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most exalted honours. In short, I entered, listed, and swore myself engineer general under that leading hero's banners; and how hugged, and how embraced, my succeeding almost deluge of good fortune, glories, and preferments, will sufficiently testify.
And, though the world has sometimes wondered, at so sudden a rise, as, in little more than seven years, to mount from a Finsbury petty-fogger, to a Lord High-Chancellor of England; from bawling at a hedge-court-bar for a five shillings fee, to sit equity-driver, with ten-thousand pounds per annum, besides presents and bribes unaccountable, honestly gotten. But, alas! to rectify the mistakes of mankind, and suppress their astonishment at so unprecedented an advance, I must assure them, that as no history affords a parallel of such a crown-favourite as myself; so no age ever yielded such a true crown-drudge neither, to deserve those favours. Alas! my darling fortune moved not half so rapid, as my dearer counsels drove; and all the caresses of my glory were thought but the poorest mead and reward of those services that gained them.
But, to recite my fatal particulars. Upon my first entrance (as I was saying) of engineer-general, our first great attack was against the charter of London; and, to the honour of my premier effort, what by our terrible dead-doing quo warranto, my own invented battering ram, planted against them at Westminster, and the Towerhill guns removed, and mounted against them on the Tower battlements; we soon reduced that imperious town, to almost as intire a subjection and vassalage, as our own hearts, and our Roman friends, could wish.
Next, for these prerogative-crampers, those checkmates of crowns, called parliaments, there our triumph was absolute; we prorogued or dissolved, and danced them from pillar to post, from Westminster to Oxford, &c. at pleasure; and heaven knows, with timely, prudent, and wise care, to hush their too impudently inquisitive curiosity into our Coleman's packets, our Le Chaise and Lewis intrigues, and the rest of our Popish plots and cabals; and all, God knows, little enough to keep our cloven foot undiscovered.
Flushed with such prosperous success, even in my infant mischiefs, what was it that I either staggered or shrunk at? My temptations so allured me, my rewards so dazzled me, and my felicity so hardened me, that moderation, reluctance, or humanity, were only so many manacles and shackles, that my impatient soul threw off with disdain.
Who, alas! but I, with so much unrelenting and pitiless barbarity, triumphed in the blood of those poor miserable western wretches; and sanguined my very ermins in their gore, till even the air, with the noisomeness of their carcasses, stunk almost as much, if possible, as the very name of Jefferies their butcher? Yes, and I acted by the commissioning vengeance that sent me thither, to inform the heretick enemies of Rome, how much their blood tickles when it streams; and to let them know by the sample of my hand, how keen is a Popish edge-tool.
Was it not I too, that with so much cunning and artifice, aw1 by so many rhetorical high-treason flourishes, wheedled poor Cornish to a gibbet, and Russel to a scaffold? Yes, and it was a master-piece! to give the trembling world a timely warning what Protestant zeal must trust to, when Popish malice is pleased to be angry; and to convince how easily can a Jesuitical engine wire-draw guilt, where Popish rancour is resolved to destroy.
Who dissolved all the charters, and new-garbelled all the corporations, but Jefferies? And why, but to prepare them to understand that, what with our quo warranto's, and the rest of our modelling tools, we were resolved, at last, to have parliaments a la-mode de Paree, and their dragoon-reformers too, soon after. Who invented that insnaring command to the bishops, of reading the declaration, and put their refusal to the stretch of high misdemeanor, if not high treason, but the chancellor? And why, think you, but to satisfy them what Romish eye sores are the Protestant lawn-sleeves; and that they shall want neitherjustles nor stumbling blocks to trip their heels up, and their heads off too, when they stand in our way?
Who but the great Jefferies, in defiance of the very fundamentals of human society, the original laws of nature, and to the face of Magna Charta itself, got the Bishop of London silenced and suspended, without so much as that universal and common right, sacred even amongst heathens and infidels, viz. the privilege of making either plea or defence, condemned, untried, and unheard? Yes, I did it; to instruct the world what feeble cobweb-lawn are the bonds of justice, law, liberty, common-right, &c. in the hands of an imperial Popish Sampson Agonistes?
