CAVENDISH Duke Of NEWCASTLE. Sherlock sculp. A SERMON AT THE FUNERAL OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE Lady JANE Eldest Daughter to his GRACE WILLIAM, Duke of NEWCASTLE, AND Wife to the Honourable CHARLES CHEYNE, Esq At CHELSEY. Novemb. 1. Being All-Saints day. By Adam Littleton, Priest. LONDON, Printed by john Macock, MDCLXIX. PROV. XXXI. 30. Favour is deceitful, and Beauty is vain: but a Woman that feareth the Lord, She shall be Praised. WHO King Lemuel and his Mother, mentioned in the first Verse of this Chapter, were, I shall not undertake to decide; 'Tis agreed on by most Interpreters, that by Lemuel is intended Solomon, who, as Grotius observes, was Octanominis, had eight several Names given him in Scripture, and by his Mother consequently is meant Bathsheba, (thought the same Grotius intimate too, it might be Hezekiah himself, who ordered the Collection of these Proverbs, and his Mother Abijah the Daughter of Zechariah:) and that Lemuel was blanda matris Appellatio, a made word of Kindness to sweeten her motherly Instructions. In the Chapter, that we may come orderly to the Text, there are two main Parts to be observed. I. The Queen Mother's Lesson to the young Prince her Son, in the Nine first Verses. II. The Character of a good Woman, from the 10. verse to the end. Which if it be but the continuation of the Mother's Lecture, is then a Direction to him how to choose a Wife: but if we take it for a Composure of Solomon's, than 'twill be a dutiful Return of the Son to his Mother's Instructions, in a large Commendation of her Wisdom and Care; wherein he sets her forth as the Pattern of her Sex, and pleats Laudum Corollam, a Garland and Imperial Wreath of Praises for his Mother's Royal Head. Be this Good Woman then, in the History, Bathsheba, or Abijah, or (as the Popish Expositors turn it) the Blessed Virgin; be she, in the Allegory, the Church, or any pious Soul: it cannot be denied, but that even Literally it belongs, and may properly be applied to any Good Virtuous Woman whatsoever of the whole Sex; who is here Commended through all the Letters of the Hebrew Christ-cross-row: This being Carmen Alphabeticum in Laudes Bonae Foeminae, an Alphabetical Poem in the Praise of a Good Woman. And though the whole of the Description be Praise; yet we may take a distinct notice of two Particulars contained in this Poem. I. Her Properties or Virtues, reckoned up all along to the 28. verse. II. Her Praise more Emphatically expressed in the very Close, the four last Verses. Her Virtues, to give you a brief Summary of them, are Her Conjugal Fidelity; verse 11. Her Kindness and Constancy of Affection; verse 12. Her Housewifery and Diligence; v. 13. 19 Her Thrift and Menage; verse 15, 16. Her Industry and Assiduity; vers. 17, 18. Her Charity and Liberality to the Poor; verse 20. Her Providence and Forecast; verse 21. Her Magnificence in her Furniture and Apparel; verse 22. Her Reputation in Public; V. 23. 25. Her Traffic and Credit abroad; in Selling, v. 24. in Buying, v. 16. and in both, v. 14. Her Discretion and Obligingness in her Discourse; v. 26. Her Care of Home, and good Government of her Family; v. 27. Her Praise to these many Virtues is threefold. 1. At Home, by her Husband and Children; who do not speak out of Flattery, but as having been constant Witnesses of her Virtuous Carriage, ver. 28. commending her in this form of words, ver. 29. Many Daughters have done Virtuously, but Thou excellest them all. 2. Pro Rostris, solemnly out of the Pulpit, in the words of the Text: for so She shall be praised, implies a solemn Commemoration of her Virtues, and an Encomiastic Harangue upon her Person. 3. For an everlasting Memorial of her, throughout the whole Country, where she lived: common Fame shall do her that right; in the last Verse, Her own Works shall praise her in the Gates: to wit, among the Elders of the Land, as 'tis ver. 23. among the Nobles and Rulers of the Kingdom; Persons of the highest Place and greatest Quality. Our present business is that Part of her Praise, which is to be performed in this place: whereto, as I have always accounted it no mean Advantage of my life to have been known to a Person of so eminent a Worth and Goodness; so I find myself somewhat enabled by that personal Knowledge for a fair discharge of the Duty of this Hour, without being much beholden either to public Report, or private Information: though the Whole almost, of what I have to say, will be That too, which All, that hear me, will readily back with their Testimony. To come to the business then; the Virtuous Woman's Commendation here is expressed, I. Negatively, or, if you will, Comparatively. Favour is deceitful, and Beauty is vain. II. Positively: But a Woman that feareth the Lord, She shall be Praised. As if he had said, Favour and Beauty are Idle, Insignificant, sorry, mean, toyish Things, that deserve not serious Commendation, at least are not fit to come in Competition with Virtue and Discretion and Piety, which are the truly Laudable Qualities, and make the only durable lasting Foundation, to erect a Monument of Praise upon. 'Tis indeed the Humour and Custom of wanton loose Wits, to Court the Beautiful, to Commend the Fair, and the Gay ones in their Sonnets; and to make Eulogies upon them, while they are Living, and Elegies when Dead: but alas! Those are poor Subjects in comparison of the Good and Virtuous; and when those Poet's Laurels and their Mistress' Praises too shall be blasted by Truth, and withered by Time, the Woman that fears the Lord, the Pious Lady, the Virtuous Matron shall be Praised on still, and her Memory ever continue fresh and green. We shall, to clear our way for the proving Virtue the alone Praiseworthy thing, show the Deceit & Vanity of those other two Candidates for Praise. Favour and Beauty. Favour, in the Original, Grace, that is, the gracefulness of Habit, Gesture, Gate, Discourse, and the Attractives of a handsome Carriage, so as to gain Beholder's Love; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 say the Septuagint, the Complaisances of Conversation, which do readily procure people's Favour and good Opnion. Ag in, Beauty in the Symmetry and Proportion of Parts, in the Feature and Complexion; That which strikes the Eye and affects the Heart. And yet both these deceitful and vain; for these Reasons. 