A PANEGYRIC On the Most Auspicious and long-wished-for Return OF The Great EXAMPLE of the Greatest Virtue, The FAITHFUL ACHATES Of Our ROYAL CHARLES, AND The Tutelar Angel (as we justly hope) of our CHURCH and STATE, The Most Illustrious JAMES Duke, Marquess, and Earl of ORMOND, etc. Lord Lieutenant and General Governor of His Majesty's Kingdom of Ireland, His Grace. BY F. S. Nemo confidet nimium secundis Nemo desperet Meliora lapsis. Seneca. — Deus nobis haec otia fecit. Virg. Dublin, Printed by John Crook, Printer to the Kings most Excellent Majesty, for Sam. Dancer, Bookseller in Castlestreet. A Panegyric To the Most Illustrious JAMES Duke, Marquess, and Earl of ORMOND. Lord Lieutenant, and General Governor of His MAJESTY'S KINGDOM of IRELAND, His GRACE. TO speak Your Welcome (most Illustrious Sir) in as high a Key as our Hearts conceive it, is as nigh a kin to an impossibility, as to speak Your Merit: The one, the unkind Fate of our feeble Organs deny us to reach unto, the other the expanded Glory of Your Heroic Actions, and the unexemplared Magnanimity of Your Great Soul, will not admit. Yet herein do we find our Wants reprized, whilst Heaven sweetly indulging our Inabilities, looks on the Quality, not Quantity of our Returns, and from an humble grateful Heart, values the cheerful Sacrifice of a pair of Mites, more than the hidden-Treasures of the lower World. If Heaven then be so propitious to the incurable Malady of our Natures, how can we despair of a candid Acceptation from You who are her Favourite, and One who in the various Assaults of the most imminent Dangers, and severest Temptations, have born the signal Impress and Character of her Love and Favour. Were not this true, this happy hour had ne'er been ours, that now seems to secure our Harvest of Joy for our Seed of Tears, and Promises us as much of Earthly Felicity, as can possibly be expected under the best of Kings, and the best of Subjects. Think not then (most redoubted Sir) our Duties Flattery, nor the dilated Joys of our Loyal Hearts, a Design upon Your Power: Let those that juggle with their Allegiance, that Obey because 'tis not safe for them to Rebel, and love their King, Religion and Laws, because they dare not do otherwise, feel the smart Effects of that; whilst we lose ourselves in the Contemplation of that Blessing we have received; a Blessing of that miraculous Magnitude, that our Posterity must have the Influence, We only the Wonder. Thus Zion's Captivity when reversed, became a Dream, being (like ours) so far above their Merit, or their Expectation, that it was above the Capacity of their subtlest Faculty to believe it Real. Contraries put together (saith the Philosopher) are their own best Illustration, and if we be not afraid to look back upon our former Bondage, it may perhaps endear the Blessing of our Redemption the more unto us, by how much we despaired of ever seeing it effected. What rigid Stoic can reflect on our past Distractions, without Distraction? Three Kingdoms which for Riches, Strength and Policy, were no way inferior to the greatest of Europe, how have we seen (like Joseph) sold to Uncircumcised Ishmaelites, and their Beauteous Garments (their Cities, Temples, and fertile Fields, like his Coat) died in the Blood of their own Children? How have we seen Religion degenerate from its Primitive Simplicity, and the ravishing Beauty of its Celestial Features, vitiated with the Paint and Fucus of our own Frantic Imaginations? How have we seen the Arms of the Church, from Preces and Lachrymae, converted into Sword and Pistol, the Pulpit, by its Bloody and Sophistical Oratory, seeming to reinvest the lying Author, or the Father of Lies, in his lost Oracles? How have we seen the Face of Majesty bespattered with the virulent Poison of the Tongue, and Asps, the sworn Subject of His Crown and Sceptre? How have we seen our now Glorious Master belied by those that began the second Massacre of Innocents', but something bloodier than that of Herod's, when they made the credulous World believe, they had the Royal Assent for their unheardof Cruelties? How have we seen Him sold, Cum petiit, Fato supplice, nudus, opem. And such a Master, that his price was far above Rubies, or the Gold of Ophir? How have we seen him murdered, and the Parricide afterward justified by