THe night now begins to draw up her fable Sailes, and lets downe to us a springing Twi­light; which though faint and thin, yet after so thick a darknesse (as of late years hath Curtain'd o're this Island) brings much com­fort with it. The Morne (like a recovering sick man) looks yet pallid & puling; and though it be nothing comparable to that light the eye is capable of, (nor its fullest receipt but the satisfying the fift part of a sensible Creature:) yet it seems drest in a fuller Clarity, because it appeares after so black a storme. This dubious duskishnesse presents our pre­sent Actions confused, like their stories if woven in Arras, when we look upon the knotted out-side: or as if an ancient Eye should goe about to reade them in a small print. Here we may perceive men walke like trees, but Affaires being mana­ged beyond the levell of the Eye; we cannot reach to a perfect discovery. And yet methinks this inlarging Dawne promi­seth [Page 2]a Birth that shall terminate our adversities, and grow to a strength able to discloud our long night: That these new-borne-rayes will gild our sadned hearts, and burnish o're our duller Hopes. If then hitherto we have been wilfully blind, let not our eyes prove enemies to us still; but let us rather teare out that thick filme to make use of this beneficiall Pro­spect: And perhaps if this Day-break lend us but so much light as to lead us into a path, our going forward may happily bring us to our owne doores. To the attaining of which won­ted blessing, this early light promiseth faire, and seemes to degree it selfe by the more noble surprisall, because so unexpe­ctedly let in upon us. For seeing it enables us already to di­stinguish the benefit of our appearing comforts from the mi­sery of past misfortunes, let us make use of it to further the one, though we cannot remedy the other, and by detesting the authors of our woes, make way to recrowne the finisher of our happinesse. In expectance of which future good, let us create to our selves this present benefit, to summon all our powers and faculties into our Eyes, (calling them there to councell) and then they will the better satisfie our judgement: though on the sudden our thoughts are ravell'd into disorder, because burthened with hopes, feares, doubts, desires, suspicions, and amazements; like waters forsaking that by-ditch which the un­skilful Drayners of these times, drew them into, and are try­ing severall Channels to returne to their right streame. This glimmering light thus hopefully assuring us the restauration of a Day, we may be all partakers of the beneficiall happi­nesse thereof if we please. But how welcome to the Royall partie, (whose tedious habitation in such an imprisoned shade have often forc'd them to sigh out that complaint of good old Tobie, Quale gaudium est mihi quia in tenebris sedeo?) None can more truely know, save those whose desperate and weighty miseries, have made them more capable of the worth [Page 3]of so large a blessing. The expectation whereof is pleasant, but our fruition more pleasant; what now nourisheth our springing hopes, shall then crowne our full grown enjoyment. In the meane time let us (like the pleased birds) forsake these long confined nests, to prune our dull and unrefreshed thoughts, and with our cheerfullest notes thank Heaven for this Day-break.

And that we may set a greater value upon the promised day, let us reflect a little upon our past night; where we may see our Sun totally swallowed up by darknesse, and our Moon wa­ding through an envious Eclipse; Stars of the first magnitude maskt o're with clouds, and thousands of our fixed lamps be­come wandring Planets: our chiefest Tapers puft or snuft out, or else lanthorn'd in an imprison'd dungeon. In fine, (to our discomfort) we may behold our Glories blurr'd, and all our comforts Tarnished. But happy we, if this Twi-light usher us the way to view a glimpse of our former condition, perhaps it may lead us to a fuller prospect, where we may see the Glo­ry of this Nation growne up to the top of the spire, and Hap­pinesse drest in her fullest flourish, where pleasures were pre­sented with a towring delight, and our Gardens wanted no beautifull trimming. Who grew waspish when any questi­on'd our Title of prescription for Prosperity, and thought Hea­ven did us much injury to sue forth a Writ De executione De­cretis for the possession of that we had enjoyed Time out of mind? But alas! pernitious weeds grew up with these flowers, Omne in praecipiti vitium stetit. We (quam Jocus circumvolat) were too happy and proud, which made us wanton, and lo! in an instant wilfull Resolution drawing the Curtaine, the flowers of our felicity were straight forgot, & nunc non erat his locus: Such fruit as our industrious Summer nourisht, our destroy­ing Winter hath utterly perisht: and yet we doe not feelingly deplore our unhappinesse, as the depth of it exacts. And [Page 4]though an eternall and never-fading youth seemed to be conferr'd upon us, as the Gods did upon Prometheus off­spring, yet we (like them) foolishly entrusted this bounteous gift to the silly Asse, who for a draught of water sold it to Ser­pents. Nor staid we here at this losse, for our further impro­vidence gained us the title of adoption to Epimetheus, when we so greedily accepted of Pandora's prostituted Box, which (ha­ving as rashly opened) let out all misfortunes upon us; (onely we had so much discretion to retaine Hope in the bottome.) For at the first view of these late Troubles, how false did our hu­morous and purblind eyes see? and yet renouncing them, what deceitfull and perverse spectacles have we ever since trusted? How did we suffer our mischiefes to steale in upon us like an Hectick Feaver (that in the beginning was difficult to be di­scovered, and easie to be avoided, but at length became more easily knowne, and harder to be cured:) and which, sicut unda sequitur undam, like water in the sea, one throng'd into the neck of another. At what a rate did we hire a War, and how many vast summes did we bring in to throw away?

