TO His Sacred MAJESTY, King WILLIAM III. A PANEGYRIC. Presented to the EARL of PORTLAND. The Second Edition. By Mr. MANNING. Nil majus generatur Ipso, Nec Viget Quidquam simile. Horat. LONDON, Printed for J. Weld, at the Crown in Fleetstreet, between the two Temple-gates. 1698. To the Right Honourable, WILLIAM Earl of PORTLAND, etc. Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter. SInce by so Earnest, and so Wise a Care You Rule that Treaty which Concludes the War: Since Europe doth Confess the Peace is due Next to our matchless King, my Lord, to You. Well may the Muses grateful Offerings raise To Him, whose Worth so far transcends their Praise: Him, whose unwearied Services commend The Faithfullest Subject, and the Faithfullest Friend. Accept my Lord, a Muse that strives to Sing The Greatest Hero, and the Greatest King. She strives indeed, but to her Cost she found Her Voice too Weak for so Sublime a Sound. A Theme so Lofty, and a Work so Bold, Ask strength and Fancy not to be Controlled. Like a rude Painter, whom propitious Chance Directs (unknown) some Likeness to advance: All I can boast amounts alone to bring Some faint Resemblance of so Brave a King. Portland is able best to judge How well The Picture shows the Great Original: Can with a glance Discern, if in the Lines Ought that is like a true Proportion shines. For You have from the Hero's mouth been taught His gallant Aims, and all his inmost Thought. And have Yourself been Witness of the Toil He spent in Arms to save the British Soil. How with amazing Valour He pursued His numerous Foes through Dust, and Fire, and Blood. Whilst His Triumphant Fleet at his Command Dispersed His Thunder through the Hostile Land: Destroying Towns, and Navys that presume To share His Ocean, and to tempt their Doom. Till now their Master, fearful of His Power, Solicits Peace, which he Disdained before. With hast He Signs, releasing All his Claim To Towns and Countries won, and bends to William's Name. TO THE KING. VOuchsafe, Great Sir, to hear without disdain Some of the Wonders that Compose your Reign. Take as your Due, suspending Arms a while, The Title of Preserver of our Isle. 〈◊〉 other Monarches found a wide Command ●n Laws Subverted, or a Conquered Land: Born for the World's Relief, You glory more To free that Nation, and those Laws restore. There needs no Conquest to maintain Your Sway, You Reign o'er People willing to Obey. When Parents, lost to Nature, would forsake Their Children, and the just Succession break: Who blames an Heir, that with propitious Speed Sets forth his Claim, and labours to Succeed? So when old Saturn had resolved to chase His Eldest Jove, and all his Lawful Race; Moved with the Wrong, the injured Son arose, Maintained his Title, and Dispersed his Foes. And here, Great King, what Praise and Thanks are due For England's Happiness restored by You! What storms of Fury this poor Island tossed, Before You landed on the British Coast! The brand of Zeal was ready to inflame Its Bosom, and destroy our native Claim To Liberty, Religion, Law and Right, When to prevent it, We Your aid invite. You came, You saw, like Caesar You succeed, And all our Captive-Laws by You are freed. So Perseus once, to save the injured Maid, Flew over the Deep, and brought a timely Aid. Fain would I dwell upon this great Relief, That fixed our Safety, and dispersed our Grief. Recorded Let it be to future Time, Inspiring Poets with unusual Rhyme. Let the Triumphant Subject fill each Page, Exalt their Numbers, and increase their Rage. But then, how Large, how Bright should be the Flame That dares attempt to spread the Hero's Fame! He, who like Lightning shone upon our Land, (Dread in his Look, and Justice in his Hand,) Yet when He shot through every guarded place Forbore his Vengeance, and displayed his Grace. A Love so Wondrous, and an Act so Bold Make us believe Thee scarce of humane Mould: But (what's more suited to such Deeds) that Fate Some Guardian Angel sent to prop a sinking State. Pale Horror now, nor Crimson Slaughter bear Your feet ascending to the Regal Chair. How soon our Great Preserver did unite The Monarch's Grandeur, and the People's Right! How soon were all our gathering Tempests over, When once You showed Your Person on our shore! So when the Winds at Juno's suit arose, And poured impetuous fury on her Foes: The Ocean's God did all his Care employ To lay those Winds, and save remaining Troy. France for an Age her deep Designs had laid, And for a War a Vast Provision made: Whilst Neighbouring Kings observed it not, or drowned In soft Amusements, slighted what they found. Or what is worse, expected to partake That Power that did the World's whole Fabric shake. Thus Fleets were built, and Armies on the strand Insulting spread a Fear through every Land. On You, Brave Prince, the lowering Tempest fell, And Storms increase as You their Rage repel. France, Hydra-like, no sooner lost one Head, But still Two more seemed risen in its stead. Till You, pursuing with Herculean Toil, Opposed her Progress, and regained the Spoil. Placed in the Throne, by Law, by Right your Due All our Complaints are soon redressed by You. O●c● more with joy we see our Laws restored, The Nation's Honour, and the Prince's Word. 