At this juncture Mr. Beard entered the library, and learning what had occurred, besought his patron not to be cast down, but to place his reliance upon that Power which had delivered him from so many difficulties and dangers.
“It is my son’s safety that concerns me most,” the old Cavalier groaned. “So he escape, I care not what becomes of me. But, ‘sdeath!” he cried, breaking out into fresh fury. “I should never have desired to quit my own domain, if the tyrannous Council had not made me a prisoner.”
He then paced to and fro within the room for some minutes, exclaiming, with much bitterness, “By Heaven! it is intolerable to be insulted thus in one’s own house. O what a land we live in! Everything seems at sixes and sevens. All honourable usages are at an end. Respect for age and station is gone. Fanaticism and hypocrisy usurp the place of religion and virtue, and he is esteemed the godliest man who can dissemble most, and best put on a sanctimonious visage and demeanour. Out on the pestilent knaves who have thus abolished all that was good in the country, and set up all that is bad—a low-born crew who would grind down all to their own base level!”
“Yet there are some good men among them, honoured sir,” Mr. Beard observed, “who have been influenced by worthy motives, and by love of their country, in what they have done.”
“I marvel to hear you say so, sir,” the old Cavalier rejoined. “Were the motives worthy of those bloody butchers who slaughtered their virtuous king? Are their motives worthy who have overthrown our Established Church, and set up the National Covenant in its stead? Are their motives worthy who persecute and despoil, outrage and insult in every way all those who have shown loyalty and devotion to their king, and zeal for the country’s welfare? Out upon them, I say!”
“I can make every allowance for your warmth, honoured sir, for you have much to move you to indignation,” the good clergyman said; “but I would not have you blind to the truth. Faults there have been in high places beyond doubt—grievous faults—else had not those who filled them been cast down. Deeply must the princes and mighty ones of the land have sinned, or the Lord would not have visited them so severely with His displeasure.”
“You seem to have caught the general infection, sir,” the old Cavalier observed, sarcastically, “and speak as by the mouth of Increase Micklegift.”
“I speak according to my conviction, my honoured patron, and I speak the more boldly, because I am well assured that it is only by acknowledgment of our errors, and resolution of amendment for the future, that we can turn aside Heaven’s wrath from against us. Such men as Cromwell are instruments of divine displeasure.”
“Name him not,” cried the colonel, vehemently; “or name him as the arch-hypocrite, the regicide and parricide that he is. But you are right. We must have deeply sinned, or we could not have been yielded to the dominion of such as Cromwell. O England! when will thy days of gloom be over?”
“When her offences are expiated,” the clergyman rejoined.
“Merry England men were wont to style thee when I was younger,” the colonel said, in a mournful tone; “but merry thou art no longer. Melancholy England were nearer the mark; sour England; distracted England; the England of Noll Cromwell and the saints. Heaven defend me from such a ruler, and such saints! Hearty, joyous, laughter-loving England thou art not. Men smile no longer within thy cities. Gaiety is punished as a crime, and places of pleasant resort are forbidden to thy youth. Upon thy broad breast sits the night-hag Puritanism, scaring away thy dreams of happiness, and filling thee with terrors. It is ill with thee, England. Wrong hath become right within thee—loyalty, treason—religion, an offence. Heaven grant thee a speedy deliverance from the wretched thraldom in which thou art placed!”
“I do not despair of England, sir,” Mr. Beard remarked.
“Neither do I,” the old Cavalier rejoined—”when Noll Cromwell shall be overthrown, and the monarchy restored. But, till that consummation arrives, I am much tempted to exile myself from her shores.”