I confess, on entering upon my undertaking, that I realize its difficulty more than ever.  When I fasten my eyes upon the unheard-of misfortunes of such a great queen, I fail to find words; and my mind, revolted by so many undeserved hardships inflicted upon majesty and virtue, would never consent to rush into such a maze of horrors, if the admirable constancy with which this princess bore her reverses had not risen far above the crimes by which they were caused.  But at the same time, Christians, I labor under another solicitude:  what I meditate upon is no human work; I am not here a historian, about to unravel to you the mysteries of cabinets, or the order of battles, or the interests of parties; I must rise above man in order that every creature should tremble under the judgments of God.  “I shall enter with David into the powers of the Lord,” and I have to show you the wonders of his hand and of his resolutions:  resolutions of deserved punishment for England, resolutions of compassion for the Queen’s salvation; but resolutions stamped by the finger of God, whose imprint is so striking and manifest in the events of which I have to treat, that no one can fail to be dazzled by his light.

When we go back in time, no matter how far, and investigate in the histories the instances of great revolutions, we find that hitherto they have been caused by the licentiousness or violence of princes.  For when princes, ceasing to study their civil and military affairs, make hunting their only labor, or as was said by one historian, find all their glory in their splendor, and put all their mind to the invention of new pleasures; or when, carried away by their violent natures, they cease to respect the laws and to know any bounds, and thus lose both the respect and the fear of their subjects, because the ills those subjects are bearing seem more unendurable than those they only fear,—­then, either excessive licentiousness or patience driven to extremity is full of menace to reigning houses.

Charles I., King of England, was just, moderate, magnanimous, very well informed in regard to his affairs and to the arts of government; never was there a prince more able to make royalty not only venerable and holy, but also loved and cherished by his people.  What fault can be found with him, save clemency?  I am willing to say of him what a celebrated writer said of Caesar, that he was so clement as to be compelled to repent it. ("Caesari proprium et peculiare sit elementiae insigne qua usque ad poenitentiam omnes superavit.”) Let this be, then, if you will, the illustrious fault of Charles as well as of Caesar; but if any one wishes to believe that misfortune and defeat are always associated with weakness, do not let him think, for all that, he can persuade us that either strength was wanting in Charles’s courage or energy in his resolutions.  When pursued to the very last extremities by Fortune’s implacable malignity, and betrayed by all his people,