down the chains and portcullises which bounded the privileges of the City. The corporation deemed it prudent to adopt a policy of conciliarion, and they resolved to invite to a public dinner the invader of their ancient liberties. It naturally struck the wily general that he would make a ridiculous figure, in first assailing the corporation, and then accepting their hospitality. No sooner had he declined the invitation, than the Council of State (apparently viewing the refusal as an example, for that age, of a high degree of political morality) voted him an indemnity of fifty pounds for the loss of his dinner! But this political morality did not go quite so far as to prevent his acceptance of the more solid indemnity. Was Monk more avaricious or epicurean? No doubt the hospitable corporation were as celebrated for their good dinners in those days as in these. M. Guizot supposes that the Council acted upon a knowledge of the general's avarice: but unless the epicurean temptation had already been very great, one would think that the self-denial would hardly represent the compensation. ive interference. Monk was absolutely in imminent danger of arrest. "The rage and consternation of the Parliament," says M. Guizot, "exceeded all belief." They still, however, truckled to the man who was now beyond their power; and were guilty at once of the meanness and impolicy of proceeding against Vane and Lambert, (the only men in any degree capable of defending them,) with the view of pleasing the Lord General of the Commonwealth. The demonstrations of joy in the metropolis were unequivocal. The bells of every church in London rang. Bonfires were lighted at night in all directions; and Samuel Pepys asserts that he could count not less than thirty-one blazing simultaneously from the same point of view. Cries of "Down with the Rump!" resounded in all quarters. The secluded members reäppeared, and were admitted. The full Parliament, losing in its last existence its former designation, appointed Monk General-in-chief, dissolving the military commission under which his powers over the army had been shared by four others. The principle of the Restoration had now triumphed. But it is singular to observe in the Clarendon State Papers, that the strongest doubt of Monk's intentions was, even up to that period, entertained by the royalists abroad. Monk now took up his quarters in St. Two days afterwards Monk began to James's Palace, and became virtually a see the verification of the predictions made military dictator. A new Council of State, by his friends as he had chewed his tobac- twenty-nine in number, and entertaining co on the night preceding the attack, and views favorable to the Restoration, nomito find himself on the verge of ruin. The nally formed the supreme executive in the whole mass of the country, who had even interval between the dissolution which had then suspected him to be disposed in favor taken place in the middle of March, and of the Restoration, stood aloof from him. the convention of the new Parliament. His troops were universally disaffected: Monk had been offered the use of Hampmany of his leading officers threatened act-ton Court Palace; he caused it, however, to be known that he would prefer a grant and it could contain no invitation to dinof money to the grant of a palace, and re- ner in coming from an exile. The continceived £20,000 as a reward for his refusal. gent witness was then called in. Monk's Of this £13,000 was paid down at once. indignation rapidly evaporated: he openWhen, therefore, we consider that the ed and read the letter. Finally, he assurState was a moment before so impoverished Sir John "that the restoration of the ed as to have with the greatest difficulty extorted a loan of £60,000 for the urgent purpose of paying a starved and beggared army, it would be difficult to conceive a misappropriation more conclusive against the public morality of Monk, than his becoming possessed of nearly one fourth of this sum. There is no sufficient evidence to sustain M. Guizot's position, that the leading republicans at this juncture offered the regal dignity to Monk. In vague terms, indeed, they proposed to invest him with "the supreme power;" but we are not warranted in supposing this offer to imply anything more than a re-creation of the Protectorate in his favor. The proposal, however, let it have been what it may, was immediately refused by Monk. The truth was that the republicans saw that the current of the Restoration had set in that it would flow while Monk continued to direct its course-and that nothing but the deviation of the general from the line of policy he was pursuing could save the revolutionary cause. Government, it was clear, must be administered either by Monk or by Charles II., and there can be little doubt that the republicans, in choosing the soldier, chose also the polity of the Revolution. The secret negotiations between Monk and Charles II., which arise at this point, are, however, very curious, and are admirably developed by M. Guizot. Sir John