A SERMON Preached at the Chappel Royal IN THE TOWER, UPON Sunday the Sixth Day of January, 1694/5.

BEING THE Feast of the Epiphany: AS ALSO, The Day whereon the greatest part of that Au­dience appeared in Deep Mourning, upon the Death of Her SACRED MAJESTY, Our Late Gracious QUEEN MARY.

By JOHN FINGLAS, Prebendary of St. Audoens Dublin.

LONDON, Printed for the Author, 1695.

To the Right Honourable ROBERT Lord Lucas, Baron of Shenfield, Chief Governour of His Ma­jesties Tower of London, and Lord Lieutenant of the Hamlets there­unto belonging.

My Noble LORD,

'TWill be no Compliment, in any Sense, to tell Your Lordship, that, as You did not easily perswade me into the Pulpit; so, nothing less than Your Commands, should (at this time) have forced me to the Press.

I am here a Stranger, under all the disad­vantages that may be, for Study; and not only [Page] so, but my Thoughts at present, more ruffled and disturb'd than ever.

As 'twas my misfortune to have but very few Friends here, so, 'twas my happiness, that they were the Best and greatest that England could afford: Her late MAJESTY of Bles­sed Memory; and His Grace, the Late Lord Arch-Bishop of CANTERBURY.

The Affair I came to manage, being a Service to the Church, an endeavour to remove a most Perfidious incroachment on her Rights; recom­mended me to Their Favour; and the Design ap­peared to be so Just, and so much for the Pub­lick Good; that, as his Grace, upon the first no­tice, was pleased heartily to espouse it: So, when it was (in His MAJESTIES absence) proposed to the QUEEN; it gained Her approbation so far; that with a great, but Sweet Condiscension, She was pleased to say, She would become my So­licitress Her self. But, Alas! All this now, serves only to agravate my sorrow, and heighten [Page] my loss, which is more than ordinary, and every way great, not only in Common, as a Subject, not only in a more particular Relation, as a Church-man (tho' the meanest of all) but, in my, Yet more private Circumstances; having at a great expence of time and Charge, brought this Matter to be fit for a Royal Decision, and, all of a sudden, deprived of Those, who were gra­ciously pleased to Patronize both me and it. And tho' I have this Comfort; that, as that God, who hath called Her MAJESTY to an Incor­ruptible Crown, hath left us her other Self (whom God long continue to us, and over us) from whom I may hope for all due Encourage­ment: So, his Grace is Succeeded by that Person, of the Age, who is most Eminent for such Services.

But Yet, notwithstanding these Abatements, I cannot easily extricate my self, from the Sur­prize and Amazement that so justly seized me; and 'tis well, if the effects thereof, do not too visibly appear in the following Discourse.

But I know 'twas not Your Lordships Appro­bation of my performance, but Your Zeal for the Subject, together with the joynt desires of Some, whose importunity I resisted, that made You resolve (against all that I could offer to the contrary) to have it Published. You re­membred, it had given You some faint Idea's of Your Dear, tho' Dead Mistriss; and contain'd some Motives (the best I could think of, with relation to the subject, and as Many as the time would allow) to promote the Service of Your Royal Master, wherein (I can bear Your Lordship witness) You would think the last drop of Your Blood well spent.

May Your Loyal Example have its due in­fluence upon others, and convince, even those un­reasonable (shall I call them?) Men among us, who are so strangely insatuated, as to act every way, as much against their Interest, as their Duty. And if any thing I have said here, to which (tho' I now find it swelled beyond the [Page] ordinary bulk of a Sermon) I have not added a Syllable, but omitted much of what I deli­vered, may contribute to the same end. I shall have all I desire, and all I design, be­sides the satisfaction of giving Your Lordship a full proof of my Obedience, and thereby mani­festing, how much, I am, in all Sincerity,

My LORD,
Your Lordships Most Humble Servant, JOHN FINGLAS.

THere has happen'd some small Mistakes at the Press, especially in the Pointing, which the Reader is desired to consider, and help with his Pen.

ISAIAH XL. 6, 7, 8.

The Voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field.

The grass withereth, the flower fadeth, because the spirit of the Lord hath blown upon it: surely the people is grass.

The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever.

I QUESTION not, but upon the read­ing of the Text, you easily observ'd it, to suit but too well with the sad and bewailed occasion of this days Solem­nity; which hath given us (beyond any thing to us known) a doleful Instance of its Truth; and all I can say, will come infinitely short of the sad but clear Comment, which the Breath Lam. 4. 2 [...]. of our Nostrils, She of whom we said, Nations shall rest under her shadow; hath given us upon it, who being dead yet speaks, yea crys, in a [Page 10] lowder than the Prophets Voice, All flesh is grass, &c.

All flesh. It pleased the great Creator of all things to make at first Three Sorts of Living Creatures; Angels he made pure spirits with­out flesh, and therefore, only for Heaven, not to dwell on Earth. Brutes he made flesh, with­out immortal souls, and therefore, only for Earth, not to pretend to Heaven. Man is of a middle Nature, partaking both of flesh and spirit; and therefore made both for Heaven and Earth. But as his flesh is but to minister and serve his spirit, so he was made for Earth, but as his pas­sage and way to Heaven, not, that this should he his home or happiness.

BUT, how wofully have we perverted this Order, whose incessant cares for the things of this life, sufficiently declare, that we believe our selves here at home? One man eagerly pur­suing sensual pleasures, as if he had nothing to mind, or hope for, but what the beasts enjoy. Another, Riches, and that with so much earnest­ness, as if he were to enjoy the same for ever; tho' the fool knows not but this very night he must part from them. A third hunting after ho­nour and dominion; so, as to stick at nothing that may compass it, and yet little knows, how soon his Honour may be laid in the dust. A [Page 11] fourth after popular applause, which is nothing but a blast, nothing more vain and uncertain than it is. Whereas, if we did but rightly un­derstand our state and condition here, and serious­ly consider, that all flesh is grass, we would little value these things, and at best, use the World, as if we us'd it not; Ʋse it, no otherwise than a traveller doth his Inn; and how is that? when he comes there, tho' he finds every thing ready, a room well furnish'd, and all things therein, not only conve­nient but delightful too; yet he is not so silly as to set his heart upon them; because he knows, on the morrow he is to leave them and be gone; and, there's no Man that travels home-ward, that would multiply businesses on himself unnecessari­ly in the way. When he is at home, in his house, he may find sundry imployments to busie him­self about, but in the Inn he cares for nothing, but rest and refreshment; so, men that are thoughtful, or wise, know themselves to be but strangers and Pilgrims here; and therefore look1 Pet. 2. 11. for a Countrey and City to come; and so think it no wisdom, to intermeddle too much in the affairs of that Countrey, through which only they are to pass; but as Citizens of Heaven send up their hearts desire, where they profess their treasure is. This Lesson our Saviour teacheth, when he tells us, After all these things below do Mat 6. 31, 32. [Page 12] the Gentiles seek, but seek ye the kingdom of God, and the righteousness of it. And St. Paul assures, us, the fashion of this world passeth away; and1 Cor. 7. 31. wisheth us not to fashion our selves to it.

Could a Traveller justly Seize all the valuable things that occur in his way, and convey them to his home, so as to be of advantage to him there; his endeavouring it, might be the more excusable. And so, in our case, could a man carry the World to Hell, to bribe the flames, or corrupt his tormentors, there were something to be said for our fondness of it; but the Psalmist hath already assur'd us of the contrary, His Psal. 49. 17. glory shall not descend after him. Or could he (tho at the expence of all his worldly injoyments) buy out his pardon, or procure his peace, be­fore he come there; This might well excuse our grasping at it: but that's not to be done, neither, for the redemption of the soul is precious, Ver. 8 and ceaseth for ever: And what shall a man give Mat. 16. 26 in exchange for his soul? For what material thing can equalize a Spirit? Many things may be had, more precious and fine than the Body, but all of them have no proportion to a Spiritual Being. St. Paul, we know, counts all things but dung; and can we think that God will takePhil. 3. 8. dung in Exchange for a Soul? O! how dread­ful will it be at last, to think, that for a little of [Page 13] the world, for the satisfaction of a lust, for a few drossie pleasures, and sensual delights, which have been here (not without the mixture of much sorrow and allay injoyed) you have lost your souls, and forfeited your interest in those Mansions that are above, where there are pleasures for evermore: and all this (in a great measure) because we believe not, at least, mind not this Voice in the Text, All flesh is grass. And what more withering and fading? Dust it is, andGen. 18. 27. 1 Cor. 15. 42. what baser? Corruption it is, and what viler? And yet, was the Son of God himself, for our sakes (as at this time) manifested in the flesh; and not only so, but as the Apostle tells us, in the likeness of sinful flesh; tho without sin, yetRom. 8. 3. like a sinner, so like, that to outward appear­ance, no eye could discern any difference, be­cause subject to those miseries and necessities which are the consequences of sin in other men.