a Law? A Crime so opposite to to Nature and Humanity, that a Heathen Lawgiver could not conceive, the thought of it could enter into the Heart of Man, much less the perpetration, and therefote made no Law against it. Nun haec sufficiunt? Is not this Impiety enough for one Age? Yet we may say, as the Queen of Sheba, of that great King's Wisdom, Ecce non indicatum est nobis dimidium, We have but a part, though a large one, of our enlarged Sorrows. Methinks I hear a Voice behind me, ask where were those Teneri Agnelli, the surviving Hope and Props of the mourning Diadem; Though the Hand of Violence had seized the Life of the Father, yet Hae Oviculae quid fecerunt? What had They done to be Disfranchised from their Royal Right? Where was than CHARLES the Little, now greater than Charles the Great, but like young Joash, hid in the Temple of Divine Providence, from the merciless Hands of a cruel Usurper? Where were those Twin-Reserves of the British Crown, but seeking Protection in a Foreign Air, whilst their Unnatural Nurse bestows her Milk upon the Bastards of her Lust at Home? Where went the Widowed Mother, but to the Solitary Grove of a Recluse Life, there to bewail Her Glorious Prince's Fate, and her children's Danger? Where lay the Honest Man, when the Artifice of Hell was invoked to Unrivet his Allegiance? What Oaths, Rapines, Murders, Sacrileges, did every Day present us with? Nay what gross Impiety was there (if it had a name) that wanted a Professor? Peaceable and Inoffensive Carriage, and as Innocent as the Doves, would not be trusted without a Perjury: The demolishing of Churches was nothing, without shaking the Foundation of the People's Faith: The Estates of Gentry and Nobility, without their Blood and Exile; nay the Crown itself, without the Life of the Prince, of little value.— What Hyperbolical Crimes were here? Such as— Vix novit Ethnicus vel publicanus. Yet these, and more, (most Renowned Sir) if more can be imagined, Your Grace too sensibly knows to be the sad Product of our late Confusions. But why do we grate Your Ears with the Repetition of our past Miseries, and instead of welcoming You ashore, afflict Your Eyes with the Landscape of Your own Shipwreck? Against such melancholy Entertainment, though from the fair Hands of a Beauteous Queen, we find a great Reluctancy in the most courtly Trojan, Infandum, Regina, jubes, etc. Yet as that Noble Prince would rather cruciate his own Soul, then disoblige so sweet a Lady, that loved him the more passionately for his Sufferings: So we (my Lord) do hope that You, whom we equally love for Yours, will not only pardon us for what we have done, but from the General, give us leave to touch at those Particulars that concern this Kingdom; if for no other Reason, yet because it has been the Theatre of Your own Misfortunes, and that without an olim meminisse of what we have suffered by your long-mourn'd-for Absence, we shall hardly with Moderation manage that Joy and Contentation, Your longed-for Presence has brought amongst us. Be pleased then to remember (most Excellent Sir) when our Royal Master of Glorious Memory, pricked at the Heart for the sad Calamities of this Bleeding Kingdom, had sought by all means possible, by stopping the Flux of her bloody Issue, to restore her to her former Health; and after a strict and earnest search, found no way properer than to put her under the Tuition and Care of an Able and Faithful Physician: How welcome, how generally applauded was His Royal Choice, when he pitched upon Your Grace as the fittest Person for so Knotty and Mysterious a Piece of Service. And if it be not a Sin to speak Truth, What was there wanting in that Election (if we had not been wanting to ourselves, and frowardly spurned our own Happiness) that might give a Disgust, to the most cross-grained Humorist? Was High Blood, flowing from the Veins of as Noble, as Ancient Progenitors, inferior to no Subject, and that without the least Attainder of Disloyalty for so many Hundreds of Years, of no consideration? Were rare Endowments of Mind, (the special Marks and Tokens, whereby wise Kings choose Instruments for their most weighty Services) as Wisdom to Contrive, Courage and Resolution to Execute, Sweetness and Affability to Invite and Win, Bounty and Clemency to Reward and Cherish; and a just Fidelity that crowns all the rest of the Sister-Graces, of no Value nor Estimation? Yet these and many other Ornaments of no common Lustre, (most Noble Sir) which the unblinded part of the Kingdom saw like Celestial Diamonds made up the Constellation of Your Gallant Soul, could not with their Harmonious Influence, charm the Serpentine Spirit of that froward Age.