Dr. ABBADIE's PANEGYRIC On the QUEEN.   

A PANEGYRIC On our late Sovereign Lady MARY QUEEN of ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, FRANCE, and IRELAND, Of Glorious and Immortal MEMORY.  
Who Died at Kensington, on the 28th. of December, 1694.  
By JAMES ABBADIE, D. D. Minister of the Savoy.  
LONDON, Printed for Hugh Newman, at the Grasshopper in the Poultry, MDCXCV.   

A PANEGYRIC On our late Sovereign Lady MARY QUEEN of ENGLAND, etc.  
IN vain the grateful World strives to eternize the Memory of Heroes, in vain their Names and Titles are entrusted to Marble and Brass, which Time will quickly deface, in vain are all the artful Endeavours of Painters and Sculptors to give them a shadow of Life in spite of Death, by a lasting Representation of that which is no more, if we do not labour to revive the Spirit that animated them, and to immortalize their Glory by a careful imitation of their Actions.  
Such an Elegy as this is only worthy of MARY, a Princess in whom all the Virtues were united, and yet seemed to contend, which should most embellish their lovely Habitation; a Queen the Examplar of Her Subjects; a Heroine the Model of Queens; elevated above Her Rank by Her Virtues, and even, in some measure raised above Her Virtues by Her Modesty, which could not bear Praise, and would not suffer us to do justice, but in secret, during Her Life, to that Merit which has been celebrated, in so glorious a manner, by the Public Grief after her Death.  
The Sorrow of England; the Lamentations of the State; the Tears of the Church; the early Acknowledgements of that August Senate, which, by regulating the Affairs of one Nation, governs the Fate of all others; the King's sinking under a load of Grief, the weakness of that Hero, on this occasion, whose Courage was never before shocked by Dangers or Misfortunes; the silence of Envy; and the United Groans of so many Nations, who resent this Loss as an Universal Blow to Mankind, praise Her aloud, and leave so much the less to be said by me, that, in making the Elegy either of Her Immortal Virtues, or of the unexampled Wonders of Her Life, I cannot preserve the likeness of Truth without lessening the Truth itself.  
I shall say nothing of Her Glorious Ancestors, but that the Lustre which She reflected back upon them was greater than that She received from them; and that She honoured Her Birth more than that honoured Her. And it must be acknowledged, that never any Woman could with so much Justice be called the Ornament of Her Nation, and Glory of Her Sex.  
I will neither imitate the Malice of some, who despise, nor the flattering complaisance of others, who magnify a Sex which Nature has made little different from ours; tho' Education does commonly make a distinction between them, that is wholly to the advantage of the latter. Yet I cannot but observe, that the Greatness of the Obstacles that bar the Ascent to the most Shining Glory, serves only to heighten the Honour of the Person that surmounts them; and that as there is nothing more rare than to find the Character of a Hero in a Woman, so there is nothing that more imperiously commands our Admiration.  
History, that preserves the Memory of so many famous Names, has transmitted to us but a very small number of Illustrious Women, who deserved to be mentioned with particular Marks of Honour. Yet every Nation boasts of some; and it may be said that the Spirits of all those Heroines were combined together to animate our Queen, and that England has engrossed the Glories of all other Nations.  
She was Mistress of all the Sublime Characters that enter the Composition of an extraordinary Person. Her Beauty, which might have been the brightest Ornament of another, was always reckoned the meanest of Her Endowments. And even the perfections of Her Judgement which was naturally steady, solid, and piercing, besides those Excellent Improvements with which She took care to enrich it, in conjunction with all the Charms of Her Person, were but the least part of that Merit for which the World admired Her.  
Never was so much Greatness and Majesty accompanied with so much Modesty and Sweetness. Never could so easy and natural a Carriage command so much respect, and so admirably well become the sublimest Dignity. How low soever She might condescend to stoop, and endeavour to conceal the Heroine under the disguise of an ordinary Woman, that commanding Air, which was spread over all Her Person, that Mien, and Natural Majesty, which She could not hide, discovered Her Greatness, and betrayed Her Humility.  
Her Soul was inseparably united to that of Her August Husband. She considered His Glory as Her own dearest Interest. She studied His Sentiments, to follow them, and His Actions, to imitate them; and set His Will before Her, as the Rule of Her Life.  
Her Love and Admiration of Him made Her Submission delightful to her. When She enjoyed His Presence, She examined His Eyes to know whether She should rejoice or grieve. When He left Her, She was not sensible of any Trouble, but what was caused by Her separation from Him, She feared nothing but to lose Him, and Her only Care was to execute His Orders, and, during the Absence of His Person, to preserve at least His Will upon the Throne. She breathed not but for Him, and seemed not to live but in Him.  
She was not capable of the least Weakness. Never Wife loved Her Husband more tenderly; and never Princess bore Misfortunes with greater constancy.  
Her Courage raised Her above had success, and Her Modesty set Her above happy Events. Prosperity and Adversity were equally unable either to puff Her up, or to cast Her down. She was above them both; and it will for ever remain an undecided controversy whether She bore with more Temper the Smiles, or the Frowns of Fortune.  
She had at once the highest and most regular Merit that ever was She joined the Courage and Strength that are peculiar to our Sex, with all the Virtues and Graces of Her own. Heaven seemed to have endowed Her with the Perfections of both Sexes, to instruct them both in their several Duties, or to correct their Vices by the Opposition of so many Virtues; as if it designed to propose one Person for the Standard and Censure of all the rest of the World.  
She was equally admirable, when in Her Council She vied with the ablest Statesmen; and when after the King's return, She retired to the Innocent Pleasure of Working with Her Women. She was Wise and Courageous in Her Government, Humble and Modest in Her Retirement. Her Virtue set before us, in Her Illustrious Life, a continual Revolution of Advancement and Humiliation, more wonderful than the most stupendous Turns of Fortune.  
She dreaded the return of the Season that obliged Her to assume the Government, and, besides the Glory of the State, made Her Mistress of the Fate of the People. She would never have desired to draw upon Herself the Eyes of all the Universe, if She could have still enjoyed him whom She loved: and gave us a yearly and memorable Instance that Authority may be received with Tears, and laid aside with Raptures of Joy.  
Yet it would have seemed that Authority had been Natural to Her, so well She knew how to use it. She was capable of the greatest, and exact in the smallest things. She acquired the Art of managing the Business of State by an unwearyed Application, She had the dexterity to extend Her Empire over the Minds of Her People, and reigned in their Hearts by Her Clemency. She commanded in such a manner as to make Obedience a Pleasure; and She obeyed in Her turn, as if She had never commanded.  