1. As Frail and Subject to Decay, whether in their own Nature, (or which is all one as to the Praise and Esteem of them) in the Opinions of Men. The Fairest Face is as brittle, as the Glass it views itself in, and is at best thus but a Miroir of Beauty, and when broken with Age or marred by Disease, becomes a Looking-glass of Mortality. The distinction betwixt Beauty and Deformity is quite lost in the Grave, and many times before they come there. Besides, These are things, that owe their Estimate to the Opinion of men, and not to any Intrinsic Value; which is therefore as mutable and uncertain as Opinion, which 'tis built upon. And this cries up one thing to day, another to morrow. Thamar, after Amnons' wicked satisfaction, was as Unpleasing in his eyes, as she was Fair before. Nay, the Text says, that the Hatred, wherewith he hated her, was greater than the love, wherewith he had loved her. And it appears so by his usage of her; for a Friend was employed to bring her in, but a Servant served to turn her out, and bolt the door after her. 2. As things that may be Counterfeited and put on. These are many times but ascititious Ornaments: when Art is taught to supply the defects, and to repair the decays of Nature. Nor is Beauty alone thus false, when some through a Fantastic Pride or some worse Distemper, walk as if they were their own sepulchers, Painted; but Favour or Grace itself may be abused to meretricious ends; whilst in a demure Aspect, and a graceful Behaviour, it may be difficult to distinguish betwixt a Courtesan, and a Matron, betwixt the strange woman and the woman that fears the Lord. 3. As they prove too frequently Occasions of Evil, and Incentives to Lust. This is indeed Fallax Gratia, a deceitful Favour, which leads into Temptation, and a vain Beauty which ensnares and betrays the Soul. Thus some of the Fathers tell us, the Angels themselves were surprised with the Beauty of the daughters of men; from whom came the Impious race of Giants. Some Holy persons have upon this consideration been remarkably Severe to themselves, mischieving their Bodies to secure their Souls, and preferring a Voluntary Deformity before an Involuntary Temptingness. Matthew of Westminster tells us, that in the year of Christ 870. when the Danes were got into this Island, St. Ebb with all her Nuns of Colingham did all by one consent cut off their noses and upper lips, to discourage wicked Attempts, and to preserve their Chastity: which disappointment so enraged the Danes, that, turning their Lust into Cruelty, they burned them all alive together with their Abbey. And Vincentius Bellovacensis tells us of another English Nun, who being for her lovely Eyes coveted of one of the King Richards, and by him demanded of the Convent, got both her Eyes plucked out, and sent them to him, as a Present, in a Dish; with this Compliment, that her Eyes were at the King's service, but her Heart was to be only Christ's. This was very close to the Letter; If thine Eye offend thee, pull it out. O dangerous Beauty, which dost so hazard Virtue, when 'tis in thy company! O unfortunate Virtue, that art thus fain to wound and mangle thyself, that thou may'st be kept Entire! However, notwithstanding this deceitfulness and vanity, Those Advantages of good Carriage and a Courteous Behaviour, of Beauty, and a graceful Aspect, are not absolutely to be condemned, or to be at all disparaged by us, where God gives them; they being Blessings, as they come from his Hand. And Virtue and Piety itself doth by this means oftentimes meet with a fair Respect, and a kindly Welcome in the World; a good Face and an ingenuous Address being a kind of potent Recommendation even to Strangers, who will be ready to think the Face a good Index of the Mind; and a fair composed Body a suitable lodging for a Beauteous Soul. So I know not how, Virtue having Favour and Beauty for its Attendants and Maids of Honour, appears more Serene, and yet no less Majestic; and does more plausibly insinuate its Aw and Veneration into people's minds. Nor is our Virtuous Woman here wanting in these Embellishments, which may be requisite either to her Sex or State; but is like the Merchant's Ships, to which she is compared in the 14th ver. even in this Sense, that she is not without her Tackle and Ornaments. We find in the 22d ver. that her Clothing is Silk and Purple: she goes in good Habit, in a rich and fashionable Garb, and ver. 26. that she openeth her Mouth with Wisdom; and in her Tongue is the law of Kindness: she charms all she Converses with, and wins them with her Discourse. But then she prizes these Advantages under these three Conditions. 1. Not so as ambitiously to seek them, or fond to Vaunt them. She would not borrow a Complexion from her Boxes; but, what S t Nazianzen says of his Sister Gorgonia in her Funeral Oration, likes that Red best, which she owes to a blushing Modesty, and that White or Pale, which comes by a severe Abstinenee. 2. Not so as to be Proud of them, or to Rely upon them as solid goods. Beauty is a thing but skin-deep, and at best is but a Setoff, no real Substance. Piety is her alone Confidence, and Virtue designed for the Pillar of her Praise; whereon her fair Name shall be engraved in legible Characters to succeeding Generations. 3. Not so as to Mis-imploy them, but to Guide them with Virtue and Discretion. She likes a Cheerful, but would not have it a tempting Look. She composes herself all over exactly to Innocence, and then makes that very Innocence all over Complaisant: and above all things takes care, that Beauty may not be her Crime, and that the Fair Vessel, her Soul is Embarked in, may not want a good Pilot, a Virtuous Mind to Govern it. And this for the Negative or Comparative Part, that Favour and Beauty are not of themselves Things commendable in Women, any further than they are accompanied and managed by Discretion and Virtue. We come now to the Position, which is that a Woman, which feareth the Lord, she shall be Praised. In which Proposition we have, 1. The Subject; a Woman, with her Qualification; that fears the Lord. 2. The Predicate; She shall be Praised. WOMAN, in the primitive design of Nature, God's Masterpiece, being the last work of Creation, and made with a great deal of Deliberation and Solemnity. For to look upon her as a Supernumerary Creature, and one brought into the world by the By, besides the Creator's first Intention, upon second Thoughts (though Those too amongst us Men, with whose methods it pleases God out of condescension to comply, pass for the Wisest) is to lay a foul Imputation upon Divine Wisdom, as if it had been at a stand, and were to seek. Wherefore, as we use to argue, that All things were made for the use and service of Man; because He was made Last of all: I do not see, if that Argument be good, why the same Consequence should not be of like force here too, that Man himself was made for the service and affectionate Care of the Woman, who was framed not only after him, but out of him too, the more to Engage his tenderest, and dearest Respects. Certainly this manner of Production doth plainly evince the Equality of the Woman's Merits and Rights with Man; she being a noble Cyon transplanted from his Stock, and by the Mystery of Marriage Implanted into