— May we be so bold to examine — Quae causa indigna serenos Faedavit vultus? What it was that re-immerged this unfortunate Island, when her Head began to appear above the Deluge her own Blood had made? What it was that made You (my Lord) who had so freely sacrificed the Life of Your Estate as well as Person, in her Vindication, to be the Object of her foul Ingratitude, as the murmuring against Your Power at that time, must necessarily infer. We confess (Sir) when we think on You, and the winning Candour and attractive Sweetness of Your Nature, we are all Wonder; but when we cast the Nature of Treason, and of those State-Insidiaries that then lay in wait to rob us of our Peace and Satisfaction, our Wonder ceaseth. For 'tis no new thing to see Machiavil confute St. Austin, and Modern Policy to laugh at Christian Simplicity, and the Innocence of Obedience; though an indifferent Eye may through the Prospective of a Rash Enterprise, see the just Fate of Phaeton and Icarus in the foolish Undertakers. We need not trouble ourselves much in the search; It was because we distasted Your Vice-Regencie over us; And what was the Reason of that? Because You (my Lord) would have had us Christian Subjects, that is, so obedient to our Religion and Laws, as not to be our own Carvers, and slain with an Hot and Unwarranted Prosecution, what before was Ennobled with a Matchless Innocence and Justice, our Cause and Quarrel: A Cause that a good Christian would have gloried more to have suffered wrongfully in, than we have since unjustly to have fought in: A Cause that History itself could not produce a better, nor a good One so much abused. But where Ambition and Covetousness pretend under the Veil of Piety (like the Jesuits in the Indies) the Cure of our Distempers we may be sure to find them worse. For where were the Symptoms of our Destruction more apparent, then in that grand Exigence of Affairs, when Ingratitude and Disloyalty affronted CAESAR, and CAESAR's Image (for so You were then, most Worthy Sir) aspersing the Paternal Care of the one, and the Loyal Duty and Fidelity of the other, with the bitterest Invectives Malice could invent, or Madness durst publish. Was not the Act of Cessation (all the Hope we had to recruit our lost Breach and Strength) cried down as a Design against the English Interest? Though a more probable means to preserve the Remnant of our Brethren that had escaped, could not be found, then in the nick of time to stop the Bloody Hands of their Powerful and Desperate Pursuers. Yet this was the Divinity then of the raving Pulpit, but so Haeretically Calumnious, (as it hath since plainly appeared) that I might as rationally conceive that Man mine Enemy that should interpose his Life between my Safety, and the Fury of an Enraged Lion. Surely those shrill Trumpets of Sedition, those Mushrome-Levites, sprung up in a Night, Matriculated, Graduated and Ordained all in a Breath, had very much forgot themselves, when in their Clamorous Devotions, they set forth their Condition in such pity-craving Terms, calling Themselves a Flock of Kids, an Handful, One to a Thousand; but their Adversaries, the Children of Anak for Proportion, and for number like the Grasshoppers of the Field; not considering that those Allegations (if true) were the only Motives, that induced the King to compass that Act of Accommodation. So that next the Sin of those that made the Fire, theirs must needs be, that kept it in with the violent Breath of Frowardness and Dissension, and prolonged the War by obstructing those Aids that were then intended, and which (very likely) if legally followed, had soon put a period to the Force and Heat of that Unparallelled Rebellion. But such a Preposterous and Unevangelical Zeal (they are the Royal Martyrs own Words) as some Men were then endued with, could not endure any allay of Moderation, but had rather be counted Cruel then Cold; the Confiscation of the Irish Estates being more