〈◊〉 People now, whose universal Voice Gave Thee the Crown, confirm the worthy Choice. The grateful Senate votes with joint Applause Sufficient Aids for Thine, and Europe's Cause. Whilst You with care disposing of the same, Make large returns of Empire and of Fame. Thus Scotland (when Rebellious Arms withstood The Joint Election, and the Public Good) Glad to contribute to your Fame's increase, Was by your Arms restored to native Peace. 'Twas here a Savage Brood maintained the War, Bred among Rocks, and hardened by Despair, Eager of Blood, inur'd to Toil and Cold, Led by a hardy Rebel, Firm and Bold, In vain attempted with a fierce Career To check Thy Progress, and thy Laurels tear. Filled with Thy Genius brave Mackay received The Sturdy Foe, who such bold Acts achieved, That had his Cause been Right, his Fortune we had grieved. But This may show what Fate's decreed for Those Whose impious Arms dare such a King oppose. To Ireland passing next I should disclose, Great King, Thy Triumphs over other Foes. There should I trace Thee to the dusty Fight, Plunged in the midst, and moved with fierce Delight: Pursuing Squadrons of the yielding Foe, Whilst Boyn's white Waves grew red at every blow: When Bullets by Divine Commission flew, And pitying Europe's state distinguished You. What Perils in the Tumult didst thou run, Confronting Death, which had the World undone! But Providence thy Guardian ever found, Exchanged the Ruin for a painful Wound. O that I had but Waller's Heavenly flame Powerful and Bright, proportioned to Your Fame: In Verse triumphant as my Theme, I'd sing The Godlike Deeds of happy Britain's King! How swift as Phoebus' Rays he Pierced each place, Terror and Conquest lightened from his Face: His Foes Astonished, Sunk upon the Plain, And scarce a Few escaped Affrighted o'er the Main. But These are Strokes that claim a Master's Hand, Unfit for me to touch, what Few can e'er Command. Mean while as long as Silver Boyne shall flow, And fruitful Crops to neighbouring Meads bestow: As long as Mountague's exalted Page, Filled with Thy Glories shall retain its Rage. As long as Ireland's rescued Laws shall stand, So long Thy Conquests shall adorn That Land. Nor is Thy Conquering Soul to Lands confined, The Ocean has to Thee her Bounds refigned. Lord of the Sea, where e'er Thy Fleets are found, The wondering Coasts Thy settled Fame resound. The French, observing where Thy Navy rides, Keep close at home, nor dare They trust the Tides. Too well They call to mind that Fatal hour When Russel chased Them with his floating Power. The harmless Tourville thought it time to fly, When he perceived an English Fleet was nigh. This is our Islands Strength: should Armies fail, The Terror of our Ships would still prevail. But thou at once art Feared upon the Plain, And art Supreme Controller of the Main. Well then may Tourville and the Fleet Despair of Safety, when our Force They meet. Lafoy Hogue's remembered still, whose Dreadful Name Confounds their Spirits, and reveals their Shame. With what Impatience did the Foes retire, Led by the Light of their Own Navy's Fire! Namur should be One Subject of my Song, Namur, so Great, so Daring and so Strong. No common Fortress here deludes Your Fame, This won, You spread throughout the Globe Your Name. Nature and Art, Blood, Fire, and Rage combine To disappoint the Bold, the Brave Design. How did the battering Canons prove their Force, And fierce Battalions storm it in their Course! In vain the warm Defenders would repel Your Conquering Troops, for when the Boldest fell, A New Supply was still reserved behind, The same the Boldness, and the Conquering mind. Cuits leads them on, the King's Example fires The Hero, and to Conquest Him inspires. Now would I Draw collected near the Town The Foes United Strength to finish Thy Renown. In vain doth Villeroy threaten to advance With all the Pride, and all the Power of France: In vain pretends with a Superior Force To brave Your Army, and divert Your Course. Slighting his Threats, quick Orders You dispense To Storm the Fort, in spite of all Defence: To gain their Lodgments, and the Work pursue, Contemning All that Foes on either side can do. Mean while the French are much alarmed to find Such Resolution, and such Conduct joined. Amazed at all the Actions they Behold, At Troops so Daring, and a King so Bold, Stand gazing on to see the Fort resigned, And own Nassau the Greatest of Mankind. Thus Those, who aimed at Universal Sway, Are here Compelled to Wonder and Obey. Those who with Gold so often had overrun Whole Provinces, and strongest Places won, Opposed in open War decline the Field, Attest Your Valour, and Consent to Yield. THIS were a Task indeed; but, oh! my Muse, Unknowing to be Bold must such a Work refuse. Far from the War she humbly seeks to rove, And sing in softer Strains of Peace and Love. Now may she sing of both, for Mars resigns His Empire, Venus with Apollo joins: The God of Day triumphs, again serenely shines. War's now no more, the Trumpet's shrill Alarm Excites no Terror, and implies no Harm. No longer now destructive Engines roar, No longer breath Defiance from our Shore: Instead of Thunder, Peals of Joy afford, For Your Return, and for the