ard Scotland till he was master in the
South. For Scotland was of all his kingdoms that in which there was the
greatest risk that a spark might produce a flame, and that a flame might
become a conflagration. The government had long wished to extend the
Anglican system over the whole island, and had already, with this view,
made several changes highly distasteful to every Presbyterian. One
innovation, however, the most hazardous of all, because it was directly
cognizable by the senses of the common people, had not yet been
attempted. The public worship of God was still conducted in the manner
acceptable to the nation. Now, however, Charles and Laud determined to
force on the Scots the English liturgy, or rather a liturgy which,
wherever it differed from that of England, differed, in the judgment of
all rigid Protestants, for the worse.

To this step, taken in the mere wantonness of tyranny, and in criminal
ignorance or more criminal contempt of public feeling, England owes her
freedom. The first performance of the foreign ceremonies produced a
riot. The riot rapidly became a revolution. Ambition, patriotism,
fanaticism, were mingled in one headlong torrent. The whole nation was
in arms. The power of England was, indeed, as appeared some years later,
sufficient to coerce Scotland; but a large part of the English people
sympathized with the religious feelings of the insurgents, and many
Englishmen who had no scruple about antiphonies and genuflexions, altars
and surplices, saw with pleasure the progress of a rebellion which
seemed likely to confound the arbitrary projects of the court and to
make the calling of a parliament necessary.

For the senseless freak which had produced these effects Wentworth is
not responsible. It had, in fact, thrown all his plans into confusion.
To counsel submission, however, was not in his nature. An attempt was
made to put down the insurrection by the sword; but the King's military
means and military talents were unequal to the task. To impose fresh
taxes on England in defiance of law would, at this conjuncture, have
been madness. No resource was left but a Parliament; and in the spring
of 1640 a parliament was convoked.

The nation had been put into good humor by the prospect of seeing
constitutional government restored and grievances redressed. The new
House of Commons was more temperate and more respectful to the throne
than any which had sat since the death of Elizabeth. The moderation