O hone! O hone! a magpyc-lecture [sic] by way of lamentation for the miscarriage of the plot, and the loss of the late intended French invasion : as it was delivered by a non-swearing parson in the fam'd congreation in Magpye-Alley, near Fetter-Lane, London, the 15th of this instant May, 1692 / by D.H--- late D. of G. D. H. 1692 Approx. 14 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 5 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2014-11 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2). A86333 Wing H18A ESTC R43631 42475038 ocm 42475038 151163

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 Early English books online text creation partnership. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A86333) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 151163) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 2246:23) O hone! O hone! a magpyc-lecture [sic] by way of lamentation for the miscarriage of the plot, and the loss of the late intended French invasion : as it was delivered by a non-swearing parson in the fam'd congreation in Magpye-Alley, near Fetter-Lane, London, the 15th of this instant May, 1692 / by D.H--- late D. of G. D. H. 8 p. Printed for J.F. and are to be sold at the Jacobite Conventicles of London and Westminster, London : [1692?] Imperfect: stained, worn, and with print show-through. Reproduction of original in: Newberry Library.

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 eng Lancashire Plot, 1689-1694 -- Early works to 1800. Jacobites -- Humor -- Early works to 1800. Nonjurors -- Humor -- Early works to 1800. Great Britain -- History -- William and Mary, 1689-1702. 2020-09-21 Content of 'availability' element changed when EEBO Phase 2 texts came into the public domain 2013-07 Assigned for keying and markup 2013-08 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2013-09 Sampled and proofread 2013-09 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2014-03 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

O Hone! O Hone!

A Magpye-Lecture, By way of LAMENTATION, FOR THE Miſcarriage of the Plot, And the Loſs of the late Intended French Invaſion, As it was Delivered By a Non-Swearing Parſon IN THE Fam'd Congregation in Magpye-Atley, near Fetter-Lane, London, the 15th. of this Inſtant May, 1692.

By D. H— late D. of G.

Woe unto us, for the WIND was againſt us.

London, Printed for J. F. and are to be Sold at the Jacobite Conventicles of London and Weſtminſter.

In the Epiſtle of St. Lodowick to the Gallicans, the • th. and the 14th. Woe unto us, for the Wind was againſt us.

MY Beloved, being here met together, like Jews at a Paſſover, with our Loyns girt, for a ſhort bit and away, for fear of thoſe Philiſtines and Moabites, the Beadles and Conſtables, being met, I ſay, in this Moſt Chriſtian (to borrow the Title of our Great Lord and Maſter) Aſſembly, I have made choice of a Text properly ſuitable to our preſent occaſion: Woe unto us, for the Wind ſtood againſt us.

Before I launch into ſo large a Field as lies before me, in the ſubject of my following Diſcourſe, I think fit firſt to prepare you for a due Attention and Reception of the great Truths delivered in my Text, by giving you a ſhort, but glorious Character of the great St. Lodowick, the Divine Oracle that ſpeaks it.

Our St. Lodowick, that great Boanerges of Mankind, the miraculous firſt born of his Mother, after twenty two years Conception, and ſent into the World for the Converſion of Nations, by the Infallibility of • ombs and Cannons. That great Colledge of Mahomet, the only Apoſtle Militant both of the Creſcent and Croſs, ſpeaks to his booted Diſciples, the Gallicans, in the words of my Text: Woe unto us, for the Wind ſtood againſt us. And why all this denuntiation of Woe? Yea verily, my Beloved, never a more ſad occaſion for wailing and lamentation. A Deſign ſo great and glorious as a Deſcent from France, an Invaſion of England, ſo politickly laid, and ſo hopefully carried on, and yet to be ſo diſmally blaſted, blown up, as I may ſay, by a Wind! To be ready and prepared ſo early in the Spring with 30000 Swiſs, Iriſh, Scotch, and French roaring Boys, to make a whip over, before the Heretick Williamites were awake, to oppoſe 'em, invited over too by Us the Loyal and Dutiful Jacobite Vaſſals, and Slaves to his moſt Anti-chriſtian Sultanſhip, all ſworn upon the Alcoran, ſo fat a ſquob as little dear England, ſo delicious a bit, juſt ready for his Pounce and Talons, and all loſt by a Wind: For woe unto us, the Wind was againſt us.

