The gallery of heroick women written in French by Peter Le Moyne of the Society of Jesus ; translated into English by the Marquesse of Winchester.

[illustration]

PAVLINE 〈…〉〈…〉

Paulina.

IS it one of the Graces, or an wounded Amazon who dyes there standing, and in the posture of a Conqueress? She is truly a Grace, even a manly and magnanimous Grace: No Amazon, unless a Philosophick and long Rob••d Amazon. She is the wise and vertuous Paulina, who became a Stoick in the house of Seneca; and resolves to die in his Company, and by his Example.

You may have heard what common rumour hath pub∣lished of Neros ingratitude, and of the Fatal command of death he sent his Master. This second Parricide no less scan∣dalized the Senate, and all the People, then the first, which is yet fresh, and whose blood still reales upon the Earth. And the impiety of the Tyrant after it had caused Agrippina to be murthered, who had been twice his Mother, and brought him no less into the Empire, then into the world; after it had put Seneca to death, the Instructer of his youth, and the Fa∣ther of his spirit, could not ascend higher, if it rise not up against God himself; if it fall not on Religion and holy things. Though this last stroke fell only upon Seneca, yet he is the only person that was not surprized with it: and having

often beheld the soul of Nero open, and even to the bottom; he ever indeed believed that figures of Rhetorick, and sen∣tences learnt by roat, would not be more acknowledged then the Life and Empire he received from his Mother.

He received likewise that barbarous Order with a Tran∣quility truly Stoick, and worthy the Reputation of his Sect. He did not appeal to the Senate, he knew very well that the Senate is now but a Body divested of Power, a dismembred Body, and still bleeding of the wounds it had received from the Tyrant. He did not implore Redress from the Laws: they were all at present either banished or dead. He was con∣tent to obey without noyse or delay: and you could not ar∣rive more seasonably to see a Stoick, dying according to the forms and principles of his Profession. Paulina would also shew, that Constancy belonged to her Sex no less then to ours; and that VVomen might be Philosophers without having commerce with Lycea and Portica, without making Dilemmaes or Sylogismes. She believed, that being the one half of Seneca, she might be couragious by his Courage, and dye by the example of his Death, as she had been enriched by his Riches, and honoured by his Fortune.

Their Veins hapned to be opened by the same hand and Lancet. Their blood and spirits were mixt together in their wounds: And that of Seneca, entring into the Arm of Pau∣lina with the Lancet, penetrated her very heart, and seated it self about her soul. You see also, that being instructed and fortified by this spirit, which serves for a second reason, and an accessory Courage, she had the fortitude to expect death standing, which is the last Act of Soveraign Vertue, and the true posture of dying Heroes. The blood streamed from her Arm with violence, as if her soul pressed it to have the glory of going out the first: And to behold the purest and most spirituall parts thereof, which spurt up from the Bason into which it fell, you would say that it takes a pride in the Nobleness of its Extraction, and conceives it self too well de∣scended to be spilt on the ground. Paulina calmly, and with∣out the least alteration beholds it trickling down. And saving

that her Colour vanished away by degrees, and Paleness succeeded, as it doth to the last Rays of a fair day, which dyes in a beautiful Cloud, no change was to be seen in her Coun∣tenance.

Her Constancy is no savage Constancy: It hath a serenity and Grace; but it is a pale serenity, and an expiring Grace. She is more covetous of her Tears and Sighs, then of her Blood and Life: she prohibited her Eyes and Mouth to shew the least sign of weakness: And a Statue of white Marble, which should make a Fountain of its artificiall Veins, could not have a more peaceable stability, nor a more gracefull confidence.

This example is very rare: but it is sad, and cannot in∣struct the mind, but by wounding the heart. The steam of so Noble Blood draws almost tears from your eyes: And it afflicts you, that you are not able to save the fair remains of so beauteous a Life. Let it no longer torment you: The Tyrant advertised of Paulina's generous resolution, sends Souldiers to hinder her Death, and inforce her to live. Not that he takes care of the Vertues, or is willing to preserve the Graces, which are ready to dye with her. He is Nero in all his actions, and doth no less mischief when he saves, then when he ki••s. It is because he delights to sever the best united hearts, and to divide the fairest Couples: It is be∣cause he takes pleasure in forcing inclinations, and violating sympathies: It is because he hath a desire to exercise upon friendships and souls an interiour and spirituall Tyranny: It is because after the death of Seneca, he will have the heart of Seneca in his power.

