Licenced,  
Octob. 4. 1690. R. MIDGLEY.   

A PANEGYRIC TO THE MEMORY OF HIS GRACE Frederick Late DUKE of SCHONBERG, Marquis of Harwich, Earl of Brentford, Count of the Holy Empire, State-Holder of Prussia, Grandee of Spain, etc. General of all His Majesty's Land Forces, and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter.  
By H. de Luzancy, Minister of Harwich, Chaplain to the late Duke, and to his present Grace of Schonberg.  
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley, in Russel-street in Covent-Garden, 1690.   

ADVERTISEMENT.  
IT will not be amiss to tell the Reader, that there having been a Design, to give some present Account of the Life of His Grace the late Duke of Schonberg, at last, it was thought fit to write a Panegyric, than a History. Several Memoirs are now wanting to perfect the one, and there is Matter enough to fill up the other: Both agreeing in this, that nothing is omitted in a Panegyric, that is great or considerable in History.  
It may be Objected; that it is a way of writing somewhat strange and extraordinary to us: That there is very few pieces of that sort extant in English; and that nothing satisfies and instructs so much; as a Critical and Exact Calculation of times and places, as being that which gives not only a general prospect, but also a particular account of men's Lives.  
But this is easily answered, if we consider, that tho' the Pens of this Nation, so admirably exercised in all other kinds of Writing, have in a great measure neglected this; yet it is excellent in itself, and much admired by Ancient and Modern Authors.  
The best of the Greek and Roman Writers, have not only left us several Pieces that are Originals in that way of Writing; but even prescribed a Method to attain to its Perfection. Longinus and Pliny have far outdone the Histories of their times: Gregory the Nazianzene, and St. Ambrose of Milan, tho' in a less Polite Age, and a courser Stile, have excelled in it. The French have raised it of late to a great height, and their Orisons Funebres, particularly that of Marshal de Turenne, the Prince of Condé, and Madam de Longueville, might pass for Models to future Ages, if they had not too much the Air of Sermons.  
This is ventured amongst the rest, by way of Essay, and if not accepted, will only serve as a Preface to the Duke of Schonberg's History.   

A Panegyric to the Memory, etc.  
THE Loss of His Grace the Duke of SCHONBERG has filled Europe both with Grief and Amazement. So great a Person grown old in the Commands of Armies, might have promised himself a better Fate, and died in the Arms of his Friends. Hero's seem to have a title to Life; and tho' they have run a long course of years, their Death is always surprising and untimely. The end of this Noble Duke was so to us; but the Blow would have smarted much more, had it not been in a manner swallowed up with the News of the great Victory in Ireland, and the loud acclamations of joy to WILLIAM the Third suppressed all other Passions whatsoever. Happy then to see before he was taken away, the success of his Royal Master, and to have been an Instrument of that Victory which settles him in his Kingdoms.  
Let us pay him after his death that admiration which used to attend all the Actions of his Life. It is a Theme on which may be spent all the Beauties of Eloquence, and a Subject worthy the best Pens; in which the Orator has this advantage, That what he has to say is above the improvements of Art, and the mean assistance of Flattery.  
The true Representation of that Noble Person is of itself a Panegyric; and only this is to be said of him, That Greatness and Goodness, so seldom united in others, have been in him inseparably linked; That he has been conspicuous to the World by good Actions, as well as famous Exploits; That he has not only been a Great, but also an Excellent Man.  
The real Greatness of Men is chief derived from the Nobility of their Birth, the splendour of their Employments, and the reputation of their Performances: The one is a kind of Capacity for the greatest Trusts; the other an Argument of their Worth and Abilities; and the last a splendid distinction from the Herd of Mortals, who act within a narrow Sphere, and are forgotten in the Crowd.  
The DUKE had the advantage of the First, by a long and uninterrupted descent of Noble Ancestors in the Palatinate: That Country gave him to the World, as a new Ornament to a Family already honoured with the greatest Civil and Military Offices, both at home and abroad: He had in his Veins the Blood of Princes of the Empire, of Statholders, and of Mareschaux de France: He brought their inclinations into the World, and made since a vast addition to their Stock of Fame and Honour.  
