Up to the end of the seventeenth century the Chair was to all intents and purposes in the gift of the Crown: its occupant was a mere creature of the reigning sovereign. "It is true," wrote Sir Edward Coke, in 1648, "that the Commons are to chuse their Speaker, but seeing that after their choice the king may refuse him, for avoiding of expense of time and contestation, the use is that the king doth name a discreet and learned man whom the Commons elect."[186] The Speaker was, indeed, nothing more nor less than the parliamentary representative of the King, from whom he received salaried office and other material marks of the royal favour. [186] "The Institutes of the Laws of England," fourth part (1648), p. 8. In Stuart days the Commons had grown so jealous of the influence of the Crown, and found the Speaker's spying presence so distasteful, that they often referred important measures to Giant Committees of which they could themselves elect less partial chairmen. That they were justified in their fears is beyond doubt. In 1629, for example, Speaker Finch, who was a paid servant of King Charles, declined to put to the House a certain question of which he had reason to believe that His Majesty disapproved. Again and again he was urged to do his duty, but tremblingly refused, saying that he dared not disobey the King. On being still further pressed, the timorous Finch burst into tears, and would have left the Chair had not some of the younger and more hotheaded members seized and held him forcibly in his seat, declaring that he should remain there until it pleased the House to rise.[187] [187] Carlyle's "Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell," vol. i. p. 88. Until comparatively recently it was not permissible for a Speaker to leave the Chair until, at the instigation of some member, the motion "that this House do now adjourn" had been put. In this connexion a pathetic story is told of Speaker Denison. On one occasion the House broke up rather hurriedly, and the necessary formula for releasing the Speaker was forgotten. He was consequently compelled to remain a lonely prisoner in the Chair until some good-natured member could be brought back to set him free. Even in the days of the Commonwealth, the choice of a Chairman was not left entirely to the independent will of the Commons, and Lenthall, himself the first Speaker to treat the Crown with open defiance, owed his election to the urgent recommendation of Cromwell.