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mischief, and save the effusion of Christian blood, it is unchristian to force them to desperation; they should have indemnity for what is past, and a connivance at the private exercise of their religion, by a competent number of priests, for the future. This offer justifies our moderation, and, if refused, leaves them without excuse.
XV. Whatever conditions are offered them, will be rejected or postponed, unless backed with a sufficient force.—For they are in hopes of aid from France, and have very little foresight of what is future. It is not unusual amongst them, to defy one day what they tremble at the next. It has been always a principal maxim in their politicks, to procrastinate and delay their submission, in hopes of imaginary succours, until they plunged themselves sometimes into a sea of misery, and it looks as if their destiny inclines that way now.
XVI. That the Irish estates are sufficient to defray the charge of reducing them to their duty.—For of ten millions of plantation, acres of land, which there are in Ireland, the Irish have a fourth part, which, to be purchased, is worth three millions of pounds.
XVII. That the Protestants are already damnified to that value, and in three months more will suffer as much again.—For, besides the interruption in trade and business, bad debts, and the particular wrongs and injuries done them, the losses of those that were forced to fly to England and elsewhere, the very land is one third part lessened in the yearly value; and the two thirds remaining are not worth so many years purchase by a third part, as they were anno 1684. For example, three-hundred per annum, at twelve years purchase, being three.thousand six.hundred pounds, is now but two-hundred pounds, at eight years purchase, which is one-thoc. sand six-hundred pounds.
XVIII. The Protestants of Ireland had been eternally ruined, if it were not for the glorious atehitvements of the Prince of Orange. —For, if they are in so ill condition at this day, in what case would they have been, if France had leisure and means to assist the Irish, and England (in a civil war) not able to relieve the Protestants there?
XIX. The policy and true scheme of government was totally overturned in Ireland.—For where reason and the interest of Eng» land required, that the English colony should be protected by an English army; and whereas a Protestant parliament in Ireland had raised a great revenue to the crown, mostly paid by Protestants, in order to maintain a Protestant army, on the quite contrary, that army was disbanded, with circumstances as bad as the fact, and Papists introduced to guard us against themselves; and Irish brought to garison within those walls, that were purposely built to keep them out.
XX. The law was likewise subverted.— For the force and energy of the law being resolved into trials by jury, when the judge, sheriff, jury, witness and party were all of a piece, and that in a country where perjury is so frequent, that Irish evidence is become proverbially scandalous, what could an English Protestant expect, but that many notorious murders should pass unpunished.. many forged deeds should be trumped up, and many hundreds of English indicted, drawn in question, and prosecuted, without so much as a probability, or colour of truth?
XXf. These injuries would have been perpetuated and legitimated, and our religion and nation destroyed there by law.— For they dissolved all corporations, on forged or frivolous pretences, and in so precipitate a manner, that they did not give competent time to draw, much less to review the pleadings. They projected to call the eldest sons of Popish noblemen by writ, and so made themselves sure of both houses of an Irish parliament.
XXIF. That the disbanded Protestant officers deserve, and are fit to be employed in the recovery of Ireland—They deserve it, and all the countenance that can be shewn them, because they have suffered much (and few people consider how much) merely for their religion and country. And they are fit, because they are acquainted with the country, the climate, and the inhabitants, and are, beyond objection, zealous in this cause.
XXIII. That the prince wants neither courage, conduct, reputation, or zeal.—His attempt in England manifested his courage, his success demonstrated his conduct, and confirmed his reputation; and, for the rest, the same motives, that induced him to come hither, are still in being, and will prevail to advance his victorious arms to Ireland.
XXIV. There is nothing wanting but a settled legal authority and money.—For, though necessity justifies pro hoc vice, yet our law knows no authority but what is regal; without that there can be no parliament, nor indeed no obligation to obedience (or at most but temporary.) And as for money, though it is impossible to make a general tax seasonably for the relief of Ireland, yet, perhaps a good vote of espousing the Irish concern may give credit to raise a fund, for a service so necessary and beneficial to England.
XXV- The army will be in more danger of famine than sword.-~ For, besides that the enemy will destroy and burn all he can, there is not in the country provision enough for both armies, and therefore great magazines must be erected at Chester, Bristol, Milford, &c. how much money soever it may cost.
XXVI. All private undertakings, in this matter of Ireland, are vain.—For no one body is able to do much, and confederacies and partnerships are lame and uncertain, because the failure of any one spoils all. Nor did any private undertaker of publick affairs ever succeed in Ireland; witness Sir Thomas Smith's project in the Ardes, and Walter Earl of Essex's in Clandeboy and the Ferny.
XXVII. That whoever takes commission here, to raise men in Ireland, does that country a great deal of wrong.—For either he takes some poor dispirited people, or such farmers, labourers, or tradesmen, as would be more useful in their vocation; or he takes others, that would, of their own accord, and without pay in the militia, or otherwise, fight for their lives, families, and estates; every 'way he robs the country of people, and hinders those that else would be raised here, and go from hence; and he makes the government depend on a broken reed, for it is impossible any men should be raised and accoutred there time enough to do service, and fit to do it.
Lastly, Though the Irish submit, yet Ireland will need a conside, rable English army.—For that kingdom is much depopulated, and there will be danger of some French attempt. But, besides all this, he knows little of Ireland, who thinks that the Irish army (when disbanded) will ever be brought to work for their living. On the contrary, many of them will turn tories; so that, if there be not a good army in the kingdom, it will be as unsafe and troublesome as in time of war.