WAS this a Manifestation? it was rather an Obscuration and vailing of his glory; yet mani­fested he was, as the end, and design of the Work he was about requir'd; manifested to ignomi­ny and reproach for sin: and this was one, and a great point of Christs humiliation, that he took not upon him the nature of Angels, but the seed Heb. 2. 6. of Abraham.

BUT we need not boggle at this, since it did [Page 14] contribute to make him a more compleat Savi­our. In that it behoved Him to be made like unto his Verse 17. brethren, that he might he a merciful High Priest; And in that he suffered by being tempted, he is able to Verse 18. succour them also that are tempted.

RATHER, Let it prevail with us, to Praise God, for the great honour He hath confer'd upon our Nature in the Flesh of his Son, which in him, is an­nointed with more grace and glory, and fill'd with more Vast and Unmatchable Perfections, than all the Angels in Heaven, are together capable of, for, tho' for a while, He was made lower than the Verse 9. Angels, for the Purpose of his suffering; yet, he is 1 Pet. 3. 22. now set down on the right hand, of the Majesty on high; Angels, Principalities, and Powers, being Ephes. 1. 21. made Subject unto Him.

THIS Indeed, should make us put a greater Value upon this flesh of ours, than to prostitute it, to mean and dishonourable services. It should make us labour to preserve it pure, and unspotted, and to glorifie God in our bodies, as well as in our 1 Cor. 6. 20. spirits, which are his. It should perswade us, to live no longer to our selves, as Men, after our1 Cor. 3. 3. own lusts, and ways, but as Men that are not their own, but his that bought them; to live in his service, and to his glory.

THIS will be likewise the best course we can take to hearten us, against this Voice, in the [Page 15] Text, but neither this, nor ought else, can ex­empt us from the comon lot of all flesh, which the Text assures us, is but grass, and all the good­liness thereof as the flower of the field; the grass wi­thereth, the flower fadeth, which in other words is no more, nor less than this, it is appointed for Heb. 12. 27. all Men once to die.

ALL Flesh is grass, All that we see, all that we admire, all the most Tempting Objects, we gaze and dote upon, yea the whole World, and all that is therein, is all but flesh, and all flesh is grass.

BUT, Is this a Truth so Universal, that it ad­mits of no exception? tho' it may hold good, as to the generality of Men, yet are not the Princes and Monarchs, and Heroes of the World exempted? have not they something in them, that may Pri­viledge them, against the Insults, at least, of the King of Terrors? something, that they may (upon occasion) plead against the common Fate? The Pro­phet seems to agree to all this, and in the very Text, makes some difference between a mean and a great Person, between a Subject and a Prince; but what is it? No other, than is between green grass and a flower; Which, tho' more beautiful to the Eye, more sweet and pleasing to the Sense, is yet, every whit as fadeing, as perishing; and as sub­ject to be trod under foot, or to be scorch'd and wither'd by the Sun, as the grass is: As they grow [Page 16] together in the same field, so they are equally liable to be cut down by the edge of the same Syth: and therefore it is, that the Prophet after the Voice had cried, All flesh is grass, adds, and all the goodliness of it, is as the flower of the field.

BY the goodliness of the flesh, he means it's Youth, it's Health, it's Vigour, or whatever else in it, is most Valuable, and Pleasing. By it, we may understand the state, and condition of a Man that wants nothing, Nay, that abounds in all things the World can afford: As Riches, Honour, and Pleasure. Flesh, saith the Prophet, in all the glory of it, in the free and full injoyment of all things on the highest pinnacle of honour, seated upon a Throne, crowned with Diadems, and incircled, with all the Badges of Royalty and Grandeur; yet, in the midst of all this Pomp and Splendor, it's still but flesh, and liable to such damping thoughts as these.

MAY not God this very night, take me a­way, like the Fool in the Gospel, from all these things, or these from me? May I not, nay, must I not, within these few years, it may be, within these few weeks, or days, instead of my honour, be laid in the dust? instead of my Pur­ple and Scarlet, be cloathed with rottenness? In­stead of my Luxuries and Delicacies, become my self the food of Worms? Is not the poor Soul [Page 17] in my bosome, an Immortal soul? must it not have a being so long as there's a God, who is able to sup­port it? And will not the gayeties of my flesh, and the ornaments of my mind, my baggs, and my titles, my pleasures, and my preferments, my ve­ry learning, and my natural endowments, and eve­ry thing, save my sins (which I must then reckon for) forsake me, when I enter into that Immortality? I say when a Man shall take himself thus to task, and his heart summons him, to such serious thoughts as these; How will he be starttl'd and amaz'd, un­der the Sense, of his own Frailty, and his little hopes of a better State? And, how dreadful, will it be, for his Immortal Soul, to have nothing be­tween it, and Eternal Misery, but that, which will crumble and moulder, into dust, and leave the poor soul that trusted to it, to sink into bottom­less calamities.

Nor do our earthly injoyments always con­tinue with us, even to the last; but often leave us, before we our selves go off. Riches makes themselves Wings, Honour is fadeing, Wit, Beauty, and Strength fail, all Created Delights will quick­ly have an End; and the Casualties that attend their very Enjoyment, doth sufficiently discover their Vanity, and the little stress, that's to be laid upon them: One Rich to day, and Poor to mor­row; in Health, Sound, and Strong, to day, to mor­row Languishing and Expiring on a sick Bed; now [Page 18] advanc'd to the high'st Pinnacle of Honour, anon deprest, and expos'd to Infamy, and Disgrace,; at­tended by Trains of Parasites and Flatterers, to day, to morrow deserted, slighted, and forsaken, by all: And as it is with Men, so it is with Things. Cities, Towns, and Villages, Flourishing and Beau­tiful, Rich and Opulent, to day, to morrow laid in Ashes, and levell'd with the ground. So that there's no Flower more fading, no Bubble, more vanishing, no Dream, more deluding, nothing more Vain, nothing more uncertain than the World is. It's all but grass, or at best but as the flower of the field; the grass withereth, the flower fadeth.

But in the mid'st of all this Misery, Vanity, and Ʋncertainty. The Prophet adds, what may stay, and support us, But the word of our God shall stand for ever.

ALL that's in the World, all the happiness that, that Flesh, which is but grass, can pretend to in its passage here, is full of Vanity, Ʋncertainty, and Disapointments, and then usually fail a Man most, when he most of all relies on them; which must needs be one of the greatest Defeats that can be. For, those things wherein Men fear Miscarriage, or expect Disapointment, they prepare such a di­sposition of mind, as may be fit to bear it; but when a Man is surpriz'd with evil, when that hap­pens which he least expected, the Novelty increa­seth the trouble: And the Scripture expresseth the greatness [Page 19] ness of a Judgment, by the unexpectedness of it; When thou didst terrible things which we look­ed Isa. 6. 4▪ 3. not for. Their not looking for it, rendred the Judgment so much the more terrible. A Breach in an instant, a momentary, a sudden destruction, a swift Damnation, a flying Role, a winged Woman, are all Expressions to denote a severe Judgment. Now Men are too too apt to promise themselves much Content­ment and Satisfaction in the fruition of world­ly things; and to be herein disappointed (as they usually are) must needs be a great sur­prize, and occasion no small vexation.

BUT the Word of God is an abiding Word, as founded on the Immutability of Gods own Truth, he that makes it his Refuge, relies on the Omnipotency of God himself; and has all the Strength of the Almighty, ingag'd to help him. Asa was safe while he depended up­on God in his Promises, against the huge Hosts of the Ethiopians and Lubims; but when2 Chron. 16. 7, 8, 9. he turned aside to other aids, and trusted too much in the Arm of Flesh, he purchased to himself nothing but perpetual Wars. And this was that which established the Throne of Jehoshaphat, and caused the fear of the Lord to 2 Chron. 17. 9. 11. fall on all the Kingdoms of the Land, that were round about him; because he honour'd the [Page 20] Word of God, and caused it to be taught to his People. When Israel and Judah, did at any time forget to lean upon Gods Word, and betook themselves to correspondence with Idolatrous People, or other the like helps, they found themselves always bereft of succour; and all their hopes deceived and blasted. Which should teach us not to rest upon our own Wisdom, nor lean upon our own Strength, nor build our hopes and assurances upon Hu­mane Foundations; but in all Conditions, lay Hold upon Gods Word, which shall stand for Ever, and support us in any Extremity, and carry us, Through the valley of the shadow Psal. 23. 4. of death it self.

AND thus I have done with what I de­sign'd to offer from the Text, but to apply it to the Occasion, I know neither how to begin nor where to end.

The Voice said, Cry. BUT how many Voices now Cry? The Church Cries, O my Protectress! The State Cries, O my Supportress! The King Cries, O the Friend of my Bosome, the Joy of my Life, the Companion of my Youth, the Sharer in my Joys, the Comfort in my Troubles, the Directress in my Counsels! The Court Cries, my Darling, my Delight, my Crown, and my Glory! The Subject Cries, my Shield, my [Page 21] Defence, the joynt Author of my present Peace, the Foundress of my Happiness, the Defender, the Promoter, and (in some sense) the Resto­rer of my Religion; The most Careful▪ Pru­dent, the most Tender and Indulgent Queen, and in all respects my Parent! But all these distinct Voices that compose the several Notes of this Mournful Harmony, do all meet, and joyn, and end in this Chorus, All flesh is grass, and all the glory therof as the flower of the Field.

THE Voice Cries so Loud, and the Blow (tho' for our Sins justly inflicted) is every way so amazing, that the very thoughts of it were enough to make a Man lose all me­thod, tho' he had studied it never so care­fully.

AND therefore, That I may neither confound you, nor lose my self, I shall on­ly glance at some few things, that may satis­fie us, what great Advantages we might have reapt from her Life, had it pleas'd the Wise Disposer of all things to have continued it. And this will naturally tend:

First. To give us a due sense of our loss.

Secondly, To quicken us to such Duties, whereby (since 'tis impossible to improve it to our Temporal Advantage) we may yet make the best of it, that our Misfortune as well as our other Circumstances will ad­mit.

ALL that know me, can tell, I neither love nor use to offer any thing from this place by Hearsay, and yet it cannot be ex­pected, that I had the Honour of any such Access, as to capacitate me to say much, from my own immediate knowledg. But yet this need not discourage me now; since I could easily say more, than what the time would allow, and nothing but what we all know to be true.

I AM not insensible, how the glozeing Tongues of some Mercenary Orators, have Preached both themselves, and these kind of Discourses quite out of credit; as if their design were only to garnish a Dish for Worms, to make a trimming for the Grave, and paint for the Chambers of Death; but all Wise Men know the Vanity of such Varnish, and Colours thus laid on, give no Complexion to a judicious Eye; And how miserably will [Page 23] such Paint melt and drop away, and leave some faces horribly appal'd in that great day of the Lord? When the mouth of all wick­edness shall be stopped, when Funeral Ser­mons shall be shut, and those other Books (Books that cannot err) shall be opened, and the Dead judged by them.

AND therefore there's nothing Ministers should more avoid, than courting and com­plimenting with the Dead and Living too in Funeral Sermons, making them rather Harangues of Commendation to the Dead, than any serious Summons and Alarums to the Living; when it may be, neither the Life, nor the Death of the Deceased, gave any Evi­dence of such grace or comfort, as deserves either the imitation or the commendation of the Living.

BUT I'm resolv'd to be innocent from this great Offence, which is the Reproach, and may prove the Ruin of these kind of Ser­mons. At least I need not fear it now, since if I had so little Integrity, that I would, yet that incomparable Queen, whose loss we now deplore, had so much Excellency, that I could not flatter.

THE loss of a good (tho' private) Person, is at all times, especially, in bad times, a just [Page 24] ground of deep sorrow; What then must be the loss of a good Queen, who is a Com­mon Stock, in which millions have a share? A burning Lamp, which shin'd and impart­ed its Light to Three Great Kingdoms? No wonder if the exhausting of such a Store, the quenching of such a Lamp, should be matter of doleful complaint.

AND here I could willingly indulge both yours and my own passion, that we might sit down a while in silence, and only by the Language of our Tears speak our sense of this heavy, this irreparable loss: But all Passions, especially that of Grief, need rather a Bridle than a Spurr; and we have some­thing elfe to do upon such an extraordinary occasion, than to bewaile our loss after the common rate, tho' that's allowed us too.

A BRIGHT Star is removed; nay, our Sun is set: well may Darkness over-spread our Horrizon; A Cedar is fallen, well mayZech. 11. 2. the Fir-trees howl. A Cedar, which had God so pleased, might have stood and flourished much longer: But we often see the loftiest Cedar cut down before the useless Shrub, and they frequently fall (says one) who while they stood, not only graced the Forrest, [Page 25] but gave shade and shelter to others too. And oh! that we had not now the Occasion to bewail the Fall of the most Flourishing Plant, that grac'd our own or any other Soil; verify­ing that of St. Paul, The fashion of this world 1 Cor. 7. 31. passeth away; and we together with it. The Throne leaves some, and others leaves it; and as there is but one Kingdom which cannot be sha­ken, Heb. 12. 28. Eternal in the Heavens; so there is but one King, the Immortal King of Ages, God over all, blessed for ever. All the rest are but flesh, and All flesh is grass.

AFTER such a Voice, what can warrant any of you that you shall be alive while too morrow? Who can be security for his own life one moment beyond the present? You'll say my Youth, my Strength, my Temperance, and my Vigour, these will secure me: But was there ever any, more healthy, more lively, more temperate, or more vigorous than the Queen? How sprightly, how fair, how hail, how charm­ing, was she but this day three Weeks, and al­most a Week after? And yet the King of Ter­rors stole upon her, before her self, or at least, her friends suspected, being even (after some days illness) look'd upon as safe, and past all danger, on Tuesday; and yet, beyond all ex­pectation given over, and the Sentence of Death [Page 26] pronounc'd by her Physicians, before Noon on Wednesday. So vain a thing is Man.

BUT yet this can be no surprize to those, whose usual exercise it is to die daily; and as St. Ambrose conceived of Valentinian the Emperour, so may we of her Majesty; The Evidences past in her health, are fair Proofs of that Disposition her Soul was in, in her Sickness. But more of this anon; for tho all her earthly advantages are now become the spoils of Mortality, yet she's not to be laid in the Dust like Common Mold, nor deposited in the Shades with silence.

IT's true; in the Blessed State to which she is now arrived, crowned with an Incorruptible Diadem, in the Company of Angels and Saints, and all her Triumphant Ancestors; she needs no praises of ours; but yet, that, which every good man may claim, is much more justly her due; Commendation after Death, being a Just Tribute to a Religious Life.

CONSULT the Scriptures, and you shall scarce find one Godly Man laid in his Grave without an Epitaph of Honour; view the Fathers, and you shall observe it their practice, to honour the Death of the Good, especially of Princes; and if this had never been done before, it might be now allow'd to her, who was as well the best, as the greatest among Women. 'Twere [Page 27] easie to shew it, in the Instances of her Illustrious Birth (being descended from a Royal Race of Kings, as well the greatest, as of the longest and most interrupted Succession now in the Christian World) in her Suitable Edueation, in her Natural and Acquired Accomplishments; which rendred her the Darling of the Age, as well as the Glory of her Sex. But we must leave these, and many other Advantages, with all her great Actions, to fill up Chronicles; and they will better become the History and Annals of the Age, than the Nook of a Ser­mon.

THE Sweetness of her Temper, her Beauty, Wit, and Charms of Conversation, which made her like Vespasian, Deliciae humani generis, and rendred her Amiable and Dear, to all that had the honour to know her (tho they were Gifts from above) yet must they now be past over in silence, as being Praeda Mortis; A Spoil unto Death and the Grave.

