1658, January.
His Highness's speeches on the 25th of January and 4th of February were filled with patriotism and wisdom, and with manifest touches of pathos, in harmony with such pensive memories of this mortal state of existence as have been just indicated; and in keeping, too, with such a foresight of the end soon to follow, as we now are able to exercise. They are the last two of those memorable orations which, after being long neglected, are now beginning to be studied and understood.
In the former of these speeches, the brave and noble ruler of England—burdened not so much with the infirmities of years as with the cares of government, worn out not by old age, but by years of toil and anxiety, of counsel, and of war—spoke of what was most dear to his heart, of the Protestant interest abroad, and the Protestant interest at home; for Cromwell was a Protestant to the backbone. Papists had been England's enemies from Queen Elizabeth's reign downwards, and as enemies to their country they were treated by the Protector.[159] And besides Papists, others in his estimation threatened the interests of the Commonwealth.
Cromwell's Last Speeches.
Just at this juncture, the Republicans, in their opposition to the new settlement, were bent upon upsetting everything. Foundation stones just laid were being rudely torn up, and the whole fabric was fast falling to pieces. Indeed some sectaries pleaded, in a certain foolish book, quoted but not named, for "an orderly confusion." "Orderly confusion!" exclaimed his Highness. "Men have wonderfully lost their consciences and their wits. I speak of men going about who cannot tell what they would have, yet are willing to kindle coals to disturb others." Fifth Monarchy men, also, were now hastening in the same direction as the Royalists. Whilst they wanted to set up a republic, they were in fact playing the game of the King of Scots. "It were a happy thing," said the old man, wearied out with the war of opinion, "if the nation would be content with rule. 'Content with rule' if it were but in civil things, and with those that would rule worst; because misrule is better than no rule, and an ill government, a bad government is better than none! Neither is this all, but we have an appetite to variety, to be not only making wounds, 'but widening those already made.' As if you should see one making wounds in a man's side, and eager only to be groping and grovelling with his fingers in those wounds! This is what such men would be at; this is the spirit of those who would trample on men's liberties in spiritual respects. They will be making wounds, and rending and tearing and making them wider than they were. Is not this the case? Doth there want anything—I speak not of sects in an ill sense, but the nation is hugely made up of them—and what is the want that prevents these things from being done to the uttermost, but that men have more anger than strength? They have not power to attain their ends. 'There wants nothing else.' And I beseech you judge what such a company of men of these sects are doing, while they are contesting one with another! They are contesting in the midst of a generation of men (a malignant Episcopal party, I mean) contesting in the midst of these all united. What must be the issue of such a thing as this?"[160]
1658, February.
Then, on the 4th of February, came those last words which wound up all—last words which Englishmen are now studying with deep earnestness, and with increasing insight—"And if this be the end of your sitting and this be your carriage, I think it high time that an end be put to your sitting, and I do dissolve this Parliament. And let God be judge between you and me."
"Believe me," said Hartlib, Milton's friend; "believe me it was of such necessity, that if their session had continued but two or three days longer, all had been in blood, both in city and country, upon Charles Stuart's account."[161]
Council of State.