But how unprofitable is the happiest Nature, if it be not seconded by a Generous Education? And what does it signify to be descended from Heroic Ancestors, if we are not made capable of treading in their steps? Education makes us truly what we are; and if Nature prepares Men to, it is that that lays the Foundation of Great Actions.  
The DUKE was brought up by those Masters who took care to perfect in him the Christian and the Gentleman; two Qualifications so far from being inconsistent, that the one infinitely helps the other; the Service of God fitting us for that of the Prince: Fenced then with Principles of Honour and Virtue at home, he was ventured abroad; Germany, England, France and Holland spent his younger years. The three first, the greatest Courts; the last, the plainest, but perhaps the wisest part of Europe. Travelling was not then, what the monstrous Corruption and Degeneracy of this Age has made it since. It is now resolved into smattering of French, and a perfect Systeme of all manner of Vices: Men of Quality than did not only learn Languages, a fine sort of Accomplishment; but did endeavour to penetrate into the Interests, Designs, and Inclinations of other Countries; and came home Wiser, Better, and fit to Govern themselves and others.  
The DUKE became so absolute a Master of those Languages, that it was hard to discern which was most Natural to him: And tho' he had not been here of many years, yet he had preserved the Beauty and Purity of the English Tongue, to a great degree. But he had so acquainted himself with the Secrets of Europe, as to understand the management of all Courts, and be as fit for the Cabinet, as he proved afterwards for the Camp.  
His Genius leading him to Martial Affairs, He gave himself wholly to the study of Military Discipline: Nature had fitted him, for what Europe admired him afterwards; that is, for an Excellent Commander. And really, this is the Scene of that Great Man's Life. It is the Theatre, where his Actions have replenished the world with astonishment; and made him, if not Superior, at least Equal, to the MONTECUCULIS, the TURENNES, the CONDES, that is, the CAESARS of our Age.  

He had a Robust, and Strong Body, capable of the greatest Hardships. He was Naturally Active, a great lover of Exercise, Healthful and Temperate to Admiration. He neither Courted nor Feared Danger; ever Himself, ever Fortunate, ever preventing the worst, and Surmounting the greatest Difficulties.  
He would not presume to Command, before he knew perfectly how to Obey. He began by the smallest charge of the Army; and owed his Advancement, neither to the advantage of his Quality, being then Count of the Holy Empire, or to the Credit of his Friends; but to his own Personal Merit: He did not Court, but Command his Advancement; and so distinguished himself, as to fix the eyes of Europe upon him, and persuade the World, that he had no Obstacle, but his Religion, to the greatest Honour that France could give him.  
But omitting the particular account of what he did in an Inferior Station, as that that would change a Panegyric into History, and swell a Discourse into a Volume: we shall only praise what seems most considerable. Thus laying aside Bourbourg, than a most important place to the French, defended by the DUKE against two powerful Armies, which he forced by his Conduct to Raise the Siege; and the tedious Wars of Rousillon; What more Glorious or Successful? What more Wise and Fortunate, than the business of Portugal? That Kingdom had fallen into the hands, and remained some years under the Command of Spain. A happy Conspiracy, if that Name can be given to the Asserting the Liberties, and securing the Throne of a Nation, broke at last the fatal Yoke. But the grief of losing the Fruit of an Usurpation, to which time had given the face of a good Title, raised the Fury, and stirred up the whole Power of the Spaniards: Besides the Natural Strength of that People, who are generally Brave and Great; they had Peace with France: They were easily persuaded, that their united Forces, would quickly oblige their Enemy to return to their Obedience. Thus they poured their vast Armies into the very Bowels of Portugal; and had almost put a period to the War, and to that strange Revolution. It was then, and not before, that the Duke was sent to Command what Forces the Distressed Portugueses could make. His Name raised their drooping Spirits: His Valour made 'em Brave, and his Conduct Wise: He retook their Towns, and beat their Enemies in all the Rencounters he had with them: He overcame them in several Battles. But in the last, wherein Don Juan of Austria had received vast Reinforcements from Spain, and was resolved either to perish, or secure that Country to his King, who had been at so vast an Expense of Blood and Treasure to preserve it; He Defeated him so absolutely, that he never appeared more.  
