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. I, being All-Saints day by Adam Littleton ...

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 Interpre∣ters, that by Lemuel is intended Solomon, who, as Grotius observes, was Octanominis, had eight several Names given him in Scri∣pture, and by his Mother consequently is meant Bathsheba, (thought the same Grotius intimate too, it might be Hezekiah himself, who order'd the Collection of these Pro∣verbs,

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 Mothers 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 Le∣cture, is then a Direction to him how to chuse a Wife: but if we take it for a Com∣posure of Solomon's, then 'twill be a dutiful Return of the Son to his Mother's Instructi∣ons, in a large Commendation of her Wisdom and Care; wherein he sets her forth as the Pattern of her Sex, and pleats Laudum Co∣rollam, 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 Ex∣positors

turn it) the Blessed Virgin; be she, in the Allegory, the Church, or any pious Soul: it cannot be deny'd, but that even Li∣terally it belongs, and may properly be ap∣ply'd to any Good Vertuous Woman what∣soever of the whole Sex; who is here Com∣mended through all the Letters of the He∣brew 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 Descripti∣on be Praise; yet we may take a distinct notice of two Particulars contained in this Poem.

I. Her Properties or Vertues, reckon'd up all along to the 28. verse.

II. Her Praise more Emphatically ex∣prest in the very Close, the four last Verses.

Her Vertues, to give you a brief Summa∣ry of them, are

Her Conjugal Fidelity; verse 11.

Her Kindness and Constancy of Affection; verse 12.

Her Houswifery 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 Publick; V. 23. 25.

Her Traffick and Credit abroad; in Sel∣ling, 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 Vertues is three∣fold.

1. At Home, by her Husband and Chil∣dren; who do not speak out of Flattery, but as having been constant Witnesses of her Vertuous Carriage, ver. 28. commending her in this form of words, ver. 29. Many

Daughters have done Vertuously, but Thou ex∣cellest them all.

2. Pro Rostris, solemnly out of the Pul∣pit, in the words of the Text: for so She shall be praised, implies a solemn Commemoration of her Vertues, and an Encomiastick Ha∣rangue upon her Person.

3. For an everlasting Memorial of her, throughout the whole Country, where she li∣ved: 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 perform'd 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 my self somewhat enabled by that personal Knowledge for a fair discharge of the Duty of this Hour, without being much beholden either to

publick 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 Testi∣mony.

To come to the business then; the Vertu∣ous Woman's Commendation here is expres∣sed,

I. Negatively, or, if you will, Compara∣tively. 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 Vertue and Discretion and Piety, which are the truly Laudable Qualities, and make the only durable lasting Foundation, to e∣rect a Monument of Praise upon. 'Tis in∣deed the Humour and Custom of wanton loose Wits, to Court the Beautiful, to Com∣mend the Fair, and the Gay ones in their

Sonnets; and to make Elogies upon them, while they are Living, and Elegies when Dead: but alas! Those are poor Subjects in comparison of the Good and Vertuous; and when those Poets Laurels and their Mi∣stresses Praises too shall be blasted by Truth, and withered by Time, the Woman that fears the Lord, the Pious Lady, the Vertuous Ma∣tron shall be Praised on still, and her Memo∣ry ever continue fresh and green.

We shall, to clear our way for the prov∣ing Vertue the alone Praise-worthy thing, shew 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, Dis∣course, and the Attractives of a hansom Carriage, so as to gain Beholders Love; 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 say the Septuagint, the Complai∣sances of Conversation, which do readi∣ly procure peoples Favour and good Op∣nion. 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 brit∣tle, as the Glass it views it self in, and is at best thus but a Miroir of Beauty, and when broken with Age or marr'd by Disease, be∣comes 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 Opi∣nion of men, and not to any Intrinsick Value; which is therefore as mutable and uncertain as Opinion, which 'tis built upon. And this crys up one thing to day, another to mor∣row. Thamar, after Amnons wicked satis∣faction, was as Unpleasing in his eyes, as she was Fair before. Nay, the Text says, that the Hatred, wherewith he hated her, was great∣er than the love, wherewith he had loved her.

