of it was, that Cromwell "made mightier professions of a sincere heart to him," but took special care to "keep him out of the armie ever after. Thus it seems that Manchester and the Presbyterians were not the only persons who suspected him. The best man of the day, whose disinterested sagacity it would be foolish to question, did not regard his words as the surest manifestation of what was in his heart. Still, as a military chief, no one could stand either at his side or before him; honest or not, he was too great to be put down. Take his letters and speeches as full evidence, and no man's purposes could be purer; but take men's own word for their saintship, and we should find no sinners anywhere to explain the existence of a world of sin.

One thing, however, there was which aided his energy to give success to his enterprises, and to strike his enemies with dismay. It was his unshrinking firmness in doing the work of blood. In other men there were some natural relentings, particularly when they saw their countrymen hewed down and mangled before them; but we cannot see the point in his history, from first to last, where a consideration of this kind had power within him. In the eyes of some this may be his glory; we cannot say that it is so in ours. He writes to a friend, Colonel Walton, to inform him of the death of his son in battle, saying that he was a gallant and gracious young man, and full of comfort in his dying hours. Only one thing appeared to disturb the serenity of his departure; and that 66 was, that God had not suffered him any more to be the executioner of his enemies." Cromwell remarks of him, that he was "a precious young man, fit for God," and would doubtless be a glorious saint in heaven. It may be the entire want of the heroics in our nature; but this does not strike us as just the spirit of the gospel, nor, till thus advised, should we have conceived that it was of precisely such material that saints in heaven are made. But if such is the beauty of holiness, Cromwell had unquestionably made his own election sure. Sir Philip Warwick described his first appearing in parliament; "his linen plain and not very clean; his hat without a hatband; his countenance swoln and reddish; his voice sharp and untunable, and his eloquence full of fervor "; adding to the picture, "a speck or two of blood on his little band, which was not much larger than his collar." On that occasion, the blood was doubtless

his own; but in later days, those specks had so much enlarged and multiplied with the blood of others, that the artist of two colors is at his wits' end how to represent him in white raiment, as his theory requires him to do. No colorless chiar' oscuro will answer in the clear daylight of history. The horrible carnage of Drogheda or Tredagh refuses to be washed out, or painted with white lead; and yet the artist has determined that white the garment shall be.

It is quite an original effort by which Mr. Carlyle defends these passages in the life of his hero. No one, by the way, imagines that he shed blood for his own pleasure; he is simply charged with being somewhat savage in the battle, though not so at other times. And his present biographer defends him, not by showing that the slaughter was necessary as a warning, but by flying in the face of the humanity of the present day, describing it as a hypocritical parade of tenderness, and counting it glory to Cromwell that no touch of a similar affection ever visited his heart. "In Oliver's time," he says, "there was still belief in the judgments of God; in Oliver's time, there was yet no distracted jargon of abolishing capital punishments,' of Jean-Jacques philanthropy, and universal rose-water, in this world still so full of sin." Cromwell he describes as an armed soldier, solemnly conscious to himself that he is the soldier of God the just "; "doing God's judgments on the enemies of God."

Now there is distracted jargon in this world, no doubt; but we must say, that we have seen no specimen of it elsewhere that quite comes up to this; and, as to the abolition of capital punishment which is far from the worst thing that good men have undertaken, we do not know who are so much personally interested to do it away as those who propose to order their lives by the light of such doctrine as this. The writer seems to be aware, that, in spite of all he can say, the smell of rose-water will be esteemed more refreshing than the stench of scaffolds, battle-fields, and similar flower-beds of death. This moves him to language less courtly and composed than a sage might be expected to employ. "To a poor, slumberous, canting age, mumbling to itself everywhere, peace, peace, when there is no peace, such a phenomenon as Oliver, in Ireland or elsewhere, is not the most recognizable in its meanings." "Here is a man whose word represents a thing." Of this there can be

no doubt; but it is such a thing as many a little knave will swing for, before the humane can reach the result which they have at heart; while many a wholesale dealer in the same article, infinitely more deserving of such exaltation, will find trumpeters ready to crack their cheeks in his praise, as one who has God's truth in the heart of him," and is guided in all his paths by the religion of peace and love.