him again, and made One with him. She is then Equally at least partaker with him of all the Advantages, which appertain to Humane Nature, and alike Capable of those Improvements, which by the Efforts of Reason and the Methods of Education and the Instincts of the Blessed Spirit are to be made upon it, and no less fitted in her natural Ingeny for all kind of Studies and Employments: though Custom, like a Salic Law, hath excluded them from Public Offices and Professions; and confined them mostly to the narrow Territories of Home. Our Virtuous Woman here, besides her Oeconomical Government (wherein her Husband's cares are not concerned) plays the Purchaser and the Merchant, ver. 16. and 24. though too, whilst her Husband is sitting in the gates among the Elders of the Land, ver. 23. her hands are holding the distaff at home, ver. 19 A Learned Woman of Vtrecht, has in a Printed Discourse fairly in this behalf vindicated the Reputation of her Sex. Nor are there wanting Illustrious Examples of Those, who for Achievements in Arms and Attainments of Arts have not come short of the Bravest Men; and lest behind them signal proofs, that their Minerva can upon occasion, as well wield the Sword, and manage the Pen, as lay her hands to the Spindle. One Instance out of our own History will be sufficient; Elizabeth of Happy Memory, who 44 years together swayed the Sceptre of this Realm, with as much Repute as ever any of her Predecessors did, and through all her Reign showed at once the Spirit and Resolution of her Father, and the Policy and Wisdom of her Grandfather, without their Vices. Hence it was, that all Arts and Sciences, all Virtues and Graces, both Divine and Moral, are represented in the shape and Habit of Women. Nor is there any reason for fancying Angels themselves more of Our Sex then of the Other; since amongst them there's no such Distinction, but they may be as well imagined Female, as Male. Above all, for Piety and Devotion, which is the Top-perfection of our Nature, and makes it most like Angelical, as the Capacity of Women is as large, so their Inclinations are generally more vigorous; the natural Bias and Tendency of their Spirits lying that way, and their softer Temper more kindly receiving the supernatural Impressions of God's Spirit. This is That, if any thing, which gives their Sex the Preeminence above us Men, and gains them just advantages of Praise; that, whereas Those, who have only a handsome Shape and good Features to command them, are Adored and Idolised by persons of slight Apprehensions and ungoverned Passions; Pious and Virtuous Women command the Veneration of the most Judicious, and are deservedly Admired by Holy Men and Angels. Hereupon S t jerom, though no Friend to a Married life, yet seemed to pride himself in his Acquaintance with Virtuous Women, and made so many Addresses to Religious Ladies, that those very Epistles and Missives of His, which wear Female Names, would make a competent Volume of themselves. And our Blessed Lord himself has in his History honoured Them with a frequent mention, as his ordinary Associates and constant Attendants. Thus the Woman who feareth the Lord shall be praised. That's the Qualification; She that feareth the Lord: for that is the right Virtuous Woman, in the 10. ver. whose price is far above Rubies. But there we have an Objection, which I must first take out of the way: Where shall we meet with such an One? Who can find a Virtuous Woman? I can speak it with as much Truth, as I must speak it with Sorrow, we have lost One; for by all the Description, if there be such an One to be found, This was She. But this Question does not import an Impossibility, but only the Difficulty of finding her. He had in vain taken all this pains to describe her so at large, if there be no such Person to be found. There are sure such Women; more perhaps then Men, as Men are now, deserve there should be; and as they are extraordinary Blessings, so they that Fear God shall meet with them. 'Tis shrewdly Observed by one, that the reason of their Paucity proceeds from us Men. Men being generally so Evil, as they are, make Women generally not so good, as they would be. For at that time of the World, when Men prized Virtue, and made that the Standard of their Affection and the Sole Object of their Choice; when Discretion and Goodness were looked on as the Taking things, and Piety alone, was accounted a sufficient Portion; then in that Golden Age, the great Emulation of that Sex was, who should weigh most in real Deserts, and come best Dowried with those desirable Qualities, when Wives were to be bid for, and purchased at considerable Rates. But now since the Scales have been turned, and love has been brought into the Market, that Virtue and good Education are undervalved, and Wealth is become the Lovely Thing, and all the Shafts of men's Destres are Tipped with Gold and Silver; or else by Some that lay their Judgements aside, and let their Fancy choose for them, Beauty is made the Mark, and so there be a fair inviting Outside, no regard had to the Inward disposition of the Mind; 'twas Consequent that Women also should grow more negligent of Virtue, and apply themselves more particularly to those Things, for which they were to be prized and esteemed by Men. And yet there are still, notwithstanding this Degeneracy of Manners, such Women to be found of the Primitive Stamp; who, though they may, in common Civility to Vulgar Error, comply in sinless Fashions and Modes, and in the Innocent Ceremonies of life (taken up by Others peradventure, to ill Ends, in these corrupt Ages) yet do make it their main Employ to enrich and beautify their Minds, and bestow most of their Time in the Culture and Adornments of their Souls. To find them out, let us Examine the Character, by which the Hue and Cry is made. She, whom we call the Virtuous Woman, goes amongst the Interpreters under several names. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 [Esheth Hhaïl] say some, a Stout Valiant Woman; so the French, une Vaillante Femme: a Virago, one fit to lead an Army; so that, as it follows in the next verse, her Husband shall have no need of Spoil. Fear being so natural to this Sex. it looks like Miracle to meet with such an One; and yet we read there have been whole Nations of Them: Witness the Amazonian Courage, and the valour of the Spartan Ladies. Others, strenuain & sedulam, a busy Industrious Woman, one of a stirring active Spirit. A Woman of Wealth and Riches, says Aben Ezra, which is not One of a great Portion; for Then there was no such Custom; but one that by Industry and good Managery got Wealth: so in the verse before the Text she is commended in the Margin of our Bibles, Many Daughters have gotten Riches, but Thou surpassest them all. A right good Virtuous Woman, so the Chaldee: one that in her Carriage and Actions shows that she has the Fear of God in Her. A Discreet Wise Woman, say Others; or as an ancient Armenian Copy has it, one of a Sound Brain, and a good Understanding: and this falls in with the Fear of God here, which, the Wise Son and the Pious Father both tell us, is the Beginning, or, as the Hebrew word imports, the Sum Total of Wisdom. And they have a good Understanding that Do thereafter. This fear of God doth not only Contract, but Dilate the Heart too, laying Restraints indeed upon the Conscience from Sin, but withal Enlarging the powers of the Soul to all kind of Duty: for 'tis an Ingenuous Filial Fear, that has a very quick sense and tender Apprehension of God's Displeasure, and makes her wary of offending him, either in Doing any thing that should not be done, or Omitting aught that should. 