The Balisters of Porphiri••, upon which you see him lean∣ing, is the same, as they say, on which lately at the noise and light of flaming Rome, he sung the firing of Troy. He speaks from thence to the Souldiers he sent to Paulina, and com∣mands them to make hast. Though she had but two steps to make, yet they will enforce her to retreat, and fasten her again to life, by binding up her wounds. It were to be wish∣ed, for the good of Rome, that they had done as much to

Seneca: But if they had Swathes and Remedies to apply to him, Nero could wish that they might be impoysoned Swathes, and killing Remedies. The last year he caused the same Remedies to be applyed to gallant Burrus his other Governour: And doubt not but he will shortly send the like to Seneca, if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Soul make not the more haste to expire.

It is not the good old mans fault, that his soul is not alrea∣dy at liberty: he presseth it with vehemency enough; and hath made for it Orifices large enough in all his Veins. But Seneca must be long a dying, that his lingring death may be a lasting Instruction, and a Pattern of a large extent. Sure∣ly this Seneca is not the man of whom Envy and Detraction hath made so many false Pictures. I perceive nothing of weakness or vice wherewith they reproach him. And this Death, what ever ignorant and traducing spirits say, cannot be the Tragedy of a seemingly Vertuous person, of a masked Philosopher, of a Counterfeit and Sophisticall Doctor.

His calm and setled Constancy, shews outwardly the sta∣bility of his mind. He seems to confirm with his eyes, and brow, whatsoever he hath written concerning the contempt of Fortune and Death: You would say that he alledges himself for the proof of his Doctrine. He Philosophizes by as many mouths, as there are wounds: And every drop of his blood is a Stoicall Demonstration: A proof of his Opi∣nions, and a testimony which he renders to the Courage of his Sect. His weeping and mourning friends receive with his last words, the last spirit of Philosophy, and the pure lights which already his almost loosned and descryed Soul diffuseth.

The attention they give him is full of respect, and hath something, I know not what, of Religion: It would be hard to say, whether it be to his voice or blood they are atten∣tive: whether it be the dictates of his mouth, or those of his wounds which they write.

In this extremity this severe man, who so boldly looks up∣on Death, as if he were seeing a Mask, dares not fix his eyes

upon Paulina. I think that he apprehends lest friendship might soften his spirit, and the Husband be found more pow∣erfull in his heart then the Philosopher. But ••e not scanda∣lized at this tenderness. It is not unseemly in a wise man. He may with credit afflict himself for another: And the Tears which friendship hath exprest, may decently trickle down on his Face.

SONNET.

PAULINA speaks.

PAulina meets Death's Launcet, with a Mind No less of Stoick, then of Roman Kind: A Philosophick Love, which charms her Heart, Will give the stroke to sweeten all her smart.

Inhumane Fortune, through remorse, or hate, Runs to rebuke her, and repair her Fate: But her great Soul resists a forced stay, And with her Blood makes haste to slide away.

You daring Sages, who for Truths promote Your high fictitious Dreams, and from us Vote Our Noble Passions; Learn of this Heroique, And Famous Woman, to be truly Stoique:

And know this truth (whatever you in vain Have learn'd from your fantastick Founder's Brain) That the most Tragick Deaths delightfull grow, VVhen Love himself shall give the fatal Blow.

Elogy of Paulina.

IF there were great Vices in Nero's Age, there were also eminent and very exemplar Vertues. The darkest nights have their Planets: And in the worst Seasons, the Sun hath his good Intervals, and fair hours. This Monster inrag'd against Reason, which made him see his Errours, fell upon Seneca, who had cleer'd and disciplin'd that faculty in him; As if it had proceeded from the Masters fault, who polished the Glass, and not from his own Deformity, that he was hideous. He then gave order for his death: And this excellent Man, who was grown old under another Mistress then this slight fencing Philosophy, which is only bold in a School and against Fantosmes, was ready to submit to this bar∣barous Command for proof of his Doctrine, and to put in Practice what he had set forth in Propositions and Opinions.

When it was time to depart, he did not so much as turn his head to listen to Fortune, who solicited, and called him to the Empire. He departed out of a house more worth then ten Millions, as if he had gone out of a thatch••d 〈◊〉〈◊〉. He shewed himself only sensible for Paulina, whom he le••t young, and exposed to the outrages of a bad season, and the insolen∣cies of a Tyrant, who had caused it. He endeavoured to perswade her to live, and take comfort in her own Vertue, and the Goods he had left her.