Was it not I too, by my ecclesiastick, high-commission supremacy, not only against the statutes and customs of the university, but the positive laws of the land, turned Maudlin-College into a seminary of Jesuits, and, in spight of that bulwark of the Church of England, the act of uniformity, converted a collegiate chapel, into a masshouse? And by the same justice, might not every collegiate, cathedral, and parochial church have had the same conversion? And both the fountains of religion and learning, the mother universities, been deprived of all her Protestant sons, and re-peopled with the whole race of St. Omer, and Salamanca?
Who did all this? The Chancellor! yes, and he saved the Church of England, and the whole English liberty, by it. The nation was lulled into so profound a sleep, that they wanted such thunderclaps, and such a Boanerges, to awaken them from their lethargy.
With these serious reflexions, that these rapid and violent motions of the Romish cause, are, and have been the destruction of it; who has been the Protestants champion, but I? Who has pulled off the vizor from the scarlet whore, and exposed the painted Babylon prostitute, but I? And if I drove like Jehu, it was only to the con.fusion of a Jezabel. Who called in the deliverer of our church and laws, that second Hannibal, that mighty Nassau, but-Jefferies? Who has re-mounted the sinking glory of our temples, till their pinacles shall kiss heaven, but Jefferies? Who has united two such formidable Protestant neighbours with that eternal link of interest, as shall render ns onre more the arbiters of Europe, and terror of the world? Who but Jefferies, and Jefferies's conduct, has joined those naval forces, those floating walls, that shall one day mew up that French antichristian monster, till in despight and despair, he burst his soul out at his fistula?
In fine, Who has cut off the very entail of Popery and slavery from three happy kingdoms, but Jefferies? Three kingdoms did I say? Yes, possibly has laid that foundation to the Protestant cause, as shall perhaps one day make her over-top the seven proud hills, and strike her dagger into the very gates of Rome.
With this confession of my crimes, which, under the afflicting hand of heaven, I think myself obliged to give the world, I beseech my enemies themselves so to represent my case, as that at least, ' Out of 'the devourer may come forth meat; and out of the strong, sweet. 'ness:' And, by balancing the services of my actions against the guilt of them, give me some small dawn of hope, that the approaching parliament, my judges, my accusers themselves, may be softened into some commiseration, and forgiveness. I assure them, if heaven spare me life to ask it, they shall want neither confession, discovery, nor contrition, to obtain their absolution. And black as I am, I beg, even my most hard-hearted adversaries, to consider, that still I am not blacker than Judas. And alas! there was some merit even in Judas; for there wanted his betraying of his God, for the saving of the world.
APHORISMS RELATING TO THE KINGDOM OF IRELAND,
Humbly submitted to the most Noble Assembly of
LORDS AND COMMONS AT THE GREAT CONVENTION AT WESTMINSTER.
London, printed for Joseph Watts, at the Angel in St. Paul'i Church.)ard, 1689. Quarto, containing eightpages.
I. A IIAT Ireland is part of the dominions of England, and a kingdom subordinate to it.—This appears not only by the appeals that are made from the Chancery there, to the House of Lords here, and by writ of error from the King's-Bench there to the King'«Bench here; but also by the patents which often pass under the great seal of England, for lands, honours, and offices in Ireland, aud
by the obligation which an English act of parliament lays on Ireland, when it is particularly named.
II. That the Crown of England hath good title to Ireland.— Not only by descent from Eva, daughter of Dermond Mac Morough, King of Leinster, whose ancestors were monarchs of Ireland; but also by lawful conquest in a just war, and by the repeated oaths and voluntary submissions of the Irish potentates and gentry in all ages, and by several statutes of recognition, and acts of parliament in that kingdom, and by above five-hundred years prescription.
III. That whoever hath the Crown of England, is, ipso factoy Sovereign of Ireland; and to levy war, against such person, is treason.—This is the natural result of the first assertion; and besides what may be collected from the statute of 11 Hen. VII. of paying obedience to the king for the time being; it was so at common law, and cannot be otherwise in reason; for there is that correlation between protection and allegiance, that they must stand and fall together, and there is no difference in this case, between Ireland and the Isle of Wight, or any other part of the dominions of the crown of England.