How rashly did we mow down our well-grown happinesse? and how hast ly did we obnubulate our ful-spread glories? How did we spurne at that precious jewell, Peace? and dig­ging its Grave, bury all that we could call comfort, in it? How did we chase our selves into destruction with a sharpned [...]ur, (hac Tuba rixa) never seeking to check the rains till we fell our selves over head and eares beyond recovery? and then strugling against the tyde striving to break those threat­ening waves) into how great dangers hath it intituled us? How did we burry our Sun into the West being offended with [Page 5]the glory of too bright a Ray? How did we court a rising and prodigious Moone, whose borrowed light onely [...]d us to an unwearied destruction? Fools that we were! to rush into a Quarrell in the Dark, when our ignorant-dealt blowes woun­ded friends as well as foes: Had our Swords been deliberate­ly unsheath'd, (and in the Day) they might have discern'd the true opposite or known the way to their peacefull Scab­bards. Sed jam Serpentum major concordia: whilst contesting for Trifles, and rushing into the fray unadvisedly, in how ma­ny sad and destructive Dilemma's have our astonisht thoughts been bound? What perilous and unknown Coasts, Rocks, Flaws, Sands, and Shallowes, in this troubled Ocean, hath this darkned tempest driven us upon? so that indeed we seem'd lost to all felicity; yet verily we have seen the wonders of the Lord in this great deep. And truly our disasters may not un­fitly be paralleld with the raging Seas, who are running and roaring with unresistable force, and which every Minute threatens inevitable ruine; but thanks be to that protecting hand which hath supported many of our unweildy barkes, making the fidelity of that Element fully manifest in their pre­servation, and safely convey'd them to a promising-secure- Harbour.

The confessed truth is, our prosperity was great, and we so fully possest of it, that (had we been as circumspect as care­lesse) we might imagine adversity could not be far off; which when it came (and comming so unexpectedly) did more roughly dispossesse us of the blessings we injoy'd; then if we had met it with a prepared bosome.

But our night it approach'd, and like that of Penelope's hath ravel'd and undone all that our day did weave; a night! (though nights be common and darknesse familiar to us yet this we may well bestow a wonder upon) which overwhelm'd us in such solid darknesse, darknesse so collected, that indeed [Page 6]it was felt; because the shaded mantle was folded so many double.

These thick shades made us languish even to the utmost gaspe, during which, if we saw any light at all, 'twas terible as lightning, and fatall as a comet; never appearing, but at­tended with destructive thunder: which left nothing behind but a feeble blew, dull and heavy as a melancholly snuffe expi­ring in a socket. 'Tis true, that now and then, though our clouds were loaded with such contracted shade, yet they affor­ded a few seeming benefits, and opened the way to some fla­ming Meteors appearance; but immediately skrein'd them a­gain, (and therein became friendly to us) lest our over-ea­ger belief (giving to these false fires and credit of morning stars, should lend us, hopes of an approaching twylight, which yet they were not pleas'd to disco [...] nor unlock those early dores, for our long imprisoned Sun to shew him­selfe.