The Spaniard was forced to accept of a Peace, which before the Duke's coming, he could not be prevailed upon to grant; to Treat with those he had called Rebels, as with his Equals; and to acknowledge Portugal a Free and an Independent Kingdom.  
All Europe was amazed at this: The Poets and Orators filled the World with his Praises. France who is equitable to none, but those whom they think will advance their Interests, was just to him in that point: Lewis the Invincible, who shall be so, till William the Third can meet him in the Field, sent to offer him the Baston of Marshal de France; a Dignity, which is to this day the greatest Reward of Merit in Christendom; as Ancient as that Monarchy, and never paid but to Eminent Services. But indeed, it was offered on a Condition, which the Duke rather than accept, would have forfeited all the Glory of his past Life. It was desired of him, that he would leave the Religion of his Ancestors, and be of that of the Prince who employed him. This was urged with all the earnestness imaginable, and such Insinuations added to it, as would have shaken the constantest Man. But oh, the Power of Honour and Religion! oh, the Resolution of a settled Mind! The Duke answered the King, That he thought himself extremely unhappy, that his Majesty should have so ill an Opinion of him, as to think that all that is Great in the World, could make him change his Religion. That if, upon such low Motives, he abandoned the Service of the God of his Fathers, he should deserve the scorn of all Men, and in particular of his Majesty: And that he who was not true to God, could never be faithful to his Prince. Thus he declined the Splendid Offer; and showed a Soul that was proof against the most pressing Temptations of Mankind.  
But his Merit, a short time after forced that Dignity from their hands. The vast Designs of France, made them dispense with their Bigotry: They were sensible, that those Men carried Success and Victory at their heels: That King than sent him the BASTON, without any other condition than that of serving his Prince; and could but admire his Generosity, equal to a Great Man of the same time, in all other parts; but much greater in this, that the other was overcome; lost first his Religion, and shortly after his Fortune with his Life.  
CATALONIA and FLANDERS saw him with this increase of Honour. In the one, he repressed the Insolence of the Spaniard. In the other, he laid the foundation of those Conquests, which like a rapid stream did since overrun the Spanish Netherlands. He obliged the Hero of this Age to raise the Siege of Maestrick, when nothing but a Surrender was expected.  
His vast Skill in Military Affairs, made the Soldier bold and secure under him. No attempt seemed difficult, if but done by his Command. He was the Love as well as the Terror of his Enemies. For no General was ever so averse from Violence, even against those he had vanquished. The War was never with him, what it is now with some Generals the other side of the Sea, where burning of Towns, laying a whole Country in Ashes, and sparing neither Age nor Sex, is looked on as a great commendation to Posterity.  
The furious Zeal of the common Disturbers of Mankind, I mean the Jesuits, having raised a violent Persecution against the French Protestants; The Duke was involved in their Fate; and forced to leave a Service so highly Honoured, Advanced, and Obliged by him. His Great Soul, would not suffer him so much as to complain. He was moved with every body's loss, but his own; and pitied those unfortunate Counsels, which deprived a Prince of so many of his best Subjects.  
His Imperial Majesty had some thoughts to offer him the Command of his Armies. But this was soon obstructed by the Jesuits Faction; a sort of Men, whom it is even dangerous for Crowned Heads to disoblige. Several other Princes courted him to their Dominions: His Duty carried him to the late Elector of BRANDENBOURGH, a Wise, a Religious, a Brave, and a Fortunate Prince.  
