World. But if he liked good cheer and a great way of living, he is never to
be imagined as clinking cans with a "Hey for Cavaliers! Ho for Cavaliers!"
He never fought for the King's cause--though he fought a duel in Paris with
a French lord who took Charles's name in vain, and killed his man too. His
rôle was always the intellectual one. He conspired for the cause--chiefly,
I think, out of personal friendship, and because he held it to be the cause
of his Church. He was not a virulent politician; and on the question of
divine right the orthodox Cavaliers must have felt him to be very unsound
indeed.

The era of Parliaments had now come, and Digby was to feel it. He was
summoned to the bar of the House as a Popish recusant. Charles was ordered
to banish him and Montague from his councils and his presence; and their
examination continued at intervals till the middle of 1642. The Queen
interceded for Digby with much warmth, but she was a dangerous friend; and
in the same year Montague and he were sent to prison. I have heard a
tradition that Crosby Hall was for a time his comfortable jail, but can
find no corroboration of this. The serjeant-at-arms confined him for a
brief space at The Three Tuns, near Charing Cross, "where his conversation
made the prison a place of delight" to his fellows. Later, at Winchester
House, Southwark, where he remained in honourable confinement for two
years, he was busy with writing and experimenting--to preserve him from "a
languishing and rusting leisure." Two pamphlets, both of them hasty
improvisations, one a philosophic commentary on a certain stanza of the
_Faërie Queen_, the other, his well-known _Observations on the 'Religio
Medici'_, are but mere bubbles of this seething activity, given over mostly
to the preparation of his _Two Treatises_, "Of the Body," and "Of the
Soul," published later in Paris, and to experiments on glass-making.

Many efforts were made for his release, the most efficacious by the Queen