She was always ready to yield to Reason and Truth: but would never be persuaded to bestow on Recommendations the Reward of Merit and Virtue.  
She was prepared for all Events by Her Resolution, and She provided for them all by Her Wisdom. She enjoyed an undisturbed serenity of Mind in the midst of Troubles and Dangers; She was secret in Her Designs, steady in Her Maxims, and of an invincible Constancy under Difficulties. And it may be said without Flattery that She reigned without a Fault, as Her Life was without a Blemish.  
It seemed that the King, by entrusting her with the Administration of Affairs, inspired her with all his Wisdom; and that the Queen, for the Heart she gave him, had in exchange received his Judgement.  
'Tis not impossible for a common Person to live without Reproach, but we find no faultless Heroes. And even the Greatest Virtues seem to be usually accompanied with the greatest Imperfections; as if that which raises us above ourselves, was apt to disorder our Souls, by putting them out of their Natural Posture. But here we find an Eminent Merit, without the least Fault or Weakness, in an admirable Person, who was as free from blame, as if she had been saved from it by the Meanness of her Condition. The Greatness of her Fortune might have exposed her to all the Shafts of Malice, if her Virtues had not imposed Silence on Malice itself: And even her Virtues might have exposed her to Envy, if they had been mixed with any Faults. But who could blame such a complete Merit, such high Perfection, and such Spotless Glory, without renouncing his Judgement, and exposing his Reputation.  
But after all it must be acknowledged, that it was neither the Dignity of her Rank, nor the Lustre of her Heroical Perfections, that rendered her Condition worthy of Envy. All that which made the World admire her could not have hindered her from being an Object of Compassion in her own Eyes.  
Heroes are mortal, as well as other men; and neither all their Glory nor our Tears can preserve them from that fatal Necessity. We are charmed with that which is no more to us than a bare Idea of Perfection: We begin late to admire a Virtue that has ceased to appear, and complain in vain of the cruelty of Death that has robbed us of our dear Protectors. They have taken an eternal Leave of us: Their Great Names serve only to adorn their Epitaphs, and embellish their Tombs, and those Virtues which the World admired, are like the Funeral Torches that signalise the Pomp of their Obsequies whose Splendour serves only to increase our Affliction.  
And who was better acquainted with these Truths than the Queen? She made the Meditation of Death a continual Support to her Virtue: She loved to discourse on that Subject with others, and to entertain herself with the Thoughts of it. Thus, forsaking Vanity long before she was forsaken by it▪ and banishing the World out of her Mind, even whilst she lived in the midst of it, She prevented, by a voluntary Separation from it, that forced Exile to which all Mankind is condemned; and it may be said, that in this Respect, her Humility had left little or no Work for Death.  
How rare is that Virtue, and how becoming a Companion to Greatness! Humility is most advantageously placed in the Heart of a Sovereign, for there it makes great Restitutions to God; there it opposes the Flattery of the People, who are wont to idolise Grandeur, and teaches the Prince to despise himself in the midst of that Crowd of flattering Admirers, who adore his Faults, and prostrate themselves before his Fortune.  
But how much more admirable is that Virtue in those Great Souls, who are more truly elevated above Kings by their Virtue, than Kings are raised above other men by their Rank and Dignity! 'Tis a shame to be Proud when such excellent Persons as these are Humble. 'Tis an Honour to renounce vainglory, when the most eminent Heroes are eminent also for their Humility.  
That was the Character of our Queen; Her Life, her Conversation and her Carriage were but one continued expression of that Virtue. Her Palace was a Temple of Modesty, so diligent She was to free it from Vanity and Luxury. She decked herself with her own Virtues, and neglected the Ornaments of Dressing; She appeared rather Neat than Magnificent in her Train and Furniture. She was an exact Observer of the Rules of Decency, without injuring her Humility; and bestowed no more on the Pomp of a Court, than what the Dignity of her Rank did absolutely require. And yet she seemed to grudge her own necessary Expenses, as if she had stolen them from the Funds of her Charity.  
Never any hid their Faults with more care than she took to conceal her Virtues. This is the only Fault that she could ever be accused of. Wonders are made to be seen, and to make a strong Impression upon us; and how many Wonders did she hinder us from seeing, by hiding from us the Noblest parts of so beautiful a Life.  
She loved to edify, but not to be admired, as if she could have purchased Humility at the rate of her Glory. She condemned Thankfulness to silence, and made this seeming Ingratitude the Condition of her Favours.  
With one Hand she dried the Tears of the Afflicted, and with the other drew a Veil over their Misery. She was no less charitable in her way of relieving them, than in the Relief she gave them. With equal care she sought Occasions to exercise her Virtue, and avoided every Temptation to vain Glory. She always concealed the Good that she did, and has been seen to weep for that which she could not do.  
But in vain she imposed a silence, which sooner or later would certainly be broken. The whole Universe that was a Witness of her Virtues, the World that is filled with her Charity, which she scattered through all Nations, and all Climates, such an infinite number of Persons that felt the comfortable Influences of her Bounty, cry so much the louder after her Death, as they were forced to be silent during her Life. Imprisoned Gratitude shakes off its Fetters and breaks out impetuously. We send forth our Complaints and Lamentations, the expressions of our Grief and her Glory, because we are not able to retain them longer; and though that bright Soul could, from the Heavens whither she is ascended, renew those Orders which her Modesty imposed on Earth, Sorrow and Gratitude would not suffer us to obey them.  
Death, which puts a period to the Glory of others, seems only to begin hers. How vast is the difference between her and the nameless Great, those vulgar Princes, who cease to be known assoon as they cease to live! Her Works came out of the Grave, when she entered into it: Her Life hid her from us; and her Death exposes her in all her Glory to our ravished Eyes.  
Why cannot we do as much honour to her Memory, as she was always ready to do to Merit and Virtue? What do I say? She made it her Pleasure to consider all sorts of Persons; none were despicable in her sight. She never spoke ill of any person, nor ever suffered any person to be ill spoken of in her presence. She esteemed the Reputations of all mankind sacred; and if ever the Serenity of her Mind, was disturbed by any motion of anger, to which she was almost always a Stranger, it was when any one had the confidence to speak ill of her Enemies in her presence.  
She was so incredulous of the faults of others, as if humane Nature had been faultless; and so universally indulgent, as if all mankind had belonged to her. What a noble Example has she set before Sovereigns, who being the common Parents of their People, are concerned in the Reputation of all sorts of persons, and ought no more to encourage Railing against their Subjects, than they would against their own Children.  