ENGLAND then began to be distracted, not with Fears and Jealousies, but real Terrors. It had no more the looks of that happy Island; where Peace and Plenty, Honour and Security, seemed to have seated themselves for ever. King JAMES declaring himself for a Religion so inconsistent with the Laws, Interests, and Inclinations of the People, banished every thing that could be called Joy. But his endeavouring to supplant the Ancient Religion; to subvert the Laws; and assume to himself a Power, destructive of the very Constitution of this Government, filled all Men with an incredible Sorrow. The Consternation was much increased by that Declaration, which put no bounds to any sort of Profaneness. The Imprisoning the Reverend Prelates of this Church, made them think it high time to look to themselves. The Eyes, the Hearts, the Prayers of the Nation, were all directed to him who has undertaken and performed our Deliverance.  
His Majesty Came, Saw, and Conquered King JAMES: But did not think the Enterprise easy or likely to succeed, without a General of Reputation. SCHONBERG, the Famous'st Captain of this Age, was the King's choice; and this I take to be the highest Commendation can be given him, and the finest part of that Picture which is now drawing. That the Crowd should spend themselves in loud Acclamations: That Orators, Poets, and Gazetteers, should noise it all the world over, is indeed considerable. But that King WILLIAM, who has so great an insight in Men; who is himself for Wisdom and Valour, for Conduct and Courage, the admiration of all People, should trust him with the Undertaking, speaks the whole Character of the Duke, better than any thing that can be said of him.  
Heaven seemed to have prepared a concourse of Causes, to work and hasten that astonishing Revolution which we have seen, and Posterity will scarce believe. Such were the Religion of King JAMES; The rashness of his Counsels; The laying aside his Fathers and Brothers Friends; The contriving to Ridicule and Ruin a Church, which is the best Support to the Crown; and above all things, the false Glory of imitating LEWIS the 14th, in being confined by no Law, and proceeding by Arbitrary Methods: All these things made way for this wonderful change. He had a numerous and fine Army. He was made to believe that his Subjects would tamely yield to any thing. He could not be persuaded, that Englishmen would rouse at last, and secure themselves and their Laws. He shared already in his mind with LEWIS of France, the Glory of extirpating the Northern Heresy.  
But oh the Vanity of Men, whose Designs fight against God, and are not modelled by the Rules of Justice and Equity! His now Majesty Lands, and God who takes away the Spirit of Princes, left King JAMES no Resolution. But this may be assured with Truth, that the Duke's coming over, helped as much as any thing to distract his Councils. The King's Forces were far from being numerous; but the Name of SCHONBERG alone was an Army. His Age, his Reputation, his Fortune, gave a quick motion to the undertaking: The old General had crossed the Sea with cheerfulness, and a certain alacrity, which is an undoubted sign of Victory. But the Almighty would have the success wholly due to himself. The Kingdom called in a Conqueror, but was not Conquered; or if it can be called a Conquest, it was only of the Heart's of the Nation, who Conspired to make themselves happy, by declaring WILLIAM and MARY King and Queen.  
But Ireland altered the Face of Affairs, and proved the Seat of that War which we had so happily avoided. There King JAMES found not only a retreat, but also a numerous Army. He overrun that Kingdom with an incredible celerity; and found no resistance but in ; a place, where the Courage of of the Inhabitants, and the Zeal of an honest Clergy man supplied the want of Walls, of Guns, and all other things necessary for the maintenance of a long Siege.  
The Duke was sent thither with Forces highly magnified to us, or to Foreign Nations; but inconsiderable in themselves. Yet he undertook the charge; and let the Irish know of his Arrival, by the taking of Carrickfergus, Belfast, and securing to his Royal Master the North of Ireland. He met there with Enemies unknown to him before, and which would have daunted any but an Invincible Courage; and tho' the rest of that Campaign, be not famous by the taking of Towns, giving of Battles, and other Events of noise in the world; yet Envy itself must confess, that to consider the thing in itself, none but SCHONBERG could have done what was done the last Winter. Mortality raged then to that degree, that the greatest Defeat could not have consumed more of his Men. The Army was reduced to one half, and that half afflicted with infinite distempers. There was scarce two thousand in the whole, that did not share the common Calamity: Add to this an incredible scarcity of all things; and the rage of Hunger, more cruel than that of the Sword. Attacked from above by continual Rains; weakened below by Mortal Diseases; consumed within with want; and faced without, with a numerous Army, yet he secured the North of Ireland; grew upon his Enemies, and made way for that absolute Conquest, reserved to our Great Deliverer.  
