mandment, it should not be forgotten that they were zealous for an exceedingly important precept of God's law, and justly regarded themselves as called upon by the voice of the Divine word and Providence, to take an unflinching stand in behalf of an institution, on the maintenance of which depends the prosperity, physical and moral, individual and social, of man. Then, not unfrequently, were principles and measures denounced as fanatical, which are now cherished as obviously scriptural and momentously important by all classes of evangelical Protestants,-by Dr. Tyng and the accomplished Bishops of Calcutta and Ohio, no less than by the venerable Beecher, Stuart, and Alexander.

Nay; intelligent men, though of no religious profession, and regarding institutions only in their temporal bearings, are fast coming to the conclusion that the Lord's Day observed-not according to the prescriptions of King James' "Book of Sports," but according to the directions of the word of God-is indispensable to our well-being in this world that the Sabbath appointed amid the singing of the morning stars and the shouting of the sons of God over the finished work of creation, was made for man. They are beginning to judge the tree by its fruits; the fountain by its streams; the great principles of the Puritans by their results. They are learning to regard those men, so long mistaken for fanatics, as the true moral heroes of their ageto see that their minds, looking up to the Father of Lights, through his word, apprehended, their lips asserted and their arms vindicated those truths instinct with the energy of immortal life, which have in a measure regenerated England and given light, glory, and prosperity to the free States of this Union.

Those who desire the coming of the day when freedom, nurtured and preserved through the benign operation of Christian principle, shall encircle the earth with its blessings, behold now with joy the healthful current of Puritan influence flowing out farther and farther upon the world, one of the noblest of the streams which make glad the city of God. In our own land, spreading far and wide, from Plymouth to the Falls of St. Anthony, they see, wherever it flows, colleges, seminaries, free-schools and churches, well indoctrinated and put in possession of the arguments and defences of revealed religion, springing up and flourishing as willows by the water courses; and imparting strength and hope to the nation in its experiment of civil and religious liberty.

To increasing multitudes, not only here but in other lands, it is beginning to appear-what it always was in reality-ridiculous to impute, especially to the Puritans, infirmities which, if they possessed them at all, they possessed in a less degree than any other class of people of the age; and, ungrateful as well as unjust, to stigmatize as bigotry that enlightened, reformatory zeal, to which the world is indebted for so many benefits.

It was, indeed, the great glory of the Puritans to be free from whatever deserved the name of superstition. They were devout students of the Divine word. They loved to gaze upon the Holy Mount where the Eternal sits enthroned-to meditate on that scheme of

Providence, the ways of which are everlasting; on the moral government of God and the history of human redemption; on truths which thrill the hosts of heaven and carry sinking of heart to fallen princi. palities and powers. To minds thus raised above the sphere of earthly littleness and spiritualized into abhorrence of whatever served to obstruct their view of God's revealed realities, unauthorized ceremonies and uncommanded rites, as connected with worship, were at once puerile and abominable. Penetrated with a profound sense of what was due to them as creatures made a little lower than the angels, and endowed with reason and conscience and the power of voluntary and responsible action, and subject to the hopes and fears which gather around immortality, they felt it to be their right, as it was their duty, to think and to worship, untrammeled by the prescriptions of a fellow man. And gazing habitually on the Lord of Hosts, as the Father and Governor of the whole human brotherhood, and seeing the distance between the highest and the lowest of our race dwindling into nearness and equality, as compared with the interval which separates the most exalted of mankind from the King Eternal, it was natural that they should spurn as absurd and impious the distinctions which human selfishness and folly had reared. Civil government they recognized as the ordinance of God; but his ordinance not for the benefit of rulers only, but of the whole people. They feared God, and they feared none other. In this consisted their fanaticism—a fanaticism which is giving freedom to increasing millions of our nation and race.*

I have thus dwelt upon this topic, because unless the character of Cromwell is viewed in this aspect, it cannot be comprehended at all. 'The life and character' of such a man, without his religion, would be like the play of Hamlet, with the part of Hamlet left out. Cromwell's strongest sympathies and most intimate associations, from the time he first made a profession of piety, were with that branch of the great Puritan family, which was the most remarkable for the characteristics just described-that branch upon which the spirit of devotion to God and to country, and of improvement in whatever truly exalts and adorns humanity, was poured out in a measure altogether peculiar and glorious. What were the principles and what the spirit of the English Independents, may be known by all who will be at the pains to learn what were the principles and what the spirit of the founders of New England.

Cromwell's parliamentary career commenced in 1628. He then took his seat in the third parliament of Charles I., as a member for the borough of Huntingdon.†

* Bancroft says, "Puritanism was a life-giving spirit; activity, thrift, and intelligence followed in its train; and as for courage, a coward and a Puritan never went to-gether." "The fanatic for Calvinism, was a fanatic for liberty." Speaking of their efforts in England in the latter part of Elizabeth's reign, he says, "The Puritan clergy were fast becoming tribunes of the people and the pulpit was the place for freedom of rebuke and discussion." "The precious spark of liberty," says Hume, "had been kindled and was preserved by the Puritans alone. Puritanism," says De Tocqueville, "was not a mere religious doctrine but it corresponded in many points with the most absolute democratic and republican theories. It was this tendency which aroused its most dangerous adversaries."