The Persons are usually despised, whose Praises and Flatteries are esteemed; which is an Effect of Pride. But MARY despised Praise, and had an universal Charity for all sorts of persons. This was the peculiar character of her Virtue.  
Her Condescension and Bounty kept pace with the Advancement of her Fortune, as if she had intended to comfort others, and make amends for her surpassing them in Quality and Virtues. She was easy of access to the unhappy, she despised no Complaint, and rejected no Request. Her generous and magnanimous Temper would not suffer her to overcome Hatred and Envy, any other way than by Kindness and good Offices. She exceeded all other Women in Frugality, but she was frugal only that she might be charitable; and she was even more Charitable than Frugal, reducing herself often to Poverty by her profuse Beneficency.  
This is not an Idea of imaginary perfection. It has been observed, that after she had consumed the regulated Fund of her Charity in extraordinary Bounties, she distributed that which was appointed for her own necessary Charges, to supply the Wants of the Poor. And she felt a pleasure in this virtuous Poverty, which they whose minds are addicted to the World, shall never find in all their proud Abundance, and cruel Superfluities.  
'Tis certain that Self-love and Interest gained no ground in her Heart by her Advancement. Her Greatness was for the benefit of others, rather than for her own good. She rejected the Pomp of it by her Humility; and of all that Plenty of which she was Mistress, she reserved nothing to herself, but the pleasure of giving it away.  
But what do I say? She was also obliged to her Dignity for a thousand occasions to display her Clemency, at a time when Severity might have seemed not only pardonable, but necessary, to a Heart less heroical than hers.  
Princes that regard their Safety more than their Honour, content themselves with being praised for their rigorous Justice, by which they serve the Interests of their own Preservation. But Souls of the first form are not satisfied with the Empire that ●ear gives them over others, but rather choose to maintain their Authority by inspiring their Subjects with a Veneration for their Virtues. They judge with reason, that 'tis nobler (when possible) to preserve the public Peace by Mercy, than by Justice; that 'tis more honourable to conquer Hearts, than to subdue Persons; and that the State is doubly saved, when the inclinations of its Enemies are disarmed, and they become its Friends and Servants.  
Clemency is a Virtue that deserves to be more highly esteemed, for the greatness of the Dangers to which it exposes its Owners. 'Tis even more generous than Charity: for the charitable man only gives away his Riches; but he that is merciful hazards his very Life. 'Tis braver than Valour itself, for it exposes itself to secret Foes, which are more dangerous than those open Enemies whom Courage opposes. And 'tis greater than Moderation, which finds its own security in forgetting private injuries, whereas Clemency neglects the care of its own Preservation by pardoning the Enemies of the Public.  
If Mercy had been to appear in a humane Form, it would have certainly borrowed that of the Queen. It was sufficient to be unhappy to be esteemed innocent by her: She imitated God, who exhorts Sinners to accept his Favours, and adds Benefits to the Pardon that he gives them, with a design to make them better; she forced her greatest Enemies to be capable of Gratitude. Her Clemency, by an admirable Privilege, produced all the effects of Severity; It delivered her every day from some new Enemy, or crushed some brooding Conspiracy. The benefits that she bestowed were Spies to discover the Plots of her Enemies, and Guards to secure her against them; and the Pardons which she granted so often, and in so obliging a manner to those that had conspired against her Life, furnished her with means to acquire new Glory, and additional securities in every Attempt of her Enemies.  
Blasphemy was the only crime that she would never forgive. She was still struck with horror at the hearing of an impious Expression: Yet she would not suffer her Indignation to transport her, or make her forget that Calmness with which she administered Justice, by depriving instantly of all Offices, and banishing from her presence, those that had dared to brave the Majesty of that God, whom she served with so much Fear▪ By which she clearly showed, that it was not she that reigned, but God that reigned by her.  
Let the World admire, as much as it pleases, those humane Virtues, which, under great Names and venerable Outsides, hide our most real imperfections, or rather those sacrilegious Virtues which rob God of our best Actions to ascribe them to ourselves, and are in some respect more criminal than the grossest Vices, as being more injurious to God. Piety alone deserves the name of Virtue, because it seeks God in all things, and refers all things to his Glory. And Piety was the great business of the Queen's Life.  
Her public and private Devotions, from which no Trouble of State, nor Danger that threatened her person could ever once divert her; that Commerce of Piety which she held with God, and the Commerce of Charity between her and her Brethren; her Meditations and Reading of pious Books employed all her Mornings, and consecrated to God the half of her Life, those first Hours of the Day, which she sometimes stole from her ordinary rest, and took from Nature to bestow them on Grace, which made a far better use of them. Her Devotions were succeeded by her Charity, her Contemplations by Practice, and her Prayers by good Works; so that she had no time left from these Holy Occupations that was not devoted to God, nor almost a Thought that did not ascend up to Heaven. While she sustained the Load of an infinite number of Affairs and Persons that depended on her, she still found leisure to serve God without distraction; and in the midst of so many different Occupations she established, in her well-ordered Life, a Lasting Worship, and a perpetual and uninterrupted Course of Religion.  
Her days began, as the Days of Glory shall begin, with the Adoration of her Creator; and ended like the Life of man, with Meditations on the Vanity of the World. Casting her Eyes sometimes on those things which perish, to wean her Love and Inclinations from them, and sometimes on that which perisheth not, to make it the Object of all her Hopes and Affections; she lived like one that knew she should shortly die; her Christian Prudence producing the same effect in her, that might have been expected from a distinct Revelation of her End, and of the Measure of her Days.  
Her Piety was Universal; she practised all the Virtues, because she knew they were all acceptable to God. It had been impossible to determine which of all the Duties of Morality she observed most carefully, and it might have been doubted which of her Virtues had the advantage over the rest; if it had not been known that they were all happily united and blended together in her Piety.  
Such was the Foundation of her Virtue, which in other respects, was so variously diversified, and still found new occasions to make itself be esteemed, by that happy mixture of Elevation and Humility, Firmness and Mercy, Courage and Charity, Prudence and a holy Resignation to the Providence of God, Sweetness and Resolution, that produced an Effect on the Minds of those who heedfully considered her, not unlike to that Impression which the Flowers of a beautiful Garden, or the Stars of Heaven, by their Variety and Order, make on the Eyes of an attentive Beholder.  
The Merit of our Illustrious MARY was Great; but it was not greater than her Destiny. She stood in need of no less Virtue and Perfection to fulfil the Design of God and the Expectations of Men; being called by Providence to edify a vicious World, to comfort the drooping Church, and to save her sinking Country.  
