THE IDEA of His Highness OLIVER,

LATE LORD PROTECTOR, &c.

With certain brief Reflexions on His Life.

By RICHARD FLECKNO, Esq.

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LONDON, Printed Anno MDCLIX.

TO HIS HIGHNESS RICHARD, Lord Protector, &c.

My Lord,

THose who write Books ought to have more regard to their leisures who read them, then to their own in writing them; this makes me so short in writing this unto your Highnesse, which so declares (in passing) the life and actions of your Highnesse Father (of glori­ous [Page] memory) as there is scarce any remarkable passage in his life, which if it touches not, it points not at, at least; a subject which I am so far from elevating above its height, as all my forces can scarcely su­stain its weight; nor did this deice me from undertaking it, muchless the enemies I under­took war against in writing it.

For the war of Pens con­tinues longer then the war of Swords, and grows commonly more sharp and cruel after death, until time gives the deciding blow at last, and fame alwayes determines it [Page] for the conquering side: Mean time his Fame has two Ene­mies to provide against; the E­nemies of his party, & the E­nemies of his person. The first so noble, it honors vertue even in an Enemy; the last so base, as it calumniates it in all, and against these chiefly I under­take this war; neither is the Age, then Vertue, less con­cern'd in it; for whilst every one judges according to their own affections and inclinati­ons; and the young interpret all to Vitiousness, as the old all to Interest, Policy, and Ambition: we shall (in time) need a Dictionary for Acti­ons [Page] as well as Words, or else the Language of Truth will be wholly lost, and Posterity well may doubt whe'r there ever were any such thing as Vertue and Honesty in the Age. To vindicate and clear it from which Aspertion, I have writ this Treatise, to let Posterity know, that as there wanted not some in this Age to do brave and noble things, so there wanted not others to celebrate and honour them.

And this Fame 'tis which is the better life of all He­roick persons; for short is the space they live in their [Page] Bodies here, but immense that they live hereafter in their Fames; which life, only wri­ters can bestow; nor can Time hang more plummets on their feet to weigh them down unto oblivion, then writers pens add wings unto their Fames to raise them up again; to which, if mine may add any thing amongst the rest, it will be rather my glory, then any addition unto his:

But I forget, and destroy with one hand what I would build up with tother, in being so long in the Epistle whilst I intend brevity in the work. I end then my Lord, [Page] with the profession and pro­testation of being always

Your Highness Most humble Servant, and most obedient Subject. Rich. Fleckno.

PROEMIUM TO THE IDEA.

AN Idea is a Creature of the mind. In the Artificer it regards the future; but in the Writer, both the present and passed time. It is not the matter, but the form; nor the body, but the spirit and quin­tesence. It is more in substance then in bulke; and gives you flow­ers, not simply, but Alembeck't and distill'd; and Gold, not in the Or, but purified and refin'd. Such an Abstract Essence I give you of his Highness, Oliver late Lord Pro­tector▪ [Page] on whose life I make no other Reflections, then as we doe on Pictures excellent well design'd, remarking onely the Proportions in generall, without examining each Lineament in particular. Expect of me then no circumstan­ces of time, place, nor persons▪ that is for those who write the Annales and History of his life. I onely write his Elogiums, they shew you the things he did; I, the man who did those things.

Mean time, I undertake a work (I know) displeasing and ungrate­full to the multitude, naturally envious and malicious; and more taken with one Satyr then twenty Elogiums; pleas'd rather with the imperfections then perfections of men. Like Flies, leaving sound places to light on soars; and such venomous ones, as they even render sound places soar with their fly-blowing them. Yet this [Page] in spight of envy and malice Ile say of him, That a Greater and more Excellent personage has no where been produc't by this lat­ter Age; nor (perhaps) in our Nation by any former ones. And if men anciently have been judg­ed fit for Empire onely for the Greatnesse of their bodies; He certainly was most fit for it, for the Greatness of his mind.

But Great men, like Great Saints, must die ere they are Ca­noniz'd. Living, men are busied with considering their faults: but dead, they have leysure to summe their vertues up. As for his (for the present) Ile say no more, but only if we may judge of Hercules force by the massiveness of his club, we may wel judge how migh­ty a man he was, by his wielding three Kingdomes so easily as he did. In alteration of whose Go­vernment, this we may truly say, [Page] all that was ill and blameable in the beginning and heat of prose­cution, was done by others; all that was good and laudible, per­form'd and atchieved by him.

But of this Strangers and Po­sterity best can judge. For if none can judge well in cases whereof themselves are parties, none are competent Iudges of those who govern them. And this I'm sure will be the judgment of Posterity, that those are rather Envious who praise him not, then Flatterers who do.

THE IDEA Of his Highness OLIVER late Lord PROTECTOR.

AS we look on the heads of great Rivers with Re­verence, whilst we scarce regard the sources of shallow Brooks; so we look on the births of Great Persons, scarcely re­garding the Origin of lesser ones.

To begin then with hisOF HIS BIRTH & PAREN­TAGE. Birth and Parentage. He was born of the Ancient Family of the Williams's, and Adopted into the noble Family of the Cromwels.

[Page 2]But whilst others derive him from Principalities, I will de­rive his Principality from him, and onely say he was born a Gentleman. A name so fully comprehending all that's great and noble, as whosoever would make him more, should make him less.

A Gentleman, is one who takes his denomination from his Gentility and Descent, ly­ing level in birth to the high­est degree of Nobility. And as his Descent differences him from the vulgar; so by their Ascents he only differs from the Nobility, who are rather high­er, then better then he. Whence Princes are rather the Fountaneers then Fountains of honour, and rather Artifi­cers of the Channel, then Au­thors of the source; since without violencing Nature, [Page 3] they cannot derive▪men high­er then their first Origin, or Fountain-head. Nobility then ads but little to the Gentleman, but the Gentleman much unto the man. Nor do titles of ho­nour, and degrees of Nobility, more advantage a worthy Gen­tleman, then degrees of the U­niversity do an excellent Schol­lar; they rather declaring what he is, then making of him so. Whilst he rather honours his degrees, then his degrees honour him.