But while we cannot approve this way of clearing individuals by flying in the face of humanity itself, — and nothing can be worse than the style of a half prophet, half merryandrew, in which this writer deals with subjects of the most serious concern to mankind, we do not mean to accuse Cromwell of habitual cruelty, but only to say that there was nothing which prevented his marching bloodshod to the accomplishment of his object, whatever it might be. In his usual habits of thought and action, he was highminded and generous, if not humane; fierce as was his use of victory, he was rigid in suppressing the violence of his soldiers as soon as their work was done. His word to an enemy might be implicitly trusted; and many less vigorous chiefs would be far less merciful to a fallen foe. There was no stain of avarice or ordinary meanness resting on his name. Without the accomplishments, he had much of the open manliness, of Cæsar; and this, perhaps, as much as his wonderful ability, gave him his ascendency over others, and made it hard to believe, in this case as in that of the Roman, that one so generous in the common relations of life could have any thing selfish in his public aims and endeavours. But unfortunately, this domestic and social excellence is no sure pledge for civil patriotism; men, even great men, are lifted from the ground by the applause which follows their services, and easily believe the flattering assurance, that they are essential to their country.

Nothing could be more uniformly successful than Cromwell's military career; and though the sphere was comparatively small, even trifling, when compared with the vast campaigns of modern days, and though there were no such depressing difficulties in his way as it was the glory of Washington to encounter, still, he gave an impression of rapid thought, of quick decision, of inflexible firmness, and fiery action, such as must have made him first in any walk of life, however wide, which he was ordained to tread. It was

not necessary to suppose that he acted the constant hypocrite; and from this charge, were it required, Carlyle's work would successfully defend him. Perhaps this idea has been quite too much associated with Cromwell; that he wore his religion as an iron mask, to conceal his real expression at all times, and from every eye. It is well that such unfriendly imaginations should be done away. The truth with respect to him is, that his sincerity, at first unquestionable, and never wholly lost, shaded off into self-delusion; his ambition succeeded in blinding his conscience to a certain degree; and thus he was led to impose on others, where it was essential to his success. Still, he retained many and great virtues, and in most of his relations could afford to keep an open heart. He was not to be compared to the deliverer of his country, who quietly gave up his power when that work was done; and at the same time, he is not to be degraded to the common level of wholly selfish and unprincipled

usurpers.

When Cromwell rose into such overshadowing greatness that every eye could see the decisive influence which he would exert in all public affairs, the two great factions which divided the nation, Presbyterians and Independents, began to look to his course as their chief concern. That tolerant spirit, which, unlike most other religionists, he maintained from first to last, and which was too much in harmony with his high nature to be ascribed to interest or design, inclined him to favor the latter party, who were a confused mass, representing all manner of doctrines and opinions, and each profoundly interested to prevent the ascendency of any single sect except their own. The city of London was with the Presbyterians, and the Scotch lent them their influence, if not their action; but the army, which was by this time the only real House of Commons, were fierce on the other side. Mr. Carlyle says, " Modern readers ought to believe that there was a real impulse of heavenly faith at work in this controversy; that on both sides, especially the army's side, here lay the central element of all." To some extent, this is true; but other elements were there, working still harder. No doubt, each side believed that the service of heaven and the public welfare required the downfall of their opposers. It is the same holy alliance of conscience and passion which appears in the proceedings of every religious party. The

Presbyterians hated and feared the victorious army, and resolved, if possible, to disband it; while the army, having tasted the sweets of power, had no idea of resigning its privileges and blessings to civil hands.

And now, to some, Cromwell, the idol of the soldiers, appears like a cat near a rat-hole, quietly waiting his time; to others, he seems piously and prayerfully watching, in that position, for the order of Providence to succeed. To Ludlow, the republican, he whispered something of the army pulling out the leaders of the House by the ears; which seems, to the uninitiated, not precisely the course that Providence is accustomed to employ, and sounds like a foreshadowing of that operation which he afterwards executed with so much success. It would not appear from this work, that he had any thing to do with the famous self-denying ordinance which was intended to remove distasteful officers from the army, and therefore provided that no member of the House should hold any military or civil station. Carlyle, on what authority he does not say, avers that one Zouch Tate proposed it. Clarendon states that Cromwell, together with Vane, was the author of the measure, and gives the substance of his speech on that occasion. It is not probable that he intended at the time to throw out others and retain his own command. This was not like him; but it was felt that his services were indispensable; and when Fairfax solicited that the act should be suspended in his favor, he was too easily persuaded that it was necessary for himself to do what he had maintained should be forbidden to all without exception; thus making self-denial a very easy effort, when, by merely enforcing it on others, without submitting to it himself, the virtue brought its own reward.

The effect of thus remodelling the army was to make its power absolute and unquestioned, with Cromwell for its heart and head. Fairfax, it is true, was in name the commander; but he had no more the control than the figure-head on the vessel, to determine its course through the sea. At times, the Presbyterian party rose in momentary strength; the Scots, who now perceived, that, by surrendering the king to the English, they had only established a stronger despotism, sent an army, under the Duke of Hamilton, to restore him; while the Presbyterians in England, who were then the party of the constitution, endeavoured to make terms