writer, as he stood in the way of a reconciliation between the King and his people. So it came to pass that on May 10 the King commissioned Lord Arundel and the Lord Keeper to signify his royal assent to the Bill of Attainder. The next day he made another attempt to return from the path of justice to that of mercy. Would it not be better to consign Strafford to prison for life, with the provision that for any participation in public affairs, or attempt at flight, his life would certainly and finally be forfeited. He asked the Lords whether this was possible: they replied that it would endanger himself and his wife and children. For no relaxation was to be obtained from the universal disposition both in Parliament and in the city. Unless the King gave way it would be scarcely possible to maintain his government any longer. At the news of the King’s submission Strafford exclaimed, ‘That no one should trust in princes, who are but men.’ The genuineness of his letter has been denied, it being supposed that others wrote it, in order to remove the King’s personal scruples: but a thorough examination of the fact removes every doubt[258]. Though Strafford confirmed in his own person the experience expressed in the words of Scripture, he himself with his last words gave, with highminded forbearance, the opinion that it was necessary to sacrifice him, in consideration of the general circumstances and of the possible consequences. Strafford went to the scaffold in an exalted frame of mind. On his way he saw Laud, who at his request appeared [A.D. 1641.] at the window of his prison. The Archbishop was unable to speak. Strafford bade him farewell, and prayed that God might protect his innocence; for he had no doubt that he was in the right in fulfilling his King’s will, and establishing his prerogative. He persisted that he had never intended either to destroy the parliamentary constitution, or to endanger the Protestant Church. He did not appeal to the judgment of posterity, as if he had been conscious that great antagonisms are transmitted from generation to generation: he looked for a righteous judgment in the other world. Such moments must come, in order to bring to light the absolute independence of success and of the world’s judgment which strong characters possess. His guilt was of a nature entirely political; he had done his best to guide the King in these complications, undoubtedly in the belief that he was right in so doing, but still with indiscreet zeal. So also his execution was a political act: it was the expression of the defeat which he had suffered and occasioned, of the triumph of the ideas against which he had contended to the death.