Monk wisely took no more notice of the information than to display his force by lining the way from Whitehall to Westminster with a "triumphant guard" as on Monday he went down in state to receive the thanks of Parliament. Scot had told him that a declaration of his devotion to the House and his dislike of the addresses was expected. It was a trying ordeal, but his blunt honesty took him through. A chair of state had been placed for him at the bar, but he refused to sit, as unbecoming a servant of the Parliament. Standing he received the fulsome vote of thanks, and then leaning over the back of the chair, he made his modest acknowledgments, protesting he had done no more than his duty. As though he were making an official report of matters in which he had no personal concern, he told them that on his way to town he had observed the country to be very anxious for a settlement, and that a number of addresses had been presented to him. The demands they contained and his own unexceptionable answers were summarised with soldier-like brevity. "But although I said it not to them," he continued, "I must say (with pardon) to you; that the less oaths and engagements are imposed (with respect had to the security of the common cause) the sooner your settlement will be attained to.... I know all the sober gentry will close with you if they may be tenderly and gently used. And I am sure you will so use them; as knowing it to be the common concern to amplify and not lessen our interest, and to be careful that neither the Cavalier nor the Fanatic party have a share in your civil or military power." In conclusion he respectfully called attention to the advisability of confirming the land-grants of the Irish soldiers and adventurers, and of settling several points for the better and more equable administration of Scotland. Nothing could have been done better. The immediate effect of the speech was an immense increase in Monk's popularity. The conservative Republicans were delighted at his deferential demeanour; their ladies, returning from Mrs. Monk's reception at Whitehall, approved her sweetmeats, and complacently noted how she had helped them to wine with her own hand; while the country at large read the general's speech as a threat to the oligarchy which oppressed it. The city was enthusiastic, for not only did it begin to doubt the sincerity of his devotion to the Rump, but by his conclusion about Ireland the capitalists saw in him their champion. And, as we have seen, at such a crisis the capitalists had then the same peculiar influences which they have exercised under similar conditions in more modern times.