Beneficial than the Charity of Saving their Lives, or Reforming their Errors. Well! They had their Will, and the Cheat succeeded. The King's Angelical Disposition could deny them nothing, whom he thought Friends to Truth, and really touched with the Severity of this Kingdoms Sufferings. The Throne shall do Homage to the Footstool, and the Indispensable Jewels of the Crown, shall be engaged for their Satisfaction. But what do we find to be the Fruit of this Royal Bounty? Why the very same that a Graceless Child most commonly returns an Indulgent Parent, to grow the Worse, the Better he is used; and to gratify his Sordid Lusts, and Unworthy Desires, prefers the Gold and the Estate, before either the Life, or the Honour of the Unfortunate Father. — Mutato nomine de quibus fabula? Who more obliged than we? Who less concerned? What Monarch (like ours) did ever divest himself of his Prerogative, to please the humour of a peevish and unreasonable people? How injuriously was the Sword of Justice wrested out of that hand that knew its temper and its use, and (like the Chariot of the Sun) entrusted into those hands, whose furious driving discovered their ineptitude and unskilfulness to manage it. How generous was his Charity, that stripped himself to clothe a naked Army? and how brave his recompense to have his precious life in danger to be made the interest of his Courtesy? What did ever that sweet Lady do (whose rare and constant virtue her very enemies admired, and whose desert they wanted power to reward) that she must Petition for a subsistence out of her own Fortune, and with a great deal of difficulty obtain the tithe? Wherein did ever the hopeful Branches of your noble Family merit a deprivation of their maintenance, whose tender years as well as inclinations, seemed to plead their innocency before God and Man? And for a Close, what did ever your Excellency act (while chief among us) that might disoblige the meanest person, though scarce worth an obligation, but what the Laws of God, Nature, and Humanity have imprinted in the heart of every man that's Master of his Reason? Where then lies our Gratitude, or where are but our Footsteps of a real acknowledgement of our being faulty? No (My Lord) when we once shake hands with desperation (that is) when we have finned beyond Pardon and Reprieve, that reprobate Axiom will prove current Divinity; Scelera sceleribus tuenda, too demonstrative in that Mirror of Princes, who when he had given all He had to satisfy their hellish Appetites, must give His Life at last, to make their Policy and Villainy the more exquisite and complete: What else did they do (in Lieu of all the Kindnesses they received) but assist at the Horrid Sacrifice of the Prince of Martyrs, their Lord and Master, and (notwithstanding their seeming disrelishes of that unpresidented Act) enthroned the Regicide, and after his death, owned the Legal Succession of the Crown in that Poor-spirited Impostor his Son Dick, with as much zeal and faithfulness, as a Loyal Subject would his Lawful Prince. Now by this We may see, what Goodness, Virtue, and Honesty must expect, when ever Treason Usurps the Chair of State. Lucerna and Piedmont may be objects of Compassion, but it is mistaken Charity to allow Loyalty a Penny, either abroad or at home. Though (truly) I am apt to believe they were not much more the better for't than we; For it is a true Doctrine, though a rebellious Principle, That he that dares break up his Master's Treasury to back his Treachery, will not scruple much to rob the poor man's Box. Poor Ireland can witness this too well, whose condition once would have extorted pity from the Frozen Breast of the most Savage Scythian, though it had but little from her nearest Neighbour: A large Relief (We know) England had designed her, but how it was disposed of, they know best that armed the Traitor and disarmed the King. 