He had a Robust, and Strong Body, capable of the greatest Hardships. He was Naturally Active, a great lover of Exercise, Healthful and Temperate to Admiration. He neither Courted nor Fear'd Danger; ever Himself, ever For­tunate, ever preventing the worst, and Surmounting the greatest Diffi­culties.

He would not presume to Command, before he knew perfectly how to Obey. He began by the smallest charge of the Army; and ow'd his Advancement, nei­ther to the advantage of his Quality, being then Count of the Holy Empire, or to the Credit of his Friends; but to his own Personal Merit: He did not Court, but Command his Advancement; and so distinguish'd himself, as to fix the eyes of Europe upon him, and perswade the World, that he had no Obstacle, but his Religion, to the greatest Honour that France could give him.

But omitting the particular account of what he did in an Inferiour Station, as that that would change a Panegyrick into History, and swell a Discourse into a Volume: we shall only praise what seems most considerable. Thus laying aside Bourbourg, then a most important place to the French, defended by the DUKE against two powerful Armies, which he [Page 14]forc'd by his Conduct to Raise the Siege; and the tedious Wars of Rousillon; What more Glorious or Successful? What more Wise and Fortunate, than the business of Portugal? That Kingdom had fallen into the hands, and remain'd some years un­der the Command of Spain. A happy Conspiracy, if that Name can be given to the Asserting the Liberties, and securing the Throne of a Nation, broke at last the fatal Yoke. But the grief of losing the Fruit of an Usurpation, to which time had given the face of a good Title, rais'd the Fury, and stirr'd up the whole Power of the Spaniards: Besides the Na­tural Strength of that People, who are ge­nerally Brave and Great; they had Peace with France: They were easily perswaded, that their united Forces, would quickly oblige their Enemy to return to their Obedience. Thus they pour'd their vast Armies into the very Bowels of Portugal; and had almost put a period to the [Page 15]War, and to that strange Revolution. It was then, and not before, that the Duke was sent to Command what Forces the Distressed Portugueses could make. His Name rais'd their drooping Spirits: His Valour made 'em Brave, and his Conduct Wise: He retook their Towns, and beat their Enemies in all the Rencounters he had with them: He overcame them in several Battels. But in the last, wherein Don Juan of Austria had receiv'd vast Reinforcements from Spain, and was resolved either to perish, or secure that Country to his King, who had been at so vast an Expence of Blood and Treasure to preserve it; He Defeated him so absolutely, that he never appear'd more.

The Spaniard was forc'd to accept of a Peace, which before the Duke's coming, he could not be prevail'd upon to grant; to Treat with those he had call'd Rebels, as with his Equals; and to acknowledge Portugal a Free and an Independent King­dom.

All Europe was amaz'd at this: The Poets and Orators fill'd the World with his Praises. France who is equitable to none, but those whom they think will advance their Interests, was just to him in that point: Lewis the Invincible, who shall be so, till William the Third can meet him in the Field, sent to offer him the Baston of Mareschal de France; a Dignity, which is to this day the greatest Reward of Me­rit in Christendom; as Ancient as that Mo­narchy, and never paid but to Eminent Services. But indeed, it was offer'd on a Condition, which the Duke rather than accept, would have forfeited all the Glory of his past Life. It was desir'd of him, that he would leave the Religion of his Ancestors, and be of that of the Prince who employ'd him. This was urg'd with all the earnestness imaginable, and such Insinuations added to it, as would have shaken the constantest Man. But oh, the Power of Honour and Religion! oh, the [Page 17]Resolution of a setled Mind! The Duke answer'd the King, That he thought himself extremely unhappy, that his Majesty should have so ill an Opinion of him, as to think that all that is Great in the World, could make him change his Religion. That if, upon such low Mo­tives, he abandon'd the Service of the God of his Fathers, he should deserve the scorn of all Men, and in particular of his Majesty: And that he who was not true to God, could never be faithful to his Prince. Thus he declin'd the Splendid Offer; and shew'd a Soul that was proof against the most pressing Temptations of Mankind.