He lived to see it, and helped to reap those Laurels, which Crowned the Sacred Head of WILLIAM the Third: The River Boyn saw the Conqueror lead a Victorious Army; and decide at one stroke the Fortune of that Kingdom: Unhappy only in this, that there the Great SCHONBERG was lost: An Unknown and Inglorious hand gave him the fatal blow; and deprived the World of one of its greatest Ornaments. And this sets off the Vanity of Humane Things, beyond the improvements of Eloquence: No Greatness secures from the Grave; and He, who had run through so many dangers, and left nothing to Fortune in any of the Actions of his Life; is involved in the common Fate, and dies the Death of a Private Soldier.  
Thus, Falls Frederick Duke of Schonberg, Marquis of Harwich, Count of the Holy Empire, State-Holder of Prussia, Grandee of Spain, Mareschal de France, General of the Forces of England, France, Portugal, etc. Who for Valour, Honour, and all the Accomplishments of a Great Captain, if we except King WILLIAM, to whose Blood all these things are Hereditary, has not left his Equal behind him.   

But all that has been said here, is but one part of his Character. He is as admirable in his Private, as in his Public Capacities; and there is as ample a Catalogue of his Virtues, as of his Exploits.  
To be Great and Good is extraordinary and difficult. To live in the Noise and Violence of Wars, and yet preserve a Religious Temper, and a Conscience tender of the least Evil, is infinitely rare. To be as intent to overcome ourselves, as our Enemies, is the highest improvement of Virtue; all this was in the Duke to an eminent degree. He was of an Affable, Candid, and Obliging Nature. It was harder to him to deny a Favour, than to another to be denied. He never suffered himself to be asked, when he saw a real Merit; and refused with an extreme Civility, what he could not grant.  
Temperance, which in most Men is an acquired Habit, and the reward of repeated Endeavours, was in him only the result of a happy Nature. LUCAN said of CATO, in a lofty way of Expression, pardonable to none but a Stoic, That the Illustrious Roman rather suffered than enjoyed any Pleasure. As if Passion could raise us above Passion, and Sense make us insensible. But it must truly be said of the Duke, that those Lusts never mastered him; which if they were not so generally indulged, would look strangely to Men of Honour. His Duty was his greatest Passion; and the discharge of the Noble-Trusts put into his hands, his only pleasure. And besides the Infinite Blessings which Temperance heaps on its Admirers; to this may be attributed that strength; that vivacity, that soundness of mind and body, which he preserved to a vast Age; and might have done many years longer, had not the Unfortunate Blow prevented it.  
He was of a Frugal, and yet a magnificent Disposition. Nothing so Noble as his Household, his Equipage, his way of Living: And yet nothing of Luxury, Pride, Ostentation, and a certain desire to look Great by Colour and Noise.  
He was in his different Employments, the only Person who did not praise his own Actions; as silent, as if he had not been concerned in the things that were said of him: and in this, truly Great, to be above the mean Insinuations of Flatterers. A Famous Wit in France, was commanded to Compliment him at his return from Portugal; and to make his Achievements in that Country, the chief Theme of his Harangue. He did it to the Admiration of all who heard him, but the Duke's. His Modesty was more troubled at his Praises, than ever his Courage at the sight of the Spanish Battalions. He told plainly the Orator, That he had done nothing to deserve that large Encomium; but only endeavoured, to be as instrumental as he could to the Glory of his Prince.  