And it appears so by his usage of her; for a Friend was imploy'd to bring her in, but a Servant serv'd 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 asci∣titious Ornaments: when Art is taught to supply the defects, and to repair the de∣cays of Nature. Nor is Beauty alone thus false, when some through a Fantastick Pride or some worse Distemper, walk as if they were their own Sepulcres, Painted; but Favour or Grace it self may be abus'd to meretricious ends; whilest in a demure Aspect, and a graceful Behaviour, it may be difficult to distinguish betwixt a Cour∣tesan, 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 insnares and betrays the Soul. Thus some of the Fathers tell us, the An∣gels

themselves were surpriz'd 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, mis∣chieving their Bodies to secure their Souls, and preferring a Voluntary Deformity be∣fore an Involuntary Temptingness. Mat∣thew of Westminster tells us, that in the year of Christ 870. when the Danes were got into this Island, St. Ebbe with all her Nuns of Colingham did all by one consent cut off their noses and upper lips, to dis∣courage wicked Attempts, and to preserve their Chastity: which disappointment so inrag'd the Danes, that, turning their Lust into Cruelty, they burnt them all alive to∣gether with their Abbey. And Vincenti∣us Bellovacensis tells us of another English Nun, who being for her lovely Eyes covet∣ed of one of the King Richards, and by him demanded of the Convent, got both her Eyes pluck'd out, and sent them to him, as a Present, in a Dish; with this Comple∣ment,

that her Eyes were at the King's ser∣vice, 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 Vertue, when 'tis in thy company! O unfortunate Vertue, that art thus fain to wound and mangle thy self, that thou may'st be kept Intire!

However, notwithstanding this deceit∣fulness and vanity, Those Advantages of good Carriage and a Courteous Behaviour, of Beauty, and a graceful Aspect, are not absolutely to be condemn'd, or to be at all disparaged by us, where God gives them; they being Blessings, as they come from his Hand. And Vertue and Piety it self doth by this means oftentimes meet with a fair Respect, and a kindly Welcom in the World; a good Face and an inge∣nuous Address being a kind of potent Re∣commendation even to Strangers, who will be ready to think the Face a good Index of the Mind; and a fair compos'd Body a suit∣able

lodging for a Beauteous Soul. So I know not how, Vertue having Favour and Beauty for its Attendants and Maids of Ho∣nour, appears more Serene, and yet no less Majestick; and does more plausibly insi∣nuate its Aw and Veneration into peoples minds.

Nor is our Vertuous Woman here want∣ing in these Imbellishments, which may be requisite either to her Sex or State; but is like the Merchants Ships, to which she is compar'd in the 14^th ver. even in this Sense, that she is not without her Tackle and Ornaments. We find in the 22^d ver. that her Cloathing 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 Ad∣vantages under these three Conditions.

1. Not so as ambitiously to seek them, or fondly to Vaunt them. She would not bor∣row

a Complexion from her Boxes; but, what S_t Nazianzen says of his Sister Gor∣gonia 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 Set-off, no real Substance. Piety is her a∣lone Confidence, and Vertue design'd for the Pillar of her Praise; whereon her fair Name shall be ingrav'd in legible Chara∣cters to succeeding Generations.

3. Not so as to Mis-imploy them, but to Guide them with Vertue and Discretion. She likes a Chearful, but would not have it a tempting Look. She composes her self 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 Imbarked in, may not want a good Pilot, a Vertuous Mind to Govern it.

And this for the Negative or Compara∣tive Part, that Favour and Beauty are not of themselves Things commendable in Women, any further then they are accom∣panied and manag'd by Discretion and Vertue. We come now to the Position, which is that a Woman, which feareth the Lord, she shall be Prais'd. In which Propo∣sition 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 Master-piece, 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 Inten∣tion, 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 fram'd not only after him, but out of him too, the more to Ingage 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 apper∣tain 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 Imployments: though Custom, like a Salique Law, hath excluded them from Publick Offices and Professions; and con∣fin'd them mostly to the narrow Territories of Home. Our Vertuous Woman here, be∣sides her Oeconomical Government (wherein her Husband's cares are not concern'd) plays the Purchaser and the Merchant, ver. 16. and 24. though too, whilst her Hus∣band 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 Dis∣course fairly in this behalf vindicated the Reputation of her Sex. Nor are there wanting Illustrious Examples of Those, who for Atchievments 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 weild the Sword, and manage the Pen,

as lay her hands to the Spindle. One In∣stance out of our own History will be suf∣ficient; Elizabeth of Happy Memory, who 44 years together sway'd the Scepter of this Realm, with as much Repute as ever any of her Predecessors did, and through all her Reign shew'd at once the Spirit and Resolution of her Father, and the Policy and Wisdom of her Grand-father, without their Vices.

Hence it was, that all Arts and Sciences, all Vertues and Graces, both Divine and Moral, are represented in the shape and Ha∣bit 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 imagin'd Female, as Male. A∣bove all, for Piety and Devotion, which is the Top-perfection of our Nature, and makes it most like Angelical, as the Capa∣city of Women is as large, so their Incli∣nations are generally more vigorous; the natural Biass 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 Pre∣eminence above us Men, and gains them just advantages of Praise; that, whereas Those, who have only a hansom Shape and good Features to command them, are A∣dor'd and Idoliz'd by persons of slight Ap∣prehensions and ungovern'd Passions; Pi∣ous and Vertuous Women command the Ve∣neration of the most Judicious, and are deservedly Admired by Holy Men and Angels. Hereupon S_t Ierom, though no Friend to a Married life, yet seem'd to pride himself in his Acquaintance with Vertuous 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 him∣self has in his History honour'd Them with a frequent mention, as his ordinary Asso∣ciates and constant Attendants. Thus

the Woman who feareth the Lord shall be praised.

That's the Qualification; She that fear∣eth the Lord: for that is the right Vertuous Woman, in the 10. ver. whose price is far above Rubies. But there we have an Obje∣ction, which I must first take out of the way: Where shall we meet with such an One? Who can find a Vertuous 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 Im∣possibility, but only the Difficulty of find∣ing 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 Observ'd by one, that the rea∣son

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 priz'd Vertue, and made that the Standard of their Affection and the Sole Object of their Choice; when Discretion and Goodness were lookt 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 De∣serts, 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 turn'd, and love has been brought into the Market, that Vertue and good Education are undervalued, and Wealth is become the Lovely Thing, and all the Shafts of mens Destres are Tipt with Gold and Silver; or else by Some that lay their Judgments a∣side, 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 Con∣sequent that Women also should grow more negligent of Vertue, and apply them∣selves more particularly to those Things, for which they were to be priz'd and e∣steem'd by Men. And yet there are still, notwithstanding this Degeneracy of Man∣ners, such Women to be found of the Pri∣mitive 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 Imploy to inrich and beautifie their Minds, and bestow most of their Time in the Cul∣ture and Adornments of their Souls. To find them out, let us Examine the Cha∣racter, by which the Hue and Cry is made. She, whom we call the Vertuous Woman, goes amongst the Interpreters un∣der several names.

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉[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 busie In∣dustrious Woman, one of a stirring active Spirit.

A Woman of Wealth and Riches, says Aben Ezra, which is not One of a great Por∣tion; for Then there was no such Custom; but one that by Industry and good Ma∣nagery 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 Vertuous Woman, so the Chaldee: one that in her Carriage and Acti∣ons shews 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 Vnder∣standing 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 Inlarging 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 ought that should. 'Tis not a Fear then, that ariseth from the Weakness and Imbecillity of Female Con∣stitution, 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 Ingredi∣ent 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 Prin∣ciple. 2. In the Branches and Productions.