But his Merit, a short time after forc't that Dignity from their hands. The vast Designs of France, made them dispence with their Bigottry: They were sensible, that those Men carry'd Success and Victo­ry at their heels: That King then sent him the BASTON, without any other condi­tion than that of serving his Prince; and could but admire his Generosity, equal to [Page 18]a Great Man of the same time, in all other parts; but much greater in this, that the other was overcome; lost first his Religion, and shortly after his Fortune with his Life.

CATALONIA and FLANDERS saw him with this increase of Honour. In the one, he represt the Insolence of the Spaniard. In the other, he laid the foundation of those Conquests, which like a rapid stream did since overrun the Spanish Netherlands. He oblig'd the Heroe of this Age to raise the Siege of Maestrick, when nothing but a Surrender was ex­pected.

His vast Skill in Military Affairs, made the Souldier bold and secure under him. No attempt seem'd difficult, if but done by his Command. He was the Love as well as the Terror of his Enemies. For no General was ever so averse from Vio­lence, even against those he had vanquisht. The War was never with him, what it is [Page 19]now with some Generals the other side of the Sea, where burning of Towns, laying a whole Country in Ashes, and sparing neither Age nor Sex, is lookt on as a great commendation to Po­sterity.

The furious Zeal of the common Di­sturbers of Mankind, I mean the Jesuits, having rais'd a violent Persecution against the French Protestants; The Duke was in­volv'd in their Fate; and forc'd to leave a Service so highly Honour'd, Advanc'd, and Oblig'd by him. His Great Soul, would not suffer him so much as to complain. He was mov'd with every bodies loss, but his own; and pity'd those unfortunate Counsels, which depriv'd a Prince of so many of his best Subjects.

His Imperial Majesty had some thoughts to offer him the Command of his Armies. But this was soon obstructed by the Jesuits Faction; a sort of Men, whom it is even dangerous for Crown'd Heads [Page 20]to disoblige. Several other Princes courted him to their Dominions: His Duty car­ry'd him to the late Elector of BRAN­DENBOƲRGH, a Wise, a Religious, a Brave, and a Fortunate Prince.

ENGLAND then began to be distracted, not with Fears and Jealousies, but real Terrours. It had no more the looks of that happy Island; where Peace and Plen­ty, Honour and Security, seem'd to have seated themselves for ever. King JAMES declaring himself for a Religion so incon­sistent with the Laws, Interests, and In­clinations of the People, banisht every thing that could be call'd Joy. But his endeavouring to supplant the Ancient Re­ligion; to subvert the Laws; and assume to himself a Power, destructive of the very Constitution of this Government, fill'd all Men with an incredible Sorrow. The Consternation was much increast by that Declaration, which put no bounds to any sort of Profaneness. The Im­prisoning [Page 21]the Reverend Prelates of this Church, made them think it high time to look to themselves. The Eyes, the Hearts, the Prayers of the Nation, were all di­rected to him who has undertaken and perform'd our Deliverance.

His Majesty Came, Saw, and Conquer'd King JAMES: But did not think the Enterprise easie or likely to succeed, with­out a General of Reputation. SCHON­BERG, the Famous'st Captain of this Age, was the King's choice; and this I take to be the highest Commendation can be given him, and the finest part of that Picture which is now drawing. That the Croud should spend themselves in loud Acclamations: That Orators, Poets, and Gazetteers, should noise it all the world over, is indeed considerable. But that King WILLIAM, who has so great an in­sight in Men; who is himself for Wisdom and Valour, for Conduct and Courage, the admiration of all People, should trust [Page 23]him with the Undertaking, speaks the whole Character of the Duke, better than any thing that can be said of him.

