read that in May, 1660, Charles II entered London in triumph, and that the whole nation seemed to give itself up to feasting and revelry. John Evelyn, who saw it, writes: "Shouting with inexpressible joy, the ways strewed with flowers, the bells ringing, the streets hung with tapestry, fountains running with wine, the mayor, aldermen, and all the companies, in their liveries, chains of gold, and banners; lords and nobles, clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet; the windows and balconies all set with ladies; trumpets, music, and myriads of people flocking, even so far as Rochester . . . I stood in the Strand and beheld it and blessed God. And all this was done without one drop of blood shed . . . but it was the Lord's doing."

We may well ask what it all really meant. Did it mean that the Civil War had been a mistake, and that the nation wished to be ruled by kings, as it had been in the days of the Tudors and the Yorkists?

Doubtless many of the old Cavaliers thought so. But when they saw the king restored, they forgot that he had been restored, not by a royalist victory, but by a parliamentary general (Monk).

The king was restored without any of those treaties such as had been discussed years before between Charles I and the Parliament. His promise that everything should be settled by a free Parliament was thought to be more satisfactory than any treaty. The Restoration was therefore the restoration of Parliament as well as of Monarchy, and the fact that the Parliament turned out to be composed of Royalists was due to the temper of the nation and to nothing else.

There is no doubt that the event known as the "Restoration" was a very important crisis in our history. It was a revolution, just as the setting up of the Commonwealth had been; and, just as the character of Cromwell in that period influenced the destinies of the whole nation, so the character of Charles II helped to decide the direction in which the nation was to develop. But Charles influenced our history as much by what he did not do, as by what he did. Had he been a king with a strong will and a taste for hard work, he might have become a despot like Louis XIV, his cousin, then reigning in France. It was fortunate for England that Charles threw away the opportunities which a foolish nation placed in his hands.

The newly elected Parliament was to meet in May. In the interval, the country was strongly royalist in feeling. It was then that the trial and execution of the Regicides took place. The elections resulted in a strong Cavalier Parliament. Only about sixty Presbyterians gained seats, although London continued to send four. This Parliament sat until 1679, and is known as the Long Parliament of the Restoration. This, of course, was contrary to the Triennial Act, but that Act was repealed as being a reflection on the king. Charles knew he was not likely to get a Parliament more favourable to him, so he took care not to dissolve it for eighteen years.

His first work was the restoration of the Church of England. Charles himself cared little about the Church. His private inclinations were towards Catholicism, and eventually he became a secret Catholic. He wished to secure toleration for Catholics, and would have agreed to some toleration for the Presbyterians. But the temper of the House of Commons was now so violently Anglican, that even without Clarendon the restoration of the Church was certain.

The discredit of the famous persecuting statutes belongs rather to the Commons than to Clarendon, the minister, although it is true he opposed the king's desire for toleration. The first of these acts, the Corporation Act  (1661), was directed against the Presbyterians, who were still numerous and influential in the towns. This act compelled all members of town councils or corporations, mayors, aldermen, councillors, and other officers, to receive the Holy Communion according to the rites of the Church of England. They had also to call the king Supreme Head of the Church and to take the oaths of allegiance and non-resistance to the king. By this means all power in the boroughs was placed in the hands of Anglicans, who thus could see that Anglican members were elected to Parliament.

In the following year the old Act of Uniformity, passed in 1559, was renewed. By this act it became impossible for any one to hold a Church living, or to be a tutor or a schoolmaster, who would not swear that he believed everything in the Book of Common Prayer. All the clergy were also compelled to be ordained by a bishop.

More than 1,200 rectors and vicars gave up their livings rather than conform to these laws, and for some years in many parts of the country it was difficult to find men able to take their places.

It was, however, still possible for the Presbyterians and other Puritan sects to worship in their own chapels, and the ejected clergy swelled the ranks of these "Dissenters." So a further act was now aimed at them. The Conventicle Act  forbade more than five persons besides the members of a household to meet for worship except according to the Prayer Book, under penalties of fine and imprisonment. For a third offence the offenders could be sent out of the country.

Lastly, a Five Mile Act  was passed, and this forbade "any nonconformist minister to come within five miles of any corporate town (or borough), or of any place in which he had formerly held a living; unless he would swear that he believed it to be unlawful to take up arms against the king, or try to change the Government either in Church or State."

These were harsh laws, but it was still possible to evade them; and even without evading them, it was still possible for Nonconformists to exist. Their numbers grew in spite of fine and imprisonment. The persecution of the Dissenters, like that formerly practised against the Catholics, was never very systematic. Every now and then there would be an outburst of persecution, and the gaols would be filled with men whose only offence was a conscientious objection to conform to the Prayer Book. Even a single magistrate could harass and ruin any poor Dissenter in his neighbourhood.