On his deathbed the Protector had been asked to name his successor. Empowered by the "Petition and Advice," he had already named him in a sealed packet, which now, however, could not be found, and though he was supposed to say Richard, it was so indistinctly, that it was by no means certain. However, Richard was proclaimed in London and Westminster, and then in all the large towns at home, and in Dunkirk, and the colonies abroad. At first all appeared favourable for the peaceable succession of Richard. All parties hastened to congratulate him. Foreign ministers sent addresses of condolence and intimations of their desire to renew their alliances. From all parts of the country, and from the City, and from one hundred congregational churches, poured in addresses, conceived in the most fulsome affectation of religion. Cromwell had been a Moses, but his son was a Joshua. Elijah was gone, but Elisha remained. The Royalists were confounded to find everything pass over so smoothly, but all who knew the retiring disposition of Richard, and the volcano of raging materials which lay in the sects, factions, and parties which at that moment divided and agitated England, could only look on it as the lull before the tempest. Richard Cromwell had all his life long displayed a liking only for a quiet country life. He had no ambitions, either military or political. He had lived in his domestic retirement, entering neither the field nor the cabinet, and his father, in his letters, was continually calling him "indolent Dick." It was impossible that such a man could ever curb the fierce and conflicting factions with which he was surrounded; it is most probable that he only longed to be well rid of the whole onerous burden.