WHICH Consideration, should cure the undue Esteem, which too many Christians seem to put upon them; being more ambitious to outvy others in every thing, rather than real Holiness; which (after all's done) is the only Ornament that Death cannot spoil us of.

NOR were the Endowments of her Mind any whit inferiour to those of her great Birth, and other Personal Advantages; Her Appre­hension more quick and lively; her Judgment more penetrating and solid, her Elocution more ready, fluent, graceful, and every way more perswading, than is usually found in her Sex. And what good use She made of these Talents, I need not tell you; and it may justly upbraid many other Ladies, even of the First Rank, who (I know not upon what pretences) omit improving them the same way.

I AM sure she had more Business to divert her, more Plenty and Abundance to entertain her, as much Beauty to tempt her, and more Favour and Honour to intangle her, than any of them all; and liv'd in the same Atheistical degenerate Age that they live in. An Age wherein a sin­cere and serious, a religious and devout Tem­per, is expos'd to Ridicule, and esteem'd the most unmodish, unfashionable, and useless thing that can be.

AND yet all these disadvantages, all these temptations to raise her Pride, and make her haughty, to render her careless, secure, and in­devout; serv'd only to raise her Ambition, to behave her self more agreeable to her great Quality, by a Carriage truly exemplary, and [Page 29] every way great; A Carriage, that was in all re­spects, religious, honourable, and vertuous.

HER Circumstances, we know, were such as would have allowed her to have indulg'd her self in a great many of the Vanities, which a loose and sinful Age might prompt her to. But these she always look'd upon with the great­est indifference and contempt imaginable. She was no enemy to the Modes and innocent Cu­stoms of her Countrey, but yet us'd them with so much indifference and unconcernedness, as to her self, that could not but discover the lit­tle value she put upon them; Her Dress always modest and becoming, and suited more to her Quality than the Mode; that is, more rich than gay, and without the addition of Artificial Handsomness; which, as she needed it not, so neither would she censure, or restrain the liber­ty of those that did: But she had that within, the Ornament of a meek but great Spirit; which was more truly valuable, and wherein she did every way excel.

THE Great God of Heaven, the Creator and Disposer of all things, was chiefly regard­ed in all her Behaviour; and the first and main Principle of all her Actions.

HENCE sprung that awful regard and re­verence of his Divine Majesty, which was vi­sible [Page 30] in all her Carriage; and I have heard, that She us'd frequently to express a great sense of the Folly, the Ignorance, and Impudence, of those (tho esteem'd Wits) who pretend to deny the being of a Deity; when they had such clear Convictions of Him, his Attributes, and Provi­dence, in every particular of the Creation; even such as were obvious and discoverable to their very Senses. And as no Pulpit Discourses pleas'd her better, than such as were dexterously levell'd against this unreasonable, this hellish Error; so for prevention of its growth, in an age so fruitful in evil, they were always com­manded to the Press.

IT was upon this Belief, upon this Know­ledge (as the best Foundation) that she rear'd that Noble Structure of Piety and Devotion, Uprightness and Sincerity, Purity and Charity, and all other the Duties of Christianity, that shined so brightly thro the whole Course of her Life.

BUT by a Discourse, Just come to myDr. Wake's Sermon, at Grays. Inn, on the same occa­sion. hands, I find my self prevented, and every way out-done, as to what I offer'd upon these Heads; therefore, I chose rather to refer the Reader to it; and the rather because that Reve­rend Author speaks all or most from his own knowledge, which may render it more Au­thentick; [Page 31] and more Satisfactory to him: and (as He himself observes) the Reader need not fear his imposing on him; for he may Defie him to flatter, if he would.

THERE, you may behold this Great Queen Delineated at large. You may see how Great, how Good, how every way Ex­emplary She was in Her Life, and no less so, in Her Death; being an Object not lightly to be laid to all our Hearts, not only as Subjects, not only as Christians, but as Men, as Mor­rals too; warning all that have seen or shall hear of the sudden blasting of this Flower, that all flesh is grass, and louder than any other Voice crys, All the goodliness thereof is but as the flower of the field.

THERE, you may see how great a Friend She was to the Church, how careful of the welfare of the State, and how much She did contribute to the Hapiness of both. How Re­ligious, how Pious, in Publick: how Ex­act, How Punctual in Private: How constant in the Chappel: How frequent in the Closet: and how Sincere and Devout in both.

I HAD once the Honour to be near Her, when She received the Blessed Sacra­ment, and I shall never forget, with what Reverence, what Humility, what Zeal and In­tention, [Page 32] She did Participate of that Divine Mistery; which plainly shewed, She was as Sincerely as Seemingly, Devout.

HER Affections seem'd to be raised above their common pitch, and Her Carriage, du­ring the whole Action, was so Heavenly and so Divine; as if Her Soul had actually ascended to that God, to whom Her Prayers were di­rected: And brought to my thoughts, that saying of St. Lukes, concerning St. Stephen, when he saw the Heavens opened, and Jesus standing at Gods Right Hand. His face, says the Text, was as the face of an An­gel.

AND now, She, that by such remarkable Instances of Piety and Devotion, Manifested the Profound Reverence and Veneration She had for God, could not be wanting in any regard to the rest of his Commandments: She that was so exact in the Duties of the First, could not be defective in those of the Second Table. Her Righteousness was no Less Illustrious in that respect, than Her Piety was in the other.

HER Word was as Sacred as any Oath, and no inconvenience would make Her flinch from what She had once promised. She so much abhorred a Dishonorable Recess, that [Page 33] She had no great Value for those, who by Little Arts and Shifts would free themselves from their Ingagements; and thereby disap­point the Expectations they had raised in o­thers.

BUT I need not stay upon this. Her Ver­tues in this kind were so Eminent, and so Con­spicuous, that (considering the Orb She shone in) it was impossible they could be conceal'd: And this was it, that made Her so justly Ad­mired, and so entirely Beloved of all.

She was of that Sweetness of Temper, of that Kindness, Affability, and (considering Her great Quality) of that Condiscension and Courtesie, in all Her Demeanour, as rendered Her very Dear, and Her Conversation very Grateful, and Desirable, to all that had the Honour to be near Her.

SHE was usually very Pleasant and Chear­ful, but Her Mirth was always managed with Discretion, and bounded with Religion; Her Prudence kept her within the limits of Reason, and her Piety restrained her from be­ing Vain: In both which, She was very Excel­lent, and very Exemplary.

SHE was in Her Conversation (notwith­standing the Respect due to her Quality) far from ingrossing all the Discourse to her self: [Page 34] And when She did speak She still (according to the Wise Mans Character of the good Woman) opened her mouth with wisdom, and in Prov. 31. 26. her tongue was the Law of kindness. And She did so far excel all others this way, that, if a Stranger, who had never seen her, had come in, and found her at work among her Maids of Honour (as he often might) or in the com­pany of other Ladies, without any Badges of Royalty and Distinction: He had been very Ʋndiscerning, if (after a little observation ei­ther of her graceful Meen; or winning way of Address) he had not presently concluded, That's the QUEEN. In a Word, She was so great a Proficient in all the Arts of Obliging, that She Reigned over the Hearts, as well as the Persons, of all those, who were happy in the Honour of her Converse.

AND now, She who was thus Exact, thus Perfect, in all the Duties both of the First and Second Table, must needs Excel in that which is the great Badge and Character of them all, Charity; of which She was so Compleat a Pattern, that, if She out-did her Self in any one Thing, it was in this; which She extended both to the Persons and Necessities of all.

Being all Goodness her self, She was apt to believe most People Good too, or at least, bet­ter [Page 35] than perhaps they were; Charity thinking 1 Cor. 13. 6. no evil. And She used this good opinion of others, as an Instrument to make them, what She was so willing to signifie She thought them. She would never diminish the just prai­ses of any that deserved them; nay, would rather lessen their other failings, and com­mend them for some one good quality, to cover a great many bad ones: And so would make People good by believing them to be so, and by this ingagement make them asha­med to deceive or disappoint her expectation, and thoughts of them.

AND then, as to the Necessities of others, She was willing to Her Power, yea and beyond 2 Cor. 8. 3. her Power, to relieve them. God who always Honours them, that honour him, had given1 Sam. 2. 30. her Riches and Honour in abundance, as is said of King Jehoshaphat. Yet her Heart was not2 Chron. 17. 5. Vers. 6. puffed up by them, but lifted up under them in the ways of the Lord. And the great satis­faction She took in them, was the opportu­nity they afforded her of doing Good; and when at any time they would not answer the great Designs of her Willing Soul, the fore­mentioned discourse tells us, what her con­cernPag. 36. and regret was.

SHE had a deep Sense of the Wants of all Persons, and would catch at the least hint of any proper Object of Charity, when at any time mentioned; and never declin'd relieving any Indigent, either Families or private Persons, when recommended to her.

NOR was her Charity confined only to such Here, but extended to Ireland too; and not only to those there, who had suffered for being Protestants, or for espousing her Interest; but even to the Irish Orphans, that is, the Chil­dren of such Parents who died in actual Rebel­lion, and Fighting against Her; and That, after they had Robb'd, and Stripp'd, and Kill'd, and Murdered many of Her Loyal Subjects: Yet to their Children, was her great Charity design'd: And She was (to my knowledge) very soli­citous, to have some Fund settled for their sup­port, that they might be brought up in the Protestant Religion, and maintained, while fit to be put to Trades, or otherwise disposed of.

THIS was Charity indeed, the doing Good for Gods sake, without any other than a Chri­stian and truly Pious inducement, to lay up in 1 Tim. 6. 19. store a good foundation against the time to come, And to make to her self friends of the Mam­mon Luk. 16. 9. of unrighteousness.

SHE had a great compassion for such Fo­reigners as fled for their Religion, as being forward to do good to all, so especially to those of the Houshold of Faith.

BUT She had a particular concern for such indigent Persons, whose Circumstances had been any ways considerable in the World; there being some Objects of real Charity, which are not so to vulgar Eyes or Purses, on whom She would Confer, and whom She would Sur­prize with great and suitable assistances; and to such, She was generally Kind in the very manner, as well as measure of her Charity; being as tender of their Modesty, as She was compassionate of their Necessity, and by her sweet obliging Way, made her Gift seem more a Present than a Charity. But I should never have done, should I insist on particu­lars, or say all that might be said of Her in a Private Capacity, as a Christian. And how much more might be said of Her in Relation to others?

AS She was the best of Queens, so She was the best of Mistresses, to those who had the Ho­nour to serve her; never (as I am informed) urging her commands upon them, so much by her Power and Authority, as by obliging them by her Kindness and Condiscension; treat­ing [Page 38] them more like Friends than Servants. And as their Quality did intitle many of them (as much as any of their fellow Subjects) to her Friendship, so She lost nothing by afford­ing it; but did secure their most ready Obedi­ence upon stronger Principles than that of bare Authority, even those of Love and Grati­tude; which as they are most acceptable and pleasant on all sides, so are they most Faith­ful and most Lasting. In a word, I have been told that Her carriage among them was so Obliging and so Prudent, that She was never known to say or do any thing unworthy of her great Self, or unbecoming that great Wis­dom and Discretion that appeared in all her Actions.

I SHALL now consider her as a Queen and that but briefly, fearing to out-strip my time. And first, As a Queen Consort, As a Wife: and here we may say as the Scripture says, The heart of her Husband did safely trust in her, and Prov. 31. 11, 12. she did him good, and not evil, all the days of her life. Never was Woman more a Crown Prov. 12. 4. and Ornament to Man. She lived, doubtless with a great Sense of the Covenant of God, that was betwixt Them, upon her Heart, and might say, as Her Royal Grandfather in his Message to his Queen, that she never trans­grest [Page 39] the Obligation of Fidelity or Affection to Him, no not in Thought.

She was all Love, and all Obedience.

A GREAT part of her care, was to ob­serve every thing that was most pleasing to him, and she was in all respects what she ought to be, A help meet. And the inexpressible Sor­row Gen. 2. 20. His Majesty Groans under, for her Loss, is a too sufficient Manifestation of all this.

AND upon this Head, it might not be improper to add a Word or two as a just and farther Vindication of Her Majesty in the only thing her most malicious Enemies could charge Her with.

SHE, who was so generally and so justly beloved and admir'd by all, had yet the hard thoughts of some few Byast and Unreasonable Men; who pretended forsooth, to be dissatisfied with Her way of coming to the Crown; and were therefore so Impudent, as to Censure Her for it. But had there not been other great and weighty Reasons, yea an absolute necessity for it, as great as the saving Three tottering King­doms from sinking, and our Religion, Laws, and Liberties, and after them, our Estates, and Lives from expiring. Had there been, I say, none of these or any other Inducements, yet the Obligations She lay under as a Wife (which by one [Page 40] of the first Sanctions in Holy-Writ, are farGen. 2. 20. greater, than any Due from a Child, to a Pa­rent) might very well have excused Her; and removed their dislike upon that score, and so rendred Her as amiable and dear, to them, as She was to all others.

AND now we might consider Her as a Queen Regent. And here again, as a farther demonstration of His Majesties great Affection; when the aspiring Designs and Attempts, of a potent and haughty Enemy, forc'd Him from Her and us; and necessarily required His Presence elsewhere, He intrusted the whole Management of the State, to Her Care and Conduct; to which, tho' She was (in His ab­sence) Qualified and Intituled by Law, yet, it was a high Testimony of his confidence in Her prudence, to leave and intrust it to Her sole Care. Which Trust She discharged with such Dexterity, such Exactness, and such ad­mirable Wisdom; that She never gave or left occasion for any Complaint, but rendred all more than silent, satisfied; and not only satisfied, but applauding, and admiring her pru­dent and honourable Conduct.

AND tho' She loved, and even hugg'd Her retirements as Her greatest satisfaction; yet when the Exigences of affairs requir'd it, [Page 41] She would deny her self, and her particular in­clination, to comply with a Duty of a more publick concern; and cheerfully sustained the hurry of Business, which was inevitable, and always acquitted her self (with honour and ap­plause) of the great trust imposed in her.

But never did any man, after a long and un­easie confinement meet his liberty, with more joy and satisfaction, than she did solace her self, when she had escap'd the noise and croud of affairs which must needs have ruffled and disturb'd her quiet, and (so far) lessen'd (or at least) suspended the full injoyment of her self.

And now by such a regular, such a pious, and such a righteous life, we cannot easily suspect she could be unprepar'd even for the most sudden death: and tho the warning was indeed but short; yet we have no reason to fear it was much surprizing to one that always lived in ex­pectation of it.

She was always (as I was inform'd) in the midst of her health, and strength, apprehensive enough of the Disease whereof she died; yet be­ing seiz'd with it, she seem'd not at all discou­rag'd, and profess'd her self intirely willing to acquiesce in the will of God; and all the while of her illness, continued in the same frame: and notwithstanding a complication of Distempers, [Page 42] notwithstanding the trouble someprescriptions of Physicians, and the no less troublesome applications of others; notwithstanding her own Pain and Disorder; of which (her Con­stitution, and other Circumstances consider'd) She could not but be very sensible, yet with an admirable Patience and Resignation to the Will of God; with a great contempt of the Vanities of the World, and with a Holy indif­ference even, to Life it self; She was ready to answer, when it pleased God to call: being impatient in nothing, nor importunate in any thing save an earnest desire that she might know her Danger; and when it was at last declared to her; O God! How like an An­gel, rather than a Soul clogg'd with Flesh, did She receive it? With such an Humble uncon­cernedness, such Submission, and such even­ness of Temper; as nothing could have given, but an Innocent and Meek Spirit, and a Consci­ence void of offence, towards God and towards man. And resigned up Her great Soul in Death, with the same courage, and the same quietness, that She had possest it in patience all Her Life.

AND thus Lived, and thus Died (who can speak it without tears?) this great Queen, this glorious Saint; tho' not full of Years, yet full of Mature Fruits and Graces: when all Men [Page 43] Judged Her worthy of a longer, but God, the on­ly unerring Judge, found Her full ripen'd for a better Life. And after He had prevented her with the blessings of goodness, and set a Crown of pure Gold upon her Head: After He had given Her the Universal Esteem, Love and Admiration, of all that knew Her; the blessing of a good­name; and more than unspotted; a bright and resplendent Reputation. After He had granted her the request of her lips, and shut not out her prayer. After He had made her glad with the light of his Countenance, and given Her the Heaven up­on Earth, the blessing of a calm purified and well assured Conscience. In a word, After He had ta­ken out the Sting of Death, and made it an easie passage to Everlasting Life, He then took Her from her corruptible and Earthly, to an incor­ruptible and Heavenly Crown.

AND She is now safely arriv'd in that hap­py Place, where (as the Father sweetly Warbles) there's Vita Aeterna, Beatitude Perfecta, & Summa Voluptas; Fullness of Joy, Eternity of Life, and Perfection of Bliss. Where Her Faith is turned into Sight, Her Hope into Fruition, and Love, Everlastingly satisfied with the Presence of God, the Face of Jesus Christ, the Fulness of the Spirit, with the Communion and Society of all Saints, and the Spirits of Just Men made Per­fect; [Page 44] where all the Cares and Troubles annext to an Earthly Crown, are now done away; and where She is, and shall be for ever ravi­shed, in joyning with Angels and Saints, and all the Choir of Heaven, to Carrol forth Praises, and Sing Hallelujahs to him that sits upon the Throne, to the Lamb, and to God for ever. The most Glorious Imployment; the most Happy State▪ that the greatest Monarch, the greatest Angel ever arrived to: And tho' it be every way Her Advantage and Her Gain, yet it's still our Loss, and Her many Excellencies be­fore mentioned, may satifie us, what great Advantages we might have expected from her Life, had it pleased the Almighty to have con­tinued it.

AND now let us suspend our Sorrow a while; and consider what may be justly ex­pected from our Selves on this sad Occasion. And here I could lay before you a Pattern worthy of your imitation; such a Pattern, as, in all respects, this Age, perhaps, has not pro­duced; A Patern that may for ever Silence, what, either the greatest or the meanest Person, can offer against the Reasonableness or the Necessity of a Holy Life: and may sufficiently convince us, that there are no insuperable difficulties in Religion; for tho' She was a Queen, [Page 45] yet She was a Woman, of the feebler Sex; a Great and a Rich Woman, and how hardly can such Mat. 19. 23. be saved? A Woman of like passions with your selves, inwardly clogged with the same cor­rupt and sinful Nature, outwardly beset with the like or greater Temptations; and yet She cast off the weight that hung upon Her, broke through the difficulties, that did incompass Her, and ran the Race, which was set before her; and through faith, and patience, hath obtained, and now Inherits the promises, and that sure re­ward, that Crown of Glory, that endless Kingdom; which God hath provided, and Christ hath pur­chased, and promised; to Her, and all Them that love and fear Him, and wait for his ap­pearing.

I COULD likewise here show you, how idle and frothy are the Projects and Purposes, the Designs and Resolutions, which worldly Men are too too apt to propose to themselves on the Hopes, and to build upon the Assu­rances of long Life; than which there is no­thing more Vain, nothing more Ʋncertain.

IF ever any meer Mortal could by any pri­viledge whatsoever, pretend or hope sor Ex­emption from the Arrests of Death; This Good, this Great, this Young, this Healthy Queen might; and yet all the advantage She has now over [Page 46] common Dust, is, that to Her may David's La­mentation over Saul be more fitly applyed; O! how is the Mighty fallen? how lovely and pleasant was2 Sam. 1. 19. She in her Life? and yet She is fallen; as if She had not been Anointed with Oyle. And indeed no­thing in the whole World, could have more convincingly assured us of this truth, that all flesh is grass, than Her Fall hath done.

BUT I hasten to what yet remains▪

THERE are two Duties that seem speci­ally and necessarily to be Incumbent upon us at this time.

First, WHAT we are to do to sanctifie, or at least how we are to demean our selves, that God may sanctifie this great Loss to us.

Secondly, WHAT we are to Do to lessen it, so as it may not prove fatal to us.

First, HOW we are to Improve this so, as to have it sanctified to us.

THIS is certain, by such dispensations as these, the Death of his Servants; God doth fore­warn us of suture Judgments; especially, if they be such as are great and eminent, whether in Church or State: and we have now lost the Greatest in Both; And this is a fearful Sign [Page 47] that some heavy Judgment attends the Rem­nant of the People. This is that whereof our Prophet speaks, Behold the Lord, the Lord of Hosts, Isa. 3. 1, 2, 3. doth take away from Jerusalem, the mighty man, and the man of War, the Judge, and the Prophet, and the Prudent, and the Ancient, the Captain of fifty, and the honourable man, and the Coun­seller; and all this threatned as the fore-runner of of heavy Judgments; such as the having children Vers. 4, 5 for their Princes, their oppressing one another, Ver. 8. and no less than the ruin of Jerusalem, and the fall of Judah. And the same Prophet, elswhere tells us, That the Righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart, and merciful men are taken away, none considering that they are taken Isa. 57. 1. from the evil to come.

THUS was that good King Josiah dealt with, not long after whose Death, followed the Cap­tivity of Babel. In the Grave wherein he was Interr'd, the Liberty, Glory, and Peace of Jewry, lay also Buried.

I Would not willingly be the Prophet of our Wo, but whatever we may think, or however we may flatter our selves, God never with-draws such great lights out of the World, but at the approach of some Black and Dreadful Tempest; which, if we humble not our selves, under his Mighty hand, and prepare to meet him in the [Page 48] way of his Judgments) will certainly over-take us. And therefore while it is called to day, let us not harden our Hearts, but look to the Things that concerns our Peace. Let us Search and try our ways, and turn again unto the Lord. We cannot think he hath made this great Breach, only, to open a passage to our Sorrow, much less to furnish us with new matter of Discourse: No, He designs that we should glorifie him in our Hearts and Lives, more than formerly we have done; and therefore let it be our Wisdom and our Care, to Hear the rod, and who hath appointed it, to turn every Man from the Evil of his Way, before the Lords Wrath be farther kind­led, and to repent and relent for all our trans­gressions, that so Iniquity may not be our ruin.

Secondly, LET us see how we may lessen this great Loss, at least, so far, as to prevent its being fatal to us. And I conceive, the best course we can take in order to this, is to put a double value upon Him, whom God in his mercy yet spares to us, Our Gracious King; let this Heavy Stroke, render His Life, more dear to us. Let us pray more constantly, and more fervently, for his health, his safety, his happi­ness, and his success. We may be induced strongly to this, upon these Grounds.

First, WE we are to do this, for Her sake that is gone.

Secondly, FOR His own sake.

Thirdly, AND Especially upon the account of our selves.

First, FOR Her sake that's gone, While she lived, she Loved, Honoured and Admired him: She knew His Worth beyond what we do; and besides his many other Accomplishments, which his ve­ry Enemies admire in Him; She knew, that in his greatest undertaking, He had no other Aim, or Interest, than the good of Europe, and espe­cially that part of it which needed most his help, and to which he was in all respects most obliged to give it; Great Britain and Ire­land.

IN a Word, She best knew him, and there­fore justly valued him: And surely if the Saints departed, have any knowledge of what passes here below, we cannot perform a more grateful Service to her Memory, than to value him, to Love, Honour and Admire him too.

Secondly, FOR his own sake. Remember he is a Prince that has got nothing by us, but Trouble, and Care, and Travel, and Toyl, and Danger; A Prince, who when we were in the extreamest danger, upon the Brink of being ruined and undone, staked his Life, [Page 50] his Fortune, his All, to save us; in which At­tempt (considering the Season, and the power­ful Army there was to oppose him, with the other Difficulties, he had to struggle with) the Discouragements were so many: that none but a Courage, great like his, could have en­countred them: And indeed the undertaking was so great, and the means to carry it on, (in Proportion so little) that we need not think it an Hyperbole in him, who concludes, there was a Power more than Humane, in bring­ing it to pass; and the Issue seems to confirm it. Insomuch that France her self, that laught at the Attempt, was yet amaz'd at the Success, and well she might; it being the likeliest step that was ever made towards her Ruine. But to return:

REMEMBER, He is a Prince, who, af­ter many Years Effeminacy, Luxury, Ease, and Softness (wherein the English Valour so famed heretofore.) lay withering and fading, unactive and rusting) hath renewed to us, the Memory of those great Kings who Head­ed English Armies abroad, and hath done more in his own Person, than all the CROWNED Heads of this, or (for ought I know) any other Age. What Prince ever so oft exposed to the Dangers of the Sea, as well as to the [Page 51] Plots of Assassines, and the Arms of the Ene­my by Land? As He has been.