But since Birth and Parentage without Education are like land without culture, but barren & infructuous, the force & vertue of Education being such, as man who is a mixt creature of An­gel and Beast, may be exalted by Education to the Nobility of the one, or deprest to the ig­nobility of the other for want [Page 4] of it. It follows, we speak ofOF HIS E­DUCATION. his Education next.

He was bred a Schollar in the University, where, du­ring his youth, he gave the first Essay of that Admirable viva­city of spirit, profoundnesse of judgment, and indefatigable industry, which afterwards inform'd all the Actions of his life.

Learning is (as 'twere) ano­ther soul, animating our minds just as our souls do our bodies. It is a second Nobility, purifying the minde as Nobility does the blood. 'Tis the only purge of vice & ignorance, without wch none are wise nor vertuous but by chance; and of all know­ledges the most excellent, as teaching us the knowledge of all other things.

But ne quid nimis is the motto of a Gentleman, whom it be­comes [Page 5] to know every thing, but make a Trade of nothing. Whence 'tis as great an errour never to apply them to Learn­ing, as alwayes to apply the [...] to 't. The University is a nob [...]Seminary, where young plants receive their first growth and nurriture; but they must be transplanted ere they produce their fruit. It is an excellent seasoning of youth: but as in vain we season vessels unless we infuse some better and more prof [...]table liquors into them afterwards, so 'twere an i­dle action to imbue youth with Letters, unless they afterwards receive the Tincture of some better and more profitable Li­terature, and pass from study­ing books, to study men. Let­ters are but like pastimes, the business of youth, but the idle­ness of Age; and application [Page 6] to books as barren and infru­ctuous in those who learn only to learn: as idle Gallants ap­plication to their Mistresses, who make Love only to make Love. This wisely considered, he made them his business, and apply'd himself no longer to them then till he had attained to riper years. When he re­tir'd home from the University just as men do from plenteous feasts, the better to digest the nourishment they have re­ceiv'd, before they apply them selves to action: when he soon declared by the effect, that as there is none more unfit for a­ction then a crude Schollar, so there is none fitter then a well digested one.

But fortune or better provi­dence was long in providing that Action they intended to imploy him in. Nor is it pro­bable [Page 7] they had provided it so soon, had they not found so fit an Agent to be imployed.OF HIS PRI­VATE FOR­TUNES.

Mean time for his private Fortunes, they were but justly competent and suitable to what the Royal Prophet prayed for when he said Divitias nec paupertatem dederis mihi, Give me neither too great riches nor poverty; but only a mediocritie betwixt both; most consistant with vertue; and where vertue doth most consist, too great Riches but exalting a mind too much, as too great Poverty but too much depresses it. T'on blunting the edge of wit and industry, tother by its hard­ship whetting it quite away.

But as too strait and narrow minds miserably contract themselves within their For­tunes, as too vast and large as far dilate themselves beyond [Page 8] it. So his minde was too great and high to be contain'd with­in the narrow limits of his E­state; but it was still breaking forth, till the same Fortune or better providence provided him with an Estate (at last) proportionable to the greatness of his minde; when he might well glory that he had learnt that Art, which the Apostle glo­ries in so much, Scio abundare & penuriam pati, to know both how to want & to abound. The wise wisely accompting those miserablest of all, who never knew what belongd to misery.

During this Time he marri­edOF HIS MA­RIAGE. into an honourable Family, and had hopeful and numerous issue by his Wife.

And now fortune began to dispose him for Regiment (the Government of a Family ha­ving a certain Analogy with the [Page 9] Government of a Common­wealth) and now she began to make him a member of that body of which he was after­wards to be the Head.

The unmarried are no more members of a Commonwealth, then our accidental parts are members of our bodies: they are but Lay-worldlings, only the married take orders in the world; and who have Wife and children, give pledges to their Country of their fidelity, whilst it hath no security of the rest. With good reason then the Romans gave Ius trium Liberorum, or particular honors and priviledges to those who were married & had children, esteeming them only born for the Commonwealth, whilst the others seem'd only born unto themselves; and accounting the married only Citizens, [Page 10] whilst those who lived in wild Celebat were but as strangers and passengers in the world.

In all which capacities and relations of Father, good Patriot, and member of the Commonwealth, he lookt up­on himself, and shortly after was lookt upon by his Coun­try, when in one of the cele­brous 't Elections of the Land, he was chosen member of Par­liament OF HIS BE­ING CHOSEN MEMBER OF PARLIA­MENT. (a place of highest trust and confidence) only in regard of his great abilities of minde, whilst many of greater Fortunes, stood for the Election and were refused.

'Tis a great happiness for the Commonwealth, when men of publick spirits are im­ploy'd in publick businesses. Those who are of any particu­lar faction, interest, or opinion, indeavouring (still) to draw [Page 11] all to the same interest, faction, and opinion with themselves: Whence consequently the Kingdom becomes miserably torn and dismemberd: And you know who sayes, Omne Regnum in se divisum desolabi­tur, Every Kingdom divided in it self shall be destroy'd. So important and necessary for the conserving a State intire, is the concord and unity of its parts among themselves.

In this Parliament that fire at length burst forth, which had been long secretly a kindling, and now was as impossible to be quencht, as that of Rome was in former times, when those who should have quencht it, were the chief Incenters of the Flame, and now they concur'd on all hands to that fatal divi­sion, which wholly separated King and Parliament, when he, [Page 12] as a member of the House, took part with that body of which he was a member.

What other motives he had of siding with the Parliament, I know not. Whether he counted it more Noble and Generous to take part with the weaker side, and more cha­ritable to assist those he ima­gin'd most opprest; or 'twas purely his piety and godliness, the publique sins of tother side (in outward shew at least) ap­pearing more great and nume­rous then those of theirs; and qui putant se obsequium praestare Deo, who imagine they fight for God, never scruple to fight against their King.