During these weighty afflictions, nothing seemed to prog­nosticate our ruine so much as the despairing hearts we carried about us; because fortune continued so constant to her frownes; yet alas! that onely was in regard she had a long while used us to them. But the same skill that satisfied us how our prosperity was maintain'd, might have foretold us of the approaching danger; Nay, yet we may thereby foresee our deliverance if we will not live in resolv'd blindness. And time it is, since 'tis our selves that ruine our selves, we can charge none else with the guilt. All our glory, wealth, pro­sperity, happinesse, comforts, and felicities, nay the choice of blessings, Peace! have been buried in a grave of our owne digging: and upon which no other monument must be ere­cted, then the broken and scattered pyles of our owne ruines. Our former daies were the white paper, and our five yeares night, the Acts of our sad Tragedies, written thereon not in [Page 7] Inke, but in Bloud; making up the Volume of our past and present age: in which (without Spectacles) we may read the saddest losses ever came to a people. Never was Age so thick sowne with the venemous spawne of Civill discen­tion, which (like Cadmus Teeth) immediately produced whole troups of Felo de se's: who (had they been wise) should rather have imployed their Tongues in licking, then their Teeth in biting such deep wounds. And for sa­crilegious Imps, nature, nor liberty ever yet produced their equall. How many houses of God have they destroyed in the Land! nay; what Church is it that hath scap'd plundering? Surely they that violate the place of Gods dwelling can never truly honour him. And as the Temples of God, so the Temples of the Holy Ghost (lay'd up there in a safe repose) have suffered pillaging. Having not spa­red to strip the [...] of such robes, as pious hands had drest them in, to let Posterity know them by their Monuments; nor forborne to ransack them of their meanest clothes, their bare Coffins; leaving no Epitaph but (what they could not take away) the bloudy Veines in the remaining Marble.

Monuments were erected to preserve and perpetuate the memories and noble actions of such as have lived ho­nourably, and died vertuously, and no lesse then a condem­nation to the Gallies, or grinding at the Mill did our pru­dent Auncestors impose upon the Violators thereof, be­cause the offence was reputed a crime infamous, and e­quall to Perjury; and the Offendour guilty both of Theft and Sacriledge: But I leave these deeds of darknesse, to be punished by the Prince of darknesse, and proceed.

We have now at length by wofull and dear-bought experience found, what private Machivilian power it was gave Law to Justice, and what clandestine projects (like [Page 8]the primum mobile) gave motion to these multitudes of mis­chief. As for our Laws, like those whereof Tacitus com­plains, invalido legum auxilio, quae vi, ambitu, postremo pecunia turbabantur, they afford no security, being sway'd hither and thither by might, ambition, and corruption. All that is now left us, is, to sit down, & number up our former blessings: A poor comfort! to look back upon these, and forward upon approaching miseries: so that we may in­forcedly cry out in that patheticall exclamation, ô ubi e­stes fontes lacrimarum! what is become of you ye foun­taines of teares! are you dried up by the preaching of hardned hearts? or converted into bloud, by the cracking of the eye-strings? but our hopes, are, that our sorrows and pressures are skru'd up to their highest pitch, and itch­ing fingers being unwilling to leave them at that stay, the other wind may perchance break the string; and so give freedome to an escape, from a supposed-inevitable-ruine.

