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Cromwell would seem to be now at the height of his glory, victorious abroad and absolute at home, but never was his state more precarious; he wanted money, he was surrounded by enemies. To procure the former it seemed necessary to call a parliament. He appointed a council of nine to devise means of obviating the influence of the republicans in it, of raising a revenue from the estates of the royalists, and of settling the succession. But after three weeks' deliberation they came to no conclusion of importance, and the protector, suspicious of some of the members, dissolved the council (July 8).

To secure himself against the secret attempts of his enemies, he adopted various precautions; he wore armour inside his clothes and carried pistols in his pockets. He drove at full speed, his coach filled with attendants and surrounded by guards, and he always returned by a different road. He changed his bed-chamber frequently, and often personally inspected the night-watch of the palace. His nights were sleepless, or his rest was feverish and disturbed, and the anxiety of his mind visibly preyed on his health. Domestic affliction also came to add to his cares. In the relations of son, husband, and father, no one ever went beyond Cromwell in sincere affection; and his favourite daughter, Elizabeth Claypole, was now dying of an internal abscess, and the grief occasioned by the death of her youngest son augmented her danger. Cromwell abandoned all affairs of state, and went to Hampton-court, where she lay. He spent much time in her room, and always left it with an air of the deepest melancholy. When her death took place (Aug. 6), though he had long expected it, the event gave him a great shock. He was himself confined at the time with a fit of the gout; he was also seized with what was called a bastard tertian ague. One day (24th) hearing one of his physicians whisper to another that his pulse was intermittent, he grew alarmed, caused himself to be put to bed, and executed his will; but next morning when the physicians visited him, he took his wife by the

hand, and said, “I tell you I shall not die this bout, I am sure of it." Observing their surprise, he added, " Do not think I am mad; I speak the words of truth upon surer grounds than your Hippocrates or Galen can furnish. God himself hath given this answer, not to my prayers alone, but to the prayers of those who maintain a stricter correspondence and greater intimacy with him. Go on, therefore, confidently banishing all sadness from your looks, and deal with me as you would with a serving-man." His confidence extended to his family and friends. "His highness," writes Fleetwood, "has had great discoveries of the Lord to him, and assurances of being restored and made further serviceable." "O Lord," said his chaplain Goodwin, we pray not for his recovery; that thou hast granted already what we now beg is his speedy recovery."

But these predictions were not to be verified. At Whitehall, whither he had moved, his disease turned to a double tertian (28th); he became delirious, and, at times, insensible. In one of his lucid intervals he asked his chaplain Sterry if it were possible to fall from grace. On his replying in the negative, "Then," said he, "I am safe, for I am sure I was once in a state of grace." On the night of the 2nd of September he was heard to pray to this effect; "Lord, I am a poor foolish creature. This people would fain have me live; they think it best for them, and that it will redound much to thy glory; and all the stir is about this. Others would fain have me die. Lord pardon them, and pardon thy foolish people; forgive their sins; and do not forsake them, but love, and bless, and give them rest, and bring them to a consistency, and give me rest for Jesus Christ's sake; to whom, with thee and the Holy Spirit, be all honour and glory, now and for ever. Amen."

The next day (3rd) was his fortunate day, that of Dunbar and Worcester. After long lying insensible, he expired about four in the afternoon, amidst the tears of his attendants and in the sixtieth year of his age. When the news was brought to those who were assembled to pray for his reco

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CHARACTER OF CROMWELL.

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very, Sterry is said to have stood up and to have bid them not be troubled, "for," said he, "this is good news; because if he was of great use to the people of God when he was amongst us, now he will be much more so, being ascended to heaven to sit at the right hand of Jesus Christ, there to intercede for us and to be mindful of us on all occasions." Even his sagacious secretary, Thurloe, writing to Henry Cromwell, says, "He is gone to heaven, embalmed with the tears of his people, and upon the wings of the prayers of the saints."

This extraordinary man was a gentleman by birth, and educated at Cambridge, whence he went to Lincoln's Inn; but, instead of devoting himself to the study of the law, he plunged into the vices and excesses of the town. He speedily however reformed, and then running into the opposite extreme, became an enthusiast in religion. In the contest between the king and parliament his latent military talents were developed; these did not consist in tactics or manœuvres, but in vigour and decision; he never sought to surprise the enemy; his plan was to fall on with impetuosity. He had the art of attaching the soldiers both by his religious exercises and by a coarse kind of buffoonery and jocular language. His great skill in politics lay in knowing how to turn to advantage the opportunities which fortune presented; as a ruler he sustained the national honour in a manner which called to remembrance the glorious days of Elizabeth. In his domestic relations the character of Cromwell was every way estimable; he was a sincere friend and a placable enemy. He loved justice and delighted not in blood; yet ambition made him at times trample on the one and shed the other: it is possible that in the case of the king he thought himself justified both by reason and

* Mrs. Hutchinson justly remarks (p. 310), that " fortune itself seemed to prepare his way in sundry occasions." Hobbes says, "I cannot believe he then (in 1648) thought to be king, but only by well serving the strongest party (which was always his main polity) to proceed as far as that and fortune would carry him."

revelation. He never lost his sense of religion, though, like many other enthusiasts, he made hypocrisy compatible with it. His desire for the title of king is, like Cæsar's, a curious instance of human weakness. On the whole, Cromwell's is a name which Englishmen will generally be found to mention with respect.

CHAPTER XII.

THE COMMONWEALTH RESTORED.

1658-1660.

The Protector's funeral.-State of parties.-Dissolution of parliament.-The Rump recalled.-Royalist insurrection.-Despotism of the officers.-Proceedings of general Monk.-Restoration of the king.

IMMEDIATELY after the death of the protector, his council met, and it was resolved to proclaim his son Richard, whom he was said (but the fact is very doubtful) to have nominated as his successor. Richard was proclaimed in the usual manner; not a murmur was heard; and addresses poured in from the army and navy, the churches, the cities, and the boroughs. The royalists and the republicans, who had hoped to see the whole frame of government fall to pieces when the vigorous mind of Oliver was gone, looked on in amazement.

Richard Cromwell was a man of the most amiable, generous temper, but utterly deficient in the energy requisite for the situation in which he was placed. He had never been a soldier, and he made no pretensions to the character of a saint. He had spent his early days in the Temple, and when he married he retired to the house of his fatherin-law and led the life of a country gentleman. His father, when protector, made him a lord of trade, then chancellor of Oxford, and finally a member of his house of peers.

The funeral of the late protector was celebrated on a scale of expense such as England had never witnessed before. The model adopted was that of the funeral of Philip II. of Spain. Somerset-house was hung with black; the effigy of the protector, clad in royal robes, with the scep