However, it had been happy for the King had he fill'd his Court rather with such men as he, neither hopes could perswade to the deserting of [Page 13] their side, nor fear of danger nor death it self affright, then with such as most of his Cour­tiers were; men who durst hazard nothing for an honest cause, who at first sight of dan­ger, compounded with it, per­swaded by their fears, and ra­ther then venture their lives, betrayed their honesties; ve­rifying that vulgar saying, that he who is not valiant can never be an honest man.

But 'tis their common Fates and Errors to imploy none but such who thrust themselves upon them, commonly the unworthiest of all (impudent forwardness only supplying the place of worth in them) whilst the more worthy are neglected and unimployed, only because they are mode­ster then the rest. This the late King dearly experien't, [Page 14] who, whilst he was abandon'd and betraid by those whom he most trusted & oblig'd, found many standing for him in time of need, whom he had never oblig'd by any Favours; but many more against him, whom he had disoblig'd by his dis­favouring them.

What other obligations or disobligations he had to either side, I know not: but this I know, never any more oblig'd a Side, nor better serv'd the Parliaments then he; nor will I determine who took the bet­ter side, but I'm sure he took the more fortunate, or made it so.

For speaking in the House, he had a strong and masculine Eloquence, more able to per­swade more he was perswaded of what he said. His Expressi­ons hardy, Opinions resolute, [Page 15] Asseverations grave and vehe­ment, his Sentences weighty, alwaies intermixt with senten­ces of Scripture, to give them the greater weight; with which he so governd & swayd the House, as he had alwayes the leading voice: compar'd to which, the following ones were only as cyphers, in com­parison of numbers.

Those who finde no such wonders in his Speeches, may finde it in the effect. I have read speeches that have workt strange effects, and you would wonder at their plainness, whilst others you would won­der at their eloquence, have produc't no effect at all. 'Tis not the spirit of the thing thats spoke, that gives it its force and energy, but of him who speaks it; as 'tis not the sword but arm gives force unto the [Page 16] blow. The people were ene­mies to book-learning, and whosoever should endeavour with an Eloquent Oration to reconcile them, and make them friends, should make them their enemies too. And they were great Adorers of the Scripture phrase, which m [...]de him usurp it so frequently as he did. Mean time Cicero, nor Demosthenes, with all their Tropes and Figures, could ne­ver have so perswaded and mov'd the people, as he with one Text of Scripture aptly apply'd to purpose of what he said.

But talking in time of Acti­on, being but an inferiour kind of maintaining a side; he, who alwayes aspir'd to the mostHOW HE BE­TOOK HIM­SELFE TO THE MILI­TIAE. sublime, the Wars once decla­red, soon quitted the House, and betook him to the Field, [Page 17] to manifest his courage as well as eloquence, and maintain by deeds what by words he had perswaded them.

Neither shewd he his cou­rage more then wisedome in't; for though the reward of those who guard the camp, be equal unto theirs who fight i'th field, yet the honour is not so; which usually followes the greatest danger, neither is that followd with Envy as tothers is. Men imagining that Honour we ven­ture for in the field, with ha­zard of our lives, bought at the highest price, whilst those who purchase it without dan­ger at home, have it at too cheap a rate.

Besides, 'tis an Authority of a higher kind, the comanding in the Field, then voting in the House; and begets far other spirits and greater thoughts. [Page 18] These only imagining they command both Army and General, when in effect the General who commands the Army, commands both it and them; and they finde at last that they give but iron to make shackles for their feet, whoso­ever gives weapons to arm the soldiers hands.

This your Polititians, men wiser then the Truth, who are all Linxes, looking into passed times, and moles looking into the future, would have him to have foreseen from the be­ginning, never considering how all things in this world being in perpetual revolution, tis impossible from the begin­ning to see the end of things; besides, that which is ones end, is but anothers meanes to the attaining his: Onely there are certain periods of [Page 19] things, and who has the car­rying of them on when they are next that period, is alwayes accounted most happy and fortunate.

But to declare how he pass'd through all degrees of the Mi­litiae.

Resolv'd to build his For­tunes on the Wars, he would not raise the building without foundation, nor make himself Colonel without being Soldier first, as many did (and conse­quently in short time their honors in the warres fell to all ground) but the higher he in­tended to raise the Edifice, the deeper he diggd for the foun­dation, beginning not only with simple Captain, but to perfect his experiences descen­dingHOW HE WAS CAP­TAIN FIRST. even to the duty and condition of common soldier, none lodging, nor faring hard­er, [Page 20] nor going plainer nor mea­ner clad then he; indefatigable in labour, exemplar in disci­pline, humble and obedient to command; first on all occasi­ons of exercising his valour, yet valiant not rash, the Army being no place for single bra­very, farther then the bravery of one might encourage all the rest. By this means gain­ing the love and affections of all, whilst he yielded to none in doing praise-worthy things, but unto all the praise of doing them, whilst he was modest and patient, and sought not the meanest honours nor pre­ferments, he was esteem'd by all worthy of the highest ones.

These were his Arts whilstHOW HE WAS MADE COLONEL. under Officer, till advanc't higher unto Colonel, he differd in nothing from private Cap­tain still, but only in his great­er [Page 21] care and diligence, and greater occasions he had to serve the side, which in short time conceav'd that opinion of him, as it believd it could be servd by none better then by him. When never any occasi­on there was but He and his Regiment were commanded forth, whilst managing all those occasions to the greatest advantage of his Honour, he alwayes perform'd his Actions in the publique eye of all, whence he had alwayes the publique approbation of all he did, for want of which many brave Actions had been lost. For painted battels in nothing more resemble real ones, then that in either a few heads ap­pear, the rest darkly shadowed and undistinguished, remain undiscern'd in the confused crowd.

