AN ESSAY UPON Buying and Selling OF SPEECHES.

BEING to Write of Matters of State, and particularly of ſome Steps lately taken by the Maſters in State Policy, I could not paſs over your Worſhip, who of late has ſo Diſtinguiſh'd your ſelf, as well by Writ⯑ings and Speeches, as other ways, in Mat⯑ters of the greateſt Moment, and there⯑fore [4] I have Directed this ESSAY to your Worſhip, beſeeching your Protecti⯑on on to an Author who has thus ventur'd to reprove a little, the Pride of the Men of great Talents, like your ſelf; a Practiſe which you have made L udable by your great Example, when your Worſhip was pleas'd to Jeſt with the World a little, and gave your ſelf the Trouble of telling other Men their Faults, and taking no Care of your own.

I ſhall not preſume ſo much upon your Worſhip, as to make your own Character illuſtrate the Work I am upon, however aptly it might ſuit with the Deſign; there are ſo many other flagrant Examples be⯑fore me, that I am under no Neceſſity of runing the riſque of your Diſpleaſure; perhaps your Worſhip may ſee your own Picture in the Hiſtory, as plain as you may deſire, and have ſome reaſon to ex⯑preſs your Satisfaction that it is no plainer.

Your Worſhip knows, that in the Caſe of true Satyrs, 'tis Application makes the Aſs, and when Men ſee their Crimes touch'd ſo ſenſibly, as that it maſters their Temper, we ſay, It diſcovers that they are the Men, and that the Coat fits them: But I doubt not your Worſhip can bear the brief Reflections made here upon a [5] ſcandalous Practiſe, without appropriat⯑ing any Part of it to your ſelf.

That I may therefore with the more Life repreſent the Crime of Buying and Selling SPEECHES, I ſhall give you the Hiſtory of a once famous Perſon, who knowing how ſucceſsful the Antients practiſed that gainful Trade; with what ſecure Meaſures they perſued their Game, and how boldly they made their Market of their Intereſt in Parliament; how effe⯑ctually they Bantered their Soveraign, when they found it for their Advantage, and how ſure they were to be Bought off, as ſoon as they thought fit to OPEN againſt the Court; reſolv'd, ſome few Years agoe, for the raiſing his declining Fortune, for the ſatisfying his unſatiable Ambition, and for ſupplying the moſt un⯑mannaging profuſe Inclination, to try the Experiment upon his Prince: You will ſee with what deteſtable Ingratitude he Set Out, with what Inſolence and Aſſu⯑rance he Proceeded, and with what juſt Reproach he Miſcarry'd.

This Hiſtory, and't pleaſe your Worſhip, or whether it be a Hiſtory or no, will, doubtleſs, ſufficiently anſwer the Deſign; for it will fully lay open the baſe Mea⯑ſures [6] taken by ſuch Polititians to get in⯑to Employment: It will alſo lay before your Worſhip, the narrow ſelfiſh Ends which many, if not moſt of thoſe who have formerly made popular Speeches in the Councils and Aſſemblies of Great Men, puſht at: HOW they aim'd at their pri⯑vate Advantages, all the while they made pretences of pleading the Cauſe of Juſtice, and the Peoples Liberty. HOW, when they rail'd at the Miſmanagments of Men in Place, the Deſign was not ſo much the detecting the Frauds of others in great Poſts, in order to have Juſtice done to the Nation, as for the ſake of getting themſelves put in their Room.

It will alſo ſhew, by the Royal Exam⯑ple of a Wiſe and truly Great Prince, HOW every Government ought to treat ſuch Creatures as theſe; with what juſt Contempt they ſhould diſappoint their Expectations, and HOW they ſhould al⯑ways be above the fear either of their Malice or their Treachery.

I doubt not but when your Worſhip ſhall have read this Story, you will join in recommending the ſcandalous Practiſe of Buying and Selling of Speeches, to every honeſt Mans Deteſtation.

[7] The Gentleman I ſpeak of was an Iriſh⯑man by Nation, a Man of a Liberal Educa⯑tion; well Read, eſpecially in that excellent School-Accompliſhment, call'd, Claſſick Learning: He had alſo a competent Stock of Natural Wit; and by keeping good Company, and running ſome Changes of Fortune, had gone thro' ſo much Variety as to know the World prety well, and the Town very well; all which had very much fitted him for Converſation: His Thoughts were Clear, and he had ſome happy Turns in Expreſſion which gave ſome Beauty to his Diſcourſe, eſpecially if he did not happen to Talk TOO MUCH which, however, he was a little enclin'd to.