But she remonstrated to him, that these indulgent and careful per∣swasions were not fit to be used to the Wife of Seneca. That his Example counselled her better, then his Reasons: That it taught as well as Phi∣losophy, how to die resolutely and with courage. Their veins were opened with the same Lancet: they mingled their Blood, their Spirits, and Examples:

And the soul of Paulina would have followed that of Se∣neca, if it had not been detained at the last step she was to make. Nero ap∣prehending, lest the death of so illustrious a Lady, and of so high a Re∣putation might compleat the drawing on him a publick hatred, sent Souldiers, who bound up her veins, and used violence to make her live. But she retained all that she could of death, which was then kept from her: And ever after conserved the desire of it in her heart, and the pale∣ness of it upon her face.

MORAL REFLECTION.

PAulina who is still victorious over death in this Picture, informs us that Philosophy hath no Sex; that it communicates it self without making any distinction between Garments and Faces: That the Graces themselves may become Valiant, and Couragious under her Discipline: And that Cowardise proceeds from the corruption of the heart, and not from the tenderness of the temper, nor the dispositions of Fortune. It likewise informs us that Vertue must needs be very weak, and Chri∣stianity

superficial in the greatest part of Christian Ladies, who per∣plex themselves about a Necklace and a few Pearls; who have their hearts fixed on a lac'd Petticoat, who are slaves to a small Fortune, which to express it well, is but a figure of guilded dirt. The least they can expect, is to be condemned by this Heathen woman, who had a soul dis-ingaged from Riches which may vie with those of Kings; who had a free heart even in the arms of a Fortune which was as large as the Empire; and which raised jealousie even in the Fortune of the Emperour himself. The ensuing Question will manifest, whether Paulina could be a Philosopher and a Stoick; and whether I had reason to say that Philosophy hath no Sex.

MORAL QVESTION.

VVhether VVomen be capable of true Philosophy.

A Woman hath been heretofore seen playing the Orator in pub∣lick places, who did with unprofitable and studied Discourses, what the Mountebanks now adayes use to do with their Drugs, and Antick faces. There was also a lewd Woman, who affected a brutish and impudent Freedom: who braved Fortune and Nature with a Staff and Wallet; who was Beggerly and Arrogant; and who had, under a rag∣ged and tottered Garment, a worse Pride then is found under cloth of Gold and Purple: Both the one and the other was called Philosophy; But both had but the name and a false mask, which drew Spectators to them. And certainly if no other Philosophy had descended from Heaven, then from this bawling and Arrogant Creature: I should have pre∣sently concluded, that a good Woman could have no commerce with Philosophy. There is a third, which is the true Mistress of Life, and the Directress of Manners: which hath the general charge of Vertue and Sciences; and is no enemy to the Graces: which is endowed with a modest Capacity, and a Courage without Pride or Fierceness. And if the Question be concerning this Philosophy, we must boldly say, and without fearing to do her injury, that she hath no Sex, no more then the Intelligences: that she is come as well for Women as Men; and she being the last perfection of the Understanding, and the compleatment of Reason, all rational Souls are equally capable of her Discipline.

And to the end this Decision may be established with Method, it is to be noted, that there is Philosophy Speculative and Scientifical, and a

Philosophy which is Moral and Active: Both are within the Sphear of Womens understanding, and have no Functions, which exceed their forces. The Speculative doth contemplate the Works of God, and the secrets of Nature: She studieth the Harmony of the World, and the marvellous Agreements both of the superiour and inferiour parts composing it. And the end of her contemplation and study is the sa∣tisfaction she receives from known Verities, and acquired Sciences. The Moral flies not ordinarily so high, but her study is Practical, and her Knowledges are applyed to Action. Her Office is to govern the Liberty of Man, to marke him out Bounds, and regulate his Actions; and her ••••nd is to guide those to Happiness who observe these Orders, and keep within the limits thereof.

Surely in all this, there is nothing, which the Understanding of Wo∣men may not attain; nothing which is above their reach, and the tracts which Nature hath laid open to them. Why should they not be as ca∣pable as our selves of Contemplation, and of the Sciences belonging to Speculative Philosophy? Are their souls more Terrestrial, and more fast∣ned to matter then ours? Are they of a different Temper, and of another Extraction? Hath Nature clogged them with some ponderous load? Hath she tyed them with some chain to keep them from ascending? Are they absolutely uncapable of those wings, which Plato hath observed in Con∣templative souls? All things then are equal between Men and Women, in respect of the soul, which is the Intelligent part, and makes Learned men and Philosophers: And if there be any Inequality in relation to the body, as the same cannot be denyed, Women have the advantage, and it Perfects in them the Capacity whereof I Discourse.

