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448 the bulk of that country in his vast plans of aggrandisement, but also make himself master of Spain in case of the death of the young Spanish king. The pretended desire of Charles to adopt open popery was merely a feint to secure the French king's money, and the next question which he raised was, whether he should avow himself before the rupture with Holland or afterwards. The duke of York was in earnest, Charles was only playing with the catholic scheme as a bait; and he afterwards told his sister, the duchess of Orleans, at Dover, that "he was not so well satisfied with the catholic religion, or his own condition, as to make it his faith." Lord Arundel and Sir Richard Billings were sent to Paris to secure the promised cash, and to keep up the farce of his conversion.

Whilst these infamous negotiations were going on, Buckingham was exerting himself to ruin the duke of York's prospects of the succession. He observed the king's fondness for his natural son by Lucy Walters, who had borne the name of Crofts, and he caught at the idea of Charles legitimating him. Charles had created him duke of Monmouth, and married him to the wealthy heiress of Buccleuch. Buckingham asked the king why not acknowledge a private marriage with his mother, and suggested that plenty of witnesses might be found to swear to it; but the answer of Charles destroyed this vision, who declared that he would see the lad hanged sooner than own him as his legitimate son. Buckingham, still not disconcerted, proposed an absurd scheme of carrying the queen privately to the plantations, where she would never more be heard of; and next a divorce from her on account of her barrenness, and a second marriage. Bishop Burnet, afterwards of Sarum, had decided that such cause was sufficient for divorce, and that it only wanted an act of parliament authorising the divorced parties to marry again. Charles listened sufficiently to cause them to attempt such an act. It was sought for in the case of lord Roos, whose wife was living in open adultery; but it was soon rumoured what was the ultimate object of it. The duke of York, therefore, opposed the bill with all his might, and Charles supported it with equal ardour, even taking his seat on the throne of the lords whilst it was discussed, to encourage his party. The bill was carried, and the right to marry again has always since then been recognised in bills of divorce; but Charles again disappointed Buckingham, for he showed no desire to make use of it in his own case. In fact, the temptation was gone by; the fair Stewart, that he wished to marry, was become the wife of Richmond.

Charles obtained from parliament considerable supplies in the spring session of 1670, for his consent to the renewal of the conventicle act, and the fury of persecution was let loose against the nonconformists. Spies and informers were everywhere, and many of the dissenters, to save their property, and their persons from prison, were fain to forego their usual assembling for worship in their chapels. The Society of Friends, however, scorned to concede even in appearance to this religious intolerance. They persisted in meeting as usual. They were dragged thence before magistrates, and on refusing to pay the fines were thrust into prison. No sooner were they liberated, however, than they returned, as usual, to their meetings, and when the doors were locked against them, assembled in the street, and held their meetings there. On one of these occasions, William Penn, son of admiral Penn, and afterwards the celebrated founder of Pennsylvania, was taken with William Mead, another minister of the society, at an open air meeting in Gracechurch Street. They were thrust into Newgate, and brought to trial before the recorder of London, one John Howell, and the lord mayor, Samuel Starling. This trial forms one of the most brilliant facts in the history of the independence of trial by jury, and has, in consequence, often been reprinted. Both Penn and Mead made noble defences, and terribly puzzled the recorder as to the law of the case. They demanded to know on what law the indictment was based. The recorder replied the "common law." They begged to be shown it. On this he flew into a passion, and asked them if they thought he carried the common law on his back. That it was founded on hundreds of adjudged cases, and that some of the ablest lawyers could scarcely tell what it was. Penn replied that if it was so difficult to produce, it could not be common law. He still pressed for this law, and the recorder replied, "It is lex non scripta, that which many have studied thirty or forty years to know, and would you have me tell you in a moment?" "Certainly," replied Penn, "if the common law be so hard to be understood, it is far from being common." And he proceeded to tell them what the law was, and how the rights of prisoners were secured by the acts of Henry III. and Edwards I. and III. On this the court became furious, and the lord mayor said, "My lord, if you take not some course with this pestilent fellow, to stop his mouth, we shall not be able to do anything to-night."

This was the style of treatment throughout the trial, but the prisoners stood firm, and were therefore taken away and thrust into the bail-dock whilst the recorder charged the jury. But as the prisoners could catch what he was saying, which was most grossly false, Penn shouted out that it was contrary to all law to charge the jury in the absence of the prisoners. He then told the jury that they were his judges, and that they could not return a verdict till they were fully heard. The recorder shouted, "Pull that fellow down, pull him down." Under such circumstances of violence, violence only too common in those days, the jury proceeded to bring in their verdict, which was, "Guilty of speaking in Gracechurch Street." "And is that all?" exclaimed the lord mayor. "You mean guilty of speaking to a tumultuous assembly." The foreman replied, "My lord, that is all that I have in commission." In a fury, and with much brow-beating, the jury were sent back to amend their verdict, but when again called into court, they brought it in writing, with all their signatures, only strengthening it by adding, "or preaching to an assembly." As that was no crime, the court in a rage ordered the jury to be shut up all night without meat, drink, fire, candle, tobacco, or any of the most necessary accommodations. Penn enjoined them to stand firm, and not give away their right, and one of them, named Edward Bushell, declared they never would. When brought up the next day, the jury declared they had no other verdict. This infuriated the mayor and recorder beyond their patience, and they vowed they would have a verdict out of them, or they should starve for it. Bushell replied they had acted according to their conscience,