[Page 22]The Fame of his Actions arriving at the House, they imagined they could not goe less in recompencing them, then first to bestow on him the Generalship of the Horse, and afterwards the Lieutenant-Generalship of all the Militiae.HOW HE WAS MADE LIEVTE­NANT GE­NERAL OF THE ARMY.

This only encourag'd him to do more bravely, not to go more bravely, as it would have many others. Honours in this resembling Viands, that as one is the aliment of the body, so the other is of gallant minds, rendring them still more active and vigorous: And as t'on in sickly bodies turnes only to diseases and crudities, so tother in unworthy minds are con­verted only to pride & vanity, whilst to grow healthier and humbler with either, shews the excellencie of their Tempers and Constitutions.

[Page 23]But now the more he endea­voured to serve his Side, he hazarded his person less, consi­dering it thereafter more the Publiques then his own, and more detriment to the publick then himself, the loss of it.

'Tis a great errour in those who command in chief, to hazard their persons, and ex­pose their lives on every slight occasion; as if twere more glorious to fight then to com­mand, whereas that is only the vertue of a Common soldier, this of the Leader, whose prin­cipal Talent lies more in dire­ction then execution; more in the brain, then hand. It goes ill with an Army when the General is enforc't to fight, in whose person not only the safe­ty of the Army, but often the safety of the State it self lies all at stake.

[Page 24]Mean time not only all the hopes, but even certainties of Victory (the battel once joynd) depended on him and his Brigade; so [...]r from ever losing battel, as he often gaind and recoverd it when it was lost. So as that might well be said of him, what was anciently said of another, that he had done many brave things without others, but others never any with­out him.

One thing that made his Brigade so invincible, was his arming them so well; as whilst they assur'd themselves they could not be overcome, it as­sur'd them to overcome the enemy.

The well Arm'd have the same advantage of the ill Arm'd in fight, as the warm cloath'd have in winter of those but coldly clad; and [Page 25] t'on goes altogether as dis­heartned to expose himself to danger, as tother to expose himself to the bleak winter air.

But the main cause of all was his excellent Conduct. For having experienc't how others spirits, furious at first onset, dissolv'd in sweat, and tyr'd and languish't by degrees, he alwayes kept a fresh Re­serve until the last, to give a turn to the fortune of the day, that being the precise minute on which Victory as on hinges did depend, which depainted hovering betwixt the Armies when first the battels joyn, isAmat victoria curam. alwayes allur'd unto that Ge­nerals side, who garnishes his Lure with greatest diligence.

This made a certain modern Leader say, that Fortune did nothing in the wars, only the Generals skill and diligence [Page 26] did all. But he should have rather said that it was the pro­vidence of Almighty God.

In confidence of whose pro­vidence he never enter'd bat­tel but by the port of Prayer Prayer has this resemblanceTHE EFFI­CACY OF PRAYER: with rain, that just as that first ascends from Earth to Heaven, and afterwards comes showring down from Heaven to Earth again; so those pray­ers which by Gods grace we send up to him, he ever pours down agen in blessings on our head. 'Tis the great Artillery that violences Heaven, which must be rendred exorable by prayer, ere Armies can be ren­dred happy by victory: And in vain the Israelites lift up their hands in fight, if Moses first lift not up his hands in prayer.

Thus entring battel in con­fidence [Page 27] of the God of battel, he alwayes came off with victory, his soldiers alwayes imagining a certain Divinity in him, who never did any thing without first imploring the aid of the Divinity.

It has been the policy of di­vers, falsly to perswade the people that they had a certain familiarity with Almighty God, and consequently a kind of omnipotency in all they did; But it has been the Religion of more, really to seek a familia­rity with him by prayer, and unite all their Actions with his omnipotence. Neither dos this their dependency on Hea­ven, any wayes slacken their obligations to their duties here on Earth; but rather ren­ders the tye more firm and strong, and themselves more active and diligent.

[Page 28]To do all things himself, as if he had expected nothing from God, and then expect all from God, as if he had done nothing himself, was the way a certain holy person took to arrive to perfection. So after the Apostle had said he could do nothing of himself, he presently adds, Omnia possum in eo qui me confortat, that he could do all things in God who strengthened him. In i­mitation of whom, another holy person was wont to say, God and I can do all things; and if it seem presumption in him to name himself with God, cer­tainty a greater presumption 'tis for man even to name him­self without him.

This gain'd him a high re­putation with the godly party in the House; and to maintain a fair correspondency with all, [Page 29] never any place was taken, nor battail wone, but He was first who gave intelligence of it to the House, by which he gained at once the good opinion both of the Parliament and Gene­ral; attributing in His Letters more honour to the one then he with modesty could do unto himself, and writing his own Actions in such modest tearms to tother, as they always ima­gin'd him more worthy ho­nour, the lesse he attributed unto himself.

These were his Arts whilst Lieutenant General, by which he purchast so great a name in war as Essex, and all those great and glorious names were swallowed up in his; just as great Rivers are swallowed up by the Ocean.

I pass over in silence those dangerous passages of State, [Page 30] (about this time) because he past them over so lightly as he scarce left the print of his footsteps behind, whilst in all the rest none ever left more glorious marks then he.

Whatsoever they were they goe rather on the times ac­compt then his; for a wise States-man may often opine the best, and yet follow the worst opinion; nor is this weakness, but judgement and necessity, there being no great­er weaknesse then to follow ones private opinion against the publique vote; or in a ge­nerality to be particular.

How he came afterwards toHOW HE WAS MADE GENERAL. be General, all circumstances considered, is most remarka­ble, there having past a vote ith' House that no member of it should bear Office or Com­mand i'th Army, he notwith­standing [Page 31] by common vote of all, was presently chosen Gene­rall, so useful, or rather neces­sary he was esteemed for that high charge, and the service of the Common wealth.