With theſe Accompliſhments he ſet out in the World, and it was Obſerv'd, That for ſome Years before he made him⯑ſelf Popular, he was mightily addicted to make Speeches, for which he once got a Friendly Reproof, and was told, That If he had not a great care of his Modeſty, he would get the general Character of a TALKING FELLOW, the thing which of all Worldly Reproaches, a Wiſe Man is moſt affaid of, and moſt ſtudious to avoid. His Anſwer was remarkable it ſeems, to the Gentleman that was ſo kind [8] as to give him the Caution, viz. I have Courage enough to carry me over all that. The Gentleman only Reply'd, Couſin, Couſin, you ſhould not call it Courage, call it — However, for all his — or Courage, call it as you will, he had ano⯑ther more inſuperable Obſtruction to his Riſing in the World: For having neither Vertue or Principles, and, which was ſtill worſe, No Money to put him forward in the World, he found it very Difficult to force his Way thro', or, as I may ſay, over the Belly of the Misfortunes which general⯑ly attend a Narrow Circumſtance; and tho' he had made himſelf Agreeable a⯑mongſt ſome Men of good Senſe, and had even got Acquaintance with ſome above himſelf, yet all this could not effectually aſſiſt him to ſurmount the Fate of his Family, or to maſter that great Difficulty, viz. of ſeperating between Wit and Po⯑verty.

With all his Acquirements, he had ſome Vices, which I muſt touch at, that I may make his Hiſtory compleat; but I ſhall be brief in that ungrateful Part of Hiſtory: With his Wit, (1) he had, and alas! who is without it, an unbridled Paſſion for his own dear Praiee: Impati⯑ent to the laſt degree of the leaſt Re⯑proach, [9] nay, tho' it were juſt; and yet this Exorbitance did not at all reſtrain him from laying himſelf open every Day to the moſt juſt Satyr, and expoſing him⯑ſelf a thouſand ways, by the moſt un⯑garded Conduct in the World; but be⯑lieving it in his power to eſtabliſh his Character upon the foot of his extraordi⯑nary Merit, he thought he had a right to ſtop the Enquiries of curious Mallice, into thoſe Parts of his Fame which were leſs Shining, and that it was a ſaucy un⯑mannerly thing for any Man to ſay an ill Word of him, however Juſt, or how much Truth ſoever there might be in the Fact.

To carry on this Haughty Humour, his firſt Care was to let the World believe he was a Perſon of BIRTH as well as Merit, and he Carry'd himſelf moſt ridiculouſly High upon that head: Indeed this was the weakeſt Step he could ever have ta⯑ken, becauſe there were ſome things in his Family, which his Fathers being call'd a Gentleman could by no means Ballance; and beſides that, as the Poverty of his Fathers Circumſtances expos'd his Chil⯑dren to be bred up by the Charity of o⯑thers, ſo it happen'd, that thoſe Relations of his which ſhew'd that Charity, ſeem'd [10] to have acquir'd the Capaſity by ſome ſcandalous Methods.

Now tho' Poverty is rather the Miſ⯑fortune than the Crime of a Gentleman, yet all Men know, that when there are Circumſtances of thoſe kinds in the Rear of a Man's Family, it is not thought the wiſeſt Step that Man can take, to place them in the Front of his own Hiſtory; becauſe it gives Envy a handle to Speak detractingly: It was this Vanity of his, which caus'd an ill-natur'd Poet of thoſe Times, among other bitter Things, to publiſh this Diſtich upon him, occaſi⯑oned by his unſeaſonable Boaſting of being a Gentleman Born.

But we paſs over his Pride, as a thing too common to Men of Wit: Anex't to this, he had the moſt unhappy Spirit of Profuſion in his Way of Living, that a Wiſe Man could be guilty of; and it was the more Scandalous to him, be⯑cauſe he had no ſuitable Fund to juſtify or ſupport it: This Humour was come to ſuch an extravagant Hight in him, [11] that even Good Fortune it ſelf could not ſupply it, and this faild not to make him Neceſſitous even in ſpight of the Bounty of Princes. This Poverty was accompa⯑ny'd with its conſtant Yoak-Fellow, Debt, which, however, was grown ſo natural a Grievance to him, that, like a riveted Gout, which when it is grown familiar to us, we take no Phyſick for, nor are allarm'd at; ſo to be Dun'd, or Arreſted, was no breach of his Tranquility, nor did he ever load himſelf with the unne⯑ceſſary Care of getting out of it, think⯑ing that thoſe People he ow'd Money to, had more need to be Uneaſy and Thoughtful, about that main Point, How they ſhould get him out of their Books, than he, whoſe much greater Care was, to find Ways and Means to get farther in.

But being by theſe thing reduc'd all moſt to his Primitive State, viz. Living upon Charity, at length a Friend let him into the Secret, viz. That Railing at Princes, making Satyrs upon Great Men, and long Speeches againſt the Vices of the Publick Management; was the beſt way that could be thought of, for a Man of his Capacity, to get a ſtart into the World.

[12] That nothing was wanting to a Man of his Capacity, but to be known: That for an Author to be Popular, was to be formidable to Great Men, whoſe Con⯑duct would very ſeldom bare a Hiſtory, or their Vertues a Character; and that therefore, if he once could Eſtabliſh his Fame in this Town as a Satyr, he would find very quickly that he might ſell Silence at a good Price, or get enough by one good Speech, to make it worth while to hold his Tongue all his Life after.

Upon this proſpect he ſet out, he rail'd in Print upon ſeveral Occaſions, very Magnificently, but unhappily ſunk un⯑der two Circumſtances, (1) He was a⯑fraid to own what he Writ, and that kept him too much Jncog. In the World: And (2) He ſtrook too low, and fell upon Men not able to buy him off.

But he ſoon found his Miſtake, and in one flaming half Sheet, he made amends for that Modeſty, and fell upon the Grea⯑teſt Men in the Kingdom: In ſhort, he Damn'd all the White-Staffs in the Nation, as Rogues by Employment; and threatn'd what Deviliſh Things he would Diſcover of them in the Proceſs of his Studies.

[13] He had no ſooner done this, but it was every Mans Buſineſs to enquire who this TALKING Fellow was: There is ſeldom much difficulty in ſeek⯑ing thoſe People that deſire to be found; the Author was of eaſy acceſs, and being found, Taſted the firſt Fruits of the good Advice given him, and was let know, that one of the greateſt Staffs in the Na⯑tion had a mind to Serve him. Imme⯑diately we receiv'd a full and true Account, That a Great Man with a White-Staff might be very Honeſt; that there was a White-Staff in the World who eminently Merited to be eſteem'd; and whoſe Character it was ‘"to be Frugal of the Publick Money, and Prodigal of his own."’

This was the firſt Attempt he made, according to the Advice given him; and having met with Succeſs, he was Encouraged afterwards to go on in a more publick Manner: In a courſe of Time he receiv'd ſome Civilities from another Perſon bearing a Staff, and in hopes of more, was heard to ſay, That he had entertain'd indeed ſome hard Thoughts of that Gentleman, but that he found he was poſſeſs'd of a Genius, Born to Conquer Univerſal Prejudice, and that [14] he was afterwards reſolv'd to Number himſelf among his Friends.

But finding every Man not alike ap⯑prehenſive of the Power of a ſharp Pen, and that he knew not how to make him⯑ſelf fear'd there, as he expected; his good Opinion abated in a little time.

In the mean time the Soveraign at that time Reigning, influenc'd by the firſt Perſon mention'd, had heaped accumulated Royal Favours upon this Iriſh Creature. But after the Poſſeſſion of them a rea⯑ſonable time, the Vallue of them ſeem'd to abate in his Thought, tho' the Reve⯑nue of them abated nothing in his Pocket, for Favours to ſome Men appear with a different aſpect, and ſink always in their Magnitude after they have been long enjoy'd.

It was not for want of Application, or of aſſurance to Crave, that the Mortal Wight crep't no higher; but that Age had its ſhare of Penetration in ſome Things, as it had of Miſtakes in others; and he was, perhaps ſooner than he thought was decent, obſerv'd to diſtinguiſh his dear ſelf from his attachment to any In⯑tereſt [15] or Party, and therefore he thought fit very early to ſhow himſelf to be what it ſeems he thought it was beſt, to be in all Governments viz. a Male⯑content.

We muſt not ſay, For we muſt do him Juſtice, that his Paſſion for the Cha⯑racter of a Malecontent, was deriv'd from his ill Nature, for we give that Tri⯑bute to his Immorality, that he was never Cinical or Moroſe in his Temper; But that his Politicks brought him into thoſe Meaſures, founded upon the miſ⯑taken Notion of his own Merit, which he always had Prudence enough to keep up an Opinion of, tho' not Modeſty enough to confine it.

