"I, or rather the Lord, require of you that you walk in all peaceableness and gentleness, inoffensiveness, truth, and love towards them, as becomes the servants and Churches of Christ--knowing well that Jesus Christ, of whose diocese both they and you are, expects it; who, when He comes to gather His people and to make Himself 'a name and praise amongst all the people of the earth,' He 'will save her that halteth, and gather her that was driven out, and will get them praise and fame in every land where they have been put to shame.' And such 'lame ones' and 'driven-out ones' were not the Independents only, and Presbyterians, a few years since, by the Popish and prelatical party in these nations; but such are and have been the Protestants in all lands, persecuted and faring alike with you, in all the reformed Churches. And therefore, knowing your charity to be as large as all the flock of Christ who are of the same hope and faith of the Gospel with you, I thought fit to commend these few words to you, being well assured it is written in your heart, so to do with this, that I shall stand by you in the maintaining of all your just privileges to the uttermost."[133] The Christian spirit which breathes through this epistle commands our sympathy and admiration. Every line testifies to that gentle love for all the true disciples of Jesus Christ--which grew like a tender flower, which gushed like a limpid stream, for the refreshment of his friends, out of the depths of a strong and rugged nature such as made Cromwell a terror to his enemies.
The other noticeable letter despatched from his Highness's Cabinet about the same time, was intended for no other hands than those of the renowned Cardinal Mazarin, the prime minister of France--in answer to his Eminence's request for the toleration of Catholics in England.
"The obligations, and many instances of affection," says Cromwell, "which I have received from your Eminency, do engage me to make returns suitable to your merits. But although I have this set home upon my spirit, I may not (shall I tell you I cannot?) at this juncture of time, and as the face of my affairs now stands, answer to your call for toleration (of Catholics here). I say I cannot, as to a public declaration of my sense in that point; although I believe that under my Government your Eminency, in the behalf of Catholics, has less reason for complaint as to rigour upon men's consciences than under the Parliament. For I have of some, and those very many, had compassion, making a difference. Truly I have (and I may speak it with cheerfulness in the presence of God, who is a witness within me to the truth of what I affirm) made a difference; and, as Jude speaks, 'plucked many out of the fire'--the raging fire of persecution, which did tyrannize over their consciences, and encroached by an arbitrariness of power upon their estates. And herein it is my purpose, as soon as I can remove impediments, and some weights that press me down, to make a farther progress, and discharge my promise to your Eminency in relation to that."[134] Cromwell did what many rulers do. Without having an intolerant law repealed, he relaxed its execution. The time was not ripe for perfect religious liberty. Cromwell understood its broad principles better than Mazarin; but it was not given to the Protector, as it has been to his posterity, to see the entire breadth of their practical application. The letter shews some respect for the consciences of Catholics; but it indicates, in the way of conceding liberty to that class of religionists, difficulties over which at the time the writer had no control. Evidently he was prepared to advance rather than recede in his liberal treatment of a class of persons who, by the common consent of almost all Protestants, were excluded from the enjoyment of the political privileges of citizenship.