Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1856-11-07

steadily promoted merit in the public SER
vice without regard to his personal inter-
ests. He fixed high property quaiihca-
ton for the suffrage, though his own pop
ularity was chiefly among the lower or
ders. He put down the Jewellers, moS'
mercifulIy indeed, but firmly and without
q moments hesitation, though at great
risk to his own person and Influence; and
thereby. perhaps, saved English society
from a reign of terror. Considering the
perils and anxieties with which he was
beset, his power of concentration ana
self command must have been such as
have seldom been given man. we must
add to this, that his public lite began at
an ace when nothing but genius is young
and that he reigned for FIVE years over
mutinous army and a rebellious people,
with assassins constantly seeking his life,
with his mother wailing for terror in his
house. with ornaments and enemies at
his Council Board. Such well might be
the greatest man that the English race
could produce in its most heroic, though
its saddest hour.
Cromwelrs grandest visions, says NJ
Guizot, were bounded by his practical
good sense. No higher praise can be
given statesman. But his visions were
limited also by his patriotism. He was
not the man to undertake chimerical
schemes of ACKNOWLEDGEMENT, and to squan-
der oceans of blood and treasure, to graf
/ ify his own selfish and miserable pride.
Through his ambition no English citizen
put on mourning. After Worcester he
was expected to put himself at the head
of some great military enterprise, by g
nation which expected Armageddon and
had not forgotten Cressy. But aftel
/, Worcester he sheathed his sword forever
he sought the empire Of England on thu
sea, and gave the command an the glory
into other and unfriendly hands. Firs
since the great Edward he saw that on
= strength must rest, not on conques
= abroad. but on the consolidation and un
: ion of the three kingdoms. We hav
0 ratified his West Indian expedition b
g retaining what he acquired, and even tn
|, footing on the Continent which he sougt
d at Dunkirk we may be almost said
e have kept Gibralter. His quiet dc
Il nestle court, and his solemn but modes
J. state, were the true image of that pc
e icy of good sense, superior to vanit,
d which has been the mark of all our grea
is est statesmen, and most of all of him.
II And therefore he died triumphan
Of His people were subdued under him.
n His design for restoring the constitution
n monarchy was still advancing again
Is obstacles which he never moderated ar
at before which he never succumbed. E
ID rope was at his feet. The tidings of Cad
I'd and Tenerife were in his ears, and Il
rs laurels of Worcester were untarnisht
IS, upon his brows. He went down, as II
as Carlyle says, like summer sun, as 81
D. riously and as calmly. The one clol
N that hung over his setting was that
bereavement, not of failure, or of fear
i 1t is true that he so guarded his life fro
ie Royalist and Prelatist assassins that
10 assassin ever approached his perso
t. it is not true that the fear of assassinati
" entered into his soul. But another ida
II GER found its way. In the stormit
Is and most perilous moments of his life
'"' had watched over the welfare and p1
'e gress of his children with anxious a
~ unceasing care. He declared that not
as ing but the comfort which he found
vi the Bible had saved his life when he |,
VI his eldest son. And his end was t
~ crown, and, in some sort, the reward
'e' his affection; after so many terril
~ fields, and amid so many perils, he di
- of grief at Lady Claypole's death, a
- of illness brought on by watching by
" side.