angry. His grey eyes were piercing and soldier-like, yet I have seen
them lighten up into a kindly and merry twinkle. His voice was the most
tremendous and awe-inspiring that I have ever listened to. I can well
believe what I have heard, that when he chanted the Hundredth Psalm as
he rode down among the blue bonnets at Dunbar, the sound of him rose
above the blare of trumpets and the crash of guns, like the deep roll of
a breaking wave. Yet though he possessed every quality which was needed
to raise him to distinction as an officer, he had thrown off his
military habits when he returned to civil life. As he prospered and
grew rich he might well have worn a sword, but instead he would ever
bear a small copy of the Scriptures bound to his girdle, where other men
hung their weapons. He was sober and measured in his speech, and it was
seldom, even in the bosom of his own family, that he would speak of the
scenes which he had taken part in, or of the great men, Fleetwood and
Harrison, Blake and Ireton, Desborough and Lambert, some of whom had
been simple troopers like himself when the troubles broke out. He was
frugal in his eating, backward in drinking, and allowed himself no
pleasures save three pipes a day of Oronooko tobacco, which he kept ever
in a brown jar by the great wooden chair on the left-hand side of
the mantelshelf.

Yet for all his self-restraint the old leaven would at times begin to
work in him, and bring on fits of what his enemies would call fanaticism
and his friends piety, though it must be confessed that this piety was
prone to take a fierce and fiery shape. As I look back, one or two
instances of that stand out so hard and clear in my recollection that
they might be scenes which I had seen of late in the playhouse, instead
of memories of my childhood more than threescore years ago, when the
second Charles was on the throne.