And then (as want shews the true valuation of that thing, our unexamined enjoyment made too cheap) when we are afforded so much light to see what we have so long lost, sure we shall more esteem its return then when we possest it; and probably improve it to a better advan­tage; For, Dulce est nomen pacis & res ipsa perquam salu­tares, sweet is the name and healthfull the nature of bles­sed Peace. But it will never appear in our Horizon, till our Kingly Sun arise again, upon whose Glory it waits as a neer attendant which will not be long now: for this Na­tion when shufled out of a regular course by any former distempers, like the wandring needle never left trembling, till it had setled it self upon the point of Monarchy, to which it naturally owes affection. Yet to such who mur­mer at the Snales pace, observed, in the carriage on of such a designe as the restauration of a Crowne; and who [Page 9]impatiently study to adde wings to dispatch, or lead on these affaires in a more direct path; let them know, nihil dictu facilius, Men may sooner project then execute; nor may every projection be attempted, or every attempt, pur­su'd. That time is fittest which Heaven appoints, and bu­sinesse is then ripe, when the decree is ready to go forth. Nay, if we rightly consider, we may highly prize the slow progresse this dawning makes; and think our happinesse the more surely founded, when the day breaks on us Gra­datim. Sudden flashes affright with horror, and portend short glories, when as a Twilight that hath a degreeing ap­pearance promiseth a serene and quiet Day. Should a Meridian luster now rash in upon us, it might dazle us with an ore-powerfull brightnesse; and tempt us beside our trusty path, for sensibile fortè destruit sensum, too strong an object vanquisheth the sight, and may perhaps chase us into a deluded precipitation. We have an old Adage, (and they seldome faile of verity) that (many times) the farthest way about, is the nearest way home: Councels managed by a leisurely progression (if conceal'd) thrive best; though I confesse execution and dispatch should be driven on with a nimble hand. Let us not then afflict our hopes, by fearing they are over-lingered, but wait with a patient expectation of fruition in its ripest sea­son. What obstructions have interveen'd, we are behol­ding to London for, who might long ere this (had they been composed of any thing but dis-loyall earth and per­fidious basenesse) have put faire for the re-instating of His Majesty, and set a happy period, to ours, and their own long mis-fortunes. But that City must smart, yet, againe, and a third time; that proud City! which being seated un­der the Aequinoctiall, and favour'd (above all) with a constant perpendicular ray; was never contented, till it [Page 10]had pick'd a quarrell with a Cryme of too much sommer, and forc'd the Sun more Northward from it; but 'tis no matter, its ingratitude hath since been frost-nipt with a multitude of coldest miseries: and sensibly felt the smart of a perishing winter. For, how many of its Inhabitants like Fishes, left on a dry shore, have perished? when His Majesty (like a wave) remov'd, and how many fair-spred flowers in that royall Garden, (like the Helitropian) shrunk in their leaves when He departed? 'Twas appa­rent by the courses of those ruinous Tenants, that they took to themselves Leases for many Lives without im­peachment of wast, but they will prove but Tenants at will: and now their Land-lords are about to out them, 'tis to no purpose to keep a forcible Deteynor. No, not­withstanding their combination and league with that hor­rid darknesse which hath blasted the face of this King­dome; and by which united closenesse they became a Cloyster for crimes, and a shade to cover Sin.

Machivilians! whose clandestine contrivements have rock'd us into a lethargy, and led us into those bloudy-blind Paths; which had we had our eyes open, no strata­gem (how plausible soever) could ever have drawne us within its nosse. Ambitious spirits! whose end was their owne oppulency and greatnesse, and our indigence and vas­salage. Pilates, and Herods! (for magna inter molles con­cordia) whose bloudy confederacy, crucified Christ afresh in his Members. Owles! what will now blush and vanish to behold the light, which must betray their basenesse; but indeed these sons of Terviah were too hard for us, [Page 11]yet the justice of Heaven is most remarkable; for though through their dark practises, our glorious Sun became Eclips'd, yet have they suffered for want of his influence: Though the Culminating bold-fac'd Moone hath usurp'd the regall house ever since, yet how sharply the reines of her Government hath curb'd them, all yet miserably feel. Culpam poena premit Comes.

And now if ever they mean to be saved, the chief Ar­ticle of their Creed must be in their Suns ascension into Glory; and the next in their Moones descension into Hell: Their only hope must rest in this, that when this worlds bright Eye appears again, he will look upon them, with his wonted compassion; to thaw the icy cold that hath be­numm'd them into a senslesse stupidity, and stifned them into Rebellion; and to disperce amongst them his usuall nourishing influence. But the truth is, they have little de­serv'd so large a blessing as his return, who have so long while unmask'd his favours, and put on a vizard; and in stead of rendring a pleased countenance, return'd an un­gratefull menace. However I cannot altogether blame the Generality, though Omnes errorem bibunt, nor too sharply censure the face of things, when presented to ma­ny through a false Glasse. 'Tis charity makes me so ten­der herein, and withall I cannot but remember that of Ovid: ‘Parcite paucorum diffundere crimen in omnes.’

I know, and confesse, Disparagements are quickly pro­claim'd, but not so easily retriv'd: that affection and dis­like are like the two ends of a Prospective glasse, where the one lessons, and the other multiplies. Silly Soules! their deluded understanding and grosse ignorance, made many of them censorious; but such as thought by de­traction [Page 12]to be esteemed wise discovered themselves the most malicious fools. What dark insinuations were skr [...]'d into execution, to dismount that awe & reverence His Ma­jesty justly held over His Subjects hearts? How many base conceptions were hiv'd in waspish minds? their baser Tongues usurping the Bedles lash; such were the venome of blasphemous mouths, and the undutifulnesse of rebelli­ous prompters, but 'tis naturall for Dogs to bark against the Moone; and those discreet judgments that had taken a Pill for this contagion, were not to be accounted unhap­py: for my self (as Horace in another case) ‘Quodcun (que) ostendit mihi sic incredulus odi.’

