"Ever in the ascendant!" he said, casting his eyes on the star of his nativity, that shone brightest among the countless multitudes of night. "High, high, highest, and most powerful," he repeated, gazing upon his favourite planet with that extraordinary mixture of superstition and enthusiasm which formed so prominent a part of his most singular character. "I never saw thee brighter" (he continued) "save upon Naseby-field, when I watched thy pathway in the heavens, while hundreds of devoted soldiers couched around me, waiting the morrow's fight. I prayed beneath thy beam, which, as the Lord permitted, fell right upon my breast, glistening upon the bright and sturdy iron that openly, and in the sight of all men, covered it then--pouring into my heart courage, and confidence into my soul! Would that I might sleep the sleep of death upon that same field, that you might again watch over this poor body which now panteth for repose! Yea, there, under the turf of Naseby, shall my grave be made; there shall I sleep quietly--quietly--quietly--with thee to keep watch above the bed in which this poor body shall be at peace, when the ever-restless spirit is with Him whose right hand led me through the furnace, and made me what I am. Shine on still, bright star, even to the fulness of thy splendour; yea, the fulness of thy splendour, which is not yet come. Ah! well do I remember how you lingered in the grey dawn of morning, eager to behold my glory--my exceeding triumph upon that eventful field; and thou hast seen me greater than I dreamed of, great as I can be--or if I can be greater, to thee all is known, yea, all of the future as well as of the past is known to thee."