And now my, Beloved, have we the faithful Non-Jurants; his true and truſty Muſslemen, ſo long Preacht in Cellars and Garrets, the indiſpenſable Duty of Fidelity and Allegiance to our great Gallican Lord and Soveraign; even to a Curſe ye Meroz in his Cauſe. Oh the bleſſed Day, when the Gallican Miſs, and Gallican Patriots at the Helm, the Advancement and Exaltation of the Gallican Greatneſs and Glory was the whole work and ſtudy of ſo many hopeful years, when the humble Engliſh Effeminacy was ſo induſtriouſly planting and watering his dear Flour-de-Luces: Even our very Lyons of Judah all turned to his dutiful aſſiſting Iſachars. Did we not ſee all this, and by the Duty of our Paſſive Obedience, uſe all our Paſtoral Eloquence and Authority to Preach and Inculcate ſo divine a Cauſe. But not to call that happy Remembrance back again, ſo ſweet to our Ears and ſo dear to our Souls, alas! the preſent buſineſs of the day is a more lamentable Subject; for, Woe unto us, the Wind was againſt us.

But how, my Beloved, was the Wind againſt us? Oh, verily moſt perniciouſly, directly oppoſite to all our Hopes and Deſigns, that is to ſay, it ſtood in a Proteſtant Corner, yea, in a Proteſtant Corner; a Woe indeed, too bitter a draught of Gall even to be ſwallowed, or digeſted.

Oh the comfortable ſweets and the heavenly Manna we had taſted, that Soveraign Cordial to our drooping Souls, had we once feaſted our Senſes with ſo riotous a pleaſure, as to have ſeen the conſecrated Daggers of our dear Iriſh Brethren in the throats of our Heretick Enemies, to have battend in Maſſacre, and fatten'd with blood: But, alas, that Divine delight is utterly daſht and defeated: For woe unto us, the Wind was againſt us.

Now my Beloved we have a great many very ſad Reaſons to lament that the Wind ſhould be in the Proteſtant Corner. For firſt, what is Wind but Air? and the Prince of the Air being of our Party, 'tis very hard that the Wind ſhould be againſt us.

Secondly, The Wind has yet ſtronger Obligations to be of our Party. For, Beloved, it is written, that the Wind bloweth where it liſteth; that is to ſay, Ruleth and Coverneth ala mode de France, at its own Arbitrary Will and Pleaſure. And under that denomination of Abſolute and Arbitrary, the divine Attributes of our Great Patron Lodowick, one would think the Wind ſhould be a Jacobite. But this wicked Rebellious and unnatural Wind is a Proteſtant one, lay full in the Teeth of our Invincible Monarch, and overthrew all our Hopes and Foundation.

Now, Beloved, as the Wind ruleth and governeth, as I ſaid before, what, or what manner of Rule and Government is it, that that Rebel the Wind holdeth or uſurpeth: A very large one, my Beloved, a wide and and ample Dominion, my Brethren, for it bloweth from the four Corners of the Earth; from the four did I ſay? Yea, and from the twice fourteen By-Corners alſo. And this malicious and ſpightful Proteſtant Air, lay in the North and By Eaſt, one of the BY-Corners, my Beloved: And having named that ſhort word or Particle [BY] which Heaven knows is but a little one, yet, Beloved, 'tis a very Emphatick one: For inſtance in ſeveral weighty particulars relating to our whole Deſigns.

As firſt, our great Jacobite Plot, which we were juſt hatching in the World, proves an Abortive, or to uſe the Pagan Language of our Enemies, a Sooterkin, nay, and what's worſe, a BY-Blow. The great Champions and Heroes of our Cauſe having given us the Go-BY, are thrown into the Tower, New-gate, Gate-houſe, and other BY-places; and to ſumm all, too many of 'em, to our great Sorrow and Lamentation, are like to be hang'd too by the BY. And their very names and memories, my Beloved, no more than a BY-word amonſt our reviling and ſneering Enemies. And therefore, as I ſaid before, this Particle [BY] is a very Emphatick one. Nay 'to continue the Emphatickneſs of this woful [BY,] By St. Patrick and St. Loyala, our two great Jacobite Saints, never was Deſign better laid and projected. A great Navy, and ſeveral hundreds of Tranſport Ships, all ready by the beginning of April to ſtip BY, before the Engliſh Fleet could get out, and land an Army of dear Teagues and Rapparees, our Truſty and Beloved Sworn Brothers. But this Great and Invincible Armado, inſtead of getting BY, to be forc'd to lye BY, to have a long five Weeks Wind lye in this damn'd North-Eaſt, BY-Corner, and not only ſo, but a malicious Proteſtant Storm too to fall foul upon our Thoulon Fleet, and give our Expedition ſo great a Put-BY, till the whole Williamite Fleet is not only Equipped and Manned, but alſo Sail'd BY, and what is yet worſt of all, reſolved to Stand BY their great Heretick Lord and Maſter. And all this through that calamitous Diſappointment of Woe unto us, the Wind was againſt us.

