were of as frequent recurrence as those of military duty;[1] in council, the officers always opened the proceedings with extemporary prayer; and to implore with due solemnity the protection of the Lord of Hosts, was held an indispensable part of the preparation for battle. Their cause they considered the cause of God; if they fought, it was for his glory; if they conquered, it was by the might of his arm. Among these enthusiasts, Cromwell, as he held the first place in rank, was also pre-eminent in spiritual gifts.[2] The fervour with which he prayed, the unction with which he preached, excited their admiration and tears. They looked on him as the favourite of God, under the special guidance of the Holy Spirit, and honoured with communications from heaven; and he, on his part, was careful, by the piety of his language, by the strict decorum of his court, and by his zeal for the diffusion of godliness, to preserve and strengthen such impressions. In minds thus disposed, it was not difficult to create a persuasion that the final triumph of “their cause” depended on the authority of the general under whom they had conquered; while the full enjoyment of that religious freedom which they so highly prized rendered them less jealous of the arbitrary power which he occasionally
[Footnote 1: “The discipline of the army was such that a man would not be suffered to remain there, of whom we could take notice he was guilty of such practices.”—Cromwell’s speech to parliament in 1654. It surprised strangers.—Certa singulis diebus tum fundendis Deo precibus, tum audiendis Dei praeconiis erant assignata tempora.—Parallelum Olivae apud Harris, iii. 12. E certo ad ogni modo, che le Truppe vivono con tanta esatezza, come se fossero fraterie de’ religiosi.—Sagredo, MS.]
[Footnote 2: Religioso al estremo nell’ esteriore, predica con eloquenza ai soldati, li persuade a vivere secondo le legge d’ Iddio, e per render piu efficace la persuasione, si serve ben spesso delle lagrime, piangendo piu li peccati altrui, che li proprii.—Ibid. See also Ludlow, iii. 111.]
assumed. In his public speeches, he perpetually reminded them that, if religion was not the original cause of the late civil war, yet, God “soon brought it to that issue;” that amidst the strife of battle, and the difficulties and dangers of war, the reward to which they looked was freedom of conscience; that this freedom to its full extent they enjoyed under his government, though they could never obtain it till they had placed the supreme authority in his hands.[1] The merit which he thus arrogated to himself was admitted to be his due by the great body of the saints; it became the spell by which he rendered them blind to his ambition and obedient to his will; the engine with which he raised, and afterwards secured, the fabric of his greatness.