“Thou speakest well, beauteous maiden. Mortality is a great lesson, but immortality is one greater and more useful. Mortality teaches us to trace our connections and relatives in the worm. But immortality in God and angels! Sin brought the first to light, but Christ the other.” They all joined in singing a psalm. Mary Evelyn’s sweet voice, with its low and tremulous sounds, occasionally induced Cromwell to be silent and listen, while he kindly placed his hand upon hers. He next read a portion of Scripture,--one of the Psalms--which he afterwards commented upon, in his address to Parliament, as Lord Protector of the Commonwealth. He then knelt down on the grass and prayed, “Father above, we come to thee! We now bow at thy feet: soon we shall lie in thine arms! Far above us, still thou hidest not thy face. Excuse us in this act of adoration, for opening our eyes to see the heavens, and for sinking our hands on the ground to feel thy footstool. The moon and the stars may not arise, but the clouds which conceal them, tell their tale. The flowers of the earth may have withered, but the clods of the valley, beneath which their fair young forms are buried, take their place, and speak to us of thee!” Here he paused, as if overcome by the greatness of the Being whom he addressed. But soon it was the strong republican who prayed, and he raved about Israel; Israel’s God, and himself the deliverer of both, as he presumed. When he had concluded, he abruptly arose and left them. They followed him into the house, after a few minutes, but he had gone to his apartment for the night. As long however as they themselves were awake, they heard him walking up and down. * * * * * On the following morning, the sun was not earlier in arising upon the turrets of Lancaster Castle, than were the soldiers of the garrison. They were in armour, and the cannons were all charged and manned. The Governor was walking about to every post and every circle, encouraging them to do their duty to the king and country. His eyes were occasionally turned to the vale where Cromwell’s troops were encamped. “Do they yet move,” said a noble youth who now approached. “Father, shall we able to hold out a siege against such a famed general?” “Is my son a traitor,” bitterly asked the governor. “If he be, then my first duty of vengeance is against him. No! a king has blessed thee, and wouldst thou fight against him who once took thee, an infant, in his royal arms, and swore that thou wert like thy beautiful mother? Thy mother! Ha, the subject and the name are unfit for me. Let me not think of them.” “Father,” proudly replied the youth, “thou doest me wrong. Not only my sword, but my very life is pledged for the king’s interest. But to war with Cromwell is to war with destiny. He can pray and he can fight.”