Heaven seem'd to have prepar'd a con­course of Causes, to work and hasten that astonishing Revolution which we have seen, and Posterity will scarce believe. Such were the Religion of King JAMES; The rashness of his Counsels; The laying aside his Fathers and Brothers Friends; The contriving to Ridicule and Ruine a Church, which is the best Support to the Crown; and above all things, the false Glory of imitating LEWIS the 14th, in being confin'd by no Law, and pro­ceeding by Arbitrary Methods: All these things made way for this wonderful change. He had a numerous and fine Army. He was made to believe that his Subjects would tamely yield to any thing. He could not be perswaded, that Englishmen would rouse at last, and secure themselves and their Laws. He shar'd already in his [Page 22]mind with LEWIS of France, the Glory of extirpating the Northern Heresie.

But oh the Vanity of Men, whose De­signs fight against God, and are not mo­dell'd by the Rules of Justice and Equi­ty! His now Majesty Lands, and God who takes away the Spirit of Princes, left King JAMES no Resolution. But this may be assur'd with Truth, that the Duke's coming over, helpt as much as any thing to distract his Councils. The King's Forces were far from being nu­merous; but the Name of SCHONBERG alone was an Army. His Age, his Repu­tation, his Fortune, gave a quick motion to the undertaking: The old General had crost the Sea with chearfulness, and a cer­tain alacrity, which is an undoubted sign of Victory. But the Almighty would have the success wholy due to himself. The Kingdom call'd in a Conqueror, but was not Conquer'd; or if it can be call'd a Conquest, it was only of the Hearts [Page 23] [...] [Page 22] [...] [Page 24]of the Nation, who Conspir'd to make themselves happy, by declaring WILLIAM and MARY King and Queen.

But Ireland alter'd the Face of Affairs, and prov'd the Seat of that War which we had so happily avoided. There King JAMES found not only a retreat, but also a numerous Army. He overrun that Kingdom with an incredible celerity; and found no resistance but in LONDON-DERRY; a place, where the Courage of of the Inhabitants, and the Zeal of an honest Clergy man supply'd the want of Walls, of Guns, and all other things ne­cessary for the maintenance of a long Siege.

The Duke was sent thither with Forces highly magnify'd to us, or to Foreign Nations; but inconsiderable in themselves. Yet he undertook the charge; and let the Irish know of his Arrival, by the taking of Carrick-fergus, Belfast, and securing to his Royal Master the North of Ireland. [Page 25]He met there with Enemies unknown to him before, and which would have daunted any but an Invincible Courage; and tho' the rest of that Campaign, be not famous by the taking of Towns, giving of Bat­tels, and other Events of noise in the world; yet Envy it self must confess, that to consider the thing in it self, none but SCHONBERG could have done what was done the last Winter. Mortality rag'd then to that degree, that the greatest Defeat could not have consum'd more of his Men. The Army was reduc'd to one half, and that half afflicted with infinite distempers. There was scarce two thou­sand in the whole, that did not share the common Calamity: Add to this an incredible scarcity of all things; and the rage of Hunger, more cruel than that of the Sword. Attackt from above by con­tinual Rains; weakn'd below by Mortal Diseases; consum'd within with want; and fac'd without, with a numerous [Page 26]Army, yet he secur'd the North of Ire­land; grew upon his Enemies, and made way for that absolute Conquest, reserv'd to our Great Deliverer.

He liv'd to see it, and helpt to reap those Laurels, which Crown'd the Sacred Head of WILLIAM the Third: The Ri­ver Boyn saw the Conqueror lead a Vi­ctorious Army; and decide at one stroke the Fortune of that Kingdom: Unhappy only in this, that there the Great SCHON­BERG was lost: An Unknown and In­glorious hand gave him the fatal blow; and depriv'd the World of one of its greatest Ornaments. And this sets off the Vanity of Humane Things, beyond the improvements of Eloquence: No Greatness secures from the Grave; and He, who had run through so many dangers, and left nothing to Fortune in any of the Actions of his Life; is involv'd in the common Fate, and dies the Death of a Private Souldier.

