too we count little Clement Walker, ‘in his gray suit with his little stick,’[1]—asking in the voice of the indomitablest terrier or Blenheim cocker, ‘By what Law? I ask again, By what Law?’ Whom no mortal will ever be able to answer. Such is the far-famed Purging of the House by Colonel Pride.
This evening, while the Forty-one are getting lodged in Mr. Duke’s, Lieutenant-General Cromwell came to Town. Pontefract Castle is not taken; he has left Lambert looking after that, and come up hither to look after more important things.
The Commons on Wednesday did send out to demand ‘the Members of this House’ from Colonel Pride; but Pride made respectful evasive answer;—could not, for the moment, comply with the desires of the Honourable House. On the Thursday Lieutenant-General Cromwell is thanked; and Pride’s Purge continues: new men of the Majority are seized; others scared away need no seizing;—above a Hundred in all;[2] who are sent into their countries, sent into the Tower; sent out of our way, and trouble us no farther. The Minority has now become Majority; there is now clear course for it, clear resolution there has for some time back been in it. What its resolution was, and its action that it did in pursuance thereof, ‘an action not done in a corner, but in sight of all the Nations, and of God who made the Nations’, we know, and the whole world knows!—
Dutch Dorislaus, the learned Doctor, late Judge-Advocate, employed in many weighty things, and soon to be employed in the weightiest, wants now a very small accommodation which is in the gift of certain Cambridge people. A busy Lieutenant-General, while the world-whirlwind is piping loud, has to write for him this small Note withal:
