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It is not consistent with the design of this work to enter into the exactness of biographical detail, and therefore we shall content ourselves with barely noting that this learned and modest man was advanced, first to the bishoprick of Meath, by King James the first, who said on granting the congé d'elire" that Dr. Usher was a bishop of his own making." In 1626, he was elevated to the primacy of Ireland, in which high station he conducted himself with equal zeal and tenderness, reforming the ecclesiastical courts, narrowly inspecting the manners of the clergy, and endeavouring to bring over the Romanists to the established church, by reasoning and gentleness.

"To effect the last object, he began," says the writer of his life, "to converse more frequently, and familiarly with the gentry and nobility of that persuasion, also with divers of the inferiour sort that dwelt near him, inviting them often to his house, and discoursing with great mildness of the chief tenets of their religion; by which gentle usage he was very successful, convincing many of them of their errours, and bringing them to the knowledge of the truth. And he also advised the bishops and clergy of his province, to deal with the popish recusants in their several dioceses and cures, after the same manner; that if possible they might make them understand their errours and the danger in which they were: which way, in a country where there are no penal laws to restrain the publick profession of that religion, was the best, if not the only means, which could be used. Nor was his care confined only to the conversion of the ignorant Irish papists; but he also endeavoured the reduction of the Scotch and English sectaries to the bosom of the church, as it was by law established, confirming and arguing with divers of them, as well ministers as laymen, and showing them the weakness of those scruples and objections they had against their joining with the publick service of the church, and submitting to its government and discipline."

Notwithstanding this, the archbishop was stigmatized by some bigots of his own communion as being puritannically inclined, for which no reason could be assigned, unless it was the mildness of his temper, and the moderation of his measures. The calumny,

after she had opened the door of his chamber, she found him with his eyes life up to Heaven; and tears running down his cheeks apace, and in a kind of ecstacy, wherein he continued after she came in near half an hour without taking notice of her, and then, recovering, told her his thoughts were exercised in contemplating the great misery and persecution coming, which would be so sharp and bitter, that it had drawn those tears from his eyes: but he hoped he should not live to see it; possibly, she might, For they are,' said he, even at the door; therefore,' said he, look that you be not found sleeping.' The same he also repeated to Mrs. Risse the chief baron of Ireland's wife in Dublin; with this circumstance, added he to her, That if they bring in the king and restore him, it may be a little longer delayed; but it will surely come, therefore be not unprovided for it.""

The dreadful massacre of the Protestants which began in Ireland in 1641, and was continued for 2 or 3 years, is an historical fact too well known to be contested, and by the Roman Catholicks of the present day is viewed with detestation and horrour. En.

however, was industriously conveyed to the ear of the monarch; but James, after discoursing with Dr. Usher, observed, "that the knave Puritan was a bad, but the knave's Puritan an honest man." The archbishop was in England when the Irish rebellion broke out, so that he escaped suffering in person, though he was despoiled of his estate, and saved nothing but his library, which was conveyed to Chester, and from thence to London.

So great and extensive was his reputation at this time, that the city and university of Leyden, hearing of his losses, offered to choose him their honorary professor of theology, with a more ample salary than had formerly been annexed to the office; and Cardinal Richelieu invited him to France, with the promise of a noble pension and the free exercise of his religion. These offers he declined, and was appointed by the king to the vacant bishoprick of Carlisle, of which he was soon deprived by the Presbyterians, who abolished episcopacy, plundered the cathedrals, and confiscated the lands of the bishops. The parliament, indeed, in consequence of his great losses, voted him a pension of four hundred pounds a year, but this he did not receive above once or twice.

When the king withdrew to Oxford, the archbishop retired thither also, and often preached before the persecuted monarch, which so exasperated the prevailing faction that they made an order for seizing his books which were in Chelsea college. This decree, which would have disgraced Goths and Saracens, was carried into execution, and the books would have been publickly sold had not Dr. Featley, who was then in some favour with the party, and a member of their assembly at Westminster, obtained them for his own use; by which means they were secured for the archbishop, at least as many as were not stolen before they came into the doctor's hands. Amongst the articles embezzled were many manuscripts and letters of great value.

A few years after this the archbishop going into Wales had all his books and papers taken from him by a straggling party; but such was the reverence in which he was held, that they were almost all restored, upon a declaration being made to the people in the churches, desiring that those who had any of them in their possession, would bring the same to their ministers.

While he resided in Wales he fell into a dangerous illness, beginning with a strangury and suppression of urine, which produced a violent hemorrhage. In the midst of the most excruciating torture he was still patient, praising God and resigning himself to his will, giving to those about him the best advice, not to neglect the preparation for death till the last. "It is a dangerous thing," said he," to leave all undone till our last sickness; I fear a death-bed repentance will avail us little if we have lived vainly, and viciously, and neglected our conversion, till we can sin no longer."

He manifested his loyalty even in this sickness; for when a gentleman came to visit him, who was a member of the House of Commons, and was then about to set out for London, the archbishop said to him, "Sir, you see I am very weak, and cannot ex

pect to live many hours; you are returning to the parliament, I am going to God; my blood and life is almost spent: I charge you to tell them from me, that I know they are in the wrong, and have dealt very injuriously with the king, and I am not mistaken in this matter."

It having been falsely-said that the primate advised the king to pass the bill of attainder against the great earl of Strafford, an unhappy measure which embittered the last moments of Charles, and was one of the steps which led to his own tragick fate, his grace's chaplain took the opportunity, when the archbishop seemed to be on his death-bed, to question him upon it. His answer was, "I know there is such a thing wrongfully laid to my charge, for I neither gave nor approved of any such advice, as that the king should assent to the bill against the earl, but on the contrary, told his majesty, that if he was satisfied by what he had heard at his trial that the earl was not guilty of treason, his majesty ought not in conscience to consent to his condemnation: and this the king knows well enough, and can clear me if he pleases." Nor was the primate mistaken in this, for when not long after it was told the king at Oxford, that the archbishop of Armagh was dead, he expressed his sorrow at the loss, and made a warm eulogium upon his learning and piety. And when a person present said that “he believed he might be so, were it not for his persuading your majesty to consent to the earl of Strafford's execution," the king in a great passion replied, " "Tis false; for," said he, " after the bill was past, the archbishop came to me saying, (with tears in his eyes,) Oh, Sir! what have you done? I fear that this act may prove a great trouble to your conscience, and pray God that your majesty may never suffer by the signing of this bill, or words to that effect."

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Beyond all expectation the good archbishop recovered from this illness, and as the king's affairs were become almost desperate he thought of going abroad. Accordingly a vessel was provided for him, and a passport obtained from the Earl of Warwick, who was the admiral for the parliament; but while preparations were making for the voyage, a squadron came into Cardiff roads under one Molton, to whom the archbishop sent his chaplain to know if he would suffer him to proceed without molestation. To this the brutal commander replied, that, "if he could get him into his hands, he would carry him prisoner to the parliament." This design being frustrated, the archbishop was at a loss where to go for safety, when a letter arrived from the countess dowager of Peterborough, offering him an asylum at her house at Ryegate, in Surrey.

"But it must not here be forgotten," says the writer of his life, "that before he left Wales, the great expenses of his sickness, and removals in the year past, had much reduced him as to his purse, nor knew he where to get it supplied; when it pleased God to put it into the hearts of divers worthy persons of that country, to consider that the primate had not only suffered much by the rudeness

of the rabble, (in the plunder of his property,) but also by a long and expensive sickness; so they sent him, unknown to each other, divers considerable sums; so that he had in a few weeks enough to supply all his present occasions, and also to defray the expenses of his journey into England."