Upon this Foundation it was, that he was not eaſily brought to acknow⯑ledge himſelf oblig'd; all ways pretend⯑ing to have it in his Power, not only to make himſelf uſeful, but neceſſary to the Publick; ſo that their employ⯑ing, and ſupplying him, was all ways to be eſteem'd as a Teſtimony, not of the Soveraign's Good-will, ſo much as Good Sence; and of their being able to Judge who, or who not, it was their Intereſt to be Bountiful to.

[16] But the Conſequences of this ſhew'd more plainly the Truth of what is here aſſerted; for no ſooner did he find that the Soveraign once dar'd to run the Riſque of his Diſpleaſure, but he made no difficulty to ſhew it, and that in the moſt diſobliging Way imaginable; Inſult⯑ing the Crown he Serv'd, and carrying it in ſuch a Manner, as evidently ſhew'd he doubted not by appearing againſt them, to be bought off at a good Price.

But the Soveraign not being in need of his Service, or afraid of his Power, ventur'd his Indignation; and forbore to Purchaſe what it was well known could not be Retain'd any longer, than the Royal Bounty ſhould flow in a manner equal to his unbounded Profuſion.

During this Dilemma of his Affairs, there happen'd a great Revolution in the Government where he liv'd, the Crown being Tranſpos'd by that Providence, in whom the Original Right of diſpoſing all Things remains, from one Head to another; and that Tranſpoſition giving a round turn to the Adminiſtration, even from one Extream almoſt to another, it gave him alſo a new Riſe, and put him into a Poſture to ſhew himſelf again: He was Politician [17] enough to act his part in the firſt ap⯑pearance of Things, and to look like other Men: He had been taught to Cloth himſelf with ſuch ſhapes as beſt might ſerve his grand Deſign; and to this purpoſe fail'd not to make all the diſobliging Steps which he had taken in the preceeding Reign, paſs for Merit in the next; and happening to have the good Fortune to fall now into the Hands of a Prince of Immenſe Benefi⯑cence, that knew how to engage Inge⯑nious Spirits beyond their Power of return, and Rewarded in proportion to his own Bounty, rather than the Subjects Character, he fail'd not to meet with an acceptance as much beyond his Expec⯑tations, as thoſe Expectations were above his Merit.

This ſet him at the firſt daſh above all his Rivals, and would have Eſtabliſh'd his Fame, if it had not, to his great Miſ⯑fortune, ſet him alſo above himſelf.

But as nothing is more rare, than for one Born in a low Station, to know how to move in juſt proportion to a more extended Orb, ſo the Velocity of his Motion in his new Sphere was ſo un⯑equal [18] to himſelf, and to what he ought to have been, that it caſt him immediately back into the ſame Diſorder that he was in before: I have hinted juſt now, that the Soveraigns greatneſs of Spirit caus'd him to meaſure his Bounty by his own Magnificence, rather than by the bare Deſert of the Object, and this was in him a Teſt of an extenſive Goodneſs: But our Iriſh Man run into the con⯑trary Extream, and meaſuring his own Merit by his Princes Bounty, he fell into the moſt groſs and moſt offenſive Abſurdity in Nature; for as it fill'd him with unſufferable Arrogance, by which he became intollerable to his Friends, ſo it puſh't him upon that moſt ſcandalous Folly of claſhing with him⯑ſelf, fixing a ſtated Contradiction be⯑tween the Days of his Humiliation, and thoſe of his Exhaltation.

Being come this length, there wanted nothing to compleat the ruin of his Character, and make him perfectly Con⯑temptible, but that he ſhould think, as formerly he thought, viz. That all Re⯑wards which were not equall to his Ex⯑travagance, were Extravagantly ſhort of [19] his Merit, and ſo bring him to Treat his new Benefactor as he had done his former, I mean with Ingratitude.

Fate that had determin'd this Muſh⯑room the due Puniſhment of Upſtarts, fail'd not to bring this to paſs alſo, by the following Circumſtances, with which I ſhall conclude his Hiſtory.