In the Principle, 'tis a Reverential Fear, which composes the Inner man to becom∣ing 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 Hea∣venly things, and suits all the Passions of Humane Nature in a fit and constant Corre∣spondence 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 Iustice, 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 Acti∣ons of Life; for, like the Warp, it runs through the whole Web of all Her Duties; it Tutors the Senses, and puts all the Mem∣bers in Array, and orders the Outward man into an answerable Decorum to the Inward; that her Looks, her Speech, her very Ge∣sture and Carriage, prove innocent Expres∣sions of honest Meanings, and a Vertuous Mind; and all the Phaenomena and out∣ward Appearances of Her in her Conver∣sation are but the natural Representments of her Bright Spotless Ingenuous Soul, the fair Inmate of a rightly Disciplin'd and well Order'd Body.

The Fear of God then comprehends in it all Religious Worship, both Internal and External: nor doth it consist in an hypo∣critical 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 Vertuous Wo∣man's Practice, what with Church and Clo∣set on the one side, to which she alway 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 Imploy'd, and di∣vides her Time betwixt the Offices of a Chearful Devotion and the Duties of an In∣dearing Converse.

Now certainly if there be such a Reward as Praise appointed for the Pious, if Ho∣nour hath its Temple adjoyn'd to that of Vertue; then this Pious Vertuous Woman, here mention'd, must be reckon'd the truly Honourable Woman, and will deserve to have her Grave strow'd with Roses and Vio∣lets, and her Memory crown'd with Flow∣ry Chaplets and Myrtle Wreaths of fra∣grant and lasting Praises.

That's the Next thing we have to do; She shall be Praised.

It is a Morose Humour in some, even Mi∣nisters; that they will not give a due Com∣mendation to the Deceased: whereby they not only offer a seeming Unkindness to the

Dead, but do a real Injury to the Living, by discouraging Vertue, and depriving us of the great Instruments of Piety, good Ex∣amples; which usually are far more effectual Methods of Instruction, then any Precepts; These commonly urging only the Necessity of those Duties, which the Other shew the Possibility and Manner of Performing. But then 'tis a most Unchristian and Uncharita∣ble 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 a∣mongst the Multitude, as the due Obser∣vance of those Anniversaries, which the Church has, upon this Account, scatter'd throughout the whole course of the Year, would do: and indeed to our Neglect of this in a great Part the present Decay of Re∣ligion may rationally be Imputed. Thus in this Age of our's what Pliny saith of His, Postquàm desiimus facere laudanda, Laudari quo{que} ineptum putamus. Since People have

left off doing things that are Praise-wor∣thy, they look upon Praise it self 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 A∣nothers 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 Iustice to the Deceas'd themselves. Ordinary Civility teaches us to speak well of the Dead. Nec quicquam San∣ctius habet Reverentia Superstitum, quàm ut Amissos Venerabiliter Recordetur; says Ausonius, and makes this the ground of the Parentalia, which had been ever since Nu∣ma'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 prey upon Carcass. Be∣sides,

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 Communica∣ting with them. The Philosopher in his Mo∣rals makes it a Question, whether the Dead are any way Concern'd in what befals 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 de∣bate in the Affirmative: not so, he says, as to alter their State, but 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 to con∣tribute to it. Tully, though not absolutely perswaded 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. A∣braham, the Father of the Faithful, hath his Bosom thus daily Inlarg'd for New Comers. Whether the Heirs of the Kingdom are at their first Admission Instated into a full Pos∣session 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 Im∣ploy'd upon an Infinite Object, must needs be Infinitely Perficible, and Capable still of being more and more Inlarg'd, and conse∣quently 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 Im∣provements to the End of the World, and bring in a Revenue of Accessory Ioys. And would it not be Unjust in us then to deny

them those Glorious Advantages, which our Commemoration and Imitation may and ought to give them?

