find it quickly blasted. I have nothing to say against the gentleman, or any living of his family; on the contrary I wish him better fortune than to have a long and unquiet possession of his master's inheritance. Whatsoever I have spoken against his father, is that which I should have thought, though decency perhaps might have hindered me from saying it, even against mine own, if I had been so unhappy, as that mine by the same ways should have left me three kingdoms. But Here I stopped, and my pretended protector, who, I expected, should have been very angry, fell a laughing; it seems at the simplicity of my discourse, for thus he replied: You seem to pretend extremely to the old obsolete rules of virtue and conscience, which makes me doubt very much whether from this vast prospect of three kingdoms you can shew me any acres of your own. these are so far from making you a prince, that I am afraid your friends will never have the contentment to see you so much as a justice of peace in your own country. For this I perceive, which you call virtue, is nothing else but either the frowardness of a Cynick, or the laziness of an Epicurean. 1 am glad you allow me at least artful dissimulation, and unwearied diligence in my hero; and I assure you that he, whose life is constantly drawn by those two, shall never be misled out of the way of greatness. But I see you are a pedant, and platonical statesman, a theoretical commonwealth's-man, an utopial dreamer. Was ever riches gotten by your golden mediocrities, or the supreme place attained to by virtues that must not stir out of the middle? Do you study Aristotle's politicks, and write, if you please, comments upon them, and let another but practise Machiavel, and let us see, then, which of you two will come to the greatest preferments. If the desire of rule and superiority be a virtue, as sure I am it is more imprinted in human nature than any of your lethargical morals; and what is the virtue of any creature but the exercise of those powers and inclinations which God has infused into it? If that, I say, be virtue, we ought not to esteem any thing vice, which is the most proper, if not the only means of attaining of it. It is a truth so certain, and so clear, He struck him down; and, so (said he) so fell Hence coward fears; for the first blood so spilt, VOL. VII. 'Twas a beginning generous and high, So well advanc'd, 'twas pity there he staid; Had Adam too been kill'd, he might have reign'd alone. And, with his life, her dearer greatness gone, Whom high birth might to high pretences call; The great Jessæan race on Judah's throne, The coronation-day's more than a thousand years. } He would have gone on, I perceived, in his blasphemies, but that, by God's grace, I became so bold as thus to interrupt him: 1 understand now perfectly, which I guessed at long before, what kind of angel and protector you are; and, though your stile in verse be very much mended, since you were wont to deliver oracles, yet your doctrine is much worse, than ever you had formerly (that I heard of) the face to publish; whether your long practice with mankind has increased and improved your malice, or whether you think us in this age to be grown so impudently wicked, that there needs no more art or disguises to draw us to your party. My dominion, said he hastily, and with a dreadful furious look, is so great in this world, and I am so powerful a monarch of it, that I need not be ashamed that you should know me; and, that you may see I know you too, I know you to be an obstinate and inveterate malignant, and for that reason I shall take you along with me to the next garison of ours; from whence you shall go to the Tower, and from thence to the court of justice, and from thence you know whither. I was almost in the very pounces of the great bird of prey, When, lo! e'er the last words were fully spoke, Seem'd, to my eyes, no sooner there than here, The frowns, with which he struck the trembling fiend, His beans of locks fell, part dishevell'd down, In his fair hand (what need was there of more?) Only, I well perceiv'd, Jesus was one) He trembled, and he roar'd, and fled away, He knows his foe too strong, and must be gone; A RELATION OF THE True Funerals of the great Lord Marquis of Montrose, HIS MAJESTY'S LORD HIGH COMMISSIONER, AND CAPTAIN-GENERAL OF HIS FORCES IN SCOTLAND; With that of the renowned Knight, Sir William Hay of Delgity. Printed in the Year 1661. Quarto, containing twenty-four Pages. GOD Almighty's justice, and revenge of murder, is so frequently recorded by many famous Historians, that nothing shall be said here on that theme in general, lest I should grate on some, who, though subtle, have been surprised in their subtlety, while