Some reproach them with the Humidity of their Complexion; but no Man will reproach them of it, when he shall remember that moistness is the matter of which those Images are formed which are useful to Sciences; That it is the proper temper of the Memory, which is the Depository and Nurse thereof; that it can contribute to the light of the Understanding, as it doth to that of the body; that the moist Stars and Planets, have no less brightness, then the other: And that dry heads are not reputed to be the most replenished, and best furnished.

As for tenderness, without doubt they that make it the subject of their Accusation, have not advised with Aristotle. They would then know, that the most delicate Temper, is the least burthen'd with matter; the most pure, and apt to be penetrated by the Lights of the Understanding: The best prepared for fair Images; and for the Impression of Sciences. Saint Thomas also, being to prove the Natural Excellency of the minde of Iesus Christ, conceived that he could not alleadge a more pertinent Reason, then the Delicacy of his Complexion. And generally the most tender and frail matters are particularly covered in most subtile and perfect Forms. And the rarest and most accomplished pieces of the Arts, are ordinarily framed of Silk, ingraven on Christal, and turned in Ivory. Nature hath but one soul

intelligent & capable of Discipline: And this Soul is the form of the weakest parts of the whole Body. And even in this so frail Body, the seat of the Un∣derstanding and Reason is not in the Bones and Nerves, but in the Brain, which is the softest and most tender part. Whereunto one may likewise add, that in Politick Bodies, the more knowing sort of Men are not composed of Tradesmen and Labourers; of those ignoble Members, who are of strong complexion, and hardened by Labour: They are Studious and Sedentary Persons; such as have been brought up in Repose and in the shade.

Quickness is only remaining, which malicious Persons call Lightness, and whereof they think to compose a strong piece against Women, who pretend to Sciences. But to weaken this piece, and unnerve its force, A question is only to be asked of those who busie themselves about it, Whe∣ther Ponderosity arises from the mind, and Ag••••ty from matter? Whe∣ther the Angels and Planets, Intelligence, and Light, make things heavy and immovable? And whether amongst Men, the able be the slow, and the quick the stupid? Sciences require the wings of Eagles, and not the feet of Tortuses. This is the reason why the Seraphins, who are the most knowing and Theological Intelligences, have wings up to their heads. The very word Discourse is a word of agility and quickness: And not to say, that the eyes which are in us, the only parts capable of Study, cannot Study, but by a continual motion: The Animal spirits, which are assistants of Reason, and the material Springs of an immaterial Action, are the light∣est, and the most agile part of our substance.

Let us then acknowledge, that Women may share with us in the pos∣session of Sciences. Nature had no designe to exclude that Sex from them: And the reasons themselves which are alledged against their Right, con∣firm it the more, and have the force of new titles. It is known also that since the time of the Muses, which were Female Sages erected into God∣desses: there is no Age which hath not had a sufficient number of most capable Women. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hath left us a long Last of Ancient and Modern ones, whose reputation he found to be already perfected, and so many names as he had collected in this Last, are as many efficacious and appa∣rant proofs for the Capacity of Women for Sciences.

But these dead proofs, and remote from our sight, are not necessary for us. We have some which have life and spirit, which perswade our eyes and ears: And when all other proofs should fail us, the sole House of Ram∣••••••••-l••t, would have in this point all the Authority, which an approved and renowned Academy might have. There is in that House a Mother and a Daughter, in whom the pure tincture of the Roman Spirit is pre∣served, with the good Blood and Generosity of the Ancient Republick. They are both of them knowing in the Science of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Iulia's, and the Paulina's their Progenitresses of these judicious and lovely Wo∣men, who were the Cabinet-Councel, the Domestique Theater of Con∣suls and Dictators. But let no man believe that there is a pride and presumption in this Science: That it is one of those which turn the brain

and cause Convulsions in the minde. Let no man take it for a Mass of in∣disgested and tumultuary Notions, for a collection of Fables and Histories learnt by roat. It is Modest and Civil with vigour: It is solid without ostentation and rudeness: It conduceth to the conduct of life, and the regulation of manners: And it wants nothing of that which may give imployment and adress to the Muses, Comeliness and Ornament to the Graces. And of these two rare and learned Persons, there may be made an illustrious Demonstration, concerning the Capacity of Women: And by the same reason that heretofore it hath been said, that Athens was the Greece of Greece, one may well say in reference to them, that the House of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is the Court of the Court: I do not say of the interressed, am∣bitious, and corrupted Court; I say of the ingenious and spiritual, of the Gallant and Modest Court. Nevertheless, whatever I have said, it is not my intention to summon Women to the Colledge; I intend not to make Graduats of them, nor convert their Needles and Distaffs into Astrolabes and Sphears I bear too much respect to the bounds which fever us: And my question is only in order to what they may, and not unto what they ought in the condition wherein things have been placed, whether by the Order of Nature, or by an immemorable Custom, and as old as Nature her self.

But surely, as I would not hold with those who should perform in their Closets all the Exercises and Functions of a Colledge: Who should discourse only in Enthymema's and Syllogisms: And should have no∣thing in their heads but the Ideas of Plato, and the Atoms of Epicurus: So cannot I sufficiently praise those which put themselves under the Dis∣cipline of that other practical and active Philosophy, which illuminates the minde with her lights, and fortifies it with her principles: which esta∣blisheth Decency in Manners, and Stability in Life; which adjusts all Conditions and all Fortunes to her rules. First, if there be a question con∣cerning Capacity, it cannot be brought in dispute in relation to them: Some have been found amongst them, who have followed as close as any man the most sublime and speculative Philosophy; who have run through all that may be open to Humane reason, and have been more eminent then S••••rates and Plato, and more ancient then Aristotle and Theophrastes.

Moreover this practical Philosophy is not of an unknown Country, nor out of the Common Road: It is not needful to have the wings and sight of an Eagle to approach her; one may go thither a foot-pace, and from all the Regions of the World: from all the degrees of State, and from all the orders of life. She hath Disciples that are Soveraigns, and Disciples that are Slaves. And in her Schools King and Subject, Rich and Poor, Master and Servant, have their assigned places according to the diversity of their Conditions, and the difference of their Offices. Besides, the perfection of this Philosophy is not cumbersom, nor subject to disor∣der. She allowes all other Lawful professions, and accommodates her self to all degrees of Fortune: she gives Lessons for affairs, and for the whole world: she gives them also for repose and solitude: And to learn

these Lessons, it is not necessary that a Woman should abandon the ma∣naging of her houshold affairs: That she should be divorced from her Husband; that she should renounce honest Pleasures, and Civil Society, That she should shut her self up in a Chamber hung with Maps, and furnished with Sphears and Astrolabes.

Let us add, that Moral Philosophy hath been given us to order our Passions, to distinguish our Duties, and Offices, to teach the exercises of Vertue, to guide us as by the hand to Beatitude. And have not Womens Passions need of a Governess as well as Ours? May they not be mistaken in their Offices and Duties? Are they born so well instructed, and perfect, that they can learn Vertue without a Lesson or Method? Are they so happy that they can attain to Be atitude by their own address, and without a guid? The injustice would be then extream to deprive them of this Philosophy, the Governess of Passions, the Mistress of Vertues, and the necessary Guide for all those that pretend to Beatitude.

In fine, Women as well as we are to defend themselves against the Gifts, and Outrages of Fortune: They are apt to Swellings and Convul∣sions, which follow good and bad Accidents: And no man hath a head so naturally strong, that be can bear Prosperity without the Vertigo, or Adversity without fainting and weakness. Ought we to expect that Wo∣men should be preserved from all these infirmities by the meer strength of their Constitution; that their heads should not turn round upon the top of the Wheel, and amidst the perfumes of good Fortune, that their hearts should not change their seats, when they themselves shall change their Posture; and that those hearts should stand after their owners fall? There is no Constitution so well prepar'd, nor of so good a temper, from which this Constancy and Equality ought to be expected without the help of Moral Philosophy. And therefore we must conclude, that Philosophy is not only neither against the Decorum, nor beyond the capacity of the second Sex; but that she is an Ornament and a necessary support to it; and that neither good nor gallant Women can be formed, but according to the Designes, and by the Rules of Morality.

All the vertuous and magnanimous Women, which we admire in Hi∣story, have been modelled according to these Designes, and compleated by these Rules. We have known, and do know also some, who have the same features, and are composed after the same manner: And if I did not fear that some might accuse me of Flattery, and Affectation, I would here ma∣nifest, that France hath at this time her Cornelia's and Por••••••s, her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and her 〈◊〉〈◊〉. But let us yield obedience to the Wise-man, who forbids us to praise living Vertues. And let us end this Dispute by an Example, within the Memory of our Fathers, in which we shall behold a learned Princess overcoming with an equal Courage, both the temptations of good, and the outrages of bad Fortune, and by a more then Stoical Constancy, bear∣ing upon a Scaffold, the same countenance, which she had born upon a Throne.

EXAMPLE.

Of Jane Gray of Suffolk, Queen of England.