Men may celebrate the Virtues of Great Princes, but God himself endites the Praises of Great Deliverers. He calls Cyrus his Anointed, He proclaims him, He promises him to the World a hundred years before he came inro it; not because he was to be the Conqueror of Asia, but because he was designed to be the Restorer of the Jewish Liberties. Yet how much more glorious had he been, if at the same time that he freed them from Slavery, he had also delivered them from Superstition? And though God does not think sit to speak to us by the Mouth of a Prophet, does he not declare his Mind sufficiently by the Voice of his Providence?  
We have not yet forgot those sad times, when the State was divided into two Parties, one of which endeavoured to destroy it by introducing Error, and the other to preserve it by defending the Truth: When England, like a disconsolate Rebecca, felt two Children, an Esau and a Jacob, struggling and contending together with a Secret, but implacable Animosity, in her wretehed Bowels, without being able to foresee the Success of those Intestine Broils that threatened to rend her Entrails to pieces?  
Superstition, that active and subtle Mistress; inspired her Followers with a Zeal that prompted them to carry on their designs, without losing a minute, even during the life of the late King. Never were Projects better contrived, never Intrigues deeper laid or more cunningly managed, and never was there more promising Hopes than those of that Party. In what a sad condition had we been, if God had delivered us up to that Violence, and to that so well known and often experienced Cruelty, which is so much the more dangerous as acting under a Sacred Disguise, and usurping the Name of Religion? Who would not have thought, that England was just ready to be made a Prey to remediless Disorders, and to be turned to a bloody Theatre of endless Divisions, Revenge, and horrible Massacres?  
But these Mischiefs could not be effected without gaining a Princess, on whom, as being the presumptive Heiress of the Crown, they foresaw that the Fate of the State would in time depend. And it was on this occasion, that God exalted the strength of his Arm above all the power of men.  
This wonderful Princess seemed, even almost assoon as she was born, to know what she was called to by the Providence of God; so firm and well grounded she appeared in her heavenly Vocation. And even at that time she was so fixed in her Religion, so constant to her Duty, and so unmoveable under all Tentations, and in all other respects of so sweet a temper, so wise, moderate and resigned, that it may be said, that she had already all those Perf●ctions, that we could have wished to see her afterwards adorned with, and that the most illustrious Lives had scarce any advantage over the Beginning of Hers, or could exceed the glory of so heroical an Infancy.  
It was at the same time that there arose a Difference worthy of eternal Memory. The State demanded our Princess as its Sure Refuge, and the Source of all its Comforts; and Superstition courted her for a Support and Foundation of its Hopes. They contended for her Education with an eagerness that produced a contest, the success of which was expected with a concern that held the World in suspense, that filled the Reformed part of it with Fears, and Great Britain, particularly, with Anxiety and Disquiet.  
But, in vain had both Church and State interposed in the Quarrel between Religion and Superstition, in vain had been all the Care and Courage of our Magnanimous Prelates, and in vain had the Parliament, that Council empower▪ d both by the Crown and by the Nation, that Sage and (by the Regal Authority) Legislative Assembly, that perpetual Guardian of the Rights and Privileges of the Kingdom, that honourable and respected Mouth of the People, Interpreter both of its Wants and of its Will, in vain, I say, had the Parliament itself resolved to determine the difference brought before its August Tribunal, if Grace had not already decided the Controversy in the Heart of that young Princess.  
She believed that she owed herself to God and to the State; and that she could not answer the Call of Heaven, but by devoting herself entirely to her Country and her Religion. Being only willing to live, and ready to die for them both; it may be said that from that very time she accepted the Crown, and Death together; being prepared to receive either Fortune for so precious and sacred an Interest.  
In vain to tempt the Piety of that Heroical Soul, they propose a Match to her, able, as they think, to shake constancy itself; In vain they speak of uniting her to a Prince, who, besides the amiable qualifications of his Person, could boast the Expectation of a Throne, and the Hopes of one of the most glorious Successions of the Universe, but whose Alliance is equally opposite to the Interest of England, and to the Conscience of that Princess. She hears the Proposal with Horror, and rejects it with Indignation, and with a Resolution that could not be conquer▪ d.  
Thus, for her Country's sake, she despises a Dignity, which the Interest of that Nation alone shall one day make her accept; and even then she showed herself uncapable of receiving a Sceptre but for the same Reasons, for which she had already refused one. Happy had she been, if she had not found the Sacrifice of her natural Affections, which she was afterwards obliged to offer up to God, a harder Task than the Sacrifice of her Ambition which she offered then; and if the Crown that she accepted had not more sensibly afflicted her than that which she rejected.  
Thus, with an unshaken Constancy, she reserved herself for that important and necessary Marriage, to which the Church and the State, the Parliament and Council, and God and the King had appointed her.  
Never was the public Joy better grounded, than on this occasion; and never any Festival was more worthy to be solemnised than this. For, than it was that Providence laid the Foundations of the Public Liberty: And to this happy Marriage we owe the succeeding Union of England and Holland, and the general Confederacy of their Allies.  
When the Prince went to England, accompanied with the Prayers and Acclamations of the whole World that was concerned in the Success of his Voyage, he seemed to ask the Princess in the name of all those Nations that were one day to owe their liberty to this Blessed Match. And (if I might be allowed to join the present Events with the Occurrences of those times) I would not scruple to affirm, that their Contract of Marriage was a Treaty, which God by his Providence negotiated with all the Nations of Europe, for their common Defence and Preservation.  
After her arrival in Holland, where Providence detained her several years, as in a safe Retreat, far from the Allurements and Hurry of the World; where she employed herself in the exercise of all those Virtues, that might fit her to serve the Great Designs of God. There, she did not cease to be useful to the Country which she had left, by terrifing Popery that disturbed its Peace, and by over-awing even those who seemed not capable of being restrained by Fear. In Holland she continues to be the Hope of England. Her Life is a dear Pledge of the love of God to that Nation; and so long as that lasts, they fear not that he will forsake them.  
But she was not only made for the Good of that Country that had the honour to give her Birth: She was also eminently useful to others, and above all she was the Joy and Admiration of that, where Providence was pleased to fix her. In less time than seems necessary to view that happy Climate, she conformed herself exactly to its Manners and Customs. She became a Pattern to its Women, even in their own peculiar Virtues. She gave them an illustrious example not only of Modesty and Chastity, but also of Frugality and Moderation. The sweetness of her Temper, and the winning mildness of her Deportment took away that haughty Air from Greatness with which it is usually armed. She never suffered any Persons to depart unsatisfied from her presence; and taught even those to love a Court who before esteemed nothing but Liberty and an Equality of Conditions. And it may be said that among all the Parties and Divisions that disturbed the State, the most opposite Factions were still united in the love and Admiration of her Virtues.  