I have much wonder'd whence these detractions should spring? unlesse from the receipt of too large favours: and indeed when men become Bankrupts, their gratitude oft-times converts to discourtesies. But 'tis more won­derfull to consider how so many quivers of scandalous arrows have been emptied out against His Majesty, who yet standing like the unpierc'd marble, hath shatter'd them all: which to mention is not so fit as to rake together and burne; lest their splinters should wrancle posterity, who perhaps may want the ages salve, viz. a full and vi­sible confutation: should any of us indure so narrow an inquisition into our actions, I feare we should be found guilty of corrupt tinctures, our baser mettals are too full of drosse, but his Gold hath return'd out of the crucible without wast. And yet (ô incomparable magnanimity!) though so abusively detracted, doth offer to make him­selfe altogether incapable of future revenge, and what wounds these multiplied injuries have seemed to make; his not taking notice hath fully cured; or else his for­givenesse shall weare out the scar.

I can parallel His unfortunate Majesty to none more fit­ly, [Page 13]then to that resolute and couragious Athenian Soul­dier; who being vanquished in a navall fight, layed hold of one of his Enemies Ships, and when his right hand was cut off held fast by the left, and when that was chopt off, maintain'd his hold with his Teeth. So His Ma­jesty, losing His own Army, betook His trust to the out­side-Scot, that trustlesse and hypocriticall refuge; where losing (as it were, His right hand) He held up His interest with the Independent, who as perfideously lopt off the left also; and left (to every judgment) no appearance of saving relief, and yet we see He still preserves His life and integrity with His last reserve: a constant resolution, which sinewing with unweakned nerves, he holds them tugging, unwearied, and unremov'd: sharpning the one to what His abilities for all Opposers, and sweetning the other to oppose what His sad fate hath too prodigally furnished Him with. Unkind fortune! why hast thou dealt so un­kindly with Him in dealing His Cards? that if discreet and wary resolution had not made Him a good Gamester, the Set had been irrecoverably lost. But His God is the same He was at the beginning, and now (as then) hath brought light out of darknesse. His Majesty is become happy meerly by His unhappinesse: and they are His misfortunes that have proclam'd His heroick worth. Per­chance we had never taken notice of the lustre of His wis­dome, but through this black Eclipse: nor of His even carriage in His sinking adversities, but by the rough ca­pering of the surly waves. His silent patience discovered His injuries more fully, then perhaps His publick com­plaints would, and so just a temper in all accidents did never appear in any brest. His mildnesse still met them as yeilding wooll doth the stroke of iron; which is a more noble victory then that gain'd by opposition: Nay, of all [Page 14] victories, His, must needs be the greatest, for He hath con­quer'd His patience, and having laid a foundation upon so firme a vertue, His greatnesse rear'd thereon cannot fall, especially having the support of many other. But now to consider with what admirable constancy He hath wea­ther'd out this time of durance, tiring his adversaries with complying sufferance, (making his sweet returns surer then golden baits to catch them with) lest earnest contesta­tion might strike their sharpned hooke the deeper into his sides. All the provocations he hath been continually as­saulted (which to a slacking fury would have proved like bellowes) could never transport him in his lowest estate, nor quicken him into any sharp returns: and when new tortures were found out for his patience, they proved but as fresh invitements, to contract and knit it more firm and stronger; and this 'twas made his resolution more solid and compact. Briefly, like a wise Physitian, he converted all their poysonous drugs into a medicinable quality. And therefore the greatest crime for which his preciser Adver­saries scoft at him, was, for being (like that antient Gre­cian Patriarch) singly so good and pious, in so bad and im­pious times: when turn-coat vices were so universally in fashion. But these His Princely vertues of justice, wisdom, clemency, courage, and devotion, have proved all assistants to strengthen him in the bustle of these contestations, and most sure clues to lead him out of so difficult Maze [...]. Nay! his undaunted resolutions, like the Eagle, fear'd not to encounter the loud- tongu'd Thunder, and confron­ted that quarter of Heaven, where lightning and tem­pest most raged: witnesse those many spurns of Fortune he has received, and those many shocks of envy he hath endured, and yet continues safe and whole. His wisdome hath been so great that the subtill Serpent cannot out­strip, [Page 15]and his innocence so spotlesse, that the Doves is not more. In the generality of his actions he hath appeared a­bove the ordinary levell of Princes, like a most noble scutcheon, upon which only the Almighty hath blazon'd all the bearings of vertue and honour. He hath manifested himself a Piece of that season'd worth, that the pens of this Age cannot sufficiently describe, for if they should attempt it, his vertues would presse in so thick together, that they'd choake the current of the ablest fancy; being (indeed) not fit to be delivered with the ordinary liberty of speech, but rather by the wel-ordered and majestick de­livery of an Angell; But however,