What shall I say of the Nobleness of his Mind; and of that Character of Honour, Truth, and Justice, which was so Natural to him: Exact to the Rules of Civility, Breeding, and all the Accomplishments of Men of Quality; things that seemed to be born with him; and yet incapable of the Dissimulation, and other sordid Arts of Court. He could not promise, what he did not intent to perform. All his Offers of Service, were Realities. Free from that duplicity and emptiness, which with some Affectation of Mode and Gallantry, make up now the Gentleman.  
And as for the evenness of his Temper, which in a hot and strong Constitution is the more to be admired, it can scarcely be expressed. He was of an easy Access, and an incredible Patience. Never Angry, never Distasted, but always the same, willing to oblige, and averse from displeasing even the most ordinary People. The most surprising dangers, never betrayed in him any fear. The most Glorious Successes never showed in him any Pride. Master of himself in an Adverse Fortune: But that that is much rarer, Master of himself in a prosperous State.  
These Accomplishments flowed from a Religious Temper. Piety that admirable Discipline, which Divinises Man, and raises him above himself, was his continual Application. The Softness of the Court; the Violence of Wars, and the distraction of Great Employments, could not bear down in him that standing Principle of his Life. He feared him who is worthy to be feared; and looked upon Atheism and Profaneness, as Enormities to be detested by all Men; but wholly inconsistent with the Temper of Persons of Honour.  
He was Bred in the Protestant Religion: But did not owe the Zeal he had for it, to the first Impressions of Educaon, or the Examples of his Ancestors, but to the inward Conviction of his Mind. One of the strongest Arguments to embrace it, is, that it is highly Rational in itself, and free from those Impositions, which other Opinions force on our Reason. It protests not only against the ill ways of propagating Religion, such as Cruelty and Violence; Hypocrisy and Unfaithfulness: But against those designs also, that are irreconcilable to the innate Notions, and Apprehensions of Mankind.  
The Duke was not then a Protestant, because it was the Religion of his Country, or the Stream of the Times. He did not persevere in it, as Men do in those ways, which once espoused, they cannot be persuaded to abandon. He was perfectly acquainted with those Arguments, which evince the Truth of what we believe. This made him inaccessible to the repeated Endeavours of a sort of Men, whose chief care is to creep into Noble Families: And under pretence of winning their Souls to God, get their Estates to themselves: Attempting to corrupt those Consciences which they cannot inform: working upon the Senses and Lusts of Men: And by the imaginary Hopes of this, making them forfeit those of the next World.  
The surest Argument that we are persuaded of the Truth, being to practise what we believe; the DUKE had always a sincere Attachment to any thing that was a part of Religion. He was free from Affectation, Biggottry, and a sort of intemperate Zeal, which is rather a Scandal than a furtherance to Christianity. But of the other side, as exact to the Public and Private Duties of Piety; as if his Life had not been taken up with Military Troubles, but consecrated to Heavenly Cares. It was said of Theodosius, by the Eloquent Bishop of Milan, That his Household had in the Royal Palace of a Prince, the Devotion of a Monastery. Really, the DUKE of SCHONBERG suffered no Vice in his Family; and his way of living, was the best Pattern that could be given his Servants. And as for those Magnificent Offers, which the Court of France made him so often, of Honour and Advancement, if he would be persuaded to Change his Religion: How could he catch at those Bairs, who was ready to venture all that he had in the World, rather than be guilty of so odious a Sin?  
It is an easy thing to talk Eloquently, and even Zealously of Religion. The World is full of Persons who can do it to admiration. But to lose for it Honours, Estates, Dignities; and readily to forsake all that can make our Life pleasing and happy, is given but to few. It is a Virtue of the Primitive times, which ours are seldom capable of. And whether it comes from the stupendious degeneracy of Mankind; or God's anger to us, who gives us over to our Passions; that Heroic temper of Christianity, is almost worn out of the World.  
We saw it revived in this admirable person; who when it came to the point, either to Worship with his Prince in the Temple of Rimmon; or lose not only his Favour, but with it a splendid Fortune; chose rather to suffer affliction with the People of God, than to enjoy the pleasure of Sin for a Season, and esteemed the Reproach of Christ, greater Riches than the Treasures of Egypt.  
