to the sword. A ray of justice flashed over him, and he bethought himself that it was hardly right to murder the soldiers for resisting when acting under orders, and so he transferred his vengeance to the officers. Such an uncivilized mode of warfare has never been heard of, except among a barbarous people. The Irish were not rebels-they were fighting for their legitimate King, and entitled to civilized treatment. What right had Cromwell to make them an exception to his ordinary mode of warfare? Why did he not impose the same conditions on the English and Scotch towns that he invested? What if he had massacred the inhabitants of Bristol and Edinburgh because they put him to the trouble of storming them? In what respect were they different from Drogheda and Wexford? The simple truth is, his conduct of the Irish war was savage and ferocious-unworthy of a civilized man, much more of a Christian, and will rest a spot on his name to the end of time. In sacking cities, massacres will sometimes occur, when a long and bloody resistance has so exasperated the soldiers that all discipline is lost. Thus, during the peninsular war in the time of Napoleonin the sacking of Badajos and St. Sebastian by the English, and the storming of Oporto by the French, the inhabitants were massacred, but the officers took no part in it, nay, exposed their lives in endeavoring to arrest the violence. But here we have a Puritan commander, who prays before going to battle, sings psalms pastoral letters to Parliament-not perin the midst of the fight, and writes mitting but ordering massacres to be committed.

Mr. Carlyle seems to think the plan an excellent one, inasmuch as it prevented the effusion of blood. Yes, but supposing Cromwell had not always been victorious, and the Irish had retaliated on him the bloody warfare he adopted, what kind of a campaign would this have been. This" doing evil that good may come," and making "the ends justify the means" is considered in our times rather doubtful morality.

We have spoken as condemnatory of the conduct of Cromwell towards the Irish, as if he had butchered the inhabitants in brutal ferocity or fiendish hate, because we wish not in any way to sanction the view which Carlyle takes. But though there can be no apology for such a mode of warfare there may be for

the man.

The character is indicated more by the motive than by the act. Now, we do not see the least inconsistency in Cromwell's conduct from first to last. The very simplicity with which he gives his own account of the affair, shows that he imagines himself to be acting right. He makes no apology-offers no excuses throws in no palliation, but tells the naked facts as if it were impossible to doubt his sincerity. These barbarous massacres, instead of furnishing any contradictions to his character illustrate it. They prove clearly our first statements, that Cromwell was acting under a kind of hallucination, and conceived himself a special agent of God, to destroy his foes and establish his Church. He fought battles precisely on the principles the Israelites did when they struggled to keep possession of the land of Canaan. The Old Testament was constantly in his mouth, and he killed men coolly as Joshua. The Scotch and English being Protestants, he regarded them as Judah might Dan or Manasseh in a civil war; while the Irish Papists he considered as Amalekites or Moabites, which were to be destroyed as enemies of the Lord.

To

If Cromwell had not been borne up by some such lofty sentiment as this, it is very doubtful whether he could have saved England from tyranny first, and from a war of factions afterwards. such a man there is no wavering of purpose-no confusion of thought. The complicated motives and fears which distract the mere political leader he knows nothing of. With one grand object in view he passes steadily towards it-erring it may be in his means, but not in his motives. To make no allowance for the motives or impressions that guided Cromwell, and judge him by his acts alone, would be to condemn all the great warriors of the Old Testament as cut-throats. We have no doubt Cromwell considered himself as much commissioned by the Lord as ever David did. As he took no glory to himself from his victories, so he felt no blame in the slaughters that preceded them. It was the work of the Lord, from first to last, and he gave him all the glory, never doubting that he took all the responsibility. But Cromwell had no right to this impression, for he had received no revelation from God. The warriors of Israel received their commission from Heaven, through its own appointed medium; and hence, their bloody wars were no more nor less than

divine justice. But Cromwell received no such divine direction in his Irish massacres, and to believe that he had, argues a want of moral sense and of the spirit of true religion, which mars very much the excellency of his character. Still it was an error of the intellect rather than of the heart, and sprung from that very belief without which he could not have saved England.