In fine, no Prince ere shrin'd up so many vertues, or was more pious, or unfortunate,

Yet when he was removed from his Throne, they (per­force) left him the greatest dignity, for nobilitas sola est at (que) unica, virtus; and when he was dispossest of three Kingdoms, yet stil he injoy'd a larger seignory, for virtus est optima possessio, but what would have been the issue of his imprisonment, Heavens all-discerning eye onely saw, Prona est Timori semper in pejus fides. In such dubious cases give us leave to fear the worst. I believe they strove to make him happy, but I as verily believe it must have been verified in the Philosophers sense, foelix ante obitum nemo. And Carisbrook-Castle I am as fully satisfied, was prepared with the same intention the murdering-Shirt was for Agamemnon; out of which it was impossible for [Page 16]him to scape. Ungratefull Ocean! who after this Suns long daies driving his troublesome chariot, courting him into her bosome, to quench the thirst of his Steeds, and to refresh himself, turn'd to a bottomlesse deep, and betray'd him into an insatiable Gulph, where he (ô complementall treachery!) had been irrecoverably drown'd, but for those loyall and unexpected hands, that are now boying him up again: And thanks be unto God for this timely appearing deliverance, and opening unto him a passage by so un­expected a dore. During this time of durance, what hap­pinesse was it for a King to own the latitude of three King­doms, who was thus confin'd to as few rooms; where he had little or no recreation, but what he receiv'd by that re­flex of his many misfortunes, which by him were never merited, nor by us can be sufficiently lamented. Here His patience indured the strictest touch, for the Ministers of Sathan were set upon every side to buffet him; and his lowest Vassals that sought to undermine him, when they could not do it, raised themselves high to crush him with their power. And now it was they acted all below-board, having their times and seasons as darke, as the wishes of such light haters could possibly lim out; shewing him lesse mercy then his relation required, and more tyran­ny then his faults could deserve: which exceedingly strengthned this suspition that that Sword might secure­ly cut off, which so privately fetch'd its blow: the feare whereof to the souls of his loyall Subjects was really, ab­sinthio amarius.

These, and many more his misfortunes were to be la­mented, because they were his, and the rather beause (to the narrowest observer) they seem'd ordain'd, to run pa­rallel with his life; during which, like the noble Roman in his rolling Tu [...] of nailes, which way soever he turns, [Page 17]must needs feel something that continually galls him: insomuch, that many thought the best blessing they could desire for him ( death seeming to them his faithful friend) was to wish Heaven would send a writ of ease to his rest­lesse labours, and so release him from his growing sor­rows. 'Twas this very consideration that purchased him some affections among those narrow- ey'd attendants of his. Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit: and divers of their own party could not but look upon his afflictions with a pitiful dislike: Nay! his bitter Enemies began to lament his distressed condition; his imprisonment alone, freeing him from the further strokes of malice.