they devested themselves of christian maxims, to raise themselves, through human policy, by the ruin of the most eminent; and yet that their promised stability hath been over-turned, and their cutout ways damped and overclouded with abysses and darkness. The briquals and returns of providence of this nature, discovered in our late unnatural civil war, are testimonies sufficient to convince and confound the most peremptory atheist of the eternal and immortal deity, that will suffer no wickedness, under what specious pretences soever of reformation or good causes to pass unpunished. I shall not mention those ambitious spirits, who grounded their proper advancement by overthrowing religion and law; how, I say, some of those vagabonds are exposed to shame and deserved obloquy. But the divine providence teacheth us to make this difference, that, when virtue and loyalty have groaned and suffered under ty. ranny and oppression, in the end they have been crowned with fame and admiration, as our dread sovereign and noble parliament would have it witnessed in the celebration of the great Marquis of Montrose's funerals, in the highest and most magnificent grandeur, to counterbalance the height of malicious invention exercised on him to the full. The particulars of the honourable ceremonies will, in true and exquisite heraldry, display the several dignities he had, either as a peer of the land, or charged with his majesty's service; so, in a proportionable manner, we shall shew the honour done to the memory of that renowned colonel, Sir William Hay of Delgity, who, suffering martyrdom with him in the same cause, ambitioned his funeral under the same infamous gibbet; prophetically, certainly, that he might participate with him the same honour at his first bodily resurrection. This his request was easily assented to by these monstrous leeches, whose greatest glory was to be drunk and riot in the blood of the most faithful subjects; nay, even some of those, whose profession should have preached mercy, belched out, that the good work went bonnily on, when the scaffold, or Sather shambles, at the cross of Edinburgh, for the space of six weeks, was daily smoaking with the blood of the most valiant and loyal subjects. But we proceed to the funeral pomp, hoping that these glorious martyrs are praising and glorifying God, while we are amusing ourselves in this scantling transitory following description: From the abbey-church of Holy-rood House, to that of St. Giles in the High town, the funeral pomp was as followeth : Two conductors in mourning, with black staves. Twenty-five poor in gowns and hoods; the first of which went alone next to the conductors, carrying a gum pheon; the other twenty-four following two and two, carrying the arms of the house on long staves. An open Trumpet, cloathed in a rich livery of the marquis's colours, carrying his arms on his banner. Sir Harry Grahame, in compleat armour on horseback, carrying on the point of a lance the colours of the house; this noble gentleman accompanied his Excellency in all his good and bad fortunes, both at home and abroad. Servants of friends in mourning, two and two. The great Pincel, with his arms, carried by John Grahame of Douchrie, a renowned highland hector, and one who stuck peremptorily to the present Marquis of Montrose, in the last expedition under his Grace the Lord Commissioner; he is best known by the title of Tetrarch of Aberfoyl. The great standard in colours, with his arms, carried by Thomas Grahame of Potento, a hopeful cadet, of the ancient family of Clarrisse. An horse of war, with a great saddle and pistols, led by two lacquies in livery. The Defunct's servants, two and two, in mourning. An horse in state, with a rich foot-mantle, two lacquies in rich livery, and his parliament badges. Four close Trumpets in mourning, carrying the Defunct's arms on their banners. The great gumpheon of black taffety, carried on the point of a lance, by William Grahame the younger, of Duntrum, another sprightful cadet of the house of Clarrisse. The great Pincel of mourning, carried by George Grahame the younger, of Cairnie, who, from his first entry to manhood, accompanied his chief in the wars. The Defunct's friends, two and two, in mourning. The great mourning banner, carried by George Grahame, of Inchbraky, the younger, whose youth-head only excused him from running the risques of his father. The spurs, carried on the point of a lance, by Walter Grahame the elder, of Duntrum, a most honest royalist, and highly commen. ded for his hospitality. The gauntlets, carried by George Grahame, of Drums, on the point of a lance; a worthy person, well becoming his name. The head-piece, by Mungo Grahame, of Gorthy, on the point |