surety for good behaviour, and making submission; that Eliot, as the greatest offender and ringleader, should be fined in £2000, Holles and Valentine to a smaller amount.[5]

Eliot, the most distinguished leader of the popular party, died in the tower without yielding to the submission required. In the long parliament, the commons came to several votes on the illegality of all these proceedings, both as to the delay in granting their habeas corpus, and the overruling their plea to the jurisdiction of the King's Bench. But the subject was revived again in a more distant and more tranquil period. In the year 1667, the Commons resolved that the act of 4 H. VIII. concerning Strode was a general law, "extending to indemnify all and every the members of both houses of parliament, in all parliaments, for and touching any bills, speaking, reasoning or declaring of any matter or matters, in and concerning the parliament to be communed and treated of, and is a declaratory law of the ancient and necessary rights and privileges of parliament." They resolved also that the judgment given 5 Car. I. against Sir John Eliot, Denzil Holles, and Benjamin Valentine, is an illegal judgment, and against the freedom and privilege of parliament. To these resolutions the Lords gave their concurrence. And Holles, then become a peer, having brought the record of the King's Bench by writ of error before them, they solemnly reversed the judgment.[6] An important decision with respect to our constitutional law, which has established beyond controversy the great privilege of unlimited freedom of speech in parliament; unlimited, I mean, by any authority except that by which the house itself ought always to restrain indecent and disorderly language in its members. It does not, however, appear to be a necessary consequence from the reversal of this judgment, that no actions committed in the house by any of its members are punishable in a court of law. The argument in behalf of Holles and Valentine goes indeed to this length; but it was admitted in the debate on the subject in 1667, that their plea to the jurisdiction of the King's Bench could not have been supported as to the imputed riot in detaining the speaker in the chair, though the judgment was erroneous in extending to words spoken in parliament. And it is obvious that the house could inflict no adequate punishment in the possible case of treason or felony committed within its walls; nor, if its power of imprisonment be limited to the session, in that of many smaller offences.

Prosecution of Chambers for refusing to pay customs.—The customs on imported merchandises were now rigorously enforced.[7] But the late discussions in parliament, and the growing disposition to probe the legality of all acts of the Crown, rendered the merchants more discontented than ever. Richard Chambers, having refused to pay any further duty for a bale of silks than might be required by law, was summoned before the privy-council. In the presence of that board he was provoked to exclaim that in no part of the world, not even in Turkey, were the merchants so screwed and wrung as in England. For these hasty words an information was preferred against him in the star-chamber; and the court, being of opinion that the words were intended to make the people believe that his majesty's happy government might be termed Turkish tyranny, manifested their laudable abhorrence of such tyranny by sentencing him to pay a fine of £2000, and to make a humble submission. Chambers, a sturdy puritan, absolutely refused to subscribe the form of submission tendered to him, and was of course committed to prison. But the court of King's Bench admitted him to bail on a habeas corpus; for which, as Whitelock tells us, they were reprimanded by the council.[8]

Commendable behaviour of judges in some instances.—There were several instances, besides this just mentioned, wherein the judges manifested a more courageous spirit than they were able constantly to preserve; and the odium under which their memory labours for a servile compliance with the court, especially in the case of ship-money, renders it but an act of justice to record those testimonies they occasionally gave of a nobler sense of duty. They unanimously declared, when Charles expressed a desire that Felton, the assassin of the Duke of Buckingham, might be put to the rack in order to make him discover his accomplices, that the law of England did not allow the use of torture. This is a remarkable proof that, amidst all the arbitrary principles and arbitrary measures of the time, a truer sense of the inviolability of law had begun to prevail, and that the free constitution of England was working off the impurities with which violence had stained it. For, though it be most certain that the law never recognised the use of torture, there had been many instances of its employment, and even within a few years.[9] In this public assertion of its illegality, the judges conferred an eminent service on their country, and doubtless saved the king and his council much additional guilt and infamy which they would have incurred in the course of their career. They declared, about the same time, on a reference to them concerning certain disrespectful words alleged to have been spoken by one Pine against the king, that no words can of themselves amount to treason within the statute of Edward III.[10] They resolved, some years after, that Prynne's, Burton's, and Bastwick's libels against the bishops were no treason.[11] In their old controversy with the ecclesiastical jurisdiction, they were inflexibly tenacious. An action having been brought against some members of the high-commission court for false imprisonment, the king, on Laud's remonstrance, sent a message to desire that the suit might not proceed till he should have conversed with the judges. The chief-justice made answer that they were bound by their oaths not to delay the course of justice; and after a contention before the privy-council, the commissioners were compelled to plead.[12]

Such instances of firmness serve to extenuate those unhappy deficiencies which are more notorious in history. Had the judges been as numerous and independent as those of the parliament of Paris, they would not probably have been wanting in equal vigour. But holding their offices at the king's will, and exposed to the displeasure of his council whenever they opposed any check to the prerogative, they held a vacillating course, which made them obnoxious to those who sought for