We could wish to speak of the part he took in the condemnation of Charles, and defend him from the charge of injustice and cruelty which has been preferred against him, but find we have not space. His dissolution of the Rump Parliament by physical force, and assumption of the executive power of the kingdom, have been the basis on which a charge of ambition is attempted to be made out. But for nearly three years after England, Scotland and Ireland, were subdued, and rested quiet under the Parliament, the Parliament could not get along. The King was dead, and now who should rule-or rather, how should the Parliament rule. Endless suggestions-proposed and rejected bills-committees formed and disbanded-this was the history of the Rump Parliament, that evidently could not rule England. Everything was quivering in the balance; some wanted a republic-some a sort of mixed government, that no one knew anything about some the restoration of the Stuarts. In this dilemma the army, now all-powerful, looked to Cromwell for help; indeed, all England stretched her hands out to him for relief. He had saved it from outward foes, and now he was looked to as the complete deliverer from her internal feuds. Conference after conference was held with Parliament, and he struggled manfully to steady the tottering fabric of liberty he had helped rear with so much effort. At length a bill, settling the basis of a new representation, was brought forward, one clause of which made the Rump Parliament a part of the new. But Cromwell saw, with his far-reaching glance, that clean work must be made, and this war of factions ended, or endless revolution would follow-and so he opposed the bill. On the day that it was expected to pass, he, accompanied by some twenty or thirty of his musketeers whom he could trust, went to the House, and took his seat. After listening awhile to the discussion he arose to speak. Calm and respectful at first, he alluded to the great

work that had been done, and gave them all honor for the part they had borne in it; but waxing warm as he proceeded, he began to speak also of their injustice, delays, strifes and petty ambitions-hurling fiercely accusation after accusation in their faces, till a member rose and rebuked him for his language. "Come, come," broke forth Cromwell, "we have had enough of this. I will put an end to your prating." He had now fairly got on his battle-face, and his large eyes seemed to emit fire as he strode forth on to the floor of the House, and clapping his hat on his head and stamping the floor with his feet, poured forth a torrent of invective on the now thoroughly alarmed Parliament. That speech is lost, but it scathed like fire. "You have sat here too long already," he exclaimed ; "you shall now give place to better men ;" and turning to his officer, Harrision, he gave a brief word of command, as he would on the field of battle, and his brave musketeers with leveled bayonets marched sternly in. As he stood amid the bayonets that had so often surrounded him in the field of death, he began to launch his thunderbolts on the right hand and on the left, and breaking over all ceremonies of speech, boldly named the crimes of which the members were guilty, and closed up with-" corrupt, unjust persons; scandalous to the profession of the gospel. How can you be a Parliament for God's people. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!"

Thus ended the Rump Parliament, and England lay on Cromwell's shoulders. So did Bonaparte march into the Council of Five Hundred, with his brave grenadiers at his back.

But no sooner was this summary dissolution of Parliament effected, than Cromwell was heard to say, It's you who have forced me to this. I have sought the Lord, night and day, that he would rather slay me than put me upon the doing of this work." But it was done, and when the first gust of passion had passed Cromwell was himself again, and took the government on his brave heart as calmly as if he were born a king. This assumption of power, and his after dissolutions of Parliament, when it would not act in accordance with his wishes, are called despotic and tyrannical acts, and so they were. But will any one tell us what else could have been done. To suppose that argument

and reason would triumph, in that strife of factions and chaos of sentiments, is absurd. The truth is, England needed some strong hand to steady her, and Cromwell's alone could do it. Power was needed to overawe the imbecile and ambitious spirits that were too ignorant to rule, and too selfish to be united. Cromwell's measures were high-handed, but we cannot see what else could have been done, unless a Stuart had been called in. The people the entire mind of the nation wanted something permanent around which it could settle. The Rump Parliament imparted no confidence, and gave no security. Cromwell was the only man in England that could keep the revolution from going backward instead of forward.

In great revolutions, the supreme power must finally always be lodged in the army, of which the successful leader is the representative. The strong arm of power is needed to mould the confused elements in form and permanent shape-discussion and conventions never can do it. True, Cromwell's course was despotic, but the cause of freedom and the ends of justice demanded it. There is a difference between the despotic act that crushes liberty, and the one that quells lawless violence. The forms of justice must sometimes be disregarded to save its spirit.

Of the five years of Cromwell's Protectorate, we shall say but little. He ruled England well, and showed a better title to reign than any Stuart that ever filled a throne. Mr. Carlyle has given us but little of these few years, except Cromwell's speeches. These are, for the most part, rambling, incoherent and dull. They do not evince a single spark of genius, yet great practical common sense is visible throughout. Their incoherency of expression is owing, doubtless, to their having been delivered extempore, and taken from his lips by reporters. It is evident, however, that he wielded the sword better than the pen, and could win two battles easier than he could make one good speech.