Useful instruments are often laid aside, but necessary we still retain in hand, and can as little be without them as our hands themselves. Whosoever then would be always imployd ith' State, must render them­selves necessary for the service of the State; else such is their desire of change and variety as they will often change them onely for the pleasure which they take in change, although for others no more useful them themselves.

Some will say, If no Mem­ber of the House was to com­mand the Army, why was not he included amongst the rest? [Page 32] if any, why was he excluded who commanded it, for for­tune, valour, diligence and fidelity assuredly inferiour un­to none?

But beside the foresaid Rea­son, this answer may be easily made; by this Act they in­tended onely to exclude the Lords, who now they were resolv'd to cast aside as unne­cessary utencils of State; as superstitious Reliques of a Re­ligion they had abolished, and superfluous Pillars of a Royal Pallace they had overthrown, mean while they by conspiring against the King, did just as if the Starres should conspire a­gainst the Sun who gives them light, or streams to dry up the fountain whecne they flow'd; whence consequently every Glow-worm out shin'd them now, and their swoln greatness [Page 33] which every one feared before, was now at so low an ebbe as all fearlesly strid over them.

This I speak not with re­flexion on them all, for many did what their honours obli­ged them to, and many what in conscience they imagined the best; but though all were not equally in fault, all were equally involv'd ith punish­ment; and 'tis a kind of ori­ginal sin in the Nobility, whose stain will never out of their posterity.

Now General, he was not like those Images which lessenOF HIS ACTIONS WHILST HE WAS GENERA [...]. with their height, but the higher he was advanc't, the greater still he shewed; and honours were to him but as fewel is to fire, the more you cast on it you inflame it, but the more, and more vigorous and bravely active it becomes.

[Page 34]Expect not from me, here the narration of all his mili­tary Actions, as his conquering Ireland, his subduing Scot­land, nor the many Battails he fought and wone till his fi­nishing the war in England, a field so great, as travelling it or'e might well weary the longest winded History, much more so short a breath'd Pam­phlet as mine. I'le only briefly touch his Military vertues, the soul that informed all those actions of his.

Every common Sergeant can set his men in ranke and file, and every Sergeant of Battalia can order a Battalion, but every one who knows to set the men knowes not to play the Mate; to know his advantages and disadvantages in War; how to improve his own and enervate the enemies [Page 35] force; how dexterously to pre­vail himself of their weakness, and to elude their strengths; to know when they find them yielding, how to presse them to an overthrow, and then never permit them to rise a­gain, nor unite in one body, having once routed them, but scatter them as the wind does dust before its face. These are the Arts of an expert General, and all these he had unto per­fection.

Now overcoming his ene­mies with celerity when there was danger in delay; and now delaying againe when there was danger in celerity.

Who have always one man­ner of making war, like Fen­cers, who have alwayes one ward or play, give main ad­vantage to their enemies, and teach them as well to offend [Page 36] them as defend themselves; but who intervary the manner of their conduct still, alwayes amuse, perplex and dismay the enemy, and put them quite beyond their skill and pre­vention.

Some times again he would set upon the foe and overcome them with half the numbers they brought to field, and at other times bring double their numbers to over-power them.

When presumption renders an enemy negligent, he with few forces may be overcome; but when despair makes them valiant, then greater forces are requisite to gain the victory. Mean time this is a general rule in war, to enterprize easie things as difficult, and difficult as easie; better to avoid too much despair or negligence in themselves.

[Page 37]It is the prudent observa­tion of a moderne Writer, that the ballancing our forces just with the enemies, has been the losse of many battails they might have gained, onely by putting more into the scale; occasions and difficulties in war still growing like our bo­dies; and childrens coats will ‘soon become too little for them, unless we make them bigger then their measures are at first.’

But let us pass from the field unto the town, and take the prospect of the Parliament, on which the eyes and attentions of all were fixt and attent, the war now finished.

They fancying a prescripti­on perhaps as well against the Kingdom as the King, thought of nothing but perpetuating their reign, and were become [Page 38] by this time so imperious, as one might sadly say of them what pleasantly was said of them in former times, that England now had four hundred Kings in lieu of one.

As there is no greater Liber­ty for the Subject then theOF THE DISSOL­VING THE PARLIA­MENT. moderate Government of one, so there is no greater Tiranny then the immoderate Govern­ment of many; none know­ing whom to obey where eve­ry one commands, nor who to please when every one is dis­pleased with what he com­mands not (they always disa­greeing amongst themselves) to free us from which Tiranny the Army was as necessary now as were Parliaments to free us from the Tiranny of Kings be­fore.

In brief, thus stood the case, that cittadel and fortresse of [Page 39] the peoples Liberty, being in manner fortified against them now, by those whom they had intrusted with its custody, what should he the peoples Ge­neral do? but take it in, and eject and cast them out, far from any intention to demo­lish it, but only to man it with others more faithfully to the peoples trust.

When strait with joyfull acclamations of all he was pro­claimed their Protector and Go­vernour, not to leave the Com­monwealth as monstrous now without a head, as 'thad been with so many heads before.

And who indeed could bet­ter deserve that title then he,HOW HE WAS MADE PROTEC­TOR. who not onely protected us from our forraign and dome­stick enemies, but also from our selves, the greatest and dangeroust enemies of all; [Page 40] when passion rises in rebellion against Reason, the multitude (whose liberty is madnesse) never imagining that they are free so long as reason rules and governs them; in which case even their dearest friends use constraint and force to hinder them from mischieving others and themselves; and for this end chiefly the Army was still kept on foot.

Though there wanted not other Reasons, the war stillOF THE HOLLAND WAR. continuing which the Parlia­ment had ingaged us in against the Hollander, which he so hap­pily concluded and brought to end: as 'tis hard to say whe­ther the war or peace he made was more honourable or ad­vantagious to the English Na­tion; our maritine forces ren­dred by it formidable unto all, we absolute and sole masters of [Page 41] the Sea, and every where sove­raign Arbiters of peace and war.