'Twould ask a longer time than a Winter's tale, to particularise the several Ingredients that Amasse our Sorrows; We may give't in brief— We were the Sons of Sorrow. But now! But now! (Heaven have the Praise and Honour) We find our Filiation transverted, the enlivening Beams of Your delightful Presence (most honoured Sir) Re-creating us the Legitimate Sons of Joy and Cheerfulness. Since then the Director (whither out of Love to You, or Compassion to Us, we will not dispute) has brought You Home again, and maugre all the Stratagems of Hell and Darkness, has settled You in greater Honour than ever, upon that Ground, which but a few Months ago, it had been Treason for You, or any of Yours to have put Your Foot upon. Forget not (O Beloved and most Welcome Sir) the greatness of the Obligation: Remember whose Hand it is, and whose hand alone, that has once again given You to Us, and Us to You. Be as You were ever, verè Romanus, ever Victorious, Victorious over Yourself, yet nec victoriâ elatus nec infortunio dejectus. 'Twere a saucy Folly to dare to assume the Liberty to Advise Your Grace in any thing, Your own Quick and Judicious Eye, being able to penetrate beyond our weak Conceptions and mean Capacities. But seeing the Greatest Emperor of the East, though in the Head of an Invincible Army, rejected not the well-meant Intelligence of a poor Shepherd's Boy; We hope we may without Offence presume to offer a little of what we know, to Your Grace's Eye, our Design being no other but the tender Care and Love we have of Your Grace's Honour. We are then Your Humble Supplicants (most Welcome Sir) That You would distinguish between Your Real, and Your pretended Friends: And though the Convert may be justly deserving, yet not to think that Soul that has had a Mischance, to be as as that, that amongst so many pressing Temptations has kept her Virginity Pure and Immaculate. Above all, (my Gracious Lord) we hope You will not let Loyalty, like a neglected Orphan, languish in a Corner, or like Lazarus, find more Charity from Dogs than Men, Whilst Rebellion Revels in her Glorious Possessions, and like Dives, pampers herself with the Choice Delicates of this World's Revenue. Nor would we have You (my Lord) to draw the Sword and throw away the Scabbard: 'Tis the Traitor's Maxim, That. Throw away Clemency, and throw away one of the Most splended Jewels of Your Nature, Fide, sed Cui, Vide. Let not the fawning Smiles, nor the obsequious Flexures of the Man of the Times any more beguile You; nor let any Man persuade You to the contrary, but that he that Rebels to Acquire an Estate, will Rebel to Keep it; And that this new Way of Curing Rebellion by Rewarding it, a contrary Way to what it was in former Times, will without Doubt tempt itching Posterity to imitate their Forefathers. But stop awhile! I fear we have rebelled in our Address, and have committed Treason against the Truth. If we have, we shall lay claim to no other Reward, but that of Pardon, and (like the condemned Person) return our Thankfulness in our Heartiest Devotions, for that Liberal Hand that gives it, and that Tutelary Angel that conveys it to us, GOD SAVE THE KING! Let Him live the Joy and Wonder of the whole Earth: Let Heaven be His Guardian to keep Him from the Hand of Violence, and let the Holy Angels be the Attendants of His Bedchamber: Let His Fair Queen be the joyful Mother of a Race of Princes, that the Royal Line in that Family may have no end, but when all things must end. May Your Grace (whose Constant and Unspotted Faith to Your Exiled Master, stands an Indelible Monument to after-Ages) have as ample a Reward as Earth can give here, or Heaven hereafter! And may a heavy Curse light on the ill-working Pates of those that shall ever go about to dissolve that reunion so happily confirmed between You and Yours! May the Good Fortune of Your Noble Ancestor, who (as our Irish Chronicles report) had the Sun his Companion in Arms, and signal Part-Taken in that Great Battle against O Connor, standing still three Hours, and casting such dazzling Light in the Face of His Army, that he left his Life a Satisfaction for his Treason, and the Conquest of his Army a special Feather in the Triumphant Plume of that Victorious Earl, always attend You; May the Sun & Moon, the Stars in their Courses, & all those refined Bodies that have an Influence upon us, fight against all those that fight against You! May all that's Good, love You, and Evil fear You! But may the KING delight in You, and You in Him, and We in You Both! May all Enmity be laid aside, and every Blessing that shall hereafter befall Us, bear its Date from the seven and twentieth of July, the Happy Day of Poor IRELAND's RESTAURATION. Sic precatur FRANCIS SING. FINIS.