After this deplorable Cataſtrophie, let us hang up our Harps, our Iriſh Harps, upon the Willows, and ſigh and ſob in the bitterneſs of Spirit, and anguiſh of Heart, and mix our Cup of Affliction, even with the Lees of Vinegar, let it be the true White-wine Vinegar, my Beloved, the Growth and Product of our own ſtill dear, tho' bitter Grapes; and no • ophiſticate Adulteration of Barly or Crab, that Heretick Verjuice, our Loathing and Abomination. For let us not ſtart from our Cauſe, or our Principles, though Woe be unto us, the Wind is againſt us.

Now Beloved, to give you ſome farther Light into my Text, it will not be unſeaſonable to make ſome more large inquiry into the nature of Wind. And here occurrs a very natural Obſervation, relating to the Extent or Power of Wind. Wind therefore is two-fold, not only that bluſtering Termagant Roarer and Rover, the wicked Enemy of our Cauſe, that Anti-Jacobite Element, that blows from the North and the Eaſt, or from any other Corner of the greater World; there is a Wind likewiſe proper and peculiar only to the leſſer World, blowing and breathing from the • orners and Crannies of that Microcoſme of Man. And this laſt Wind is of two kinds, both Learnedly diſplay'd and decipher'd by a very Eminent Author.

Thus Wind ith' Hypocondriack pent, Turns but a blaſt, if downwards ſent; But if it upwards chance to fly, It proves new Light and Prophecy.

You ſee, Beloved, here are two Winds, purely • igning and governing in our humane Microcoſme. The one, as I may ſay, a kind of a Subterranean Wind rambling and rumbling in the Internes and Cavernes of our Humane Terreſtrial, and iſſuing forth, as the Poet obſerves, down-wards in that formidable, tho' ſhort-lived obſtreperous Fulmination, if I may ſo ſay, Learnedly called a Blaſt. The ſecond Wind, here dignified by the Title of New Light and Prophecy; of which I'll ſpeak in their Order.

To begin therefore with the firſt, the firſt in Order, though not the firſt in Quality, a Blaſt: A Blaſt did I ſay, ſomething an unſavory Conception, my Beloved; but truly, Brethren, very proper to our Cauſe: For even under that mean Claſs of Winds, that feeble homely puff, call'd a Blaſt, may many Heroick Exploits be, not unjuſtly, rank'd and number'd, as being the Determinating point of too many Illuſtrious Deſignes and Atchievements.

For inſtance, what did our Maudlin-Colledge Reformation, our Spiritual High-Commiſſion, our Caſtlemain Nuntio-ſhip, and Tyrconnel Vice-Royalty, and all the reſt of our Popiſh Mines and Batteries, all the Grand Projections of our late Eminent St are 〈◊〉 kers, and Court-Locuſts, end in, bu • a Blaſt 〈◊〉 what came all our Formidable Silisbuty Expedition, 〈◊〉 a Blaſt: Our Running Fight on the blind ſide 〈…〉 Boyne, and indeed, all the reſt of our Iriſh Chival • but Blaſt, Blaſt all Blaſt. And truly my Beloved, w • aking heart and we • ping eyes be it ſpoken, we ha • but too much Reaſon to fear and dread, that o • whole Deſcent and Invaſion will terminate in ju • ſuch another unſavoury Wh • ff, a Blaſt; what ſh • I call it, a Puff, a Vapour, a little diminitive Back • id Crack, that's All, my Beloved. For, Woe unto us, t • Wind was againſt us.

Now to come to our ſecond Wind, our New Lig' • and Prophecy, under this Claſs are to be reckon'd 〈◊〉 our Divine Gadbury's Predictions, and the reſt of our Great Prophecies, the Crutch and Prop of all our finking Hopes, ſuch as our In ternis Annis Rex Religioque redibunt.

And now I come to ſpeak of Prophecies: Even thoſe Superiour Ebullitions of Wind may not imp • perly be ranked under the notion or name of Bla •• For as the forementioned Blaſt is only a violent Eruption of ſome Corporeal Collection of Vapo • rs, ſavour'd and hogoed in its Evaporation, according to the Odour of the Internal Minerals through which it paſſes; The like may be ſaid of all our Great Jacob • te Propheticks and • rognoſticks, as being only a Spiritual ſort of Whiff, the Erruption-likewiſe of ſome Mercurials Volatiles, through the Misfortune and Calamity of all our Deſeated Expectations, Mundungofyed into a Blaſt: For, Woe be unto us, the Wind ſits againſt us.

Licens'd, according to Order.

FINIS.