IV. That the Lords and Commons of England have always been xealously concerned for, and liberally contributed to the preservai tion of Ireland.—This appears by the many subsidies and other aids, they have in all ages given towards the support of that kingdom; for Ireland was always a charge to England, until the act of settlement was made: it cost this kingdom near three-hundred thousand pounds per annum for some years in Queen Elisabeth's reign ;and the rebellion, in 1641, drained England of some millions of money, and of many thousands of men, and yet all this was well spent, because,
V. Without the subjection of Ireland, England cannot flourish, and, perhaps, not subsist.—For every harbour in Munster would be more prejudicial to the trade of England, than either Sallee or Algiers ever was, that island being so situate, that England cannot trade with Spain, the Levant, Africa, the East-Indies or the West, without sailing almost in view of the old head of Kinsale, so that England must traffick at vast disadvantage, hazard, and charge, in armed and double-manned vessels, or with great convoys. Add to this, that Ireland would be always in close league with the enemies of England, and yearly supply a vast number of able bodies to annoy it.
VI. That Ireland was never in so much danger as it is now;— For the confederacy was never so general before, the Irish never had such quantities of arms and ammunition, they never had the city of Dublin, they never had the whole kingdom in their possession, or under their power; and, which is more than all the rest, they never had the colour or pretence of authority before this time.
VII. That the Protestants there, unless speedily relieved, must Necessarily be ruined.—For the Irish, having no money, cannot fupport their vast army, without free quarter on the English. Add »t> this, the decay and full stop of trade, and the many other insupportable difficulties they labour under, and their ruin will appear inevitable without present relief.
VIII. That no people in the world are in so miserable a condi. tion as the Protestants of Ireland.—For they are not only insulted over by their own servants, and in a certain way of beggary, but are also in continual fear, and under imminent danger of being massacred,
IX. That the English government hath been easy and favourable to the Irish.—And this evidently appears by one slight instance, viz. That the grand jury, and the whole county of Cork, had more trouble and charge to get rid of two Irish attornies in the sherill's court, and at last could not effect it, than the Irish have had to turn out most of the civil and military Protestant officers in that kingdom, though some of them had good patents for their places; and it is beyond dispute, that, for many years past, the Irish never wanted such friends at Whitehall, as made their affairs run glib in all courts of judicature, and elsewhere.
X. That, nevertheless, many of the Irish, and some degenerate English, would rather live under any government than that of England.—And this happens partly from the difference of humours, manners, and customs between them and us, and partly, because they look up on the first conquest of Ireland, and the subsequent confiscations to be injurious, and think a foreigner would restore them; but chiefly this aversion is to be attributed to the difference in religion, they conceiving us to be obstinate incorrigible hereticks, and therefore they have often invited the Pope, French, and Spaniard, to accept of the government of that kingdom.
XI. That tenJhousand English, well furnished and conducted, never were, nor never can be beaten by the Irish in that kingdom.— The first assertion is true, and the second is rational; for, allowing the Irish gentry to be brave enough, yet the commoners have not courage or skill equal to the English, or near it; nor can the Irish keep more than ten or twelve-thousand men together any long time, for want of forage and other necessaries.
XII. However, less than fifteen, or perhaps twentyJhousand men, ought not now to attempt Ireland;—because it will be neces. sary to make descents in several places; and, when garisons, and other necessary detachments, are deducted, there will not remain above ten or twelve-thousand for the field.
XIII. If these twenty-thousand were divided into three bodies, in all probability there would be none, or very weak and short resistance.—For if four-thousand landed in Ulster, six-thousand in Munster, and ten-thousand in the heart of the kingdom, the Irish would be distracted, and not know where to turn; for they have neither officers nor soldiers capable to make three distinct armies; experience will manifest, that, in that case, finding themselves attacked on all sides, Tyrconnel would retire to Athlone, and thence to Galway, and, in the first ship he could get, shift for himself as well as he could.
XIV. However, reasonable conditions should not be denied them, if they will submit quietly.—For, besides that it may prevent much