A PANEGYRICK On the Most Auspicious and long-wish'd-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, &c. Lord Lieutenant and General Governour of His Majesties Kingdom of Ireland, His Grace.

BY F. S.

Nemo confidet nimium secundis
Nemo desperet Meliora lapsis.
—Deus nobis haec otia fecit.

Dublin, Printed by John Crook, Printer to the Kings most Ex­cellent Majesty, for Sam. Dancer, Bookseller in Castlestreet.

A Panegyrick To the Most Illustrious JAMES Duke, Marquess, and Earl of ORMOND. Lord Lieutenant, and General Gover­nour of His MAJESTIES 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 unkinde Fate of our feeble Organs deny us to reach unto, the other the expanded Glory of Your Heroick Actions, and the unex­emplar'd Magnanimity of Your Great Soul, will not admit. [Page 2]Yet herein do we finde 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 then 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 Favorite, 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 Foelicity, 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 our Selves in the Contemplation of that Blessing we have received; a Blessing of that miraculous Magnitude, that our Posterity must have the Influence, We onely the Wonder. Thus Zion's Captivity when revers'd, became a Dream, being (like ours) so far above their Merit, or their Expectation, that it was above the Capacity of their subtilest 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 dispair'd of ever seeing it effected. What rigid Stoick can reflect on our past Distractions, without Distraction? Three Kingdoms which for Riches, Strength and Policy, were no way inferiour 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) dy'd in the Blood of their own Children? How have we seen Religion de­generate[Page 3]from its Primitive Simplicity, and the ravishing Beau­ty of its Coelestial Features, vitiated with the Paint and Fucus of our own Frantick 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 re-invest the lying Author, or the Father of Lyes, in his lost Oracles? How have we seen the Face of Ma­jesty bespatter'd with the virulent Poyson of the Tongue, and Asps, the sworn Subject of His Crown and Scepter? How have we seen our now Glorious Master bely'd by those that began the second Massacre of Innocents, but something bloodier then that of Herod's, when they made the credulous World believe, they had the Royal Assent for their unheard-of 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 murder'd, and the Parricide afterward justified by a Law? A Crime so opposite to to Nature and Humanity, that a Heathen Law-Giver 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. Nonne 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 inlarged Sorrows. Me­thinks I hear a Voice behinde me, asking where were those Te­neri Agnelli, the surviving Hope and Props of the mourning Diadem; Though the Hand of Violence had seiz'd the Life of the Father, yet Hae Oviculae quid fecerunt? What had They done to be Disfranchis'd from their Royal Right? Where was then CHARLES the Little, now greater then 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[Page 4]in a Forreign 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 Princes Fate, and her Childrens Danger? Where lay the Honest Man, when the Artifice of Hell was invok'd to Unrivet his Allegiance? What Oaths, Rapines, Murders, Sacriledges, 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 Peoples Faith: The Estates of Gentry and No­bility, without their Blood and Exile; nay the Crown it Self, 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 imagin'd, 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 Landskip of Your own Shipwrack? Against such melancholy Entertainment, though from the fair Hands of a Beauteous Queen, we finde a great Reluctancy in the most court­ly Trojan, ‘Infandum, Regina, jubes, &c. Yet as that Noble Prince would rather cruciate his own Soul, then disoblige so sweet a Lady, that lov'd him the more passio­nately for his Sufferings: So we (my Lord) do hope that You, whom we equally love for Yours, will not onely 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[Page 5]hardly with Moderation manage that Joy and Contentation, Your long'd-for Presence has brought amongst us.