It was there that her Judgement, besides all those great and early improvements with which it was already adorned, became larger and more extensive by the help of a second Education. There, her Mind was polished and brightened by continual Reading, and the Conversation of Ingenious Persons whom she always honoured with her Protection. And there she acquired that comprehensive Knowledge, and those sublime Perfections which would have shone with greater lustre, if they had not been covered with the veil of her Humility.  
There, in pious solitudes, she acted the part of a Moses upon the Mount, while her Illustrious Husband performed the Office of a Joshua at the Head of his Armies, where his Valour and Conduct were equally admired in good and bad Fortune; and while, by making the best use of both he advanced apace to that Height of Merit and Honour that was necessary to deserve those glorious Favours that Heaven intended to bestow upon him.  
We may easily remember that Time which our latest Posterity shall never forget, for they also are concerned in it. A Time, in which God set bounds to the Oppression of the people, and to the Affliction of his Church; In which by one sudden stroke he stopped the progress of that Power which threatened to devour all the World; in which he preserved the Earth from the over-bearing Inundations of that raging Sea, by writing on the Sand Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further. We saw, and still have before our Eyes that important Juncture of Affairs, when the Alwise Governor of the World, who disposes second Causes according to his pleasure, thought fit to chain the preservation of England, and of so many other Countries to the Resolution of one Man; when the Laws, Rights, Liberty, and Religion of so many Nations were entrusted by Providence to the inconstancy of the Waves; when even the Tempests served in so admirable a manner to advance the Work of our Deliverance; when unbloody Victories executed the designs of the God of Mercy; when the Armies of the wicked were subdued by the Harmony and Union of our Minds; when the Deliverer appeared, and the Terrors of God seized on our Enemies; and when by the miraculous Blessing of God on the noblest and most necessary undertaking of our Age, England is still suffered to enjoy her Laws, the Church to serve God, and we to live and breath.  
'Twas then that England became the Field of Battle, where that surprising Contest was decided, between God who assisted us so visibly, and Men that opposed the designs of his Wisdom. But could the Almighty be defeated by his Creatures, or could his Providence be resisted by his Enemies? At at the same time the heart of the Princess was made the Scene of a no less extraordinary but more secret Engagement between Nature and Grace: and here also God obtained the Victory by his spirit. Both these Victories were justified, and made unquestionable, one by its Consequences, and the other by its Effects. The Victory of Providence, by the Events which followed it; and that of Grace by the Virtues with which it was accompanied.  
If such a numerous Train of the Consequences of that Event, which are either so necessary for our Preservation, or so honourable to England, the progress of Popery stopped, our holy Religion supported, our Laws restored, the Discipline and Order of the Church secured, the Universities those Eyes of the Church and State happily preserved, Arbitrary Power for ever banished, the Right of our Elections re-established, our Estates assured to us, our Privileges made henceforth inviolable, Ireland freed from Pillage, from Dissolution and Burning, our Allies defended by our Arms; a formidable and potent Enemy, that has threatened so long to rob us of our Liberty, now scarce able to defend himself, his Ships cooped up in a Harbour, and his Coasts exposed to the terrible effects of our just Vengeance; the Conqueror of Europe ready to be confined within his proper and narrower Bounds; and all the World obliged to England for its Quiet and Liberty. If, I say all these Glorious Consequences of our Deliverance do not speak loud enough to convince us that Providence consulted our happiness when it sent the Deliverer to England; let us be persuaded by the virtues of MARY, who was herself an Apology for the Revolution.  
Let us not look for any other Mark of the Approbation of Heaven, than the rare Piety of that Princess. Let the virtue of our two Illustrious Sovereigns magnify the Wisdom of the People that called them to the Throne; and let the Prosperity of the people display the wonderful Goodness of God.  
With how much lustre did their virtue shine forth on that Glorious Day, when they accepted a Crown that they had never sued for; a Crown that was offered them by a Nation that loves Liberty too well, that is too jealous of its Rights, too powerful and magnanimous to suffer itself to be forced on an occasion of so great importance for its Preservation and Safety; and filled a Throne to which it may be more properly said that they were carried by the people, than that they willingly mounted it?  
The united Interest of God and the People augmented the Union of their Generous Souls. After their arrival in England they seemed to have contracted a new Alliance which was both stronger and more sacred than the first. The King did nothing without the Queen's consent: and the Queen never attempted any thing, even during the time of her Administration, but by the inspiration of her absent Lord. 'Tis impossible to praise either of them, without giving the Eulogies of both. The Absence of their Persons, could never break the Union of their Souls: and that pitiless Death which has separated them for ever, is not able to divide their Glories.  
Nor is it less impossible to shed▪ Tears for one of them, without mourning at the same time for the other. All, the splendour that surrounds the Throne of WILLIAM serves equally to Illustrate the Tomb of MARY; and the Groans that are heard in all places for the Death of that August Deceased, are as so many Illustrious Commendations and unsuspected Eulogies of her Glorious Half, whom God continues still to preserve to us▪ Some affectionate Spouses and passionate Lovers have wished that their Dust might be mingled in their Tombs: but how much greater is the Happiness of our Royal Pair, who are sure that their virtues shall be eternally united, and that they shall possess the same place, if not in the Grave, yet at least in the Temple of Memory.  
Our grateful Posterity will read with delight the Annals of our Age, which shall for ever preserve the memory of those immortal Obligations that England received from both her Defenders. How ravished will the future Readers of our History be to learn that our admrable Princes so soon after their Accession to the Throne began to divide the Cares of the Government between them, that while one conquered his Enemies, the other defended her Subjects; that WILLIAM the Conqueror and MARY the Deliverer resembled so perfectly the two bright Stars that govern our Nights and Days; and that while the former blessed Ireland with glorious and happy Days, the latter comforted and supported England during the gloomy Night of Trouble and Adversity.  