Peace restored. Restored by You, Great KING! for You alone Could check th' Enlargement of the Throne. Let others boast ignoble Foes to tame, Foes much unequal and unused to Fame: Unlike such Victors, stronger Armies You, Even in their height of Triumphs can subdue. War's now no more, let every Wind diffuse, Wherever the Ocean rolls the happy News. On every Shore shall pressing Throngs be found, Prepared with list'ning Ears to catch the joyful Sound. With Shouts of Gladness shall the Tidings hear, Resume their Spirits and discharge their Fear. War's now no more, the humble Shepherds lead Their Flocks with Joy, securely now they feed. The Husbandman no more his Toil restrains, But reaps Himself the Harvest of his pains. The thriving Merchant unmolested joins Both Indies, and returns with sailing Mines. The Muses too their drooping Spirits raise, And sing aloud the PEACE, the Triumph of our Days. The British Monarch has the lasting Fame Of settling Europe's Peace, and every Lawful Claim. What Power on Earth could e'er have long withstood The just Attempt of one so Great, so Good? A Prince, whose Name strikes Terror in his Foes, Secures a constant and a firm Repose. A Fame so bright, so much beyond the Praise Of modern Heroes, well might Wonder raise Enough to make an * Czar of Moscovy. Emperor leave his Throne So far remote, his Conquests newly won, And Greater still in view, to visit Him alone. So Sheba's Queen to distant Judah came, To see a Prince that filled the World with Fame. To Thee, Great KING, united Europe gave Their Armies to command, their Rights to save. Wisely They chose, for what Their joint Consent Resolved, is answered by the Great Event. By long Experience of Your Arms They knew What such a Leader, such a King could do. No Wonder then Thy vast Heroic Toil Makes Mighty Princes court the British Soil, In Person come to view and to admire Him, who has saved the World from Rage and Fire; Who, fearless, through encircling Dangers sprung, Eager of Fame, Wise, Powerful, Brave, and Young, And wheresoever He flew, brought Victory along. O, how I could enlarge this pleasing Scene! (The Subject pleases, tho' the Verse be mean) But that I know your Patience and your Time Too weighty to be spent on trifling Rhyme. Else would I spread the Glories of Thy Line, How Great, how full of Splendour, how Divine! What heaps of Honours, and of Conquests grace The numerous Branches of Thy Godlike Race! Triumphant, All the Public Good pursue, And yet are pleased to be outdone by You. But yet, so Great, so Gallant, so Renowned As Thou in all the Courts of Fame art found, Yet have we seen Thee All the Man forego, Lavish in Grief, and far oppressed with Woe. But then, what Power is This, that could Control Such Martial Heat, and Shake so firm a Soul? MARIA could Alone. MARIA's hapless Fate Made All the Hero Sink, the Fierce, the Bold, the Great. Oh! She was Goodness All, with Pride unstained, And yet the Port of Majesty retained. Of Manly Spirit, yet Serene of Face, Adorned with every Virtue, every Grace. Whilst in her Eyes transcendent Charms were seen, Minerva's Wisdom, Juno's Awful Mien, Arose Conspicuous in This Matchless QVEEN. Power, Mercy, Bounty, All conspired to show The World an Angel, whilst She lived below. Just were Thy Tears on This occasion shown, For such a Loss no Age had ever known. With Thee whole Nations wept, and pressed with Grief Prolonged their Mourning, careless of Relief. Thine was a nearer Loss; We more admire Thou couldst so soon revive Thy Martial Fire, Than that we saw Thy Tears: but Fate ordained The Hero still should rise, and so his Grief restrained. Now has He gained his Height, for what remains For Valour to perform, since Europe Peace obtains? This was His Work, in which the Hero spent His Generous Blood for such a Great Event. A Work so full of Wonder and of Fame, That all the World Consents to reverence his Name. Let other Writers other Acts rehearse, Display His Bolder Deeds in Bolder Verse; Mine be the Task of Peace, diffusing o'er Its golden Fruits to every happy Shore. Here, when I weigh, that None beside was found Able to check Ambition, and to bound Insulting Foes, whose project was to Awe United Nations, and give Europe Law; How am I raised with Wonder, and with Flame! Rage, Fury, Transport, All that I can name, Hurries me on to spread Thy Matchless Fame. Who doth not feel th' Effect of all Thy Cares At Home in Council, or Abroad in Wars? What Part of All the Universe complains, Whilst so Renowned, so Just a Monarch reigns? Is there a Virtue, that to Human Sense Seems Useful, and goes Unrewarded hence? By Thee the Muses are advanced above The People's Censure, or Uncertain Love. Raised to Thy Councils, or in meaner Trust, Their least degree of Merit's to be Just. Thou knowst their Worth, and with Remark hast seen How faithful to Thy Service They have been. In all Sublime Occasions that Require A Watchful Conduct, and an Active Fire: Let the World judge, if Those of Phoebus' Train, Those whom the KING has chosen to retain, Have e'er been found Remiss in Needful Care, Or in the Wished Success without a Double Share. Then let the KING the Muse's Tribe increase, Indulge their Labours, and Secure their Peace. FINIS.