Thus, Falls Frederick Duke of Schon­berg, Marquess of Harwich, Count of the Holy Empire, State-Holder of Prussia, Grandee of Spain, Mares­chal de France, General of the Forces of England, France, Portugal, &c. Who for Valour, Honour, and all the Accomplishments of a Great Captain, if we except King WILLIAM, to whose Blood all these things are Hereditary, has not left his Equal behind him.

But all that has been said here, is but one part of his Character. He is as ad­mirable in his Private, as in his Publick Capacities; and there is as ample a Cata­logue of his Vertues, as of his Exploits.

To be Great and Good is extraordi­nary and difficult. To live in the Noise and Violence of Wars, and yet preserve a Religious Temper, and a Conscience tender of the least Evil, is infinitely rare. [Page 28]To be as intent to overcome our Selves, as our Enemies, is the highest improve­ment of Vertue; all this was in the Duke to an eminent degree. He was of an Affable, Candid, and Obliging Nature. It was harder to him to deny a Favour, than to another to be deny'd. He ne­ver suffer'd himself to be askt, when he saw a real Merit; and refus'd with an extream Civility, what he could not grant.

Temperance, which in most Men is an acquir'd Habit, and the reward of re­peated Endeavours, was in him only the result of a happy Nature. LƲCAN said of CATO, in a lofty way of Expression, par­donable to none but a Stoick, That the Illustrious Roman rather suffer'd than enjoy'd any Pleasure. As if Passion could raise us above Passion, and Sense make us in­sensible. But it must truly be said of the Duke, that those Lusts never master'd him; which if they were not so general­ly indulg'd, would look strangely to Men [Page 29]of Honour. His Duty was his greatest Passion; and the discharge of the Noble-Trusts put into his hands, his only plea­sure. And besides the Infinite Blessings which Temperance heaps on its Admirers; to this may be attributed that strength; that vivacity, that soundness of mind and body, which he preserv'd to a vast Age; and might have done many years longer, had not the Unfortunate Blow prevented it.

He was of a Frugal, and yet a mag­nificent Disposition. Nothing so Noble as his Houshold, his Equipage, his way of Living: And yet nothing of Luxury, Pride, Ostentation, and a certain desire to look Great by Colour and Noise.

He was in his different Employments, the only Person who did not praise his own Actions; as silent, as if he had not been concern'd in the things that were said of him: and in this, truly Great, to be above the mean Insinuations of [Page 30]Flatterers. A Famous Wit in France, was commanded to Compliment him at his return from Portugal; and to make his Atchievements in that Country, the chief Theam of his Harangue. He did it to the Admiration of all who heard him, but the Duke's. His Modesty was more troubl'd at his Praises, than ever his Courage at the sight of the Spanish Bat­talions. He told plainly the Orator, That he had done nothing to deserve that large Encomium; but only endeavour'd, to be as instrumental as he could to the Glory of his Prince.

What shall I say of the Nobleness of his Mind; and of that Character of Honour, Truth, and Justice, which was so Natural to him: Exact to the Rules of Civility, Breeding, and all the Ac­complishments of Men of Quality; things that seem'd to be born with him; and yet incapable of the Dissimulation, and other sordid Arts of Court. He could [Page 31]not promise, what he did not intend to perform. All his Offers of Service, were Realities. Free from that duplicity and emptiness, which with some Affectation of Mode and Gallantry, make up now the Gentleman.

And as for the evenness of his Tem­per, which in a hot and strong Constitu­tion is the more to be admir'd, it can scarcely be exprest. He was of an easie Access, and an incredible Patience. Ne­ver Angry, never Distasted, but alwaies the same, willing to oblige, and averse from displeasing even the most ordinary People. The most surprising dangers, never betray'd in him any fear. The most Glorious Successes never shew'd in him any Pride. Master of himself in an Adverse Fortune: But that that is much rarer, Master of himself in a prosperous State.