2. In a due Acknowledgment of Gods Gifts and Graces. The Praise of his Servants re∣dounds to his Glory; as Water rises to the same height it had in its Well-spring. 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 Glorifie 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 condemn'd, that put his Master's Talent 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 Im∣ploy'd them, and wrap up the Memories of his Saints in the same Shrowd with their Bo∣dies.

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 Remembred. 'Tis not enough to have a Map of the Country we are Tra∣velling to, unless we have experience'd Guids, whose Conduct and Directions we may safe∣ly follow. Our way to Heaven does not lye so ready and plain, that we cannot Miss it; and here 'tis dangerous to trust to our own Judgment, and (which was one kind of ancient Superstition) to resolve our selves as our Staff falls: but our surest Course will be, to observe the Track of others Foot∣steps, 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 carri∣ed along in the broad High-way of Pro∣phaneness with the mistaking Multitude. As in a Voyage by Sea the skilful Pilot, though he consult his Card, and steer by his Com∣pass,

yet he neglects not the Discoveries, o∣ther Navigators have made, that have sayl'd those Seas, and given notice of Rocks and Shelves, and describ'd the Coastings 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 O∣bedience; but when by Others he shews us How 'tis to be done, this as it renders it more Easie to Obey, so it puts our Disobe∣dience past all Excuse.

For the Comfort of Survivers that stay be∣hind, the Vertues and Praises of their Deceas∣ed 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 up∣on 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 bet∣ter Assurances, when any of our Relations are delivered from the Sins and Miseries of a

Wicked and Wretched World, have much greater reason to Rejoyce in their behalf, if by the Testimony of a good Life they have confirm'd 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 fol∣lowing their good Example be found wor∣thy to be Admitted to Them. If it be a Kindness to Them, that our Hearts are touch'd with, we should rather, according to the Apostle's Rule, Rejoyce with them that Rejoyce, 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 Learnt and Practis'd to Dye Well, to flow from Joy as well as Sorrow; and our Ioy that they are in Heaven should far exceed the Grief we show for their leav∣ing Earth. I have read of Parents, that, when their Sons have return'd Conquerers from the Olympick Games, could not master their Resentments, but have dyed with ex∣cessive Joy. Now, in a Christian sense, to have fought a good Fight, and with a Victo∣rious Faith to overcome the World, how much more considerable a Conquest is it, and how does it deserve our most concern'd Joys? That in any Friend's case, that Dyes thus, it would become us to say what S. Tho∣mas did, when word was brought of Laza∣rus his death, Come let us go, and Dye with him. It was Kindly said, and perhaps not Fondly neither. For certainly the most exquisite Felicities of Life are not Compa∣rable to the Advantage of a Holy Death. Let us then upon such Occasions, (as we use, when any Friend alters his Condition to the Better, to Wish him Ioy;) Gratulate those

that Dye thus in the Lord; not consider what We have Lost, but what they have Gain'd; and joyn with Them in singing Hallelujahs, Praising them, and Praising God for them, and Praising God with them. Praise is a Chearful 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 Honoura∣ble Vertuous Woman before us, would lay aside their own Concerns, and be Comfort∣ed, as they do mean heartily to Joyn with me in the Acknowledgment of her Praises.

I would not detain you long, I need not. All that has been, or may be said of the Vertuous 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 Panegyrick. 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 Na∣ture, and the Evenness of her Temper, whereof throughout her whole Life she gave Innumerable Demonstrations. And certainly Good Nature (however some Ill-natur'd 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 Vertue to thrive in; the Kindliest Soil for the Fruits of the Spirit, Meekness, Ioy, Patience, Gentleness, Long-suffering, Loving kindness, &c. 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 Li∣neal Descent to be derived from the Fa∣mily; (For Fortes creantur Fortibus, & Bo∣ni Bonis. Vertues and good Qualities likely run in a Blood) I must so far mention

Her Pedigree, as to give the True Blazonry of her Vertues.