England flourished under his sway, and his first measures indicated the leading trait of his character and the great object of his life. A commission was appointed to purify the Church of ungodly ministers, and religion received his first attention. Parliament was opened with prayer and a sermon, and Cromwell scarce made a speech without allusion to

some Psalm of David. His feelings, during the Spanish war, and the fierce energy with which he took part with the persecuted Waldenses, show the religious sentiment strong to the last.

In the revival of commerce-by his conquests in the West Indies and the triumph of his fleets everywhere--he established the maratime ascendency of England; while in the administration of affairs at home, he exhibited a grasp of thought and a practical power combined with an earnestness and purity of purpose, which England may in vain look for in any other sovereign.

He sung Psalms when he went into battle, and consulted the Bible in his campaigns as much as his maps, and quoted Scripture to Parliament-all of which may seem very weak in our day, but they detracted nothing from the strength and majesty of Cromwell's character. A strong, sincere and religious man-a Christian of Moses' time, if we may use the term, rather than of ourswho read the Old Testament much, and the Gospel little; pondered the dispensation of law more than that of grace; understood the lofty language of David better than the meek words of John; loved the Commandments more than the Beatitudes; a fierce fighter, a good ruler and a stern patriot, was Oliver Cromwell. He is outliving his traducers, and will be honored by man long after thrones have been cast aside as useless things.

Had he lived longer, so as to have consolidated his government, and seen most of his restless contemporaries safe under ground, or even left a son but half equal to himself, the destiny of England would have been different, and its after history, very possibly, that of a republic.

But after five years of ceaseless anxiety -at war with his Parliament and surrounded by assassins-Cromwell, broken down by his efforts, at the age of fiftynine rested from his labors. On his dying bed we hear the same phrases, the same sentiments, which, when uttered on the field of battle or in Parliament, have been called cant and hypocrisy. But did he, with his eyes fixed steadily on that dread eternity on whose threshhold he stood, speak of the covenants of God, and pray in tones that made the listener tremble, to sustain his character to the last. No, his death-struggle and glorious departure in full hope of a blessed immortality stamp the insinuation as false.

That was a solemn hour for England, and strong hearts were everywhere besieging Heaven to spare the Protector. But the King of kings had issued His decree, and the spirit that had toiled and endured so long was already gathering its pinions for eternity." It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God!" broke thrice from his pallid lips, and then he fell in solemn faith on the covenant of grace. Just before his death a fearful storm arose, and amid the darkness, and tempest, and uproar of the elements, the dying Cromwell prayed. Bonaparte, dying in the midst of the storm, shouted forth, Tète d'armée," as his eye fell once more on his mighty columns, but Cromwell took a nobler departure. Not in the delirium of battle did his soul take its final leap, but with his gaze fixed steadfastly on the "Eternal kingdoms," he moved from the shore of Time, and sunk from sight forever. Carlyle has done Cromwell justice,

still we do not think he has fully appreciated his character. How such a neologist and German religionist as he could ever be brought to tolerate what is called a canting Puritan," is to us passing strange. To do it he has had constantly to look at him through a false mediumto practice a sort of self-deception; and we sometimes imagine we can see him shutting up his eyes, and resolutely launching forth into praise against his own convictions, when some expression of Cromwell crosses so abruptly his tastes and sentiments. But he needed this dogged determination to see no fault in his hero, to balance his natural dislike to "Puritan cant," in order to give Cromwell fair measure.

He has rendered history a service, and done a great man justice in this work, which, we doubt not, will effect a permanent revolution in public opinion respecting the character of Oliver Cromwell.

I.

II.

V.

VII.

"the other way."

X.

We have received from the publishers two volumes bearing the above title, containing an interesting narrative of the personal adventures of the author in one of the secluded islands of the Marquesas. The style is plain and unpretending, but racy and pointed, and there is a romantic interest thrown around the adventures

which to most readers will be highly charming. We cannot yield assent to many of the author's conclusions and inferences, particularly in his remarks concerning the Missionaries of the Sandwich Islands which we think are prejudiced and unfounded; but his own adventures carry with them an air of truth