Greenville, a relation of the former, had been employed by Charles to treat for him at St. James's Palace. Sir John experienced great difficulty, at first, in obtaining a private audience of the general, who was keenly alive to the danger of positive negotiation. Monk had a trusty friend in Morrice, to whom he at first referred the envoy. At length he consented to an interview, adopting the precaution of keeping Morrice outside the door as a contingent witness. Greenville then presented the king's letter. Monk affected to draw back in virtuous indignation and astonishment at such an insult to a faithful leader of the Commonwealth. To be sure the letter could contain no money in coming from a penniless fortune-seeker, sovereign had been the first wish of his heart, but that until now no opportunity had presented itself," &c. The conditions of the Restoration were then drawn up; and while the Republican chiefs were disputing upon narrow questions between themselves, Monk and Sir John Greenville were quietly selling away the birthright of the Commonwealth. The general, however, would not permit the envoy to carry away any documentary evidence of his treason. He compelled Greenville to commit the stipulations to memory, and finally to burn the papers. Greenville was then dispatched to Brussels. Under the roof of Hyde-afterwards Lord Chancellor Clarendon-he secretly meets the king in that city at midnight. Charles, by the advice of Monk, as secretly removes to Breda, whence, in consequence, was dated the celebrated declaration. Meanwhile, several counter-schemes were afloat. One of these was that of the Presbyterian leaders, who, acknowledging the Restoration as an inevitable event, hastened to impose their own terms upon the sovereign. They were more honest than Monk, but their conditions were altogether incompatible, as M. Guizot observes, with the royal dignity. Among other things, they demanded an acknowledgment of the legitimacy of the war against Charles I. That the heir to the throne would readily have accepted, with hereditary faithlessness, any conditions that might have proved essential to his return, we cannot doubt. But the truth was, that the Presbyterians were a day after the fair. Charles had already obtained far bet ter terms from Monk, who cared exceedingly little for raising a question of right as to the legality of past events, so long as his own pocket was well replenished, and his own dignity not to be included in the compromise. The Presbyterians appear to have entertained another object, in undermining the influence of Hyde, who was a rigid Episcopalian by inherent principle, as well as by the policy of his position. In treating directly with the king, they hoped to dissever the confidence subsisting between him and his prime adviser; and there was no doubt that Charles would prefer Presbyterianism and a crown, to hierarchy and exile. The plot thickened. Cardinal Mazarin, still at the head of the French Government, and aware that the Restoration was about to come to pass, was anxious to secure the alliance of that heir of the house of Stuart whom he had treated for the last eleven years with signal neglect. The French Court used every endeavor to induce Charles to make his debarkation from their shores. They also were too late. Charles was already at Breda, and, confiding in Monk, determined to sail from the Dutch coast. The current of the Restoration, indeed, was momentarily disturbed. Lambert now escaped from the Tower, and raised the standard of insurrection in the heart of the country. He was quickly subdued, partly by desertion and partly by the force of Ingoldsby; but there appears every reason to believe the assertion of Monk, that had the event been reversed, he would himself have immediately raised the standard of the Stuarts, and have finally settled the question by a brief and decisive civil war. Now follows the difficulty as to the publication of Sir John Greenville's mission. This was surmounted, it must be confessed, by a preconcerted acting, characterized by no ordinary skill. On the 27th of April, while Monk was with the assembled Council of State, Sir John Greenville applied at the door for permission to deliver a sealed packet to the general. Monk came out of the Council Chamber, and in a conspicuous manner received the packet, emblazoned with the king's arms, in the presence of his guards. Monk again drew back in astonishment, and pointing to the royal arms, sternly ordered the soldiers not to lose sight of the bearer. What evidence more striking of the fidelity of the republican chief? Monk then carried the packet to the Council. They required that Greenville should appear before them. Greenville stated that the inclosed letters were from the king at Breda. The Council voted that Parliament alone was competent to open the packet, and proposed meanwhile to put the envoy under arrest. This was hazardous to Monk, and he at length prevailed upon them to place Greenville at large, on the surety of the Lord General being given for his appearance. This