'Tis not a Fear then, that ariseth from the Weakness and Imbecility of Female Constitution, which renders them more apt to Devotion; but is very well consistent with that Valour and Courage, which the 70, and other Interpreters make the great Ingredient of the Character, Imboldning us and putting us on to Do or Suffer any thing for God's sake. And we may consider it Two Ways. 1. In the Root and Principle. 2. In the Branches and Productions. In the Principle, 'tis a Reverential Fear, which composes the Inner man to becoming Thoughts and awful Apprehensions of God, and obliges the Heart close to him with Silken Cords, and binds up all the Affections, that they may not run loose after Vanities, but fixes them upon Heavenly things, and suits all the Passions of Humane Nature in a fit and constant Correspondence to the Attributes of the Divine; so as to Love him for his Goodness, Admire him for his Wisdom, Dread him in his Power, stand in Aw of his justice, take Delight in the remembrance of his Mercies, and at last to be swallowed up into Him in the Contemplation of his Infiniteness, in all These. In its Operations, that is, in all the Actions of Life; for, like the Warp, it runs through the whole Web of all Her Duties; it Tutors the Senses, and puts all the Members in Array, and orders the Outward man into an answerable Decorum to the Inward; that her Looks, her Speech, her very Gesture and Carriage, prove innocent Expressions of honest Meanings, and a Virtuous Mind; and all the Phaenomena and outward Appearances of Her in her Conversation are but the natural Representments of her Bright Spotless Ingenuous Soul, the fair Inmate of a rightly Disciplined and well Ordered Body. The Fear of God than comprehends in it all Religious Worship, both Internal and External: nor doth it consist in an hypocritical Demureness, and a distantial Pride, or supercilious Contempt of others, but in a sincere Humility to God, and Charity to Men; when, which is the Virtuous Woman's Practice, what with Church and Closet on the one side, to which she always pays a regular Attendance; and her Family on the other, which she is always, what with Instruction, what with Example, looking after, She is continually Employed, and divides her Time betwixt the Offices of a Cheerful Devotion and the Duties of an Indearing Converse. Now certainly if there be such a Reward as Praise appointed for the Pious, if Honour hath its Temple adjoined to that of Virtue; then this Pious Virtuous Woman, here mentioned, must be reckoned the truly Honourable Woman, and will deserve to have her Grave strowed with Roses and Violets, and her Memory crowned with Flowery Chaplets and Myrtle Wreaths of fragrant and lasting Praises. That's the Next thing we have to do; She shall be Praised. It is a Morose Humour in some, even Ministers; that they will not give a due Commendation to the Deceased: whereby they not only offer a seeming Unkindness to the Dead, but do a real Injury to the Living, by discouraging Virtue, and depriving us of the great Instruments of Piety, good Examples; which usually are far more effectual Methods of Instruction, than any Precepts; These commonly urging only the Necessity of those Duties, which the Other show the Possibility and Manner of Performing. But then 'tis a most Unchristian and Uncharitable Mistake in those, that think it unlawful to Commemorate the Dead, and to Celebrate their Memories: whereas there is no one thing does so much uphold and keep up the Honour and Interest of Religion amongst the Multitude, as the due Observance of those Anniverssaries, which the Church has, upon this Account, scattered throughout the whole course of the Year, would do: and indeed to our Neglect of this in a great Part the present Decay of Religion may rationally be Imputed. Thus in this Age of ours what Pliny saith of His, Postquàm desiimus facere laudanda, Laudari quoque ineptum putamus. Since People have left off doing things that are Praiseworthy, they look upon Praise itself as a silly thing. And possibly the Generality of Hearers themselves are not free from this Fault; who peradventure may Fancy their Own Life Upbraided, when they hear Another's Commended. But that the servants of God, which depart this life in his Faith and Fear, may and must be Praised, I shall endeavour to make good upon these three Grounds. 1. In common justice to the Deceased themselves. Ordinary Civility teaches us to speak well of the Dead. Nec quicquam Sanctius habet Reverentia Superstitum, quam ut Amissos Venerabiliter Recordetur; says Ausonius, and makes this the ground of the Parentalia, which had been ever since Numa's time. Praise, however it may become the Living, is a just Debt to the deserts of the Dead, who are now got clear out of the reach of Envy; which, if it have any thing of the Generous in it, will scorn, Vultur-like to pray upon Carcase. Besides, Christianity lays a greater Obligation upon us; The Communion of Saints is a Tenet of our Faith. Now as we ought not to Pray To them or For them, so we may and must Praise them. This is the least we can do in Return for those great Offices they did the Church Militant, while they were with Us, and now do, they are with God: nor have we any other probable way of Communicating with them. The Philosopher in his Morals makes it a Question, whether the Dead are any way Concerned in what befalls Them or their Posterity after their Decease; and whether those Honours and Reproaches, which Survivers cast upon them, reach them or no? and He concludes it after a long debate in the Affirmative: not so, he says, as to alter their State, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to contribute to it. Tully, though not absolutely persuaded of an Immortal Soul, as speaking doubtfully and variously of it, yet is constant to this, that He takes a good Name and a Reputation, we leave behind us, to be a kind of Immortality. But there is more in it then so: Our Remembrance of