Be pleas'd then to remember (most Excellent Sir) when our Royal Master of Glorious Memory, prick'd 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 then to put her under the Tuition and Care of an Able and Faithful Physitian: How welcom, how generally applauded was His Royal Choice, when he pitch'd 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 our Selves, and frowardly spurn'd our own Happi­ness) that might give a Disgust, to the most cross-grain'd Hu­morist? Was High Blood, flowing from the Veins of as Noble, as Ancient Progenitors, inferiour to no Subject, and that with­out the least Attainder of Disloyalty for so many Hundreds of Years, of no consideration? Were rare Endowments of Minde, (the special Marks and Tokens, whereby wise Kings chuse 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 Coelestial 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-immerg'd this unfortunate Island, when her[Page 6]Head began to appear above the Deluge her own Blood had made? What it was that made You (my Lord) who had so free­ly sacrific'd 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 win­ing 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 En­terprize, see the just Fate of Phaeton and Icarus in the foolish Undertakers. We need not trouble our Selves 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 stain 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, then we have since unjustly to have fought in: A Cause that History it self could not produce a better, nor a good One so much abus'd. But where Ambiti­on and Covetousness pretend under the Veil of Piety (like the Jesuites in the Indies) the Cure of our Distempers we may be sure to finde 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) cry'd down as a Design against the English Interest?[Page 7]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 appear'd) 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 Grashoppers of the Field; not considering that those Allegations (if true) were the onely Motives, that induc'd 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 Dissention, and prolonged the War by ob­structing those Aids that were then intended, and which (very likely) if legally follow'd, had soon put a period to the Force and Heat of that Unparallel'd Rebellion. But such a Preposte­rous and Unevangelical Zeal (they are the Royal Martyrs own Words) as some Men were then endu'd 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 then the Charity of Saving their Lives, or Reforming their Errors. Well! They had their Will, and the Cheat succeed­ed. The Kings Angelical Disposition could deny them nothing, whom he thought Friends to Truth, and really touch'd with the Severity of this Kingdoms Sufferings. The Throne shall do Homage to the Footstool, and the Indispensable Jewels of the Crown, shall be ingag'd for their Satisfaction. But what do we finde to be the Fruit of this Royal Bounty? Why the very same that a Graceless Child most commonly returns an Indulgent [Page 8]Parent, to grow the Worse, the Better he is us'd; and to gra­tifie 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 oblig'd then we? Who less concern'd? 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 stript himself to cloth a naked Army? and how brave his recompence to have his precious life in danger to be made the interest of his Curtesie? What did ever that sweet Lady do (whose rare and constant virtue her very enemies admir'd, and whose desert they wanted power to reward) that she must Petition for a subsistance out of her own Fortune, and with a great deal of difficulty obtain the tythe? Wherein did ever the hopeful Branches of your noble Family merit a deprivation of their maintenance, whose tender years as well as inclinations, seem'd to plead their innocency before God and Man? And for a Close, what did ever your Excel­lency act (while cheif 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 Foot-steps of a real acknowledgement of our being faulty? No (My Lord) when we once shake hands with desperation (that is) when we have finn'd beyond Pardon and Reprieve, that reprobate Axiome will prove current Divinity; Scelera sceleribus tuenda, too de­monstrative in that Mirrour of Princes, who when he had given all He had to satisfie their hellish Appetites, must give His Life at last, to make their Policy and Villany the more exquisite and[Page 9]compleat: What else did they do (in Lieu of all the Kindnes­ses they receiv'd) but assist at the Horrid Sacrifice of the Prince of Martyrs, their Lord and Master, and (notwithstanding their seeming disrelishes of that unpresidented Act) inthron'd the Regicide, and after his death, own'd 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 then we; For it is a true Doctrine, though a rebellious Principle, That he that dares break up his Masters Treasury to back his Treachery, will not scruple much to rob the poor mans 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 design'd her, but how it was dispos'd of, they know best that arm'd the Traytor and disarm'd the King. T'would ask a longer time then a Winters tale, to particularize the several Ingredients that Amasse our Sorrows; We may giv'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 All-powerful Directer (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 then ever, upon[Page 10]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 Your Self, yet nec victoriâ elatus nec infortunio dejectus. 'Twere a sawcy 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 Emperour of the East, though in the Head of an Invincible Army, rejected not the well-meant Intelligence of a poor Shepherds Boy; We hope we may without Offence presume to offer a little of what we know, to Your Graces Eye, our Design being no other but the tender Care and Love we have of Your Graces 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 Chast as that, that amongst so many pressing Temptations has kept her Virginity Pure and Immaculate. Above all, (my Gratious Lord) we hope You will not let Loyalty, like a neglected Orphan, lan­guish in a Corner, or like Lazarus, finde more Charity from Dogs then Men, Whilst Rebellion Revels in her Glorious Pos­sessions, and like Dives, pampers her Self with the Choice De­licates of this Worlds Revenue. Nor would we have You (my Lord) to draw the Sword and throw away the Scabberd: 'Tis the Traytors Maxime, 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 per­swade[Page 11]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 Fore-Fathers. But stop awhile! I fear we have rebell'd in our Adress, 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 condemn'd 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 Bed-Cham­ber: 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 Exil'd Master, stands an In­delible Monument to after-Ages) have as ample a Reward as Earth can give here, or Heaven hereafter! And may a heavie 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 Battel against O Connor, standing still three Hours, and casting such dazling 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 refin'd Bodies that have an Influence upon us, fight against all those that fight against You! May all that's Good, love[Page 10] [...] [Page 11] [...] [Page 12]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 SYNGE.

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