She was Eldest Daughter to His Grace the Duke of Newcastle, a Person of no less Ex∣cellence in His Merit and in His Nature, then 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 ow'd this Excellent Lady; who be∣ing powerfully inclin'd by Instinct and Du∣ty, and Choice to be like Her Noble Fa∣ther, did so Naturally Resemble Him, and so Affectionately Imitate Him, that She re∣presented 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 Vertuous Education; and Her Noble Grand-Mother, the Lady Ogle, whose Dar∣ing she was; who, to this Lady IANE did in her life and at her death give parti∣cular Testimonies of an extraordinary Affe∣ction,

which were often gratefully remem∣bred and repeated by Her.

From these Advantages of Birth, that Natural Principle of Goodness flow'd, which being Inlarged by the Moral accessions of Noble Breeding, and Impregnated with Holy Exercises, and the Influences of God's good Spirit, stream'd into all the Faculties of her Soul; by which she became the Ab∣solute 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 Strang∣ers, 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 Excep∣tious. She knew her self so Innocent and Good, that she deserv'd no Ill, and therefore suspected none; and withal She was of so Generous and Great a Spirit, that unkind∣nesses, if intended, could not reach Her. So

that as on the one hand no body (she be∣liev'd) would wrong Her, if they could; so on the other, (she resolv'd) they should not, if they would. Her soft yielding Com∣pliance back'd with Magnanimity was like polish'd Marble, smooth and strong. She was seated above the clouded Atmosphere of Worldly Joys and Troubles, even while she was Here; and had wrought Her self to a perfect Indifference and Vnconcernedness in all things, but Her Service of God, and Kindness to her Friends. She had no Value for the World, nor Over-value for Her self, who was one of the Best Parts of it. For as Her Worth had set Her Even with the Greatest; so Her Humility plac'd 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 Ve∣nerable and Highly Esteemed.

Where the Passions are kept in this Aw and Order, the Superiour Faculties, being clear and undisturb'd, must needs exercise

all their Functions aright. She took, when Young, special delight in her Father's Ex∣cellent 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 Imployment: to which and to Her De∣votions she was so Constant, that, as she hath fill'd some Volumes with the One; so for the Other, from her Youth to her late Death-bed she fail'd not of Prayer (as I am Informed) thrice a day; and if Morning or Noon hapned 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 lookt upon all Occasions, that In∣terrupted That, as Impertinent and Unea∣sie; 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 Vertues.

What Courage and Loyalty, as the right Daughter of a General, as the Valiant Wo∣man here spoken of, did she shew, in keeping the Garrison'd House of her Father, where she was left with One of her Noble Sisters, as a Sharer, in her Vertues and the Misfortunes of Ill times (the Other being before that Time Happily bestow'd) amongst the Hor∣rid Circumstances of War, till taken by the Enemy, and there made their Prisoners?

What Gallantry of Charity at the Re∣taking 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 Ar∣my, his leaving England, His and her Bro∣thers Banishment after and Proscription, and the Seizure of all their Fortunes, be∣side Her own Personal Sufferings and Un∣settlements?

What Duty and Piety, when after the Fifths were procur'd, She was inabled to become Sollicitor for her Father and Bro∣thers, 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 Petition∣ings, how humbly and closely soever prose∣cuted, She could not prevail for Her Fa∣ther; Her Brothers only with much diffi∣culty 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 Banisht 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 Grand-Mother had given Her) into Mo∣nies, and sent it over a Token of Affectio∣nate Duty.

Nor stopt Her Duty here, but She con∣tinued it together with her Obedience to her Married state: having resolv'd without his Leave and Consent not to change her Con∣dition; nor so neither, without a Liberty from her Intended Husband, out of that Fortune, Her Father's Nobleness had de∣sign'd Her, to make him a considerable Present (so I find it Nobly Acknowledg'd 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 indearing Ex∣pressions Ordered a liberal Return.

