the people, and that the whole nation perish

not!"

"This bold speech, for that night, ended the debate. Cromwell was silent-though the remarkable and resolute compression of his own mouth, and the deep frown that furrowed his high forehead, and the determined gleam of his hard eye, showed that his silence was produced by any thing rather than doubt or fear.

Ardenne, at this last and heaviest blow, was, for the moment, wholly overcome. He saw the certain peril, the imminent and overwhelming ruin, but he saw neither refuge, nor escape. He felt that, while Charles lived, England could never be at rest-but he did not feel that his death would give her that repose, which she desired, now more almost than liberty.

In gloom that evening they had met-in deeper gloom they parted-save Ireton alone, who seemed elate and almost joyous ;-for, fraught with a sincere unselfish patriotism that would not have disgraced an ancient Roman-a

wild and daring theorist―a confident and bold believer in the perfectibility of man, and in the supreme excellence of democratic forms-he fancied that he now foresaw the advent of his dearest wishes the overthrow of monarchy and aristocracy for ever—the birth of a sea-girt republic-the creation of a British state, unequalled in the annals of the world!-more wise and eloquent than the free Athens !—in morals more severe than Sparta!-in grace more elegant than Corinth!-in empire, arms, and glory, more magnificent than Rome!

CHAPTER IV.

I have advertised him by secret means,

That if, about this hour, he make this way,

Under the colour of his usual game,

He shall here find his friends with horse and men

To set him free from his captivity.

King Henry IV.

SADLY and wearily the year wore onward; the golden days of summer were already passed, the leaves, which had so greenly flourished a few weeks before, grew sear like human hopes, and were whirled wildly from their hold by each succeeding blast. Autumn had waned already into winter, yet still the leaders of the army, after

their seizure of the fatal letter, which necessarily ruined the King's cause, remained inactive, as it seemed, at Windsor, but in truth "hushed in grim repose," and waiting the maturity of those events, which they foresaw distinctly and expected with a stern and vengeful pleasure.

Meantime the privates became every day more restless and ungovernable. Distrusting their own officers while they held daily intercourse with the King's friends, now that they had withdrawn themselves from all communication, they imagined not that the correspondence was indeed at an end, but that some scheme had been determined to the exclusion and betrayal of their interests, and raved accordingly in their religious and political assemblies with equal fury against the carnal-minded parliament and the grandees, as they now termed their own superior officers.

The regiment of Ardenne was perhaps the only one of the whole army, which had entirely resisted this contagion; for, having taken arms

many from personal attachment to their young leader, whose neighbours or whose tenants a great portion of them were-many from a sense of political oppression-but none from any feeling of fanaticism or religious fury (the most part being of the episcopal persuasion)—they looked on unconcerned, while their companions were indulging in the loudest tumults, and reposed all their trust in the high talents and integrity of their commander.

Oftentimes since the memorable evening of the intercepted letter, Cromwell and Ardenne had debated on the next step to be taken, and on the future prospects of their country! And both had often grieved at their inability to shape out any course, by which they might hope confidently to eschew the breakers, which they could see directly in their track. Both clearly saw that the King's union with the presbyterians could but be the beginning of a worse tyranny, both in the church and state, than that which they had overthrown;-and both saw likewise