For the Spanish war, whichOF THE SPANISH WAR. next succeeded this, (on what motives so ever underta'n) the enterprize certainly was great and glorious, though the event every where answer'd not our expectation.

When Princes (through di­stance of place) are forc't to hear and see with others ears and eyes, and act with others hands and fortunes, they never can be so truly inform'd of things, nor carry on the war so vigorously and fortunately, as when they see and hear and fight themselves.

However, though in the Spanish Indies we fail'd of that success was hoped for, yet if that Artificer was highly prai­sed for the greatnesse of his [Page 42] mind, who would have con­triv'd mount Athos (reaching from Earth to Heaven) into one intire Statue of Alexander the Great, to shew the mighti­ness of his actions; what praises does he deserve of England who intended the erecting of the whole Indies into one in­tire Trophee of our victory, to shew the mightiness of the English Nation! And that this had been the success of it, had it been nigher hand, or he had had the managing of the war, we may well conjecture by the success our Army had in Flan­ders, whether he could even intend his own eys and hands, and by Auspice of his owne Fortune carry on the warre, untill by taking Dunkirk and Mardike (by our shipping as by a Bridge) he had joyned our Isle unto the continent, and [Page 43] Brittain was no longer divided from the world, but the world was now joynd unto Brittainy, and we to our greater honour and advantages might make or peace or war.

Peace and War (as one witti­ly said) beget each other in an Incestuous in, onely peace is the Legitimate chield of war, but war oftentimes the Illegi­timate one of peace: States be­come rather Great then Rich by war, as they become rather Rich then Great by peace; the best policy (then) is to inter­mix them so, as neither the State fall into a plurisie by peace, nor Hectique Feaver or Consumption by war.

But wars abroad are like our natural heat, only an argument of our health and strength, whilst Civil dissentions are like the heat of Feavers, be­tokening [Page 44] sicknesse and infir­mity;OF THE CONSPIRA­CIES A­GAINST HIM. under which notion I know not whether I should comprehend the private con­spiracies against his life and state, which he prevented and supprest with such temper and moderation, as whilst the pun­ishment extended but to few, the fear of it extended unto all: so far (the whilst) from Crueol and Sanguinair (even when cruelty might have been ac­counted necessity) as he never cut off one member but for preservation of all the rest; nor let blood in one vein, but to hinder all the rest from cor­ruption.

The Conspiracies of a known discontented party are easily prevented, because they are always lookt upon with jea­lous eyes; they are rather ulcers then sicknesses of State; [Page 45] they have more of the will then ability to do harm, and are rather troublesome then dangerous; nor are the Conspi­rators considerable, but only for their inconsiderableness. Men of Estates and Fortunes always comply with the present times and seek not (with hazard to make them worse) to better their conditions; but men of no fortunes still wish for the future, and having no Estates themselves, are still longing for the Estates of other men, and still striving to better their conditions, when (whatsoever change happens) they can't be worse; and for such as these 'tis with injustice they com­plain of others not observing the Articles of War, nor Act of Oblivion, whilst they on their fides observe not their Articles of living peaceably [Page 46] under the present Govern­ment, nor casting into oblivion all former enmities.

But the Conspiracies of those who have no other cause of discontent, but onely their own unquiet dispositions, are far more dangerous, like pe­stilentious Feavers, hard to be seen at first, when easily pre­vented, and hard to be pre­vented at last, when easily seen; and such were the Con­spiraciesOF THE CONSPIRA­CIES A­GAINST HIS GO­VERNMENT of some unquiet spirits in Parliament against his Government.

It ordinarily happens that when two parties joyne in op­position against a third, the third remov'd and tan' away, the other sub-divide, but when 'tis to the advantage of their common enemy, if they un­derstand their owne in­terest, they remain united [Page 47] still, and if any for their own particular interests seek to dis­unite them, they look upon them as their enemy too.

Such was the case of the Army and Parliament, and such were those men who oppos'd his Government, neglecting the publique safety and busi­ness, only to attend to their private Animosities, complain­ing they were injur'd because they were suffred to doe no injury; and who had rather have no Government at all, then not to be the men them­selves to govern us: yet had these their Fautors amongst the multitude, and were ac­compted Good Patriots by those, who if they were wise would as much detest them now, for opposing one a­nother; as they had them in veneration for opposing [Page 48] Kings in former times, never considering that 'twas envy not zeal in them, that they would change the Government only to have the Government; that they would introduce them­selves in place of others far more worthy then themselves; and (finally) that whoever should be instruments of their Ambition, should but be instruments of their own de­struction.

But see the strange fates of those who govern us! before, whilst he did nothing for po­pularity, every thing was popular that he did; now (on the contrary) nothing was popular, though he did every thing for popularity. The same Actions are variously inter­preted; the same faces diversly lookt upon: such prestigious­ness there is in Government, [Page 49] it makes the same persons hate­full when Princes once, whoTHE REA­SON WHY PRINCES ARE NOT BELOV'D. seem'd most lovely when Sub­jects and private men; and the reason's clear, for none looke on those above them with equal eyes, envy fasci­nates them, and the people naturally Lovers of Liberty, naturally hate all who have any Dominion over them: Whence Oderint dum metuant, let them hate so they fear me, was the saying of a Tyrant; but Oderint dum sine causa ode­rint, let them hate me, so they hate me without a cause: this both he and every good Prince might say.

But he soon prevented their machinations, and discipated their plots by dissolving the Parliament.

