It had long been the conviction of the officers that the life of the king
was incompatible with their safety. If he were restored, they would become
the objects of royal vengeance; if he were detained in prison, the public
tranquillity would be disturbed by a succession of plots in his favour. In
private assassination there was something base and cowardly from which the
majority revolted; but to bring him to public justice, was to act openly
and boldly; it was to proclaim their confidence in the goodness of their
cause; to give to the world a splendid proof of the sovereignty of the
people and of the responsibility of kings.[1][a] When the motion was made
in the Commons, a few ventured to oppose it, not so much with the hope of
saving the life of Charles, as for the purpose of transferring the odium of
his death on its real authors. They suggested that the person of the king
was sacred; that history afforded no precedent of a sovereign compelled
to plead before a court of judicature composed of his own subjects; that
measures of vengeance could only serve to widen the bleeding wounds of the
country; that it was idle to fear any re-action in favour of the monarch,
and it was now time to settle on a permanent basis the liberties of the
country. But their opponents were clamorous, obstinate, and menacing. The
king, they maintained, was the capital delinquent; justice required that he
should suffer as well as the minor offenders. He had been guilty of treason
against the people, it remained for _their_ representatives to bring

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, Hist. iii. 249.]

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1648. Dec. 29.]

him to punishment; he had shed the blood of man, God made it a duty to
demand his blood in return. The opposition was silenced; and a committee of
thirty-eight members was appointed to receive information and to devise the
most eligible manner of proceeding. Among the more influential names were