When raging Popery, not satisfied with the havoc it had made of the Lives and Fortunes of ordinary Men, durst even attempt Persons of the first Rank; it fixed on the Duke as the grand Object of its Hatred. He was one who could never be brought to humour their Superstitious Follies; or give any hopes of reconciliation to the pretended Infallible See. The natural Character of his Mind, raised him above the Frowns and Caresses of the then Ministers, and as his advancement was not influenced by their Friendship, so he would not owe his preservation to their Pity.  
Nor did ever the Spirit of Jesuitism appear more in its true Colours, than in the Duke's Case; that is, ill natured, hard hearted, and inflexible.  
The remembrance of so many important Services done to France: His indefatigable Zeal in prosecuting the Interests of that Crown: His so often tried Loyalty to their present King in times of distress: The unparallelled Modesty and Wisdom of his Carriage to them of that Religion, could not secure him from their Fury. He must not only cease to live glorious, but even to live at all, except he is Proselyted to the Church of ROME. And the mildest temper that this Charitable Church could find, was, that by a voluntary, he should prevent a forced Banishment.  
Thou didst receive the Blow with intrepidity; and gav'st to all the Members of a Purer Religion, an Example fit for the Primitive times of the Church, than those last days of ours. Thou couldst preserve thy Duty to God in the Engagements of a secular Life; and sacrifice the Interests of thy Fortune, the Felicity of this World, and the Advantages of thy Family, to the Obligations of thy Conscience. Like Holy Eleazar, no Oppression, no Violence, no Rage of a furious Antiochus, could make thee abjure the Laws of thy Fathers; the Pious Customs of thy Ancestors; or the Love of thy People. Thy old Age would not be stained with so foul an Infamy; and give ground to Posterity, to say, that the GREAT SCHONBERG, blemished the Glory and Innocency of his Life, by yielding shamefully to the Promises or Threaten of the Enemies of his God.  
At past seventy years old, THE DUKE saw himself stripped of all that he had in France; and as much as lay in his Enemy's Power, exposed to the wide World. Yet he did not so much as complain of a Government, in which it is hard to say, which is most Eminent, Cruelty, or Treachery? He did not exclaim against the Ingratitude of a Country, which his Valour had rendered both Safe and Glorious. Nor so much as wished the Powers above to punish the extreme injustice of those left in trust below.  
He had scarce left that Kingdom, and thought himself secure from that Barbarous Oppression which leaves nothing unattempted to carry on its Designs; but he fell into a new sort of danger. He was overtaken at Sea by a Storm, which, contrary to the nature of things extremely violent, proved tedious and lasting. Two days and two Nights that Element was in a rage, and mocked both the Pilots skill and the Seaman's endeavours. There was no calm but in the DVKE's Looks, who knowing whence the Blow came, applied himself to divert it. He caused continual Prayers in the Ship, to be made to him who Commands the Waves to be still. That Piety which had supported him in so many dangers, was their Preservation. God seemed to have given him the Souls of these Men. There is none of them that perished, or suffered Injury.  
He is now himself in the Port; free from the Troubles and Agitations of this Life. He has changed the Glories of this World, into the solid Blessings of the other. Whatsoever he did in this, was only in order to that. He has obtained it, and finished a long course of Virtue and Honour. He lives to Posterity, by the large share he has secured to himself of the History of this Age; and his Name cannot be forgotten, so long as Men are capable of admiring great Actions.  
But he has taken a surer way to perpetuate his Memory; and that is by leaving two Sons behind him, who are two exact Copies of that excellent Original. HIS GRACE, CHARLES, now DUKE of SCHONBERG; and the Right Honourable MENAR, Count of SCHONBERG; Persons of that Nobleness of Mind, Reputation in the World, Capacity for Military Affairs, Religion, Conduct, Wisdom, Courage, Sincerity, Candor, and all the Virtues of Men of great Quality, as have already, and will in few Years more, find ample matter for the largest Panegyric.   
FINIS.