HEnry the Eight being dead, stain'd with the blood of those Martyrs which he had made; and amidst the Ruines of the Church of England, which he had overthrown, Edward the Son of Scymer his third Wife, succeeded to his Crown and Dominions: But as there is no Seed so unhappy, nor of so short a durance as that of wicked men; so the Excommunication and Curse, which had been Fulminated against the Father, being fallen upon the Son, this poor Prince died before he knew well how to live. And by a Will which he made, through the per∣swassions of Dudley Duke of Northumberland, Jane Gray was declared his Heir. It may be said, without detraction, that this Will was dictated by Ambition: But it may also be said without flattery, that it was made in savour of the Graces and Vertues, to the advantage of the Sciences and Muses: And the Crown of England could not be placed upon a more beautiful head, or which could do it more Honour, then that of the Lady Iane.

She was born with those Attractives and Charmes, which seat a kinde of Soveraignty upon the face of the most beautiful Persons, and which give a Natural Unction to them, and a Diadem without gold or precious stones: Her minde was endued with far more soveraign Attractives, and with Charms of far greater force then her face. And these native and adorning Graces, were accompanied with other acquired and profi∣table ones, which much increased their value, and gave them a second tincture of goodness, and a new lustre. She spake both Greek and Latine as if she had been of Athens and Rome: she had an exact knowledge of the Liberal Sciences, and perfectly understood both kinds of Philosophy. But that which is more to be esteemed then all her Philosophy, more th••n all these Sciences and Tongues; is that during the Raign of Vice and Li∣berty in the time of Henry the Eighth, and after the scandal of Anne of Bullen, she was possessed with the Modesty and Vertue of these blessed dayes, when England was called the Country of Angels.

Nevertheless we must speak the truth: All these so rare and highly p••••••ed qualities, were not considered in the Will, which was made in favour of Iane. Edward died as weak as he had lived: He abandoned his last Testament to the will of the Duke of Northumberland, as he had done all the rest, and the Duke abused him in his death, as he had done in his youth. This ambitious Minister of State, not being content with having Raigned without a Crown by the toleration of his Master to whom he had left but a specious Regality, and a coloured Dignity; perceiving a gate open, by which Iane, who was married to the Lord Guilford his fourth son, might bring the Crown into his House, he undertook to take

it from the Kings sister, and to set it upon her Head, either by Right or Force.

To this effect he besieges the minde of this poor Prince, already spent with his sickness, and disquiered at the presence of death. He was made believe that he could not in Conscience call to the Succession, either Mary the daughter of Katherine of Aragon, or Elizabeth daughter of Anne of Bul∣len. He alledgeth against the first, that being cut off the Royal Family by the Divorce of her Mother, she could not be restored to it without con∣demning the Memory of the deceased King, and without giving Credit and Authority to the Roman Tyranny. He opposed against the other that being stained with the Adulteries and the punishment of her Mother, she would fully the Honour and Dignity of the Crown if she had but touchd it. From thence he concludes, that Iane Gray descended from Henry the seventh by Mary, heretofore Queen of France, being the last drop of Royal blood, which was sound yet pure and without stain; he could not make another Heir, without casting Fire into the Royal Family.

The Declaration was made for these reasons in favour of lane: The Councel of four and twenty approve it, notwithstanding the opposition of the Archbishop of Canterbury: And two dayes after, the King rendring up his soul, Iane is declared Queen of England. Her Father the Duke of Suffolk, and the Duke of Northumberland, Father to her Husband, went to acquaint her with this news, and prepare her to receive chearfully so great a Fortune. This Fortune was the first dangerous Temperess, against which Iane had need of Inspirations, and helps from Philosophy.

And here it will be confessed, that one ought to be supported by Philo∣sophy; That one ought to have a heart extreamly good, and a strong head peece, not to fall into a Trance at such news. Reason ought to be very clear, and the understanding very pure to recive without amazement so sudden and surprising a vapour. I might also apprehend that I should not be believed, but rather accused of an Hyperbole, if I said, that Iane re∣ceived one of the greatest Crowns of the World, with the same Modera∣tion, as if she had received a Posie of Violets. Regality is not a present to be taken with heaviness, and a negligent hand. It is a kinde of humane Deification: It is the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 between God and Man: And even the Phi∣losophers and Sages, I mean austere Philosophers, and unbyassed Sages, have in all times esteemed it so much, that Pythag••ras and Zeno, the Patri∣arks of Stoicks, and the most zealous Preachers of Indolence and Aspi∣rity, seeing themselves not called to Soveraignty by Fortune, and not knowing how to attain to it by a straight and lawful way, were so bold as to use violence, and aspire to it by Tyrannie. However I will not descend from so high a proposition: I intend to go yet higher, and will rise to something which is more eminent and more Heroick. Iane would have re∣ceived at least civilly, and with thanks a Posie of Violets: She absolutely refused the Crown of England: And this so gallant and generous a refusal proceeded from a more Stoical soul then that of Zeno, from a more Philo∣sophical heart then that of Pythagoras.