A TRUE COPY OF A LETTER
RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF MULGRAVE, TO Dr. TILLOTSON, DEAN OF CANTERBURY.
Folio, containing four Pages*
I OTHING in this world is, or ought to be so dear to any man, as his reputation; and consequently the defence of it is the greatest obligation that one man can lay on another. There are also some circumstances, that render this obligation yet more acceptable and valuable; as when it is conferred generously, without any self-interest, or the It ast desire or invitation from the person so defended. All this happens to be my case at this time; and therefore, I hope, you will not be surprised to find I am not the most ungrateful and insensible man living; which certainly I should be, if I did not acknowledge all your industrious concern for me, about the business of the ecclesiastical commission, which now makes so much noise in the world. You have, as I am told, so cordially pleaded my cause, that it is almost become your own; and therefore, as unwilling as I am to speak of myself, especially in a business which I cannot wholly ex, cuse; yet I think myself now a little obliged to shew my part in thismatter; though imprudent enough, yet is not altogether unworthy of so just and so considerable an advocate.
The less a man says of himself, the better; and it is so well known already, how I was kept out of all the secret councils, that I need not justify myelf, or trouble you, as to those matters; only I ap, peal to the unquestionable testimony of the Spanish ambassador, if I did not zealously and constantly take all occasions to oppose the French interest; because I knew it directly opposite both to die king and kingdom's good, which are indeed things inseparable, and ought to be so accounted, as a fundamental maxim in all councils of princes. This, I hope, will prepare the way a little for what I have to say concerning my being one of the ecclesiastical commissioners; of which error I am now as sensible, as I was at first ignorant, being so unhappily conversant in the midst of a perpetual court-flattery, as never to have heard the least word of any illegality in that commission, before I was unfortunately engaged in it. For, though my lord of Canterbury had very prudently refused to be of it, yet it was talked at court, it proceeded only from his unwillingness to act at that time, and not from any illegality he suspected in the commission: having excused himself from it the most respectful way, by the infirmities he lay under. Being thus ignorant of the laws, and in such a station at court, I need not desire a man of your judgment and candour, to consider the hardness of my case, when I was commanded to serve in a commission with a lord chancellor, a lord chief justice, and two bishops, who had all of them already acted some time there, without shewing the least diffidence of their power, or hesitation in the execution of it. And, perhaps, a man, of more discretion than I can pretend to, might have been easily persuaded to act in such a conjunction, and to think he might do it safely, both in law and conscience. But I need not say much to shew my desire to have avoided, if possible, a troublesome employment, that had not the least temptation of honour or profit to recommend it; and which therefore I continued in upon no account in the world, but to serve both king and clergy with the little ability I had, in moderating those councils, which I thought might grow higher, if I left my place to be filled by any of those who waited for it greedily, in order to their ill designs.
And I may expect the more credit in this, when it is considered that the two important affairs which passed in that ecclesiastical court, being the Bishop of London's suspension, and the incapacitating the members of Magdalen College; the first was done some months before I was a commissioner, and I opposed the last, both in voting and speaking, and with all the interest I was able to make use of, which indeeed was but little after that opposition; in which being out voted, I seldom came, and never acted in that court after, except to restore the bishop of London, though sent for continually, by reason of my lodging so near it.
And, since I have been forced to mention my good will at least, if not my service, to such learned men of the clergy who I thought deserved it, it may be allowed me to give this one instance more of it; that, although in preferring men to all other places of the houshold, I ever used to ask permission first, and, accordingly, was often refused, for the sake of Roman Catholicks, and others, who were recommended by persons more in favour than myself; yet I was so careful of keeping that considerable part of the family unmixed with mean or unworthy chaplains, whom others, I feared, would have imposed on his majesty, that I constantly filled up those vacancies, without giving him the least notice or trouble about it, and supplied them with the ablest approved divines I could possibly find, most commonly recommended to me by the bishops who were not of the court: Which I conceived the most proper course, in a matter concerning clergymen, with a king of a different persuasion from theirs, and intended for his real service, believing it had been better for him, as well as the kingdom, if the greater ecclesiastical dignities had been disposed of by others with as much caution.
And thus, Sir, I have endeavoured to confirm you in your favourable opinion of me, which must be acknowledged by every body an approbation of such weight, that, as I hope it may be an example of authority to many, so it is sufficient of itself to balance the censoriousness of others.
I am, Sir,
Your obliged humble Servant,
FELLOW-COMMONER OF ENGLAND,
FELLOW-COMMONERS OF THE CONVENTION. Printed in the year 1689. Quarto, containing eight pages.
W HE present providence deserves our most serious thoughts; and truly, Sir, I cannot but say, that we are extremely obliged to the great goodness and valour of the Prince of Orange, who, with such hazard and expence, has brought us so seasonable and eminent a deliverance from Popery, and, I hope, from arbitrary power also. Sir, we cannot give him too much, unless we give him more than our own (the crown I mean) ; we have been of a long time taught, that is not the gift or work of subjects. Sovereign princes have made bold with one another, but I am of opinion, whatever malice may suggest against his highness, he was too noble a soul to be guilty of such an attempt. He came not hither for greatness; he has it of his own, and brought it with him, and values being Optimus more than Maximus, which is the best way of joining that imperial stile together Optimus Maximus. I say, I am confident it is more than he will judge proper to receive, and that he will think it more for his glory to reduce the monarchy to its just and legal establishment, than to be king himself, and to secure us against Popery, than to lead us into the errors of it,