And then with what Condescending Prudence and Iudicious Moderation did She make her Choice, when having through the Iniquity of the Times observ'd 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 Judgment to her Inclination accepted a Gentleman, yet One (besides His othet Accomplishments, and the Merit of his most Affectionate Respects) of an Ancient Fa∣mily and a very Noble Descent, with whose Principles and Fortune She perswaded her self of Content. And she found That per∣swasion 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 it self 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 lov'd particularly to make out in Observing the Fasts of the Church, as much and as oft, as the tender∣ness of Her Constitution could well permit.

Next to Reading and Writing she de∣lighted 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 pleas'd a good God in some measure to answer her desires (who had always a tender Apprehen∣sion for Pain) that, though the Fits to sor∣rowful By-standers seem'd not to be with∣out Pang and Agony, yet were graciously

Alleviated to Her by a Surprize of her Senses, for the time, and That so Gentle too, as never to cause any Disorder or In∣decency. Nor after the Fits, at the re∣turn of Spirits, sufficient to give Her li∣berty 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 Sick∣ness, while She had Speech, She used it most in Devotion, and in many gentle chear∣ful and obliging Expressions to her Hus∣band, Children, Doctors, and other her mournful Assistants.

Particularly in the Three weeks Inter∣val, She had, when there were very good hopes of her Recovery, She used often to say, That though she resigned up Her self wholly to the wise disposal of a good God, yet She being in expectation of being call'd a∣way in her first Fits, look'd upon her Reco∣very as a gracious kind of Disappointment (they were Her own Words) by God Al∣mighty. 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 Vertues and Graces were Summon'd together, with uni∣ted force to make up the Complin of her Devotions; wherein she Profess'd, 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 Prepared∣ness to Dye. Of which, amongst many others, there were two Remarkable In∣stances. One to a Reverend Father of our Church, whom she told with great Uncon∣cernedness, as he was discoursing piously to Her, That she was not afraid to Dye; not that she had or fear'd any Trouble or Discontent here, but that she might Injoy the Blessings of that Better World. The Other

to Her sad and afflicted Husband, whom, as He was at her Bed-side praying to God, that he would restore Her again to Health, that she might Live and Glorifie him, when those, that went down into the Pit, could not Praise him; she stopt Him in his Prayer, and with a comfortable Look and strong Voice (though a great difficulty of Speech had some time before possest Her) said, She would Glorifie God, whether she lived or dyed: 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 Me∣rit, 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 Epileptick and Convulsive Fits, which seiz'd Her Brain, did at the same time seize His Heart: so after Her Dissoluti∣on and the Departure of His Better Soul, He finds no Reason to live, no Joy in life, but This, to look after those living Re∣mains

of his Dear and Pious Deceased, and to be Paying on that Love, which was Due to Her, in the Indulgent Care of Her Chil∣dren.

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 Fa∣ther, and transferring that Obedience they had to Her self upon Him, to pay Him now a double Duty, and to be intirely Loving to One another; Then and not else they might assure themselves of all good things from God and their Father. Further injoying them to be Respectful to those that had the charge of them, and ever to give ear to their just and vertuous Advices: and care∣fully to decline the Company of vain and impertinent Persons.

As it was Her only Trouble in all her Sick∣ness, that her Indisposition made Her unca∣pable of giving that Attendance to the Offi∣ces

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 her self shew'd most Sense of, that her Speech Fail'd 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 en∣ter into the Ioy 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 Stiles Her the Best of Daughters; so Her Husband praises Her for the Best of Wives; Her Children rise up and call the Best of Mo∣thers; Her Servants (for whose Encourage∣ment and Reward she took care to the Last) own as the Best of Mistresses; Her Allies lookt upon as the Best of Friends; Those

that had the Honour to know Her, the Best of Acquaintances; and Those that liv'd near Her, the Best of Neighbours.

May We All, that knew Her, keep her Vertues alive in our Memory, and in our Imitation. May her Worthy and Afflicted Husband, as he does, praise Her, and with a chearful 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.