Her second Regency was signaliz▪ d by the entire Reduction of the Kingdom of Ireland, as the first was, by Victories that will certainly seem incredible to those that shall hear 'em related with all their Circumstances. A Great River passed in the Sight of the Enemy, a Considerably City carried by Storm, tho' attacked on a side where the Water that surrounded it, seemed to render it impregnable; The Enemy's Army braved by that famous passage of our Troops, and by so important a Conquest, which they beheld but could not hinder, are Events, that have sometimes been seen to happen severally and at a great distance, but were then all united in one amazing Action; while the astonished World, beheld both Men and Elements subdu▪ d before us, and doubted which of our Victories was most glorious. And then, Agrim died with the Blood of our routed Enemies whom we assaulted in their Entrenchments, and in the midst of the unaccessible Bogs where they were posted; and so many Cities, the Retreats of Rebellion, reduced either by the Force or Terror of our Arms; so many glorious Advantages which we owed not so much to the Conduct of our Generals and the invincible Valour of our Soldiers, as to the Care and Piety of MARY, whom God took pleasure to favour, and Men esteemed it their honour to obey; All these I say were Miracles of Providence, that were indeed rare and surprising, but would have been much more so, if they had been wrought for any other than Her.  
It would be hard for us to divert our Thoughts from the Contemplation of these wonderful Subjects, if a greater Event did not command our Attention, in which the Queen was more nearly concerned, and had a more immediate Title to the Glory with which it Crowned Her. France, having learned by an experience of many years, how necessary it was for the Advancement of her ambitious Grandeur, to enslave that Nation, which alone could prevent the execution of her unjust Designs upon the rest of Europe, took the advantage of a specious pretext of re-inthroning a King that was her Ally, to set forth a Fleet and an Army, which were indeed designed for the Conquest of Great Britain. The Number of the Forces that were employed on this Expedition, while our Troops were engaged abroad in a foreign War, the secret Contrivances of our Enemies at home, the Disaffection of some Members of the State, and the Surprisal and Astonishment of the Loyal Party, the cunning and closeness of our Enemy's Counsels which they had not forgot on this occasion, and above all the King's Absence who was hazarding his Life in the Defence of his Neighbours, and for our common Preservation; I say, The Conjunction of so many threatening Circumstances filled all the Nations of Europe with the same Apprehensions for us, that we were wont to be sensible of for them.  
The Queen was not ignorant of these Dangers; she saw them such as they were in themselves and even greater than they appeared to others. But her Great Soul was not daunted: And while she was ready to expose her Sacred Person to those Dangers that threatened her Country; she appeared to her Subjects with her wont Tranquillity; and showed them that serene Countenance, and that unconcerned and Majestic Air which commanded Respect from all that saw her, and at the same time inspired them with Courage.  
She forgot nothing that the most active exact Prudence could suggest, as sit to be done in such a juncture, without noise or a too visible Concern. She secured the Peace of the Nation, by seizing on those that might have disturbed it. She took care to put the Militia in a Condition to second the Army, and at the same time she put the Army in a condition to resist the Enemy. She entertained Eyes and Ears thro' all the parts of the Kingdom, to observe all that occurred. The most secret Cabals of the disaffected ●arty, nor their best conceal▪ d Magazines could escape her diligence. She seemed to be the universal Genius of the Kingdom, which encouraged the Soldiers, animated the Officers, enlivened the Magistrates, and filled them all with a noble Resolution to spend their Blood in the defence of their Country. But her principal Care was to engage the Officers of the Fleet to a vigorous performance of their Duty: She bound them to her service with the Ties of Gratitude and Virtue; She entrusted the safety of the Nation to their Honour: And they received both her Messages and Letters with Transports of Zeal and Affection that they could not hide. They we were filled with a brave Emulation to outstrip one another in Faithfulness and Courage; and their Loyalty was quickly recompensed with immortal Laurels that were died with Blood, and crowned their Valour.  
How delightful is the Remembrance of those glorious and happy Days, when the dreaded news of our Enemy's Descent was prevented by the welcome Account of their Defeat; when they found a Kingdom, which they expected would have yielded itself up to their ambition, guarded by floating Forts, from whose brazen mouths they received a terrible salutation by those fiery Messengers of Death that were sent to bid them welcome. We have not forgot the time when our Enemies who, at their setting out to invade us, expected with so much impatience the appointed signal of their Departure, were forced to content themselves with the light of their own burning Ships instead of a Signal of Retreat; when they who had already disposed of England and of all its Riches, its Fleets and its Armies, by whose assistance they they hoped to hasten the Destruction of Europe, found their own Funeral Piles and the end of all their hopes in their flaming Vessels; when being environed by two hostile Elements, they knew not to which of them they should surrenrender themselves, or whether to choose Burning or Ship wrack, and at last died uncertain whether they perished by Fire or by Water.  
This single success was designed by Providence to usher in a succeeding Course of Victories, and to make way for the Glories of the last Campaign, in which we saw a potent Enemy that was wont to prescribe Laws to others, yield without resistance the Empire of the Sea to England, whose commanding Flags fly over all the World, and secure the Trade of our Merchants, the Power and Credit of the Nation, the Provinces of our Allies, and the Honour and Reputation of our Arms.  
There was a time when England felt the miseries of a raging War in her own Bowels, while her Neighbours were in peace: now she enjoys all the Blessings of a profound peace in the midst of a War that fills other Nations with Desolation and Ruin. We enjoy without disturbance the product of our Fields, and of our labours; The Arts and Sciences flourish among us without Interruption. No man is exempted by the Law of the Sword from yielding Obedience to the Laws of the State. Every man is Master at home, and fears not to be punished by military Execution for his honest Desire to preserve what belongs to him.  
Who could have believed, and yet who can deny, that the same Person whose Mind was ravished with an attentive Contemplation of that Great Spectacle of our Deliverance and Preservation, which were also the continual Objects of her Care, who was continually occupied in that glorious Ministry under the Orders of that providence that protected her, could at the same time be a pattern to all other Women in the Simplicity of Domestic Affairs?  
She ordered the Affairs of her Household with as much Care and Exactness, as if she had not been entrusted with the Government of so many Nations; and she managed the Affairs of the Crown with so much Application and Success as if she had never thought on any thing else. Nothing was either too great, or too little for a mind like Hers.  
She seemed to be the Mother as well as the Mistress of all those Women that Served her: She rewarded the Services that she received from them by the Care that she took of them, and by the Examples of Virtue that she set before them. They that entered into her Service were Consecrated to God; and in opposition to the Custom of almost all Ages and Nations, they that desired to become Courtiers were obliged in some sense to renounce the World.  
By the lustre of her merit, she appeared worthy of the Empire of the World: And by the Extensiveness of her Bounty, she seemed to be the Mother of all the Families in the Kingdom.  