These Accomplishments flow'd from a Religious Temper. Piety that admira­ble [Page 32]Discipline, which Divinises Man, and raises him above himself, was his conti­nual Application. The Softness of the Court; the Violence of Wars, and the distraction of Great Employments, could not bear down in him that standing Principle of his Life. He fear'd him who is worthy to be fear'd; and lookt upon Atheism and Profaneness, as Enormities to be detested by all Men; but wholy in­consistent with the Temper of Persons of Honour.

He was Bred in the Protestant Reli­gion: But did not owe the Zeal he had for it, to the first Impressions of Educa­on, or the Examples of his Ancestors, but to the inward Conviction of his Mind. One of the strongest Arguments to embrace it, is, that it is highly Ratio­nal in it self, and free from those Impo­sitions, which other Opinions force on our Reason. It protests not only against the ill waies of propagating Religion, [Page 33]such as Cruelty and Violence; Hypo­crisie and Unfaithfulness: But against those designs also, that are irreconcilable to the innate Notions, and Apprehensions of Mankind.

The Duke was not then a Protestant, be­cause it was the Religion of his Country, or the Stream of the Times. He did not per­severe in it, as Men do in those ways, which once espous'd, they cannot be perswaded to abandon. He was perfectly acquainted with those Arguments, which evince the Truth of what we believe. This made him inaccessible to the repeated Endeavours of a sort of Men, whose chief care is to creep into Noble Families: And under pretence of winning their Souls to God, get their Estates to themselves: Attempting to cor­rupt those Consciences which they cannot inform: working upon the Senses and Lusts of Men: And by the imaginary Hopes of this, making them forfeit those of the next World.

The surest Argument that we are perswad­ed of the Truth, being to practice what we believe; the DƲKE had always a sincere Attachment to any thing that was a part of Religion. He was free from Affectation, Big­gottry, and a sort of intemperate Zeal, which is rather a Scandal than a further­ance to Christianity. But of the other side, as exact to the Publick and Private Duties of Piety; as if his Life had not been taken up with Military Troubles, but consecrated to Heavenly Cares. It was said of Theodosius, by the Eloquent Bishop of Milan, That his Household had in the Royal Palace of a Prince, the Devotion of a Monastery. Really, the DƲKE of SCHONBERG sufferd no Vice in his Family; and his way of living, was the best Pattern that could be given his Ser­vants. And as for those Magnificent Offers, which the Court of France made him so often, of Honour and Advancement, if he would be perswaded to Change his Religi­on: How could he catch at those Bairs, who was ready to venture all that he had [Page 35]in the World, rather than be guilty of so odious a Sin?

It is an easie thing to talk Eloquently, and even Zealously of Religion. The World is full of Persons who can do it to admira­tion. But to lose for it Honours, Estates, Dig­nities; and readily to forsake all that can make our Life pleasing and happy, is given but to few. It is a Vertue of the Primitive times, which ours are seldom capable of. And whether it comes from the stupendi­ous degeneracy of Mankind; or God's an­ger to us, who gives us over to our Passions; that Heroick temper of Christianity, is al­most worn out of the World.

We saw it reviv'd in this admirable per­son; who when it came to the point, either to Worship with his Prince in the Temple of Rimmon; or lose not only his Favour, but with it a splendid Fortune; chose rather to suffer affliction with the People of God, than to enjoy the pleasure of Sin for a Season, and esteem'd the Reproach of Christ, greater Rich­es than the Treasures of Egypt.

When rageing Popery, not satisfied with the havock it had made of the Lives and Fortunes of ordinary Men, durst even at­tempt Persons of the first Rank; it fixt on the Duke as the grand Object of its Hatred. He was one who could never be brought to humour their Superstitious Follies; or give any hopes of reconciliation to the pretended Infallible See. The natural Cha­racter of his Mind, rais'd him above the Frowns and Caresses of the then Ministers, and as his advancement was not influenc'd by their Friendship, so he would not owe his preservation to their Pity.

