of his sincerity for the public good; it is manifest
he changes but for himself, and takes the people for
tools to work his fortune. Yet the experience
of all ages might let him know, that they, who trouble
the waters first, have seldom the benefit of fishing;
as they who began the late rebellion, enjoyed not
the fruit of their undertaking, but were crushed themselves
by the usurpation of their own instrument. Neither
is it enough for them to answer, that they only intend
a reformation of the government, but not the subversion
of it: on such pretence all insurrections have
been founded; it is striking at the root of power,
which is obedience. Every remonstrance of private
men has the seed of treason in it; and discourses,
which are couched in ambiguous terms, are therefore
the more dangerous, because they do all the mischief
of open sedition, yet are safe from the punishment
of the laws. These, my lord, are considerations,
which I should not pass so lightly over, had I room
to manage them as they deserve; for no man can be
so inconsiderable in a nation, as not to have a share
in the welfare of it; and if he be a true Englishman,
he must at the same time be fired with indignation,
and revenge himself as he can on the disturbers of
his country. And to whom could I more fitly apply
myself than to your lordship, who have not only an
inborn, but an hereditary loyalty? The memorable
constancy and sufferings of your father, almost to
the ruin of his estate, for the royal cause, were
an earnest of that, which such a parent and such an
institution would produce in the person of a son.
But so unhappy an occasion of manifesting your own
zeal, in suffering for his present majesty, the providence
of God, and the prudence of your administration, will,
I hope, prevent; that, as your father’s fortune
waited on the unhappiness of his sovereign, so your
own may participate of the better fate which attends
his son. The relation, which you have by alliance
to the noble family of your lady, serves to confirm
to you both this happy augury. For what can deserve
a greater place in the English chronicle, than the
loyalty and courage, the actions and death, of the
general of an army, fighting for his prince and country?
The honour and gallantry of the earl of Lindsey is
so illustrious a subject, that it is fit to adorn
an heroic poem; for he was the proto-martyr of the
cause, and the type of his unfortunate royal master[3].
Yet after all, my lord, if I may speak my thoughts,
you are happy rather to us than to yourself; for the
multiplicity, the cares, and the vexations of your
employment, have betrayed you from yourself, and given
you up into the possession of the public. You
are robbed of your privacy and friends, and scarce
any hour of your life you can call your own.
Those, who envy your fortune, if they wanted not good-nature,
might more justly pity it; and when they see you watched
by a crowd of suitors, whose importunity it is impossible
to avoid, would conclude, with reason, that you have
lost much more in true content, than you have gained
by dignity; and that a private gentleman is better
attended by a single servant, than your lordship with
so clamorous a train. Pardon me, my lord, if
I speak like a philosopher on this subject; the fortune,
which makes a man uneasy, cannot make him happy; and
a wise man must think himself uneasy, when few of his
actions are in his choice.