the Saints may be a Means to Improve their Bliss, and Heighten their Rewards to all Eternity. Abraham, the Father of the Faithful, hath his Bosom thus daily Enlarged for New Comers. Whether the Heirs of the Kingdom are at their first Admission Instated into a full Possession of all their Glory, and kept to that Stint; I think may be a Doubt. For if the Faculty be perfected by the Object, about which 'tis Conversant; then the Faculties of those Blessed Ones being continually Employed upon an Infinite Object, must needs be Infinitely Perficible, and Capable still of being more and more Enlarged, and consequently of receiving still new and further Additions of Glory. Nor only so (This is in Heaven:) but even the Influence of that Example, they leave behind them on Earth, drawing still more and more Souls after them to God, will also add to those Improvements to the End of the World, and bring in a Revenue of Accessary joys. And would it not be Unjust in us then to deny them those Glorious Advantages, which our Commemoration and Imitation may and aught to give them? 2. In a due Acknowledgement of God's Gifts and Graces. The Praise of his Servants redounds to his Glory; as Water rises to the same height it had in its Wellspring. The Father of Lights gives order, that Our Light, which he communicates to us, may so shine, that men may see our good Works and Glorify Him: nor has he only annexed to our Temporal Services an Eternal weight of Glory hereafter; but even here in this World is content we should go Shares with him, and be made Partakers of that Glory, we bring into his Infinite Stock. The Servant was justly condemned, that put his Master's Talon in a Napkin, and buried it under ground: nor would our Ingratitude be less Inexcusable, should we in silence bury those Gifts he has bestowed upon any his Eminent Servants, that have by his Grace well Employed them, and wrap up the Memories of his Saints in the same shroud with their Bodies. Lastly, For the Benefit of the Living; and that two Ways: for their Instruction, and for their Comfort. For the Instruction of all that are to come After, 'tis fit the lives of those that have gone Before should be Remembered. 'Tis not enough to have a Map of the Country we are Travelling to, unless we have experienceed Guides, whose Conduct and Directions we may safely follow. Our way to Heaven does not lie so ready and plain, that we cannot Miss it; and here 'tis dangerous to trust to our own Judgement, and (which was one kind of ancient Superstition) to resolve ourselves as our Staff falls: but our surest Course will be, to observe the Track of others Footsteps, and walk in their Faith, and go on in the beaten Road of Holy Examples, for fear of being either led aside into the untrodden By-paths of Schism and Separation, or carried along in the broad Highway of Profaneness with the mistaking Multitude. As in a Voyage by Sea the skilful Pilot, though he consult his Card, and steer by his Compass, yet he neglects not the Discoveries, other Navigators have made, that have sailed those Seas, and given notice of Rocks and Shelves, and described the Coasting and Rhumbs of the whole Course. Example gives life to a Rule, makes it Intelligible and Practicable. God's bare Commanding us to do any thing is a sufficient Obligation to Obedience; but when by Others he shows us How 'tis to be done, this as it renders it more Easy to Obey, so it puts our Disobedience past all Excuse. For the Comfort of Survivers that stay behind, the Virtues and Praises of their Deceased friends are to be Recounted; that they may not Mourn and hang down the Head with Despondence, as having no Hope. It was the Custom of some Barbarous Nations upon the very consideration of the Troubles of this Life, from which Death sets us Free, to attend their Dead with solemn Shouts and Expressions of Joy: but We, who have better Assurances, when any of our Relations are delivered from the Sins and Miseries of a Wicked and Wretched World, have much greater reason to Rejoice in their behalf, if by the Testimony of a good Life they have confirmed those blessed Expectations, Upon which the Hinge of all Religion turns. For in that we Grieve, 'tis for our Own sakes, not for Theirs. 'Tis Our loss, we Lament. They are infinitely Advantaged by the Change. Why then should we repine at their Advancement, with them back to their Hurt, and be discontented for the want of their Company, who, as St. Paul says in another case, are therefore Departed for a season, that we may Receive them for ever, if We by following their good Example be found worthy to be Admitted to Them. If it be a Kindness to Them, that our Hearts are touched with, we should rather, according to the Apostle's Rule, Rejoice with them that Rejoice, and not Weep over them, since all Tears are now wiped away from their Eyes. 'Tis usual in great transports of Joy for Tears to burst out: and such should be our Tears over Those, that by Living well Learned and Practised to Die Well, to flow from Joy as well as Sorrow; and our joy that they are in Heaven should far exceed the Grief we show for their leaving Earth. I have read of Parents, that, when their Sons have returned Conquerors from the Olympic Games, could not master their Resentments, but have died with excessive Joy. Now, in a Christian sense, to have fought a good Fight, and with a Victorious Faith to overcome the World, how much more considerable a Conquest is it, and how does it deserve our most concerned Joys? That in any Friend's case, that Dies thus, it would become us to say what S. Thomas did, when word was brought of Lazarus his death, Come let us go, and Dye with him. It was Kindly said, and perhaps not Fond neither. For certainly the most exquisite Felicities of Life are not Comparable to the Advantage of a Holy Death. Let us then upon such Occasions, (as we use, when any Friend altars his Condition to the Better, to Wish him joy;) Gratulate those that Dye thus in the Lord; not consider what We have Lost, but what they have Gained; and join with Them in singing Hallelujahs, Praising them, and Praising God for them, and Praising God with them. Praise is a Cheerful Exercise; wherefore let me Entreat, that those Noble Friends and Relations, who have any Share in this day's Loss, whilst I practically Apply to the Duty of the Text in Praising this Honourable Virtuous Woman before us, would lay aside their own Concerns, and be Comforted, as they do mean heartily to Join with me in the Acknowledgement of her Praises. I would not detain you long, I need not. All that has been, or may be said of the Virtuous Woman, belongs to Her. To say all that might be said, would not be the Business of an Hour, but of Days and Weeks. The bare Relation of her Life would make the best Panegyric. I shall gather it up as close