; and of preserving those social feelings of general
good-will, which, to austere dispositions, render even prosperity
distasteful.

[1] Many of these circumstances are copied from the death of
Cromwell.

CHAP. XXV.

"See Cromwell damn'd to everlasting fame."

Pope.

It was at this period that Cromwell underwent that memorable struggle
between his ambition and his fears, which ultimately preserved the
monarchy of England in the line of legitimate descent. He tampered with
all parties, and found none hearty in his cause: the best-disposed to
his interests were only passive; but his enemies were implacable. The
popularity of a pamphlet recommending his assassination upon principle,
and declaring that the perpetrator of the deed would deserve the favour
of God and man, destroyed every vestige of his comfort. "He read it, and
was never seen to smile more." With late repentance for his vanity,
which prompted him to excite such furious opposition, he pushed from him
the crown he had courted, when offered by his creatures; but he did it
with an affectation of disdain and self-command, that ill accorded with
his former intrigues to obtain it. All his anxiety was now directed to
the preservation of his joyless life. He had long worn light armour
under his clothes, and carried pistols in his pockets. He seldom lay
twice in the same chamber, or informed any one which apartment he meant
to select. He travelled with extreme rapidity, attended by numerous
guards, and never returned by the way he went. Yet no sooner was one
conspiracy detected, than another was formed; the fanatics were
irreconcileable, and the most worthy and eminent among the dissenters
determined on his overthrow. His old military comrades, Fairfax and
Waller, were bent to destroy him. His treasury was drained by the
rapacity of his numerous spies; and as fines and exactions had been
strained to the utmost, he had no means of replenishing it but by a
recourse to measures similar to those which had overthrown the monarchy;
for his fanatical puppet-shows had brought the name of Parliament into
contempt, and he durst not appeal to the free voice of the nation. I
have already mentioned the disunion of his family, and the desertion of
his kindred and near alliances. Such were the accumulated miseries, such
the soul-harrowing and unremitting sufferings, of this man, whom Europe
considered as the