He continued to reside at Huntingdon till 1631. He then removed to St. Ives; and thence five years afterwards to Ely.

Here he found himself among men, whose names are now known and honored wherever distinguished talent and ardent patriotism find admirers. His noble cousin John Hampden, the sagacious and eloquent Pym, Sir Robert Philips, Sir John Eliot,these were of the leading stars then shining on the popular side of the parliamentary firmament. Already had the nation begun to rock to and fro in the incipient tremblings of the earthquake of revolution. Already had it become evident to the more discerning that the King was intent on Inaking the monarchy of England what the monarchy of France and of Spain was already-absolute. This was the lesson which his father had taught him by precept and by example; this was the task to which his wife, the imperious daughter of Henry IV of France, was prompting him with a ceaseless and infatuated urgency; this was the object to which his own selfish and despotic nature was impelling him with an unrelenting and finally desperate determination. Meanwhile England, in her great interests-her religion and litera. ture, in her commerce and manufactures-in her totality of civilization-was outgrowing her old governmental forms-her garments were waxing small-and she was giving some signs of desire to accommodate herself more liberally. But popular revolutions had not then become common events. The sun of American freedom had not then risen. The French Revolution was yet among things to come. The march of modern Democracy-calling potentates to account and overturning thrones and dynasties-was not a thing as yet known and read of all men. On the side of oppressors there was power, and the knowledge how to take it away was not then the comfort of the nations. England must try the great experiment of revolution and of effort in behalf of popular rights.

Lights and shadows strangely commingling in the prospect, caused the hearts of far-seeing statesmen to beat fitfully with the conflicting emotions of hope and fear. There were men in Parliament and out of Parliament, who were deep-read in the living oracles of truth, who had grasped, with an energy and faith known only to souls whom the light of heaven has made free, the principles which lie at the foundation of all good government, and who longed with the steady ardor of profound and earnest spirits for a change which should realize their conception of a commonwealth without king and nobles, and of a church in which prelatical assumption and tyranny should be discarded. But at present, the great majority of the nation looked not so far. They sought only the reform of certain abuses and the practical recognition of certain rights.

I will not insult this auditory with an argument to prove that the representatives of the people of England had the right to demand of the king the removal of enormous grievances and the acknowledgment of the law-protected liberties of the nation-or that having conceded so much, he was under obligation to keep his word of promise.†

*See Bancroft's Hist. of U. S., Vol. I. and especially Chap. VIII, and Milton's Prose Works, Vol. I., (as published by H Hooker, Phil., 1845,) particularly the article on "Reformation in England" and other treatises which immediately follow it.

Even if in regard to the principle that governments are instituted for the maintenance of

When Cromwell first entered Parliament, the strife with the King had been in progress three years. Parliament after Parliament had been angrily dissolved; one royal promise after another had been broken, and the discerning were fast learning that the liberties of the nation must be abandoned or the perils of a fearful struggle bravely

met.

Cromwell's first appearance as a speaker was every way characteristic. With a thread-bare coat and, as some say, with a hat without a hat-band, he made, it is true, a not very promising figure in such an assemblage. Pym had just accused Mainwaring, the royal chaplain of Popish practices. In the course of the debate on this case, Cromwell arose and spoke with a fervor, a boldness, and a power which produced at once a strong sensation. He was not an elegant speaker. He was not always clear and self-possessed. To the very close of his life, his thoughts seemed to come forth not in a flowing, unbroken stream, but rather as a mountain torrent, forcing its way in spite of obstacles. Yet the transcendent power of the man-his mighty intellect, his boldness, his directness of aim, his overwhelming vehemence, made him from the very first a speaker to whom friends and foes listened.

This Parliament-so distinguished for the energetic courage which obtained from the king the grant of the Petition of Right, binding him to imprison no man except by legal process; to leave the cognizance of offences to the ordinary tribunals; to billet no more soldiers on the people; and to raise no taxes without the consent of Parliament; and ventured to lift up the voice of stern remonstrance against certain tyranical and papistical practices in the high places of the national Church-was soon after dissolved. The King was about to try the dangerous experiment of extorting money from the nation, and of thus reigning without any Parliament.