Nor did ever the Spirit of Jesuitism ap­pear more in its true Colours, than in the Duke's Case; that is, ill natur'd, hard heart­ed, and inflexible.

The remembrance of so many important Services done to France: His indefatigable Zeal in prosecuting the Interests of that Crown: His so often try'd Loyalty to their present King in times of distress: The un­parallel'd Modesty and Wisdom of his Car­riage [Page 37]to them of that Religion, could not secure him from their Fury. He must not only cease to live glorious, but even to live at all, except he is Proselyted to the Church of ROME. And the mildest temper that this Charitable Church could find, was, that by a voluntary, he shuld prevent a forc'd Banishment.

Thou didst receive the Blow with intre­pidity; and gav'st to all the Members of a Purer Religion, an Example fitter for the Primitive times of the Church, than those last days of ours. Thou could'st pre­serve thy Duty to God in the Engagements of a secular Life; and sacrifice the Interests of thy Fortune, the Felicity of this World, and the Advantages of thy Family, to the Obligations of thy Conscience. Like Holy Eleazar, no Oppression, no Violence, no Rage of a furious Antiochus, could make thee abjure the Laws of thy Fathers; the Pious Customs of thy Ancestors; or the Love of thy People. Thy old Age would not be stain'd with so foul an Infamy; and give [Page 38]ground to Posterity, to say, that the GREAT SCHONBERG, blemish'd the Glory and In­nocency of his Life, by yielding shamefully to the Promises or Threatnings of the Ene­mies of his God.

At past seventy years old, THE DƲKE saw himself strip'd of all that he had in France; and as much as lay in his Enemies Power, expos'd to the wide World. Yet he did not so much as complain of a Govern­ment, in which it is hard to say, which is most Eminent, Cruelty, or Treachery? He did not exclaim against the Ingratitude of a Country, which his Valour had ren­der'd both Safe and Glorious. Nor so much as wish'd the Powers above to punish the extream injustice of those left in trust below.

He had scarce left that Kingdom, and thought himself secure from that Barba­rous Oppression which leaves nothing un­attempted to carry on its Designs; but he fell into a new sort of danger. He was o­vertaken at Sea by a Storm, which, contra­ry to the nature of things extreamly vio­lent, [Page 39]prov'd tedious and lasting. Two days and two Nights that Element was in a rage, and mock'd both the Pilots skill and the Sea-mens endeavours. There was no calm but in the DƲKE's Looks, who knowing whence the Blow came, apply'd himself to divert it. He caus'd continual Prayers in the Ship, to be made to him who Com­mands the Waves to be still. That Piety which had supported him in so many dan­gers, was their Preservation. God seem'd to have given him the Souls of these Men. There is none of them that perish'd, or suf­fer'd Injury.

He is now himself in the Port; free from the Troubles and Agitations of this Life. He has chang'd the Glories of this World, in­to the solid Blessings of the other. What­soever he did in this, was only in order to that. He has obtain'd it, and finish'd a long course of Vertue and Honour. He lives to Posterity, by the large share he has secur'd to himself of the History of this Age; and his Name cannot be forgotten, so long [Page 40]as Men are capable of admiring great Actions.

But he has taken a surer way to perpetu­ate his Memory; and that is by leaving two Sons behind him, who are two exact Copies of that excellent Original. HIS GRACE, CHARLES, now DƲKE of SCHONBERG; and the Right Honou­rable MENAR, Count of SCHONBERG; Persons of that Nobleness of Mind, Repu­tation in the World, Capacity for Milita­ry Affairs, Religion, Conduct, Wisdom, Courage, Sincerity, Candor, and all the Vertues of Men of great Quality, as have already, and will in few Years more, find ample matter for the largest Panegyrick.