Not that she did not well understand the value of this Crown which she refused: Nor was she affrighted with so resplendent a Fortune, as she would have been terrified by a luminous Fantosme presented before her eyes. But she knew also that there was Weight and Thornes in this Crown▪ And this Fortune with all its Glory, and all these Charms did not tempt her, not appeared to her so lovely, as Justice, Tranquility, or Philosophy. Solicited by the Supplications and Reasons of her Kindred and Husband, who press'd her to consent to her greatness, and not to reject a Felicity which is rare, and never presents it self twice to the same Gate: She answered, t

hat the Laws of the Kingdom, and Natural right stand∣ing for the Kings Sisters, she would beware of burthening her Head and Conscience with a Yoke which did belong to them: that she under∣stood the Infamy of those who had permitted the violation of Right to gain a Crown. But it were to mock God, and deride Justice to scruple at the stealing of a shilling, and not at the Usurpation of a Crown. Be∣sides, went she on, I am not so young, nor so little read in the guiles of Fortune to suffer my self to be taken by them: If she inrich any one, it is but to make him the subject of her spoil: If she raise others, it is but to please her self with their ruins. What she adored but yesterday, is to day her pastime. And if I now permit her to adorn and Crown me, I must to morrow suffer her to crush and tear me in pieces. Besides, with what Crown she doth present me? A Crown which hath been violently and shamefully wrested from Katherine of Arragon, who dislikes the punish∣ment of Arme of Bullen, and of others, who wore it after her. Why would you have me add my blood to theirs, and to be the fourth Victime, from whom this Fatal Crown may be ravished with the Head? But in case it should not prove fatal to me, and that all its venom were consumed: If Fortune should give me warranties of her Constancy; should I be well advised to take upon me these Thornes which would delacerate, though not kill me outright; to burthen my self with a Yoke, which would not fail to torment me, though I were assured not to be strangled with it? My Liberty is better then the chain you proffer me, with what precious stones soever adorned, and of what gold soever framed. I will not exchange my Peace for Honourable and Precious Jealousies, for magnificent and glorious Fetters. And if you love me sincerely, and in good earnest, you will rather wish me a secure and quiet Fortune, though mean, then an elevated Condition exposed to the wind, and followed by some Dis∣mal fall.

These Reasons were powerful, and must needs be perswasive, yet they took not effect: The ambition of the Dukes of Northumberland and Suf∣folk was more prevalent. The Lord Guilford fortified her with his reasons: And Iane overcome by so many pressing Solicitors, and in Authority, re∣signed to them her Freedom and Life. This resignation, proceeded from a Soveraign Vertue, and a consummated Philosophy: And not doubting but a Scaffold was prepared for her behinde the Throne; and that the Crown which was offered her might not cause the loss of her Head, she

submitted her self to Fortune, and consented to accept of Soveraignty with more courage and moderation, then she had refused it. Matters being thus concluded, they brought her to London, where she was solemnly ac∣knowledged Queen, and received with Ceremony, the Oath of Fealty from all degrees. But this Oath held as little as her Soveraignty. And scarce had she spent ten days in the Tower, according to the Ceremony observed by new Kings, but the Parliament and People retracted them Oath and Ac∣clamations, and delivered her up to the Princess, Mary, her Rival, and the Lawful Heir of the Crown.

A more Eloquent man then my self, would say, that Fortune irritated by her Refusals, plaid her this Prank to humble her Virtue, and to take revenge of the cruelty of her Philosophy: I had rather say, and I will speak it more Christianly, and with more appearance of truth, that it was God who per∣mitted this revolution, to save Jane by her fall; and to draw to himself by a Scaffold, so pure and couragious a Virtue, which evidently had perished if she had grown old upon the Throne. There are dangerous Prosperities, and scandalous ••levations, which God grants us in his wrath. There are wholsom Adversities, and edifying Falls: And those happen to us when God resumes for us his thoughts of Peace, and disposeth us to Grace. Ma∣terial men, who onely behold the present and outside of things, judge far otherwise of them: But this Judgement, to speak properly, is a Judge∣ment of frantick men, who had rather dye with Ragou••s, then to be cured with Rhubarb; They triumph in the danger of their Souls, and praise God for the marks of Reprobation. They deplore the presages and earnest of their Salvation: And they desire so unhandsomly, they pray so propo∣strously, and in so bad terms, as if God were to punish them, he could not do it more severely, then in hearing their prayers, and g••anting their Petiti∣ons.