I will not detain you with a detail of the events of those eleven years of highhanded and lawless oppression, during which Laud and Strafford, wielding the combined terrors of ecclesiastical and of civil power, endeavored with a ruthless and unfaltering energy to carry out the despotic purposes of Charles. Then, contrary to ancient laws as well as the recent stipulations of the Petition of Right, moncy was wrung from the nation, and soldiers were vexatiously quartered on the people; then, in violation of a royal promise, all the powers of the arbitrary tribunal of the Star Chamber and of the lawless Court of High Commission, were terrifically developed and exercised, and unrighteous judgments, exorbitant fines, unwarranted imprisonments, the pillorying of good men after cutting off their ears and slitting their noses, and other meanly cruel wrongs and outrages were of almost daily occurrence. I will only remark that Charles is not to be held guiltless touching these acts of ruthless tyranny, on the ground

the rights of the people-such as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness-and derive their just powers from the consent of the governed-we were to admit that it was "self-evident" only in this country and in the year 1776, yet it should be observed that Charles I., for full and ample consideration, solemnly, or at least very formally and explicitly, yielded to certain demands of the nation, e. g., the things set forth in the "Petition of Right." "He had therefore no right to exercise any longer prerogatives which he had thus surrendered, unless it be admitted that kings have "a divine right" to falsify their word!

either of their having been done by Laud and Strafford, or of his having been badly advised. Who entrusted to the hands of these cruel men the power to do so much wrong? Did not Charles? And why did he select and retain such advisers? Was it because there were no prelates in the Church who were humane men and pious, that he was under the necessity of clothing so merciless a bigot as Laud with spiritual powers so vast? And was it for want of statesmen of enlarged minds and patriotic feelings, that he made Strafford his counsellor and his chief minister of state? No, he promoted Laud and he lured into his service the eloquent and mighty Strafford, not to be misled by them, but because he saw that in their different spheres they would be efficient instruments of despotism. It is obvious, from facts not denied by historians partial to him, that he was not a well-meaning, kind-hearted man, led to do evil unintentionally, but, on the contrary, self-willed, cold-hearted, artful and imperious.* It is true that he was unwise and fickle in his measures. Seeking to accomplish such an object as he did, in such a country as England and in opposition to such a spirit of freedom as was gradually awakened, his general purpose was little short of madness. But to this his own proud, selfish heart, was the chief prompter, and his rash and wicked measures were as often adopted against the wishes as with the advice of his friends.†

*Witness, for example, his false publication of his answer to the Petition of Right (see Guizot's Rev. of 1640, p. 55); his habitual violation of all his promises, which he found it either inconvenient or unpleasant to keep (see Macaulay's Mis. Art. Hampden or any history Guizot's); his angry dissolu

which gives the details of his course with his Parliaments, 640 (even Clarendon condemns

tion of his Parliaments-especially of that which met in April

this act); and his attempt to arrest by violence and in opposition to all law, five obnoxious members of the Commons on the 3d of Jan. 1642. "This he did without giving the slightest hint of his intention to those advisers whom he had solemnly promised to consult." Even Hume, with all his sophistry, is unable to make Charles appear honest and well-meaning.

Since the delivery of this lecture, the wonder has in one or more instances been expressed that I did not give Charles credit for his "many private and domestic virtues." To this 1 reply, that my subject required me to speak of Charles only in reference to his public conduct-that conduct which justified the course pursued towards him by Cromwell and other patriots wao made war upon him and called him to account as a "tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and a public enemy." Besides, I must say, with all frankness, that I have for years looked with a feeling akin to indignation upon the attempt to offset a few "household decencies"-against the great crimes of a public life marked with the cruelty, the ingratitude, and "the incurable dissimulation" which characterized the career of Charles I. In regard to the influence which these "virtues" ought to have upon our estimate of his character, I most cordially concur with the Họn. T. B. Macaulay, "a Churchman," a member of the British Parliament and one of the most popular writers of the age. "And what, after all," asks he, "are the virtues ascribed to Charles? A religious zeal, not more sincere than that of his son [James II, who, for his cruel bigotry, was driven from the throne and the realm in 1688] and fully as weak and narrow minded, and a few of the ordinary household decencies, which half the tombstones in England claim for those who lie beneath them. A good father! A good husband! Ample apologies indeed for fifteen years of persecution, tyranny and falsehood We charged him with having broken his coronation-oath-and we are told that he kept his marriage vow! We accuse him of having given up his people to the merciless inflictions of the most hot-headed and hardhearted of prelates-and the defence is that he took his little son on his knee and kissed him! We censure him for having violated the articles of the Petition of Right, after having, for good and valuable consideration, promised to observe them-and we are informed that he was accustomed to hear prayers at six o'clock in the morning! It is to such considerations as these, together with his Vandyke dress, his handsome face and his peaked beard, that he owes, we verily believe, most of his popularity with the present generation. For ourselves, we own that we do not understand the common phrase-a good man but a bad king. We can as easily conceive a good man and an unnatural father or a good man and a treacherous friend. We cannot, in estimating the character of an individual, leave out of our consideration his conduct in the most important of all human relations. And if, in that relation, we find him to have been selfish, cruel and deceitful, we shall take the liberty to call him a bad man, in spite of all his temperance at table and all his regularity at chapel." Those who make so much of the conduct of Charles, just before and at the time of his execution, as proof of his piety and previous innocency of life, need perhaps to be reminded that half the felons who have suffered capital punishment, and more than half the state-criminals who have been put to death in England, have died