By the Favour and Bounty of his Prince, of which mention is made, he was ſo far recommended to the Subject, Or, which if Fame lies not, was part of the Caſe, made Capable to recommend himſelf, that upon an Election of a Parliament, he was choſen to ſit in the Houſe of Com⯑mons, for there were new Parliaments frequently call'd in thoſe Days, as well as in theſe. He was no ſooner entred into the Houſe, but even the firſt Day, as Authors relate, he began to make Speeches, and Flattring Panegyricks. Perſuing thus the Dictates of his firſt Inſtructor moſt exactly, for it ſeems he was told, That in that place was the beſt Market for GOOD SPEECHES, and that he might take it for Granted, that to make a long Speech againſt the Publick Mannagement, was the only way [20] to get a ſhare in it, according to Mr. And. Marvill.

Upon this Principle the unhappy Po⯑lititian took his Meaſures; he had been Treated, as I have ſaid, ſo far above his capaſity of Deſerving, that had not moſt People known his Character, and that he would ſoon let his Soveraign ſee his Bounty was ill beſtow'd, he would al⯑moſt have arriv'd to the Dignity of be⯑ing Envied: But that unbounded Spirit of Profuſion, which was however a Judg⯑ment upon his Ambition, ſoon made way thro' all that his Princes Bounty had beſtowed, and he grew Neceſſitous in the midſt of a Sufficency for a Lord. Three times the God-like Goodneſs of his Prince bore with the Infirmity, be⯑lieving it might be the remains of former Misfortunes, and with no leſs than Five Hundred Pounds at a time, if Hiſ⯑tory does not miſtake, Recruited the Wity Extravagant. But it was all in vain, it was a Stream, not a Bucket, an Ocean, not a Stream that muſt be ſuf⯑ficient to ſupply the Out-let of his Va⯑nity; [21] and that Wiſdom which was as in⯑ſeperable from his Soveraign's juſt Cha⯑racter as his Bounty, dictated, that in charity to the Lunacy of this Mans Temper, he muſt ſhut up his Expecta⯑tion, within the Bounds of what he had in Poſſeſſion; and that it was the kindeſt Thing that could be done for him, to let him know, it was in vain for him to Aſk, who had already Surfeited.

His Soveraign had almoſt as good have declar'd him a Traitor, as told him, That his Account of Merit was Ballanc'd by paſt Favours; for his Merit being ex⯑hauſted as well as the Money, it follows of courſe, that Ways and Means were to be found out to ſupply the Laſt, whether the Firſt were concern'd or no.

The Devil, who, they ſay, is the cun⯑ningeſt Fellow at his Trade in the World, finding the Mans Nature Wicked, and his Circumſtances Favourable, fail'd not to take hold of the advantage, and preſented him with an Opportunity, as he fraudu⯑lently told him, to raiſe his Fortunes; Nor did he long ſtick at the Motion, tho' at the expence of his Vertue.

In a Word, the Advice Sathan admi⯑niſtred, [22] was upon the old Foot, Oppoſe the Court, and make your ſelf Neceſſary, then they'l Buy you. Tho' the Face of this Man was as Caſe-hardn'd as the very Mettal it ſelf which we call ſo; yet it is related in his Favour, That he ſtar⯑ted at the firſt Propoſal, and told the Devil, It was damn'd Ungrateful, that he was a Gentleman Born, and he could not do any Thing ſo baſe; he did not add, Get thee behind me Sathan, becauſe there was more Buſineſs between them to Treat of; but he gave him a very hand⯑ſome Repulſe it muſt be confeſs'd.

But Sathan is not uſed to be ſaid nay. The Devil knew his Inſide, better per⯑haps, than he did himſelf, and Banter'd him upon his Nicety; A Pox o' your Modeſty, ſays old Belzebub, is it any more than you have done by all the Benefactors ever you had in your Life? And beſides, ſays the old Prevaricator, have you not the beſt Plea in the World for it? (viz.) NECESSITY. Prethee, Dick, ſays he, try the other Experiment, can you Starve? You muſt do one or tother, that you know, therefore Conſider of it.

I do not find that Hiſtory has Recor⯑ded the whole Dialogue between them, [23] nor how the Devil they made the Bar⯑gain. But this is Recorded as a certain Truth, That he came into the Propoſal.

Now to cut ſhort the Story, for the beſt part of it is behind, the generous Prince defeated both the Devil and the Traytor, for as ſoon as he ſaw his Good⯑neſs abus'd, he was ſo far from ſtooping to gratify the Wicked Deſign, and to draw him back by more Gifts, as he ex⯑pected; that he contemn'd the Impotence of his Malice; with-drew his Favours; and Condemn'd the Wretch to Rail on.