solemn farce concluded, Greenville went to the Houses of Lords and Commons on the 1st of May, presenting a royal letter to either assembly. He was the bearer of a third letter, designed for the City of London. Each of these bodies received him with formality and favor, and a copy of the famous "Declaration from Breda" accompanied either communication. Letters also were inclosed for the General, Monk, and the Admiral, Montague. The two Houses of Parliament immediately voted "that, according to the fundamental laws of this kingdom, the Government is and ought to be by king, lords, and commons." The manœuvre of Monk had admirably succeeded. The Restoration, of course, was now accomplished; but the poverty of the State was ill adapted to sustain the liberal tendencies of the Parliament. The House of Commons voted £500 to Sir John Greenville, and subsequently not less than £50,000 for the use of the king. So disproportionate was this munificence to the revenues at command, that the Treasury was unable to pay even the £500 which had been voted to the king's envoy. This sum was eventually advanced by a Mr. Forth, who was regarded as the Rothschild of the age. The City of London, however, now came forward with its wonted liberality. It lent £100,000 for the support of the army, and £30,000 for the use of the king. Each of the chief trading corporations, to the number of twelve, presented Charles with £1000. So desperate, however, were the circumstances of the republicans, that while the Speakers of the Lords and Commons were solemnly proclaiming the king at Whitehall, a final effort was made (such as desperation only could have suggested) for the restoration of Richard Cromwell. The Bill of Indemnity and its circumstances are well known. While this was transpiring in England, all the Continental courts were paying their fulsome adulations to Charles at Breda. Charles had been peculiarly sensitive, as the grandson of Henri IV., to the slight which he had received from the French court; and all the artifices with which Cardinal Mazarin sought to ingratiate himself into the king's favor proved ineffectual. The foreign ministers were claiming international aliiances, and the great men and the little men, now in a state of transition from English republicans to English monarch ists, were simultaneously seeking places of the king at Breda. It is impossible to conclude the present review of M. Guizot's work without referring to two characters, who, while they stood aloof from the busy world of party politics, stood also in proud contrast to the turpitude and hypocrisy of the day. We allude, of course, to John Milton and Sir Matthew Hale. The great poet, indeed, had espoused the cause of the Cromwellian party; but it may be questioned whether he was more deeply compromised towards the republicans than many others whom that body had been ready to receive again among their supporters. To the last he remained an unflinching advocate of liberty of conscience, and of a government without monarchy. Even the defender of the regicides, amid the political profligacy of that age, might have found favor with the sovereign, if he would; and the king would have been by no means indifferent to the views of a literary defender of the talents and eminence which he commanded. Sir Matthew Hale, with a yet fairer fame, had withstood the tyranny of Cromwell and the tyranny of the Long Parliament; and he now exerted his influence to obtain from the king such conditions as should combine liberty with order. The present subject, though happily its application to the politics of our country has long since passed away, is yet replete with interest and with warnings to the Continental Governments. It tells us, first, in the reluctance with which the liberal party went to war, the high moral value of a prescriptive constitution. It tells us, next, how the despotism which pays no regard to popular demands, in an ad vanced stage of civilization, must ultimately destroy that constitution. We learn, from it, also, how signal was the difficulty experienced in framing a written in place of a prescriptive government; and how the attempt produced another despotism, conceding indeed civil rights, but suppressing political privileges, and maintaining itself by the anomaly of a self-constituted system established neither by legal nor by popular sanction, and existing in virtue of military force. Such was the Government of the first Protector. We find, next, the failure of an effort to combine usurpation with a revival of the prescriptive estates of Lords and Commons. Then, we pass to a period of a year consumed by a calendar of revolutions. Finally, we enter upon a period in which prescription and revolution were combined, and the freedom of the people (although this was not fully accomplished until after another revolution) rendered coincident with the rights of monarchy. If there is one practical lesson to be deduced from this fearful history, it rests in the union of the regal and the popular interest-in the fact that monarchy is to be preserved, during a period of enlightenment, by freedom alone, and that the rights of society are to be secured only by the maintenance of an ancient polity. On this mutual confidence, this common dependence, this reciprocal moderation, the interests of social progress and of social civilization are essentially based. That this foundation will prove immovable in England is as certain, as our trust is strong that it will supply the model to which the other monarchical Governments of Europe may even yet be assimilated by their rulers. WEIGHING MACHINE AT THE GENERAL POST-OFFICE.