She laboured earnestly to make England a Divine Monarchy, or the Kingdom of God, and to imprint the Image of Heaven on these Fortunate Islands, where nothing can be wanting, if they be not destitute of Piety and Truth.  
The Laws which she made, and the Examples which she gave, seemed to contend which of them should most effectually recommend Virtue. But why should we make a distinction between them; since the Orders that she established to promote the Service of God are Examples worthy to be imitated by all Sovereigns; and the Examples which she gave have the force of Laws to all those that have any sense of Piety or Virtue.  
Prince's may be said in some sense to command every thing that they do, and to forbid every thing that they do not. Their Example has an attractive Power to draw others after them. Both their Vices and their Virtues spread themselves over all their Dominions; and are in some measure eternised by Imitation. The least Crime that they commit renders them guilty of a thousand others; and all the Virtues with which they are adorned are incessantly reproduced in the Hearts of an infinite number of persons that are ambitious of resembling them.  
'Tis certainly a great Blessing to a Nation to have a Sovereign that never gives a bad Example; but this was but the least Advantage of Great Britain, that had the happiness to see the privileges of Chastity and Virtue restored together with her Liberty, and the Laws of Honour and Decency re-established as well as those of the State and of Society.  
MARY scattered the Seeds of Almsgiving by her diffusive Charity, and of all other Virtues by her edifying Example. She reformed her Subjects by the care which she took to regulate her own Life, and enured even those to honest Labour who look upon Idleness and Sloth as an Appendix of their Greatness. She allured a thousand Benefactors to the Poor by an ever-active Charity, which more industrious than Interest itself invented new Methods for their Subsistance. She performed by the Ministry of those who imitated her Virtue, what God did by hers. The Poor were obliged to her for the Good they received from others, as they owed to God the Good that she did and caused to be done.  
By her Care Piety was restored if not to all its Privileges, yet at least to a new degree of Reputation. Devotion was no longer esteemed a Weakness, and the World was constrained to pay some Respect to Religion.  
Religion was her peculiar care. She was no sooner seated on the Throne, but she began to make it her Business and her Pleasure to defend it, and to preserve it in its purity. How careful was she to bestow the Dignities of the Church on deserving Persons? When were these Sacred Sources of the Edification and Instruction of the People more pure and undefiled? Never did a tender and loving Mother employ greater care and circumspection in the choice of fit Persons to be entrusted with the Education of her Children, than she used in the Choice of the Spiritual Fathers of her People; and never Sovereign consecrated his Subjects to God with a purer and more Holy Intention▪ I appeal to the Testimony of all the World and of almost all Ages, whose unacquaintedness with this virtue is a clear proof of its Worth. How many Princes are there, who, on such occasions, are swayed by Unjust and Sacrilegious Motives, and favour Recommendation to the prejudice of Virtue, who recompense Secular Services without regard to the Edification of Souls, and make the Salvation of Mankind and the Glory of God depend on the meanest Interests, and even sometimes on the most guilty Passions.  
't would have been esteemed the Glory of any other Prince, to have been able to avoid so general a Fault, as that of a criminal Complaisance in the choice of the Ministers of the Altar; but this was not enough for MARY. She recalled those blessed Times, those happy Ages of the Church, when Dignities courted Merit, when Humility and Modesty were drawn out of their Retirements, and compelled to accept those great Charges which they refused; and when Virtue thus forcibly recompensed had a Right to preach Disinterestedness and Resignation to others.  
By advancing every one according to his Merit, his Gifts and his Virtue, and the Advantage which the People might receive from him; and by ranking those shining Lights in the Mystical Heaven of the Church, she imitated that Order and variety, that pleasant and useful Subordination, with which an Omniscient and Eternal Hand has placed the Stars in the Firmament.  
With how much delight and satisfaction did good Men behold that happy Turn of Affairs in England. How did they rejoice to see those whom Persecution had marked out for the Objects of its Fury, honoured with the noblest Recompenses of their Merit and Virtue? To see our most Illustrious Sufferers made our chief Prelates, and to contemplate in this blessed Change, as in a lively Figure, the future Happiness of the Universal Church, when it shall be advanced from a State of Warfare to a State of Glory and Triumph?  
But why do we speak of Triumph and Glory? Have we forgot that MARY is in her Grave. A fatal and cruel Disease, and more cruel to us than to her, has forced her away from the Prayers and Desires of her Subjects, from the Hopes of the whole World, from the Bosom of a passionately loved and loving Husband, and, above all, from the Great Designs of her Piety and Beneficence.  
She was prepared to leave us, but we were not prepared to lose her. The Dismal Tidings of her Sickness filled every Heart with Woe, and every Mouth with Lamentations: Every one begs God to shorten his Days and to add them to so precious a Life. An Universal Cry was heard through the whole Nation, or rather through all those Nations who depended on her by the dearest and most Sacred Ties of Religion and Gratitude, a Cry of Mourning and of Supplication, which doubtless would have reached to the Throne of God, if our Sins had not been stronger than our Prayers.  
Yet all endeavour to flatter themselves with some hopes. None are willing to deny themselves the pleasure of believing what they desire; and even, after all hopes were taken away, we durst not think of her Death.  
Nevertheless it approached, that inexorable Death, which by one Blow pierced the Hearts of an infinite number of persons. It was the Terror of all the World; but MARY was prepared to receive it.  
Already her tender Heart had boar the shock of a sharp Conflict between Nature and Grace; and the first triumphed over the latter, though it was forced to struggle hard for the Victory, when she beheld her dear and despairing Lord ready to expire before her, and just sinking under the weight of his Sorrow. Forgive, great God, this last Effort of her Tenderness, these Remainders of a Passion that will be quickly extinguished. Thou knowst the closeness of the Union that linked these two Illustrious Hearts, nor could they possibly consent without pain to so killing a separation.  
After she had offered up to God this last Sacrifice of her Love, which was the hardest but a necessary part of her dying Task, she hears without disturbance the fatal Message, which they who brought it could not deliver without trembling.  
She thanks the Author of her Salvation that she was not now to prepare for her end; she gives the Glory to God that had inspired her with a sense of better things; she declares with joy that her Religion had taught her not to trust her Great Interest to the Uncertainties of a late Repentance; and can cheerfully cry, with the great Exemplar of Submission, Lo I come to thy Will O God  
She fears to lose the remaining Moment's of her Life; she employs them in harkening to seasonable Instructions concerning her God, and approaching Passage to Glory, and takes care that the continual Reading of pious Books may supply the place of an uninterrupted Exhortation.  
