the speech he had carefully conned.  “Sir, I shall not trouble you with large narratives,” he said; “only give me leave to acquaint you that, as I marched from Scotland hither, I observed the people in most counties in great and earnest expectations of Settlement, and they made several applications to me, with numerous subscriptions.  The chiefest heads of their desires were:—­for a free and full Parliament, and that you would determine your sitting; a Gospel Ministry; encouragement of Learning and Universities; and for admittance of the members secluded before 1648, without any previous oath or engagement.  To which I commonly answered, That you are now in a free Parliament, and, if there were any force remaining upon you, I would endeavour to remove it; and that you had voted to fill up your House, and then you would be a full Parliament also...; but, as for those gentlemen secluded in 1648, I told them you had given judgment in it and all people ought to acquiesce in that judgment; but to admit any members to sit in Parliament without a previous oath or engagement to secure the Government in being, it was never yet done in England.  And, although I said it not to them, I must say it with pardon to you, that the less oaths and engagements are imposed (with respect had to the security of the common cause) your settlement will be the sooner attained to.”  He was now half through his speech; and the rest consisted of general recommendations of a policy in accordance with “the sober interest,” with care that “neither the Cavalier nor Fanatic party” should have a share of the civil or military power.  He ended with a glance at Ireland and Scotland, bespeaking particular attention to the Scots, as “a nation deserving much to be cherished,” and sure to appreciate the late declaration in favour of a sober and conservative Church policy, inasmuch as no nation more dreaded “to be overrun with fanatic notions.”  Having thus delivered himself, Monk withdrew, leaving the House wholly mystified, but also a good deal distempered, by his ambiguities.  It seems to have been on this occasion that Henry Marten vented that witty description of Monk which is one of the best even of his good sayings.  “Monk,” he said, “is like a man that, being sent for to make a suit of clothes, should bring with him a budget full of carpenter’s tools, and, being told that such things were not at all fit for the work he was desired to do, should answer, ‘It matters not; I will do your work well enough, I warrant you.’” Monk was now on the spot with his budget of carpenter’s tools, and he meant to make a tolerable suit of clothes with them somehow.[1]

[Footnote 1:  There is a hiatus in the Journals at the point of Monk’s reception and speech in the House; but the speech was printed separately, and is given in the Parl.  Hist.  III. 1575-7.  The original authority for Henry Marten’s witticism is, I believe, Ludlow (810-811).]