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A SPEECH MADE TO

THE LORD GENERAL MONCK,

AT CLOTHWORKERS-HALL, IN LONDON, THE 13TH' of
MARCH, 1659, AT WHICH TIME HE WAS THERE
ENTERTAINED BY THAT WORTHY COMPANY.

NAY then let me come too with my address,
Why may'n't a rustic promise or profess
His good affection t' you? Why not declare
His wants? how many, and how great they are?
And how you may supply them? since you may
See our hearts mourn, although our clothes be
grey.
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Great hero of three nations! whose blood From pious and from pow'rful grandsire kings, With whose blood royal you've enrich'd your veins, And by continued policy and pains

Have equall'd all their glory; so that now
Three kingless sceptres to your feet do bow,
And court protection, and alliance too;

And what great men still reach'd at, stoops to you.
But you're too truly noble to aspire

By fraud or force to greatness, or t' acquire
Sceptres and crowns by robbery, or base

And wilful breach of trusts, and oaths, nor place
Your happiness in ravished dominion,
Whose glory's only founded in opinion,
Attended still with danger, fear, and doubt,
And fears within, worse than all those without.
You must still watch and fear, and think, and inust
Lose all content, to gratify one lust;
Should you invade the throne, or aim at pelf,
Throw down three nations to set up yourself;
Kings are but royal slaves, and prisoners too,
They always toil, and always guarded go.

You are for making princes, and can find
No work proportion'd to your pow'r and mind,
But Atlas-like to bear the world, and be
The great restorer of the liberty

Of three long captiv'd kingdoms, who were thrown
By others' strong delusions, and their own
Misguided zeal, to do and suffer what
Their very souls now grieve and tremble at,
Debauch'd by those they thought would teach and
rule 'em,

Who now they find did ruin and befool 'em.
Our meanings still were honest, for alas!
We never dreamt of what's since come to pass;
"Twas never our intent to violate

The settled orders of the church or state,

To throw down rulers from their lawful seat,
Merely to make ambitious small things great,
Or to subvert the laws; but we thought then
The laws were good if manag'd by good men ;
And so we do think still, and find it true,
Old laws did more good, and less harm than new ;
And 'twas the plague of countries and of cities,
When that great-belli'd house did spawn com-
mittees.

We fought not for religion, for 'tis known,
Poor men have little, and some great ones none;
Those few that love it truly, do well know
None can take't from us, whe'r we will or no.

Nor did we fight for laws, nor had we need ;
For if we had but gold enough to feed
Our talking lawyers, we had laws enough,'
Without addressing to the sword or buff.

Nor yet for liberties; for those are things
Have cost us more in keepers, than in kings.
Nor yet for peace; for if we had done so,
The soldiers would have beat us long ago.
Yet we did fight, and now we see for what,
To shuffle men's estates; those owners that
Before these wars, could call estates their own,
Are beaten out by others that had none;
Both law and gospel overthrown together,
By those who ne'er believ'd in, or lov'd either.
Our truth, our trade, our peace, our wealth, our

freedom,

And our full parliaments, that did get and breed 'em,
Are all devour'd, and by a monster fell,
Whom none, but you, could satisfy or quell.
You're great, you're good, you're valiant, and

you're wise;

You have Briareus' hands, and Argus' eyes;
You are our English champion, you're the trus
St. George for England, and for Scotland too.
And though his story's question'd much by

some,

Whe'r true or false, this age and those to come,
Shall for the future find it so far true,
That all was but a prophecy of you;
And all his great and high achievements be
Explain'd by you in this mythology.

Herein you've far out-done him; he did fight
But with one single dragon; but by your might
A legion have been tam'd, and made to serve
The people, whom they mean t' undo and starve.
In this you may do higher, and make fame
Immortalize your celebrated name;

This age's glory, wonder of all after,

If you would free the son, as he the daughter.

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THE

LIFE OF CHARLES COTTON.

BY MR. CHALMERS.

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THIS poet was the son of Charles Cotton, esq. of Beresford, in Staffordshire, a man of considerable fortune and high accomplishments. Lord Clarendon says, he "had all those qualities which in youth raise men to the reputation of being fine gentlemen: such a pleasantness and gaiety of humour, such a sweetness and gentleness of nature, and such a civility and delightfulness in conversation, that no man in the court, or out of it, appeared a more accomplished person: all these extraordinary qualifications being supported by as extraordinary a clearness of courage, and fearlessness of spirit, of which he gave too often manifestation. Some unhappy suits in law, and waste of his fortune in those suits, made some impression upon his mind; which being improved by domestic afflictions, and those indulgencies to himself which naturally attend those afflictions, rendered his age less reverenced than his youth had been; and gave his best friends cause to have wished that he had not lived so long.." His son, who inherited many of these characteristics, was born on the 28th of April, 1630, and educated at the university of Cambridge, where he had for his tutor Mr. Ralph Rawson, whom he celebrates in the translation of an ode of Johannes Secundus. At the university he is said to have studied the Greek and Roman classics with distinguished success, and to have become a perfect master of the French and Italian languages. It does not appear, however, that he took any degree, or studied with a view to any learned profession; but after his residence at Cambridge, travelled into France and other parts of the continent. On his return, he resided during the greater part of his life at the family seat at Beresford.

In 1656, when he was in his twenty-sixth year, he married Isabella, daughter of sir Thomas Hutchinson, knight, of Owthorp, in the county of Nottingham, a distant relation, and took her home to his father's house, as he had no other establishment. On his father's death, in 1658, he succeeded to the family estate, encumbered by those imprudencies noticed by lord Clarendon, from which it does not appear that he was ever able to relieve it.

Who was the son of sir George Cotton, of Hampshire, and married the only child of sir John Stanhope, of Elvaston, by his first wife, Olive, heiress of Edward Beresford, esq. of Beresford. — Topographer, vol. III. Suppl. 25. C.

2 Continuation of the Life of Lord Clarendon. The other particulars of Cotton's life are taken from the Biog. Brit, and from sir John Hawkins' account of him prefixed to the Second Part of the Complete Angler. C

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