'Tis the best cure of malig­nant feavers to discipate the [Page 50] humors, and great wisedome in those who contend to know their own Forces, and theirs they contend withall; the Parliament are enough to doe their businesse by gentlenesse, but too few to do it by force violence; and in vaine they imagine by number to carry it against those who can lessen their numbers when they please. Yielding is the best weapon of the weak against the strong, obliging them to lay aside their force: and in­deed the best weapon too of the strong against the weak, obliging them to lay their ob­stinacy aside, and either to contend in friendly courtesie: In a word, a little conde­scendency on both sides is the best way to make both parts agree; as hot and cold though opposite in themselves, [Page 51] agree together in Tepidity. Neither was there any other way of contending with him but only by gentleness, resolvd rather to lose his life then re­putation; as (indeed) it is the better life of Princes, since without that, their Authority is dead and gone, by which they only live and reign. But whether the Stars command us, or we command the Stars, may be a Probleme, as well as whether the Suns motion or Earths occasions our dayly re­volutions. Certain it is, he had such a commanding Genius as by gentle force made every one obey; nor did he ever finde difficulty or opposition, that by avoiding or incoun­tring he did not overcome.

In a calme every common Mariner can sit at Helm; but in a storm when the billows [Page 52] swell bigge and high, when horror incompasses them on every side, when they have nothing but death before their eyes, and every wave appears their Sepulchre, then onely such an expert Pilot as he can to sit at the Helm of govern­ment, who perfectly knows his Gard and Compass, and now by a direct course can cut through those waves, he safely may incounter, and now by an oblique agen avoid the more dangerous, till in despight of seas and windes, conspiring against him, he safely conducts his barque to the port at last.

And without wrestling with these difficulties and opposi­tions, it might have been doubted whether Fortune or Vertue had had the greatest share in all his Actions, but now of necessity we must con­fesse [Page 53] that virtute duce, comitante Fortuna, he had vertue for guide, and fortune for compa­nion in all he did. 'Twas Fortune that presented him the occasions of combatting, but vertue, that he alwayes came off with victory.

That he should finde the wheel of things in so vehement commotion was Fortune ('tis true) but that (once mounted to the top) he should stop, and fix it so suddainly as he did, appears the work of some more then human hand; so that he should finde the Body and Frame oth' State all shatter'd in pieces, and those pieces all scatter'd about, was Fortune too, but to recollect all those scatter'd pieces, and compose them all into one intire body and frame, was such a master­piece as none but so great a [Page 54] Master could ever have per­form'd. And if we count it so great a happinesse when bones are broke and splinter'd, to light on such an excellent Surgeon as co'd set them right again, and apt every splinter to its proper place; how much more happinesse must it needs be for States, when all dis­joynted and out of frame, to light on so excellent a States­man as he, who co'd without maim or scar set all things right agen.

Now if we examine what had so disjoynted it, we shall find it chiefly to have beene this Reformation they talk so magnificently of, and conse­quently that (though it seem a Paradox) nothing needs moreOF REFOR­MATION. Reformation then it.

There is nothing more spe­tious then the name of Refor­mation, [Page 55] and nothing less then the thing it self; 'tis the itch of good times, and ulcer of ill, always enemy to present Go­vernment; it has done great things, but undone greater; seeing (perhaps) some one a­buse 'twould take away, but not hundreds it introduces in the place; your busie Refor­mers, (whether in Religion or in State) more zealous then discreet, recurring always to the contrary extremities; and finding things bent one ways, still bend them as far the other, and leave them so, till some more discreet and moderate, take up where they left them, and rectifie all agen.

But let us passe from dis­coursing of things without him, and come to what he was within himselfe; so shall we be ignorant of nothing, for [Page 56] to know him, is to know every thing.

It becomes the States-man's as Phisitians care, to know the causes of all distempers; the cures of all maladies, and nature and disposition of all bodies they have in cure, andOF HIS CIVIL GO­VERNMENT all this, touching the politique body he was most perfect in.

So expert in the manage­ment of affairs, as he knew the best wayes of ariving to his ends, and the best means to faciliate those ways. In fore­seeing harme and danger so vigilant and circumspect, he was above all circumvention and surprize; so quick and suddain in preventing them, as taking all occasion from dan­ger and opportunity from harm, if a day would suffice, he allow'd them not an hour; if an hour, not a moment; then [Page 57] of so deep inspection, he saw into the very interior of men and businesses, and could trace design and interest to its very den, notwithstanding all its turnings, windings, and doub­lings, and if he met with a bo­dy strong and robustous, such as the Army, he knew present­ly how by justly proportioning their Exercise and Regiment to preserve them in perfect health and vigor still: If with such as the States, weak, crasie and infirm, newly recovered from a dangerous malady, and without much care in danger of relapse, no Physitian was ever carefuller nor tenderer of his patients health then he; now with gentle purges weak­ning its sicknesse force, and now with cordials strength­ning its health agen, untill he perfectly restor'd it unto [Page 58] health, as he had done it long ere this, would it either have believ'd that it was sick, or not believ'd a sort of Mounte­banks vainely promising to make it well.

Then for the people, none ever knew their natures and dispositions better then he.

Men impatient of intire servitude, and as incapableOF THE COMMON PEOPLE. of intire Liberty; frighted with sight oth' rod, but mu­tinous in feeling it; none talking more of Liberty, nor understanding it lesse then they; more troubling them­selves, then heads, with their grievance, considering no­thing, but repining at every thing; bold talkers, and con­tented so you suffer them but to talk; above all, most tena­cious of their Liberty of Con­science, rather to follow every [Page 59] new fangled opinion, then re­main constant to the old.

This considered, he framed a Militiae, more to quiet, then molest and trouble them; war­like in appearance, but peace­able in behaviour, nowhere intrenching on their Liberties, but where they intrench'd on the priveledges of Govern­ment, allowing them their dear liberty (or licence rather) of their tongues, & for their chief­est darling of all, the liberty to erre in their opinions; he permitted them to follow and imbrace what sect they pleas'd, so they all concur'd in obedi­ence to Civil Government.