The archbishop attended the king in the Isle of Wight, and when that unfortunate monarch was brought to the scaffold, some of lady Peterborough's servants, (her house being opposite Charing Cross,) went and informed the good old primate of it, and asked him if he would see the king once more before he was put to death. He was at first unwilling, but was at last persuaded, and when he came upon the leads of the house, the king was in his speech: the lord primate stood still, and said nothing, but sighed, and lifting up his hands and his eyes full of tears towards heaven, seemed to pray earnestly;-but when his majesty had done speaking, and had pulled off his cloak and doublet, and stood stripped in his waistcoat, and the villains in vizards began to put up his hair, the archbishop, no longer able to endure such a dismal sight, grew pale and began to faint, and was carried down and laid on his bed.

After this sad tragedy the government was managed by a corrupt oligarchy, till Cromwell turned them out, and, by the help of the army, set himself up as protector. The archbishop, however, saw that such a state could not be permanent; he was too well acquainted with the history of the revolutions of empires not to know that military usurpations are of short continuance. He accordingly frequently comforted the loyal party with the assurance that the usurpation would quickly expire, and that the king would return unto his throne, though he himself, he said, should not live to see it. This he declared to several persons, adding, also, that the usurpation of Cromwell was but like that of some of the Grecian tyrants, which, “As it began by an army, so it commonly ended with the death of the usurper.

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Cromwell affected a great respect for the primate, and promised to restore to him part of the lands belonging to the archbishoprick of Armagh, but he delayed the passing of the grant from time to time, and after the death of his grace, he made a pretence by imputing malignancy, that is loyalty, to the primate's daughter and her husband, to free himself from the promise.

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When the usurper began to persecute the Episcopal clergy great severity, by forbidding them not only the exercise of their professional function, but also the privilege of keeping school for a maintenance, archbishop Usher was desired to use his interest with him in their behalf.

In compliance with their desires he went, and after much en

*The discerning and dispassionate observer of the present times may, without incurring the risk of being charged with presumption or extravagant credulity, apply the same observation and rule to existing circumstances.

treaty Cromwell promised to take off the restraints he had imposed upon the clergy, provided they meddled not with matters relating to his government; but when the primate went to him a second time, to get this promise ratified, and put into writing, he found him under the hands of his surgeon, who was dressing a great boil which he had on his breast; so Cromwell told the archbishop to sit down, and that when he was dressed he would speak with him; whilst this was doing, Cromwell said to his lordship, "If this core, (pointing to the boil) were once out I should quickly be well:" to whom Usher replied, "I doubt the core lies deeper; there is a core at the heart that must be taken out, or else it will not be well."-"Ah!" said Cromwell," so there is, indeed," and sighed. But when the primate began to speak to him concerning the business he came about, he answered to this effect: "That he had since better considered it, having advised with his council about it, and that they thought it not safe for him to grant liberty of conscience to those sort of men who were restless and implacable enemies to him and his government;" and so he took his leave of him, though with good words and outward civility. The primate, seeing it was in vain to urge it any farther, said little more to him, but returned home very much troubled, and concerned that his endeavours had met with no better success; but he said to those who came to him, "This false man has broken his word with me, and refuses to perform what he promised; well, he will have little cause to glory in his wickedness, for he will not continue long; the king will return, though I shall not live to see it, you may."

Not long after this the good prelate removed from London to Ryegate, where he immediately set about finishing his Chronologia Sacra. He was now very aged, and though both in body and mind he was healthy and vigorous for a man of his years, yet his eye sight was extremely decayed by his constant studying, so that he could scarcely see to write but at a window, and that in the sunshine, which he constantly followed in clear days from one window to another.

He had now frequent thoughts of his dissolution; and as he was wont to note every year in his almanack, over against the day of his birth, the year of his age," so I find," says his biographer, "this year, 1655, this note written in his own hand: Now aged 79 years, my days are full;' and presently after in capital letters, • RESIGNATION.'”

He died at Ryegate, March 21, 1656, and his friends intended to have buried him there in the Countess of Peterborough's vault; but Cromwell, who knew in what high estimation the archbishop was held, and willing to obtain a little popularity, insisted upon burying him pompously at his own expense. The funeral was indeed splendidly solemn, but, after all, the crafty usurper left the archbishop's relations to bear the charge, though they could scarcely afford it.

This great man was of a very hale constitution, which he preserved by temperance. He was contented with a little sleep, for

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