as I can, that it may be both Brief and Useful: and That according to our former Method, where we treated of the Fear of God, which is here given as Her Character. First as to Principle; the Candour of Her Disposition, the Sweetness of her Nature, and the Evenness of her Temper, whereof throughout her whole Life she gave Innumerable Demonstrations. And certainly Good Nature (however some Ill-natured People, who would pass for the most strictly Religious, may declaim against It and all Morality) is the best Seed-plot for Piety and all Virtue to thrive in; the Kindliest Soil for the Fruits of the Spirit, Meekness, joy, Patience, Gentleness, Long-suffering, Loving kindness, etc. which were abundantly seen in all the Instances of her Conversation. Now because much of This may seem to be Extracted from the Parents, and by Lineal Descent to be derived from the Family; (For Forts creantur Fortibus, & Boni Bonis. Virtues and good Qualities likely run in a Blood) I must so far mention Her Pedigree, as to give the True Blazonry of her Virtues. She was Eldest Daughter to His Grace the Duke of Newcastle, a Person of no less Excellence in His Merit and in His Nature, than he is in his Title; One that has been the most Illustrious Example in all the three Nations of an Acting and Suffering Loyalty. To him, besides His other vast Deserts, the World owed this Excellent Lady; who being powerfully inclined by Instinct and Duty, and Choice to be like Her Noble Father, did so Naturally Resemble Him, and so Affectionately Imitate Him, that She represented the lively Characters of his Soul as well as Feature. Nor must I omit her Pious Mother, a Lady of most Exemplary Charities, from whom She received the first Elements of her Virtuous Education; and Her Noble Grandmother, the Lady Ogle, whose Daring she was; who, to this Lady JANE did in her life and at her death give particular Testimonies of an extraordinary Affection, which were often gratefully remembered and repeated by Her. From these Advantages of Birth, that Natural Principle of Goodness flowed, which being Enlarged by the Moral accessions of Noble Breeding, and Impregnated with Holy Exercises, and the Influences of God's good Spirit, streamed into all the Faculties of her Soul; by which she became the Absolute Governess of Her own Mind. She had that Command of Her Passions, that it might be questioned, whether she had Any. Anger and She were so utter Strangers, that the very Expressions of Dislike from Her were Obliging. Greatness and Goodness of Mind kept her Soul always in an equal Poise, so that she could never fancy an Injury or an Ill meaning from any one, or be upon any Provocation Exceptious. She knew herself so Innocent and Good, that she deserved no Ill, and therefore suspected none; and withal She was of so Generous and Great a Spirit, that unkindnesses, if intended, could not reach Her. So that as on the one hand no body (she believed) would wrong Her, if they could; so on the other, (she resolved) they should not, if they would. Her soft yielding Compliance backed with Magnanimity was like polished Marble, smooth and strong. She was seated above the clouded Atmosphere of Worldly Joys and Troubles, even while she was Here; and had wrought Herself to a perfect Indifference and unconcernedness in all things, but Her Service of God, and Kindness to her Friends. She had no Value for the World, nor Over-value for Herself, who was one of the Best Parts of it. For as Her Worth had set Her Even with the Greatest; so Her Humility placed Her familiarly with the Meanest: and yet this attended with so natural a Becomingness, that her very Humility exalted her, and her Condescensions made her the more Venerable and Highly Esteemed. Where the Passions are kept in this Aw and Order, the Superior Faculties, being clear and undisturbed, must needs exercise all their Functions aright. She took, when Young, special delight in her Father's Excellent Composures. And she hath left in Writing a considerable Stock of Excellent ones of Her own, ever spending the time that best pleased Her with her Pen. Above all, Reading of good Discourses and making of Pious Meditations were Her chief and daily Employment: to which and to Her Devotions she was so Constant, that, as she hath filled some Volumes with the One; so for the Other, from her Youth to her late Deathbed she failed not of Prayer (as I am Informed) thrice a day; and if Morning or Noon happened to be omitted, She would make amends at Night, and then to be sure even that Account. Herein lay her solid Satisfaction, in Conversing thus with God, that She looked upon all Occasions, that Interrupted That, as Impertinent and Uneasy; and if She had any Quarrel to this Place, 'twas this, the Multitude of Formal Visits, which she could not avoid receiving from London and returning, that took off her time from these Spiritual Exercises. This as to her Principle. Then as to the Emanations of It to the Eye and Observation of the World, for we have as yet been but in the Closet. In her Maiden-state; Of her Infant-years, which were spent at Welbeck, (a place that bears the Proportion and Resemblance of a Court) under the Tuition of her Father and Mother, we have already spoken. We shall now treat of her more Adult Virtues. What Courage and Loyalty, as the right Daughter of a General, as the Valiant Woman here spoken of, did she show, in keeping the Garrisoned House of her Father, where she was left with One of her Noble Sisters, as a Sharer, in her Virtues and the Misfortunes of Ill times (the Other being before that Time Happily bestowed) amongst the Horrid Circumstances of War, till taken by the Enemy, and there made their Prisoners? What Gallantry of Charity at the Retaking it by the King's Forces, when She became Petitioner to save her Iaylor's life, whose Treatments, though not Barbarous, yet had been much short of such Civilities, as to Persons of their Age, Tenderness, and Quality were due? What Patience and Magnanimity in all the Disasters of Her Loyal Family; Her Mother's Death, the Loss of my Lord's Army, his leaving England, His and her Brother's Banishment after and Proscription, and the Seizure of all their Fortunes, beside Her own Personal Sufferings and Unsettlements? What Duty and Piety, when after the Fifths were procured, She was enabled to become Solicitor for her Father and Brothers, when Loyalty was so Criminal, that nothing less would serve then to Except them from Life: when with all Her early Diligences, and Attendances, and Petitioning, how humbly and closely soever prosecuted, She could not prevail for Her Father; Her Brothers only with much difficulty had Pardon for Life? And then when things were grown to that Extremity, that All that could be had from an Enemy was too scant a Support for Her Banished