And what true English heart is it, that can hear the par­ticulars of his rough usage and transcendent misery, with­out affording a noble compassion? really none; unlesse such as are hardned into a stif-neck'd insensiblenesse. But I hope some gratefull Historian when he shall record the Annals of his misfortunes, will not let these passe, without being margin'd with a texted Ecce, the rather, because it hath been the nature of the English to behold distresses with a tender eye, and melting heart; conceiving it ever more noble to raise him up that is thrown downe; then to support those whom they have raised. For though For­tune (that Tyrant to humane estate) hath exercised her rigorous power too much and long, yet now since she be­gins to abate some of her cruelty, we may be invited (as by a good Omen) to assist his re-establishment, her wheel is ever in a perpetuall motion, and 'tis probable His Ma­jesty is now past the Nadir, and upon the ascending side,

And now to behold happinesse to approach when envy and malice had weaved such strong webs, that it lay not within the compasse of any Allye to break; to see delive­rance at hand when he was thrown beyond the hand of hope or help, no possibility shewing it self to re-instate him into his past honours; is like a glory in the middle of an Eclipse. But the passage through which Gods providence wanders, is alwaies miraculous: through how many se­verall Meanders and unseen waies, doth it begin to steale us: perhaps 'twill prove well for us, though 'twas bad for him, that he hath been thus long laid aside; his ver­tues like a lusty painting never appeared faire and lively but at this remove. His absence hath given our thoughts time to chew the cudd, through which relish we may strengthen the opinion of his unvaluable worth; and in his worthy thoughts render our selves clea [...] beast. And though his enemies malice hath shrub'd him into Under­wood, and great Oaks seldome grow to perfect Timber af­ter once lopt; yet his humble patience will make him capable of spreading, specially being beset with so many interposing skreens which curb the imperious winds, and preserve him from their blasting power, and happily then shall we live under his protecting shelter. 'Tis true, the intermitting harsh noates of the Times has discomposed many instruments: yet his disposition continues set to his wonted sweetnesse, and like the Sun, is, Idem per diversa. Nor need we doubt that the course of affaires can be o­therwise then happily steered, when we shall behold so able and honest a Pilot sit at the sterne again, whose ma­nifest skill, the crosse tides (raised by these late stormes) hath justly commended.

To Conclude, though the passages wherein we walke, seem (at present) obscure, and uncertaine; yet doubtlesse [Page 19]they'l assuredly lead our hopes to their expected end, what we cannot yet clearly see, we must strive to scent out, and he that is content leisurely to clime a hill, shal a great deale better his prospect. If I may judge of the en­suing day without erecting a figure, (and many times some generall judgments may be gathered from lesser exactnes, as plain Country-men (though illiterate) can guesse at en­suing weather by observing the colour of the Moone) I should be very forward to assure this Nation of a cleare Horizon, wherein we shall restore Phoebus in his won­ted splendour, and our selves capable of receiving the be­nefit of his healing influence, which whilst any fatall or envious interposition lasts, cannot descend upon us, nor our eyes be comforted with a beame naturally powerfull. But 'tis almost impossible (according to naturall causes) but that London (in the generality) must naturally affect Monarchy if Gemini be its Ascendant, that affectionate constellation beholds Leo with a Sextile, which is counted the Regall Signe, and the Aspect an aspect of love and friendship: Nor wil this Kingdom (if under Aries) come behind, or ever indure any Government but what is Mo­narchicall, for Aries is of the same nature and triplicity with Leo, and casts to it a friendly Trine, (which is estee­med the most perfect and friendly Aspect) nor can the Kingly Lion but cordially affect both those signes, whom he so amicably beholds. So that notwithstanding other malevolent Planets (either by unhappy position, or hatefull aspect) have for some yeares impoyson'd their nature; thrusting the Sun out of his exaltation, and converting the quality of Mercury to ill, by some malicious & preva­lent ray; yet surely such will not alwaies prove stationary, but shortly remove: that the naturall force of these signs may shew their mutuall affection; And if either Kingdome [Page 20]or City will tast the benefit of the Suns re-vivifying influ­ence, now is the time to receive it; For in this years revo­lution the Kingly signe culminates, and Sun Almuten there­of posited in Aries the Kingdomes signe and his owne exaltation, from whence he beholds Gemini with a loving Sextile, and (receives Mercury) Lord thereof into his exal­tation; whose power, position, and aspect, (together with many agreeing Testimonies in that promising scheame) are all assurances of His Majesties recruiting his honour, and strong presumptions of mutuall concord and agreement, between the King, Kingdome, and City.

That no more obstacles then may run between us and our happinesse, let us discover his safe and honourable en­tertainment by our free and hearty invitations, lest he be stollen again into a cloud; and this City suffer the ruine it is now ready to fall into: for by this and no other way can we recover our lost renowne; which when we once a­gain enjoy, let us learn to be so prudent as to preserve it.