He continu'd a while according to Sentence, till he was Hiſs'd at, and P—d upon by all wiſe Men, his Friends aſham'd of him, and his Ene⯑mies above him, and that he laid himſelf below the dignity of Lampoon.

In this condition, Heaven in Mercy to him, clear'd up his Underſtanding, and he became a mighty Penitent; but as it is not in Man to anſwer for Sincerity, and no Man car'd to venture upon one that had been always otherwiſe till then: The compaſſionate Prince Pardon'd him, gave him a Penſion for Bread, and laid him up as an Invalid.

[24] THIS HISTORY, and't pleaſe your Worſhip, I was willing to lay before you, that I might have your Worſhip's Opi⯑nion, whether it is not worth while to bring it upon the Stage in Terrorem, to Deter Incendaries from making Speeches againſt their Maſters, and againſt their Principles, with a deſign to get up higher in their Favour, tho' they have already been Rewarded in a manner, which it was never in their Power to deſerve.

I doubt not, but if your Worſhip caſts your Eye back upon the Hiſtories of thoſe Times, for it is many Years ſince thoſe things were done, you will find I have not wrong'd the Memory of the Perſon, and that you will be ſatisfy'd great part of the Account is true in Fact.

Now, I moſt humbly beſeech your Worſhip to give your aid and aſſiſtance, in crying down this Unchriſtian Practice in all its parts; and let the World know from your Authentick Hand, how juſtly the Vice of Speech-making is abhor'd by all honeſt Men; but obſerve, if you pleaſe, that I do not condemn Speech-making in general as ſuch, for that may be very uſeful in its place, but making Speeches againſt Principles, and againſt [25] Benefactors, on purpoſe to appear con⯑ſiderable, and to be drawn off again by a frail Argument which I am aſham'd to name.

I know your Worſhip abhors theſe Things; and tho' fame lay's it to your Charge, that you ſpake ſomewhat after this ſort lately, upon the Subject of Shewing Mercy, &c. yet as common Fame is a falſe Jilt, and has long ſince loſt her Reputation, I aſſure your Worſhip, I ſhall give no credit to her Words in that Caſe.

Beſides, Sir, I cannot entertain a Thought, that you, who underſtands what belongs to Humane Mercy ſo much, having wanted it ſo often in Ci⯑vil Affairs, tho' not in Criminal; could open your Mouth, unleſs Paid for it beyond the ordinary Price, for the ſhew⯑ing Mercy to thoſe who are no ways the proper objects of Mercy, either of God or Man.

I need not tell you, Sir, what (I hear) you very nobly inſiſted upon, (viz.) How Kings ſhould imitate the King of Kings, in that Superiour Attribute of ſhewing Mercy, and how glorious it [26] was for Princes to come up to that Sub⯑lime Pattern: But as our Jacobites have enlarged upon that Point to an extreme hight, higher to be ſure than your Wor⯑ſhip ever intended it, I know your Judg⯑ment muſt joyn with the Kings in this, That it may be his Majeſty's Duty to imitate the Merciful God of Heaven in Forgivneſs, but that we no where find, that any King ought to go beyond that Sacred Pattern: For example, our Religion teaches us, That if we confeſs, and for⯑ſake, we ſhall find Mercy; our Rubrick ſays, Spare thou them, O God, which confeſs their Faults. But neither does God himſelf Pardon any, but the Pe⯑nitent, neither can any Man, but on the higheſt Preſumption, ſo much as Pray for Pardon for himſelf, or any one elſe, but on the Suppoſition of Re⯑pentance and Reformation.

Now, and't pleaſe your Worſhip, we have not yet heard of one of theſe Priſoners, or Condemn'd People that confeſs their Fault; for your Worſhip knows, there is a vaſt difference be⯑tween confeſſing the Fact, and confeſſing the Fault, and thoſe who would have the King ſhew Mercy to the firſt, without the laſt, are for having the [27] King go farther, your Worſhip knows, than ever God Almighty himſelf went yet.

It is moſt certain therefore, that your Worſhip was for having the King be Merciful to thoſe who by a Penitent acknowledgment of their Crime, as well as of the Fact, rendred themſelf Objects worthy of Compaſſion; for otherwiſe it is moſt certain, your Worſhip was for having the King Pardon thoſe, who we are ſure God himſelf will not Pardon.

All theſe things I thought, for your Worſhip's Service, to Communicat to you, that you may make ſuch uſe there⯑of, for the Conviction of our Merce⯑nary Speech-makers of this Age, as to your Worſhip in your great Wiſdom ſhall ſeem meet.