Father. (I have it from an Excellent Hand, that with great Obligingness gives this Account in Print) She converted Her own Peculium of Jewels and Plate (which her Father and Grandmother had given Her) into moneys, and sent it over a Token of Affectionate Duty. Nor stopped Her Duty here, but She continued it together with her Obedience to her Married state: having resolved without his Leave and Consent not to change her Condition; nor so neither, without a Liberty from her Intended Husband, out of that Fortune, Her Father's Nobleness had designed Her, to make him a considerable Present (so I find it Nobly Acknowledged by the same Excellent Authoress) of which His Grace (I understand) soon after his Restauration no less obligingly with greatest Kindness of all generous and endearing Expressions Ordered a liberal Return. And then with what Condescending Prudence and judicious Moderation did She make her Choice, when having through the Iniquity of the Times observed the Desolation made in the Greatest Families, and the little Choice then amongst those Few left of the Higher Nobility, (for She resolved to match with no Family, which had ill-treated her King and Father, how advantageous soever) She suiting her Judgement to her Inclination accepted a Gentleman, yet One (besides His othet Accomplishments, and the Merit of his most Affectionate Respects) of an Ancient Family and a very Noble Descent, with whose Principles and Fortune She persuaded herself of Content. And she found That persuasion did not deceive Her, having here in Chelsey lived these 14 years and few Months, as Well to Her own, as to the great Satisfaction and Joy of every Body else that knew Her. How willing She ever was to Oblige all persons; how Ready to all good Offices; how Meek, and Humble, and Charitable, and Familiarly Courteous to Neighbours and all others, let Fame, let Envy itself speak. Of her Charity to this Place I question not but we shall see in a short Time some fair Testimonies erected. Her Devotions she loved particularly to make out in Observing the Fasts of the Church, as much and as oft, as the tenderness of Her Constitution could well permit. Next to Reading and Writing she delighted much in her Needle, and hath left great quantities of Work to her Children. This in short the account of her Life in its Healthful time. We come at last to the sad Scene of her Sickness and Death, wherein it pleased a good God in some measure to answer her desires (who had always a tender Apprehension for Pain) that, though the Fits to sorrowful Bystanders seemed not to be without Pang and Agony, yet were graciously Alleviated to Her by a Surprise of her Senses, for the time, and That so Gentle too, as never to cause any Disorder or Indecency. Nor after the Fits, at the return of Spirits, sufficient to give Her liberty of Speech, did She ever (except two of her four last days) complain of Pain, which was then violent in her Head, but even then and at all other times of her Sickness, while She had Speech, She used it most in Devotion, and in many gentle cheerful and obliging Expressions to her Husband, Children, Doctors, and other her mournful Assistants. Particularly in the Three week's Interval, She had, when there were very good hopes of her Recovery, She used often to say, That though she resigned up Herself wholly to the wise disposal of a good God, yet She being in expectation of being called away in her first Fits, looked upon her Recovery as a gracious kind of Disappointment (they were Her own Words) by God Almighty. This She did (She said) not out of Discontent at her Sickness, which she thankfully acknowledged tolerable Easie, but (as having conquered this World, and being now in her Passage to a Better) out of her intuition of a glorious Crown, that, She trusted, awaited her in Heaven. Now, now, was the Time, when all the Powers of Her Soul, all Her Virtues and Graces were Summoned together, with united force to make up the Complin of her Devotions; wherein she Professed, to the Equal Comfort and Grief of Those that heard Her, her Confidence in God, her patient Submission to Him, her Holy Resignation, her Indifference to Life, and her Preparedness to Die. Of which, amongst many others, there were two Remarkable Instances. One to a Reverend Father of our Church, whom she told with great Unconcernedness, as he was discoursing piously to Her, That she was not afraid to Die; not that she had or feared any Trouble or Discontent here, but that she might Enjoy the Blessings of that Better World. The Other to Her sad and afflicted Husband, whom, as He was at her Bedside praying to God, that he would restore Her again to Health, that she might Live and Glorify him, when those, that went down into the Pit, could not Praise him; she stopped Him in his Prayer, and with a comfortable Look and strong Voice (though a great difficulty of Speech had some time before possessed Her) said, She would Glorify God, whether she lived or died: and then recommended her Children to His Care: Who as He did in all her sickness out of a strong Sympathy of Love, suitable to His constant Tenderness and Her great Merit, entertain all her Ills with quicker and deeper Resentments (if we may consider Those as Two, who were so nearly One) then if they had been His Own; that those Epileptic and Convulsive Fits, which seized Her Brain, did at the same time seize His Heart: so after Her Dissolution and the Departure of His Better Soul, He finds no Reason to live, no Joy in life, but This, to look after those living Remains of his Dear and Pious Deceased, and to be Paying on that Love, which was Due to Her, in the Indulgent Care of Her Children. These dear Children of Hers, as She had often in her Health, so she did now more frequently in her Sickness Instruct, charging them to apply themselves much to Reading, especially to be diligent in constant Prayers to God, to be Observant to their Dear Father, and transferring that Obedience they had to Herself upon Him, to pay Him now a double Duty, and to be entirely Loving to One another; Then and not else they might assure themselves of all good things from God and their Father. Further enjoying them to be Respectful to those that had the charge of them, and ever to give ear to their just and virtuous Advices: and carefully to decline the Company of vain and impertinent Persons. As it was Her only Trouble in all her Sickness, that her Indisposition made Her uncapable of giving that Attendance to the Offices of Religion, Praying, Meditating, Reading, as she used to do: So in the Close, it was the great Affliction of All about Her, and that, which of any thing She herself showed most Sense of, that her Speech Failed her: upon the Loss of which she had no other means of Expressing those pious Ejaculations, She in her last Sickness