A PRINCE, That as always, so lately, and especially in the Reduction of Ireland, hath made good the Character of His Illustrious Fa­mily, in being the Deliverer of oppressed Na­tions. In a word, A Prince, who hath every way performed his part; how much soever his Affairs hath been clogged at Home, by the unnatural Treachery of some, who like the true Seed of Nero, can rake with delight in the Bowels of their Mother, and betray the Native Interests of their Countrey, to its most inveterate Enemies; not only holding a Cor­respondence with them, but offering up Vows and Prayers for their Success, and discovering a cursed kind of laughter and satisfaction, at the losses, and misfortunes of their own Nation: an Indignity which no Government in the World, deserves less then this, and none upon Earth, would perhaps bear but this; but mercy is a God-like temper; and it would ill become this Place, to offer any thing against it: and I doubt not but Heaven it self will take care to avenge such monstrous Ingratitude▪

I COULD farther shew you, with what Wisdom He unites and keeps together the Con­federates, against the Disturber of the Peace [Page 52] of Christendom, for which, we are (next aster our Deliverance it self) as much beholding to Him, as for any one thing whatsoever. For by this means, the War is kept at a distance, and we live free from all Disturbance; with­out which, what could England hope for, but to be a Field of Blood.

IT had long since been so, had not His Ma­jesty Interposed, we were ready to sheath our swords in one anothers bowels, while a Third Party (under the pretence of Assisting one) was gaping for an opportunity to devour both. Nay it had been so, notwithstanding this Interpo­sition, were not the Enemy kept at a distance, by continuing Flanders the Seat of the War, and (af­ter all our noise) all that's done to support our Allies, is no less than necessary to support our selves; It's to find the Enemy work, on that side, that we may live in quiet at home; No com­mon Blessing, if we consider what our Neighbours both in Flanders and Germany, and elsewhere, suffer by the scourge of War. And notwith­standing the malicious and unreasonable sug­gestions of some, who cry out (tho' with no o­ther design than to foment our Animosities and Divisions) that we are at the vast Expence of a needless War, to maintain the Dominions of a Foreign Prince: Yet all men of sense know, [Page 53] that the preservation of Flanders is as much, nay more, for the Interest of England, than of Spain; If that should once fall a Victim to France, we need not sure, be told at this time of day, what would soon follow.

AND therefore, since we have no other Choice then to fight for Flanders, or for England, in Flanders, or in England; there's none but men besides themselves, or otherwise notoriously Byast, that would chuse the later.

BUT I need insist no longer upon this. It's but too plain, we ought to value and admire Him for his own sake; let us now see what obligations lie upon us, to do it for our Own.

AND▪ what can in this Case, be less expected from a Grateful and a Brave People, to so Gene­rous; so Deserving a Prince? But that we contri­bute our endeavours, that we may neither be wanting to our selves, nor in Duty, and Affection, to Him, but that we share in His dangers, and promote His Designs, and do all, that in every one of us lies, to keep Him in a Capacity, of meeting His Enemies with equal Numbers; whom they dare never attack but with unrea­sonable odds.

THIS Indeed, is but what we owe to our selves, to our Countrey, our Families, our Po­sterity, [Page 54] and beyond all, to our Religion; for all these are at Stake, and they are (let some pretend what they will) the very things we contend for in the present War with France; which is endeavouring to get not only our Houses, but the Houses of God into their possessi­on; and how they will use both them and us, they have given us more than a Specimen by what they have done at home, in their own Countrey: Where within these few Years, there were more than a Thousand places of Gods pub­lick Worship, where some Hundred Thousands of Protestants served God Religiously and Truly; and yet the French, at least the Popish Fury, hath turn'd all those Churches into ruinous Heaps, and treated the poor Owners of them (tho' their Countrey-men, their Neighbours, their Friends and Relations) with more Scorn and Contempt, more Barbarity and Cruelty, than has been heard among Turks and Infidels. So that it's every Mans Interest, to ingage in this quarrel; and were it not only so, yet a due sense of Honour might excite all Persons of Character and Reputation, to follow the Example of their KING, who hath so often exposed himself for us, and who is still ready to sacrifice his Life for our safety.

I AM sure, there's no man can tell me, what it was for (almost this Age past) we desired more than such a King; what it was we long'd for more, than a Prince without any private designs, and beyond all suspicion, Firm, in the Na­tions Interest and Quarrel against France; this ve­ry qualification had atton'd for all other failings, and the want of it (for ought I know) hath been, in a great Measure, the source of all our Miscar­riages; and not only Mischievous to us, but Fatal to all Europe. And now that, that God, who brings Good out of Evil; hath as it were, Mer­cifully compli'd with our desires, and blest us with a Prince, who (besides His other endow­ments) is of all other the best qualified this way. A Prince whom that Monarch always fear'd, and has now more reason to fear than ever. Shall we not lay hold of the opportunity, and push on the present War, with the utmost Vigor.

BELIEVE it, to talk or think of restoring the late King, without a French Army (as some of our Disaffected Scriblers would seem to im­pose upon us) or to think that such an Army, if they could restore Him, would then only take their leave and be gone (as others of them would perswade us) is a Vanity, a Madness, that may require our Pity, but seems to be past our Cure. And therefore, to Cabal or Plot, or Cen­sure [Page 56] or Murmur, or if we arrive not to this height of Undutifulness and Folly, but only remain un­concern'd, or stand only Gazeing and looking on, as if it were no great matter how the War succeeded; must needs be, because we will not exercise so much Fore-thought, as to consider the Dreadful Consequences of miscarrying in it.

ALL wise Men will tell you, we had better be subdued by any Nation under Heaven than the French, for besides, that no other, considering our Situation (as one hath lately observ'd) hath Naval Forces enough to secure such a Conquest; so no other would insult and inslave us at the rate they would. If the Turk should subdue us, he would (saith the same Author) miserably Tyrannize, but yet for a small Yearly Tribute, he would allow us the exercise of our Religion. If other Nations, either their Distance would slack­en our Bonds, or their weakness, would press us more lightly: But France is our next Neighbour, very powerful by Sea and Land, able to load us with heavy Chains, and to rivet them up­on us: Besides, she has found us capable of being a Rival to her Glory, and we know, who it is, at this minute, that stops her Conquests, who gives Check, to all her aspiring Designs: Nay she has felt the Power of our Arms in her [Page 57] Bowels, and has been This Conquest was undertaken upon just grounds, Edward II. King of England▪ having Mar­ried Isabella Daughter to Philip the Fair of France, whose three Sons dying without Issue, the Crown descended to the Heirs of Isabella; and then it was, when Edw. III. in right of his Mother claimed the Kingdom of France, that they made their Salique Law, which could however, bar only for the fu­ture, and not for the time past; and therefore the King invaded France, and was very successful in all the Battels he fought, but by reason of several diversions at home, this Success was not pursued by his immediate Successors; yet Hen. V. coming to the Crown (A Prince of a Warlike temper) and considering, that, not only Normandy, Guien, Aqui­tain, and Anjou, were the rightful Inheritances of the Kings of England, but also his just Title to the Whole Kingdom, derived from Isabella aforesaid; after he had first by Ambassadors set forth, and de­manded his Right, he with an English Army in­vades France, and after he had won several Battles, was at last Married to Katharine, Daughter of Charles VI. And thereupon Declared and Crown­ed King of France in Reversion: Charles and Isabel his Queen to Reign during their Lives, and Isabel surviving Charles, at her death, made a Will, de­claring her Son in Law, Henry V. Heir to all her Goods, and to the Crown▪ which gives the Kings of England a farther Right to the Kingdom of France: And I am perswaded if the French King had half so much right to England, as the King of England hath to France, we should be pestered with his Manifesto's and Scribles, alledging his just Pretensions; as he calls all, that he makes. Conquered by us, and has had such proofs of the English Valour, that she would be sure to take care never more▪ to stand in fear of her Antient Ene­mies: And upon these grounds we are to ex­pect no Mercy at her Hands, but the worst of an Hostile Fury; and nothing perhaps, less than our total Sub­version, would serve their turn. Nay, when we consider, how bar­barbarously they use the People whom they Subdue, tho' of their own Religion, without regard to Churches or Religious Houses, or the very Sepulchers of the Dead, tho' Princes themselves; we may believe, our English Papists (however they may flatter themselves) would meet with no better Quar­ter than others: But for those Protestants, who, tho' at ease in their Fortunes, and injoying all [Page 58] the Priviledges of their Fellow Subjects, are yet Restless and Dissatisfied, and Weary of a Go­vernment, that's the only Security of their Re­ligion and Estates; Surely, as they will be the easiest, so they will be the most despised Prey of their Enemy, who (if they have any Man▪hood, or any thing that's great in them; will shew more Favour to the brave Defenders of their Countrey, than to those, who have so basely, and trea­cherously deserted and betrayed it.