-By order of the Board of Works, several men have been employed at the General Post-office in St. Martin'sle-Grand, in digging up the soil to a considerable depth opposite the superintendent's office, on the north side of the department, for the purpose of fixing a gigantic weighing-machine, upon an entirely new principle. The object of this extensive work is to enable the Post-office authorities to weigh en masse the letters and newspapers sent daily from the office to the provinces, a work now done in detail, at much cost of time and labor to the duty. From the Leisure Hour. IS HE REALLY DEAD? son is not really dead, and the other asserting that upon that point there is no room even for a doubt. How complete and absolute either side | versy-one side contending that this perof a case appears till the opposite one is heard. A visit to any of our law-courts will illustrate this. The story of the plaintiff is usually so finished in all its details as to appear at the first glance impregnable; and persons who hear it are inclined to ask, "What answer can it be possible to make to this?"-and to regret that the defendant or his counsel should take the trouble to reply to what appears so self-evident. It is difficult to believe, after the high-sounding opening speech of the plaintiff's counsel, and the testimony of his witnesses, that there can be a single flaw in the case, or a chance left even for the defendant to speak. But pause a moment, and see how confidently "the learned gentleman on the other side" glides into the case under discussion, and observe how speedily he gives a different complexion to the whole matter how his witness es knock down the airy structure of the plaintiff; and amazement sits on our brow when, at the end of the trial, we are obliged to depart from our too hastily formed opinion, because we find the defendant to have the best of the case, and see him walking smilingly out of court, the verdict being in his favor. Every day we have the opportunity of hearing, or at least of reading, such cases. There is scarcely a point promulgated in art, science, literature, or law, in which there is not occasion for the use of the old proverb about "doctors differ," which we recently illustrated; and often enough are there cases still more noteworthy than the Torbanehill controversy, or the recent affair of poisoning by strychnia. The following brief summary of the facts of the suicide, and the reasons assigned for denying it, will put the reader in possession of the whole details. On the morning of Sunday the 18th of February last, the dead body of a man was found at a considerable distance from the public road on Hampstead Heath. A silver cream-jug, and a large bottle, labelled "Essential Oil of Almonds," were found by the side of the corpse. The body was quite cold, and the rigor mortis perfectly established. It was speedily removed to the workhouse, where it was seen by a medical man a few minutes afterwards. There were found near to, or on the person of the deceased, six sovereigns, two half-sovereigns, a five-pound-note, twelve shillings and sixpence in silver, some coppers, a white cambric pocket-handkerchief, a small pocket paper-knife, a latch-key, a pair of gloves, a case containing two razors, and a piece of paper on which was written his name and address. As is usual in all such cases, an inquest was held upon the body. In addition to the coroner for the interest of the crown, it was attended by a coroner to watch the proceedings in the interest of the family of the deceased; and, according to the report in the Times newspaper, the jury having proceeded to the dead-house, the following facts were educed: 1. The butler of the deceased identified the body as being that of his master, and stated that he must have left the house Having thus premised, we proceed with- between half-past eleven, when he saw him out further preface to an illustrative cir- last, and a quarter to one, when he procumstance. So lately as February last, an ceeded to fasten the door. He also stated instance of suicide occurred, which, from that his master had taken with him a the position of the deceased, and from heavy great-coat, which "he seldom wore." matters that came out afterwards, attract- 2. A laboring man deposed to finding ed very great attention, and which has the deceased "lying on his back, with his since given rise to a very curious contro-head bent backwards against a furze-bush, |