Incessantly poured forth, but by Sighs, and Eyes and Hands lifted up to Heaven; whither She is gone Bless Soul, to increase the number of Saints, whom the Church this day Commemorates, and to enter into the joy of her Saviour, having left Grief behind Her. Whom in the Whole, as to all Relations, as Her Noble Father (in Whose Affections if Any had a greater share then Other, it was She) in a Letter of His since her Sickness Styles Her the Best of Daughters; so Her Husband praises Her for the Best of Wives; Her Children rise up and call the Best of Mothers; Her Servants (for whose Encouragement and Reward she took care to the Last) own as the Best of Mistresses; Her Allies looked upon as the Best of Friends; Those that had the Honour to know Her, the Best of Acquaintances; and Those that lived near Her, the Best of Neighbours. May We All, that knew Her, keep her Virtue's alive in our Memory, and in our Imitation. May her Worthy and Afflicted Husband, as he does, praise Her, and with a cheerful gratitude mitigate his Sorrow, and comfort himself with the expectation of a Happy Meeting, when Her own Works shall Praise her in the Gates of Heaven. May her Children, those Three Noble Plants She hath left behind Her as the dear Pledges of her Memory, rise up and grow up in her Example, and call her Blessed. And may the Echo of her Praises tend to the setting forth of the Praise of God, the Father of Spirits, and the Father of Lights, from whom cometh every good and perfect Gift. To whom, the Immortal and Ever-blessed, Three Persons and One God, We, together with the whole Company of All his Saints, ascribe, as is most due, all Honour, Praise and Glory, Now and for Ever. Amen. FINIS. AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH of the THRICE NOBLE And VIRTUOUS LADY THE Lady JANE CHEYNE, Eldest DAUGHTER to WILLIAM DUKE of NEWCASTLE, By a Person of Quality and Neighbour in Chelsey. An Elegy on the Death of the Thrice Noble and Virtuous Lady the Lady Jane Cheyne, Eldest Daughter to William Duke of Newcastle. DIsmal the darkness, fearful was the Night, All thoughts were banished bordering on delight; Nature wore Blacks, and the World's beauteous Eye Fled far from the approaching Tragedy: My doubtful Muse lay trembling, when the Knell More doleful from the midnight passing Bell, Subtracting hopes addition gave to Woe, Now ripe in Numbers, and in Tears to flow. Ye Chelsey Fields no more your pleasures boast, Your greatest Pride, is with your Lady, lost; No more cry up your sweet, and healthy Air, Now only fit for such as breathe despair; Of your delightful River brag no more, Briny its Waves, and Fatal is its Shore; Not all its Sands can count the Tears we spilt, Not all its Stream can wash away this guilt. Farewell (Dear Lady) now a blessed Saint: Did not Religion on us lay restraint, Our Vows and Prayers soon would turned be From Praying for, to Praying unto Thee; But these as fruitless are, as those are vain; Thou feelest none, nor pitiest our pain, Our Eyes will better show the Love we bore, Where to lament's more fit, then to implore; And sorrow sure our loss will most become, Like losing Gamesters when we count the sum. Her Noble Birth she from Newcastle took; High in Bridgwater, and in Bullingbrook: But she not half so Great as she was Good, Owed her least Praise to her Illustrious blood; By her intrinsic Worth her Titles rise More splendid from her Virtues, than Allies; And she more Honour gave unto their Fames, Then she derived from their mighty Names, Yet not puffed up with Honour's Timpany, Like Stars she less appeared for being High; And like them too she freely did dispense On all beneath her gentle Influence; So sweetly condescending, as if she Less than ourselves had owned a Dignity; Her Goodness did our Modesty besiege, She never knew where she did not oblige: Hence at her Ills so common was our grief, Nothing but hers could perfect our relief; Tears drowned our Joy, Joy did from Tears release, As her Distempers did arise or cease; And at her Death an Universal groan Was heard, as if her Fate had been our own. Since then she's gone, Oh! that I could inherit One portion of her great Poetic Spirit, Like him who caught Elijah's Mantle, I Of Her and Heaven soon would Prophecy: My Muse should learn to bear a noble Part, And boundless Grief make regular by Art: An Art she knew and practised so well, Her Modesty alone could it excel; Which by concealing doubles her Esteem: 'Tis hard to understand and not to seem. Wand'ring abroad small Poets does become, Great Wits (like Princes) best are seen at home: And yet her Name might Patronise a Muse Defying strictest Censure to accuse; For whatsoe'er her Fancies stamp did own, Was Sterling Coin to be refused by none; Without allay, and as herself refined High as her Birth, yet gentle as her mind; Where Female sweetness manly strength did meet, At once (like Samsons riddle) strong and sweet, If such her Art, her Nature was the same, As this her Wit, so that adorned her Frame Moved by a Soul so Pious, that might be Well termed a Beam of the Divinity; Which in her Life, and Actions shone so bright That We its Heat perceived, as well as Light; Her thousand Graces with a mingled Ray, Made her Life's Path seem one pure milky Way; Whilst others Splendours only show their Blots; As the Moon's Light discovers her own Spots. Her Passions all to Reason gave the sway, As she unto her Husband did obey; From just Compliance neither did desist, 'Cause neither were accustomed to resist; Each kept within its proper bounds, and range, Serving to vary her, but ne'er to change. Her Humour still in Complaisance did 'bide, ne'er ebbed to Sullenness, nor swelled to Pride. In her a Multiplied Example gone; And many Noble Patterns lost in One: None more Devout, none was more chaste of Life, None better Mother, none more loving Wife; Three Blessings (Copies of herself) she brought, Yet was herself the greatest Blessing thought: Worthy by none, but him to be possessed, Who best deserved her, 'cause he loved her best; Such his affection as in Truth extends Beyond th' Examples of the loving Friends: Her griefs he grieved, and all her Pains he felt, As if one Soul within two Bodies dwelled; And she from that did part (I'm bold to say) With less regret than He from her away: With hers He would have given up his Breath, And Love preserved untouched by mighty Death: But that to dare to suffer life might prove More kindness to the Pledges of her Love. Pardon (Dear Saint) my Muse's wand'ring fire; Silence is heard, where'ts easy to admire: The praise that him I give (praise justly due) I'm sure you will not think detained from you; 'Tis equal to rejoin, whom cruel Fate So hardly did attempt to separate. As you to die his glory were content, So may he live your noblest Monument. FINIS.