She expresses her Piety more by Actions than by Words; but those few Words that she uses are full of the Spirit of Christianity and Holiness. She does nothing out of Ostentation, and omits nothing that may serve for the public Edification.  
Twice she communicated with Christ, at the beginning of her Sickness by Works of Charity, and towards the end of it in the Sacrament of the Eucharist: First, with the Members of Christ, by a cheerful distribution of Alms, and then, with Christ himself, who repaid in Grace and spiritual Consolations, what he had received from her in temporal Assistance, and after he had comforted on her Deathbed, received her into the Mansions of his Glory.  
Thus ended that Life which was so useful to the World, and so dear to the Church of God; which she, or we rather, lost, in the Height of its Glory, in a flourishing Age, and at a time when her Affairs were in a very prosperous state. Thus were those charitable Eyes forever shut, that were always wont to be Messengers of Good Tidings to the Poor, those Ears that were always attentive to their Cry, and that Mouth which seemed never to open but to do them good, to promise them relief, or to interceded for them. MARY shall hear no more the Groans of the afflicted, that were wont to pierce her tender Soul; and they shall see her no more, who was always ready to assist and comfort them: She is now in a place where there are no Objects of Compassion. MARY is dead to live again; she has left her Throne here to ascend to one above the Stars: She is now raising the Joys of Heaven, and has filled the Earth with Mourning and Desolation.  
Scarce had she vanished from our sight, when her Merit appearing in all its splendour to the Eyes of the Universe, was celebrated by the Tears or Praises of all sorts of Persons, and publicly extolled in all languages, because she was a Benefactress to all Nations. She has left no man the liberty to speak or be silent: Every one praises her according to his ability; and they who relate her Words and Actions with the greatest simplicity give the highest Idea of her Virtue.  
A thousand Eloquent Mouths praise her, or are silent only because they are conscious to themselves that they cannot praise her worthily. Others having begun to write her Character, are interrupted by Sighs and Tears, which will not suffer them to finish their Undertaking. Orators, scarce able to follow at a distance the sublime Flights of her Virtues, seem to have recourse to Fiction in their descriptions of them; and Poets, to paint forth so real and sacred a merit, are forced for the first time, to borrow the natural and unaffected Language of Truth. The Poet without Fiction, and the Orator without Disguise, in their ordinary discourse, speak things of her now at her Death which they neither durst, nor could without Flattery have prefaged at her Birth.  
How vain, yet commendable are all our Endeavours to adorn her Tomb? In vain Crowds of her Subjects, grateful to their deceased Benefactress, and just to her Memory, run to see, and to augment by their Presence the Pomp of her Funeral.  
There are no Obsequies worthy of MARY, or if there are; they most only consist in the Works of her Piety, and in Sghts that we owe to her Virtue: the Poor watering her Tomb with their Tears, the Virtues weeping round her Monument, our restored Laws supplying the place of her Titles and of the marks of her Dignity, the numerous and magnificent Train of all those that were either relieved by her Bounty, protected by her Authority, or defended by her Wisdom, the great Examples of her Life exposed to the Eyes of the World, her Country and Religion following their dear Preserver, and Liberty carried as in triumph, in a Chariot, without the wretched Attendance of miserable Captives, or oppressed Nations. What can there be in all this Pomp, that strikes the Eyes of a wondering Nation with a more agreeable splendour, than the Nation itself freed from the Yoke that was to be imposed upon it? Is there any thing more Glorious in the Funeral Oration which the Chief Minister of our Religion pronounced before his listening Auditory, than the Liberty that he has to speak, and we to hear him, in that place. And among all that Assembly of mourning Sages, who ar● no less distinguished by their Gravity and Wisdom, than by th● honour they have to represent the Nation, is there any thin● more Noble and Magnificent in the eyes of those who remember former times, than that we have a Parliament. May ye la● for ever, ye noble Objects of MARY's Care, and precious Reli● of your deceased Queen, ye Liberty, Church, and People of Britain, living Monuments of her true Grandeur, perpetual Ornaments of her Tomb, and Immortal Pomp of her Funeral; m●● ye last for ever for her Glory, and may her Memory endure eternally for your Consolation.  
Fear not that she shall be subject to the Fate of perishab●● Things▪ MARY shall live; MARY shall never die. Her 〈◊〉 example shall pass from Age to Age; and her Virtues, immortalised by a happy imitation, shall make her the profitable 〈◊〉 light of the World, and the Benefactress of Mankind, till the final Consummation of all Things. But the Grief that is occasioned by her Death shall not be eternal: She that is a source of mourning to us, shall be the Joy of succeeding Ages, who will forget that she died to remember only that she was born: and will change the Cypress of her Funeral into Nosegays and Garlands, which they will strew upon her Tomb.  
But whether are we carried by a Zeal that loses itself equally both in Joy and Grief. Can we forget that MARY rejected those vain Applauses during her Life, and condemns them yet more afher Death; that on the Throne she gave us Lessons of Humility, and in her Tomb preaches to us the vanity of the World; that in the dark apartments of the Grave she imposes silence one Pride, and reigning with God in the Heavens commands our Grief to be silent; and that pointing sometimes to her Tomb, and sometimes to the Throne where she is seated, she does by turns comfort us, and exhort us to Humility.  
In the midst of that multitude of melancholic, d●mb, and lifeless Monarches, those venerable Carcases, those mouldering Majesties and wormeaten Gods of the Earth, whose Darkness illuminates, our minds, whose solitude discourses to us, and even whose silence is eloquent, MARY proclaims aloud the meanness of humane Grandeur with a mightier voice than ever yet struck our Ears: She exhorts us to approach and behold those who governed this Kingdom and her who preserved it, that we may may see the poor remainders of all their ancient splendour, and of the vain Applause of Men. But she is still more humble▪ d in the Heavens by the presence of God, than in the Grave amidst the dismal Pomp of Death; she surrenders all the Glories of her Life and the Honours that she receiv▪ d at her Death, to that God to whom all Honour and Glory belongs.  
GOD, she cries, is your only Benefactor, the only Deliverer of Nations, Protector of Empires, and Comforter of the afflicted; He alone is Good, Merciful, Wise, Great, and Wonderful: He is All in himself, and I was nothing but by him. Go to my Grave, and see there what I am; Come to Heaven, and see here what He is. O ye admirers of Dust, or rather of that which is nothing, do n●t persist longer in your injustice to the Glory of the Almighty, Cease to praise me, and begin to serve him▪ Carry your Incense to his Altars, and leave my Body to the Worms, Open his Temples, and shut my Tomb.  
THE END