This point of Policy many have wondred at, not know­ing it seems, or not remem­bring that Parable in the Go­spell of the good Corn and Tares; and but weak Polititi­ans, [Page 60] not to understand that who intends any great Refor­mation, must not amuse them­selves with lesser things till that perform'd once; then the greater of those, which in comparison seem'd less before, becomes the object of their Reformation, and so by de­grees, till they have reform'd all; for want of which Me­thod, the ignorant and rash bring all things to ruine and confusion, by plucking down more then they can build up again; and vainly imagining the best way of reforming any part, to be by the total destru­ction of the whole.

This was his method, mean time mens reasons could so little comprehend, as they needed their own experience to believe, how he, Atlas-like, could support so mighty a [Page 61] frame and machin, all compos'd of so many different and disjoyn­ted parts, and hinder them from slipping and falling all in pieces, which yet he did, riveting them so fast together, and making them all so firm cohere amongst them­selves, as so many pieces of soft wax melted and moulded all in one, could not cleave faster in one Ball or Globe; and this was the great work he had to do, and which, had not death prevented him, he was on point of finishing: when indifatigable in body and mind, Assidual in councel, perpe­tually in imploy, all care and dili­gence, all labour and industry; he died more through care andOF HIS DEATH. solicitude of the Common wealth, then either age or sickness; un­timely for us, but timely for him­self; (in height of all his fortunes and prosperities, having never known misfortune nor adversity) [Page 62] After he had refus'd the Crown, and acquird more glory by't then ever any did by accepting it; in which, as in all his other Actions, he might well be compar'd to Caesar, both alike fortunate and victorious in war; both prudent alike in ordering the Civil Go­vernment; as many prodigies devancing tons; as to theirs death, onely their ends were different, Caesar dying a violent death, he a natural; Caesar satiate with living, he desirous onely to prolong his life, untill he had finished the great work he had in hand (ex­tending in manner beyond death it self, his care and solicitude of the publique good) Caesar finally leaving the Commonwealth all imbroyl'd in Civil wars through multiplicity of Competitors to the Government; he to prevent it, leaving the Government to his Son, out of the way of all com­petition, [Page 63] for who else could he have left it to? but some ambi­tious or other might strait have start up and said, And why not I as well as he? now 'tis answer sufficient to say, He is his Son, so are not you; and sufficient to say of him, that he is the worthy Son of such a Father, and more worthy the Government the lesse he sought and courted it.

One capable of all the honours of peace and war, born with the seeds in him both of civil and military Government, as time and occasion will soon produce to light, for that only 'tis, and the office, which shews the man, and many had never been thought so fit for Government had they never governed: For example, who would ever have imagined our Henry the fifth, who seem'd only to mind his pleasures all his youth, would afterwards have [Page 64] prov'd so brave a man? yet we see how great a Souldier he be­came, and how occasion was ra­ther wanting unto him, then he unto occasion, during his Fathers life. Or that Spinola, coming from a City that had more commence with gold then steel, should the first day of his going to Field become an accomplisht General, and ever afterwards one of the renownedst Souldiers of his Age. To say nothing of Card. Maz­zarin, nor his predecessor Card. Richelieu, both superintendants of the Arms of France; both by their diligence gaining more vi­ctories, then their greatest Gene­rals with all their experience. A man of courage as easily becomes a Souldier, as a wise man a Poli­tique; and 'tis not the man, but the Country makes the war, and rather the Treasurer then General; let them not be wanting to sup­ply [Page 65] the Armies wants, and they'l nere be wanting to bring them home victories.

And this in vindication of his Fathers leaving him the Govern­ment, which yet was rather others seeking then his own, and rather his obedience then com­mand, putting no natural affe­ction in the scale, in weighing the interest of the Commonwealth; and so far from partial for any interest of his own, as we may well say of him, nature it self was not more natural to him then his affection to the publick good.

Neither did he this without the example of other elective States, the Polander still continu­ing the Government in the house of Iagalonii, the Germans in that of Austria, and Hollander in the Family of Nassan (though no less jealous of their liberties then we of ours) wisely imagining a cer­tain [Page 66] Omen in that name (as we may well in that of Cromwel) to pre­serve that Liberty which it had purchast them; they well fore­seeing the harms and mischiefs still follow all changes of Fami­lies, when new Officers and new Houses are introduc't, new inte­rests, new factions, (to the de­struction of the old) new humors to comply with, new Avarices to satisfie, so as if the people but rightly understood, how danger­ous and pernicious all change and alteration is to States, they would not change although 'twere offred them, to be well, if they were but tolerably ill; nor to be better, if they were well.

To conclude with his Chara­cter: he was of stature rather wellHIS CHA­RACTER. set then tall; strong and robustous of constitution; of visage Leonin, the true phisiognomy all great and martial men, yet as much [Page 67] Lamb in the Chamber as Lion in the Field, courteous, affable, and obliging to all; nor can any Re­cords shew a better Child unto his Parents, Parent to his Chil­dren, nor Husband to his Wife, and no less a Friend to all, but those who would needes make themselves his Enemies. Bounte­ous of himself, but frugal for the Commonwealth; avoiding all su­perfluity in a State, where super­fluity is counted manificence: li­ving in the condition of a Prince with the moderation of a private man; and free from all vice, even in an Age, when he is counted a good Prince who is not altoge­ther vitious.

These were his vertues when living, and who would find any fault with him now he's dead, as­suredly shall find no other (when th'ave sought all they can) but on­ly his leaving so many ill tongues [Page 68] in England, which yet he could not remedy, leaving them the li­berty (as he did) of free born English men.

Thus have we brought his lifeTHE CON­CLUSION. (in its Idea) all under one pro­spect of the eye, and by brief glimpses & reflexions given light to see how great a person he was, no humain body being scarcely capable of a greater soul; how for­tune and vertue, never more con­cur'd to the advancement of a man; how never any past to the temple of honor by more directer ways, through that of his own vertue and Heroick deeds; how much he merited of England by his serving & conserving it, in its most dangerous times; & finally how both at home and abroad he was the honour of our Nation, wherefore our Nation should be most unworthy and ungrateful should it not always honour him.

FINIS.

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