BUT I know, if I should Discourse at this rate, out of this place, or where I might expect an answer, I should presently be told; that I had used a great many words to little purpose, and had run on all along upon a false ground, for that the Great King of France, hath nothing of Self, in all this, nor is he farther concern­ed, then out of a Principle of Honour and Ge­nerosity to Espouse an Oppressed, and to restore, an Exil'd Prince, That he was neither opprest, nor banished, is plain enough: And on whose side the Oppression lay, we all know; and yet we will allow them, that, that Monarch, may seemingly with much Gallantry, Espouse His Cause till he see a fair opportunity of setting up his Own: but, to be sure, no longer. Or sup­pose he should not do this: can we however think, that he would not demand so great [Page 59] a Charge, as that the whole Wealth of the Nation would be too little to answer? and were it not better Policy in us (tho we had no other induce­ment) to supply Him, even to a Moiety of what we have; who will preserve the rest, by keep­ing such Enemies out, and by cherishing and protecting us in our Religion, and other Rights.

To be sparing in a case of such Necessity, is to be Wanting, and indeed Cruel, to our selves, and our Posterity: like the fatal Parsimony of the People of Constantinople, who refused to supply their own Emperour (tho' by way of Loan) with a thirti­eth part of that Money, which the Turkish Empe­rour deprived them of, together with the lives of the wealthiest of them. Whereas, by that sea­sonable Supply, they might in all likelihood; have preserved their City and their Lives too.

'TWERE easie to shew, what a poor thing Money is, in respect of our Religion, our Lives, our Laws, and our Liberties; and it's not yet Seven Years, since all considerate Men and good Protestants amongst us, would have given more than this War will cost us, to have been under the Circumstances we now are: But (God be thanked) there's no need to insist upon this. Those worthy Patriots who so freely and cheer­fully find out Ways and Means to support the War, are highly sensible of it. And all I have to [Page 60] offer upon their accounts, is; to pray as David, when the People even beyond what he expected, offer'd so willingly towards a Publick Good. O 1 Chron. 29. 18. Lord God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Israel our Fathers, keep this for ever, in the imagination of the thoughts of the heart of thy people. But to return, That I may leave nothing unsaid, to open the Eyes of those who are not wilfully Blind; I will for their satisfaction, suppose; that this extravagantly ambitious King (upon whom they so much depend) had no private design, but would only cleer the Way to the Throne, and then fairly draw off, without any other Consideration than the satisfaction of his own Haughty and Ambitious Humour: Let us I say suppose this (tho' indeed it's next to impossi­ble) yet even in this Case; Might not the Prince whom he left repossest (I only pre­sume to ask the Question) justly write himself; James the Conquerour? And tho' I am not to determine, how mercifuly he might use us, if left to his own Conduct (tho' we must believe him more than a Saint to forget, what is past) yet, considering how he has been influenced; and (considering his Principles) how he still must be: (if ever Divine Judgment) as a pu­nishment for our Sins, should suffer this to come to pass; The very thoughts of what [Page 61] we might expect, are so full of Horror, that I chuse rather to draw a Vail over it, and pass it in silence, than go about to display it; and if any Man be so Weak, or so Short sighted, as to wish or desire it, I am perswaded, that a short change with a Subject of France, would very effectually Cure him of his Ma­lady and Folly too.

And yet Our Case might be, much more de­sperate than some of Theirs, and no better, to be sure, than that of the Protestant Sub­jects under that Crown; and how it should be worse, is not easie to imagine. And now,

SINCE, those very Men amongst us, who seem most fond of the late Kings return, do yet pretend, they would by no means have Him come with a French Power; as being aware of the dreadful Consequences thereof. Since it is not possible he should come by any other, or any other way. The a­bused Affections, of his Quondam Subjects (except a few not worth the naming) be­ing now settled upon a Prince, who has gain­ed them with the Hazard of His Life. A Prince, that is not only flesh, of our flesh; and bone, of our bone; and so our Natural Liege Lord; but of our Religion also, and therefore the dearer to us, as we are the safer; this being so, it is not possible they should think of recalling a Prince [Page 62] under whose Administration, they suffered so much, and whose incensed wrath, would not be easily appeased; and whose thirst, for Ʋnli­mited Power, He would be sure to quench at our Cost; and therefore must come by a French Power, or not at all.

SINCE, Such a Power, if they could set him on English ground (which I much questi­on) would either, in his Name, and under his Ʋmbrage, do all for Themselves: or at their go­ing off, demand such vast Sums, as we could never pay; and yet for not paying, would be exposed to all the Miseries, that Scorn or Cruelty could invent.

Since, After they had done this (or suppose they should not do it) They would at, best, leave us in the hands of a Conqueror, all Incensed, full of VVrath and Revenge; who used us not over well, when He had no pretence to that Title: but would now be sure (without usurping a Dispensing Power) make his Will our Law, and impose whatever his Ambition, his Wrath, or a Jesuiti­cal Cruelty could inflict.

SINCE, Our Religion (with which nothing should come in Competition) is secured to us, and our posterity, being wrapt up and safe, not only in His Majesty (whom God long pre­serve) But in those Illustrious Heirs of the Crown, Her Royal Highness, and Her Royal Son; in whom we may one day be happy.

SINCE, Our Laws are once more Sacred, our Priviledges Allowed, our Rights, and Li­berties Cherished. And Since we are Blessed with a King by whose Prowess, and Conduct, by whose Justice, and Goodness, we may (if not wanting to our selves) be as Great, as Happy, and as Dreadful, as Ever.

SINCE, This, I say, is so, it is not possible (unless we be in love with Chains) and fond to see our Religion truckle to Popery, our Li­berty to Slavery, our Rights and Priviledges, to Courtesie: unless we desire to see our Lives exposed, and our Estates, offered as an Obla­tion to a superstious, greedy Church; or as a re­ward, to the Soldier that shall destroy us: un­less, I say, we are fond of these things, it is not possible we should desire, or ever long for such an Administration, as will certainly produce them.

IF therefore, we have any Natural Love for our Countrey, or any Supernatural Affection, for our Religion, or any Natural Instinct of Self Preservation, or any Sense of Honour, in Acting suitably to such Principles; If a Royal Example, can incite us, or our own Welfare and Safety incourage us; Let us in the Name of God, as we Value any, or all of these Dear Things, in all Due Thankfulness to the Authour, and in all Loyal Duty, and Affection, to the Instru­ment [Page 64] of our Deliverance; turn from our Sins, and Ʋnite and Strengthen our Selves, against the Common Enemy, of our Religion, and Civil Rights, as the only way, to have our Peace, and Happiness, Restored and Settled, upon sure and lasting Foundations.

AND this I conceive, is the best course we can take, to lessen this Great Loss; so, as it may not prove fatal to us: To Stand by our King, with our Lives and Fortunes: To Pray con­stantly, and to Pray fervently, that God would Protect Him, from the private Machinations, and open Violence of His Enemies; that He would preserve Him, to perfect that Great, that Glorious Work, He hath so Generously, and so Successfully Begun, that so we may enjoy Him, in Peace, and esteem Him, as the Israelites did David, the light of our Israel; and as they did2 Sam. 21. Josiah, the breath of our Nostrils. The serious ac­knowledgmentLam. 4. 20. whereof, will not suffer us to be wanting in all Duty and Affection to Him, whom God continue long over us; and let all that Love the Peace and Happiness, the Well­fare and Glory, of Great Britain, and Ireland, say, Amen, Amen.

Now to God onely Wise, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, be ascribed, as is Most Due, All Glory, Honour, Power, Praise, Might, Majesty, and Domi­nion, Now and for Ever, Amen.

FINIS.

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