Iane judged more solidly of Gods designs, and of the course of his Pro∣vidence: And albeit so great a Revolution was a very distasteful Remedy, yet she couragiously resigned her self thereunto, and took it with much cheerfulness. Being sent prisoner to the Tower of London, it was observed that she entred it with as Serene a countenance, and with the same dignity of look and action, as she had done the first time to begin the sad Cere∣mony of her fatal Reign. While she remained there, she remitted nothing of her Constancy, and her usual Studies. Vigour and Authority appeared in all her words: all her actions were free through the freedom of her Minde; which was enriched with a milde Grace, and a confident Mode∣sty: And even in the Pallace, and upon the Throne it self, she could not have more Majesty, nor appear more Resplendant and Sove¦raign.

The Sentence of Death being pronounced, she Couragiously submitted to it, and answered nothing else, but

That her Crime was not for having laid her hand upon the Crown, but for not having rejected it with force enough. That she had less erred through Ambition, then out of respect and reverence to her friends: That her respect, nevertheless, was a Crime,

and that her reverence deserved punishment: that she would willingly admit of death▪ and that she could do no less then render satisfaction to the State, and voluntarily take off, and in obedience to the Laws, the Scandal which she had given by a forced Obedience and rendred by con∣straint to her kindred.

Her Husband condemned to the same punishment, having sent to give her the last visit, to the end he might arm himself with the example of her Constancy, and by the vertue of her last words. She sent him word,

That he demanded a lenative, which would put fire into the wound; and that it was to be feared, her presence would rather weaken, then strengthen him. That he ought to take courage from his Reason, and derive Constancy from his own heart, and that if his soul were not firm and settled, she could not settle it by her eyes, nor confirm it by her words: That he should do well to remit this interview to the other world: That there, indeed friendships were happy, and Unions indissolvable; and that theirs would be ••••ternal, if their souls carried nothing with them of Terre∣strial, which might hinder them from rejoyning.

As she was led to the place of Execution, she passed by a Gallery from whence she saw her Husbands body carried to the Chappel of the Tower. This unexpected Object somewhat moved her, and begot compassion in her. But it was a manly, and wel becoming compassion; and this Emoti∣on did not so strongly invade her mind, as to hinder it from furnishing her in repose with three Sentences, in three Languages. She wrote them down in her Table-book, which she gave to the Lieutenant of the Tower, with an excuse for the trouble she had given him. The Greek expressed, that if his Executed body should give testimony against her before men, his most blessed soul would give an Eternal proof in the presence of God, of her Innocence. The Latin added, that humane Justice was against his Body, but the Divine mercy would be for his Soul. The English con∣cluded, that if her fault deserved punishment, her youth at least, and her imprudence, were worthy of excuse; and that God and posterity would shew her favor.

Constancie, Grace, and Majesty, which had ever accompanied her, as∣cended also upon the Scaffold with her. One would have said that all that was seen there could be nothing else but a meer representation of her punishment; And that all this Tragical preparation, was but a fiction, and a meer Ceremony. She rendred thanks to the Catholick Divine, who had assisted her, and comforted her dispairing servants, with so well composed a manner, and with so vigorous and Noble words, so full of Judgement and Courage, as it seemed to some, that if Philosophy her self had been to dye, she could not have dyed more couragiously, and with more Dignity.

She made her self ready for the stroak of the Executioner; and to hum∣ble her beauty, though it were innocent of her Misfortune, she made a Wreath or Head-band of her own Hair, whereof it seemed Nature had formed her a Diadem. They offered to strike off her head with a Sword, as

if the Sword could have diminished the shame of her punishment, and Dignified her Death, and the hand of the Executioner. But she rejected this unprofitable and superstitious Ceremony: And resolved to be Execu∣ted with the same Ax which newly came from the Execution of her Hus∣band: Whether that she desired to mingle her bloud with his; Whether she believed that a more painful death would be a more just Expiation of her faults: And that the Iron of the Ax would better purifie her soul, then the Iron of the Sword.

Such was the end of the Reign and Life of Iane Grey, who was an A∣thenian and Roman in England many Ages after the ruin of Athens and Rome. She shewed our Predecessors an Image of the ancient Constancy, and pri∣mitive Vertue. And taught us that the Graces may be learned, as well as the Muses; That Philosophy belongs to both Sexes; And that even in our daies, under the Purple, and upon the Throne, she might be as vigorous and couragious, as she was heretofore under the Wallet, and in the Tub of the Sunck.