0th of August, 1653, the man of
thirty-three victories, the old admiral who called himself the sailors'
grandfather, Martin Happertz van Tromp, who had beaten the Spanish, had
been destroyed by the English fleet. The Atlantic had been cleared of
the Spanish navy, the Pacific of the Dutch, the Mediterranean of the
Venetian, and by the patent of navigation, England had taken possession
of the sea-coast of the world. By the ocean she commanded the world; at
sea the Dutch flag humbly saluted the British flag. France, in the
person of the Ambassador Mancini, bent the knee to Oliver Cromwell; and
Cromwell played with Calais and Dunkirk as with two shuttlecocks on a
battledore. The Continent had been taught to tremble, peace had been
dictated, war declared, the British Ensign raised on every pinnacle. By
itself the Protector's regiment of Ironsides weighed in the fears of
Europe against an army. Cromwell used to say, "_I wish the Republic of
England to be respected, as was respected the Republic of Rome_." No
longer were delusions held sacred; speech was free, the press was free.
In the public street men said what they listed; they printed what they
pleased without control or censorship. The equilibrium of thrones had
been destroyed. The whole order of European monarchy, in which the
Stuarts formed a link, had been overturned. But at last England had
emerged from this odious order of things, and had won its pardon.

The indulgent Charles II. had granted the declaration of Breda. He had
conceded to England oblivion of the period in which the son of the
Huntingdon brewer placed his foot on the neck of Louis XIV. England said
its mea culpa, and breathed again. The cup of joy was, as we have just
said, full; gibbets for the regicides adding to the universal delight. A
restoration is a smile; but a few gibbets are not out of place, and
satisfaction is due to the conscience of the public. To be good subjects
was thenceforth the people's sole ambition. The spirit of lawlessness
had been expelled. Royalty was reconstituted. Men had recovered from the
follies of politics. They mocked at revolution, they jeered at the
republic, and as to those times when such strange words as _Right,
Liberty, Progress_, had been in the mouth--why, they laughed at such
bombast! Admirable was the return to common sense. England had been in a
dream. What joy to be quit of such errors! Was ever anything so mad?
Where should we be if every one had his rights?