other. But I confefs, Madam, I am already byals'd in my Choice: I can easily refign to others the Praife of Your Illuftrious Family, and that Glory which you derive from a long continu'd Race of Princes, famous for their Actions both in Peace and War: I can give up to the Hiftorians of your Country, the Names of fo many Generals and Heroes which croud their Annals; and to our own, the Hopes of thofe which you are to produce for the British Chronicle. I can yield, without Envy, to the Nation of Poets, the FamiJy of Efte, to which Ariosto and Taffo have ow'd their Patronage; and to which the World has ow'd their Poems: But I could not without extream Reluctance refign the Theme of your Beauty to another Hand. Give me leave, Madam, to acquaint the World that I am Jealous of this Subject; and let it be no Difhonour to you, that after having rais'd the Admiration of Mankind, you have infpir'd one Man to give it Voice. But with whatsoever Vanity this new Honour of being your Poet has fill'd my Mind, I confefs my felf too weak for the Infpiration; the Prieft was always unequal to the Oracle: The God within him was too mighty for his Breaft: He labour'd with the facred Revelation, and there was more of the Mystery left behind, than Divinity it felf could enable him to exprefs. I can but difcover a Part of your Excellencies to the World; and that too according to the Meafure of my own Weakness. Like thofe who have furvey'd the Moon by Glaffes, I can only tell of a new and fhining World above us, but not relate the Riches and Glories of the Place. 'Tis therefore that I have already wav'd the Subject of your Greatness, to refign my felf to the Contemplation of what

is

is more peculiarly yours. Greatness is indeed

communicated to fome few of both Sexes; but Beauty is confin'd to a more narrow compass : 'Tis only in your Sex, 'tis not fhar'd by many, and its Supreme Perfection is in you alone. And here, Madam, I am proud that I cannot Flatter: You have reconcil'd the differing Judgments of Mankind: For all Men are equal in their Judgment of what is eminently beft. The Prize of Beauty was disputed only till you were feen; but now all Pretenders have withdrawn their Claims: There is no Competition but for the fecond Place. Even the fairest of our Ifland (which is fam'd for Beauties) not daring to commit their Caufe against you, to the Suffrage of those who most partially adore them. Fortune has, indeed, but render'd Juftice to fo much Excellence, in fetting it fo high to publick View: Or, rather Providence has done Juftice to it felf, in placing the most perfect Workmanship of Heaven, where it may be admir'd by all Beholders. Had the Sun and Stars been feated lower, their Glory had not been communicated to all at once; and the Creator had wanted fo much of his Praise, as he had made your Condition more obfcure. But he has plac'd you fo near a Crown, that you add a Luftre to it by your Beauty. You are join'd to a Prince who only could deferve you: Whofe Conduct, Courage, and Succefs in War, whofe Fidelity to his Royal Brother, whofe Love for his Country, whofe Conftancy to his Friends, whofe Bounty to his Servants, whofe Juftice to Merit, whofe inviolable Truth, and whofe Magnanimity in all his Actions, feem to have been rewarded by Heav'n by the Gift of you. You are never feen but you are bleft: And I am fure

A s

you

ト

you blefs all those who see you. We think not the Day is long enough when we behold you: And you are fo much the Business of our Souls, that while you are in fight, we can neither look nor think on any elfe. There are no Eyes for other Beauties: You only are prefent, and the reft of your Sex are but the unregarded Parts that fill your Triumph. Our Sight is fo intent on the Object of its Admiration, that our Tongues have not leifure even to praife you: For Language feems too low a thing to exprefs your Excellence; and our Souls are speaking fo much within, that they defpife all foreign Converfation. Every Man, even the Dulleft, is thinking more than the most Eloquent can teach him how to utter. Thus, Madam, in the midst of Crouds you reign in Solitude; and are ador'd with the deepest Veneration, that of Silence. 'Tis true, you are above all mortal Wifhes: No Man defires Impoffibilities, because they are beyond the reach of Nature: To hope to be a God, is Folly exalted into Madness: But by the Laws of our Creation we are oblig'd to adore him; and are permitted to love him too, at human Distance. Tis the Nature of Perfection to be attractive; but the Excellency of the Object refines the Nature of the Love. It ftrikes an Impreffion of awful Reverence; 'tis indeed that Love which is more properly a Zeal than Paffion. 'Tis the Rapture which Anchorets find in Prayer, when a Beam of the Divinity fhines upon them; That which makes them defpife all worldly Objects, and yet 'tis all but Contemplation. They are feldom vifited from above; but a fingle Vifion fo transports them, that it makes up the Happiness of their Lives. Mortality cannot bear it often:

It

It finds them in the Eagernefs and Height of their
Devotion, they are fpeechlefs for the Time that
it continues, and proftrate and dead when it de-
parts. That Ecftafie had need be ftrong, which
without any End, but that of Admiration, has
Power enough to deftroy all other Paffions. You
render Mankind infenfible to other Beauties; and
have destroy'd the Empire of Love, in a Court
which was the Seat of his Dominion. You have
fubverted (may I dare to accufe you of it) even
our Fundamental Laws; and Reign abfolute o-
ver the Hearts of a stubborn and free-born Peo-
ple, tenacious almost to Madness of their Liberty.
The brightest and most victorious of our Ladies
make daily Complaints of revolted Subjects: If
they may be faid to be revolted, whofe Servitude
is not accepted: For your Royal Highness is too
Great, and too Just a Monarch, either to want
or to receive the Homage of Rebellious Fugi-
tives. Yet if fome few among the Multitude
continue ftedfaft to their firft Pretenfions, 'tis an
Obedience fo luke-warm and languishing, that it
merits not the Name of Paffion: Their Addreffes
are so faint, and their Vows fo hollow to their
Sovereigns, that they feem only to maintain their
Faith, out of a Senfe of Honour: They are a-
fham'd to defift, and yet grow Carelefs to ob-
tain. Like defpairing Combatants, they strive a-
gainst you as if they had beheld unveil'd the
Magical Shield of your Arifto, which dazled the
Beholders with too much brightness: They can
no longer hold up their Arms, they have read
their Destiny in your Eyes.

Splende lo Scudo a guifa di Piropo;
É Luce altra non è tanto lucente:

Cader

Cader in terra a lo fplendor fu dvopo,
Con gli occhi abbacinati, e fenza mente.

And yet, Madam, if I could find in my self the Power to leave this Argument of your incomparable Beauty, I might turn to one which would equally opprefs me with its Greatness. For your Conjugal Virtues have deferv'd to be fet as an Example, to a lefs-degenerate, lefs-tainted Age. They approach fo near to Singularity in ours, that I can fcarcely make a Panegyric to your Royal Highness, without a Satyr on many others: But your Perfon is a Paradife, and your Soul a Cherubin within to guard it. If the Excellence of the Outfide invite the Beholders, the Majefty of your Mind deters them from too bold Approaches; and turns their Admiration into Religion. Moral Perfections are rais'd higher by you in the fofter Sex: As if Men were of too coarse a Mould, for Heaven to work on, and that the Image of Divinity. could not be caft to likeness in fo harth a Metal. Your Perfon is fo admirable, that it can fcarce receive Addition, when it fhall be glorify'd: And your Soul, which fhines thorough it, finds it of a Subftance fo near her own, that he will be pleas'd to pafs an Agewithin it, and to be confin'd to fuch a Palace.

I know not how I am hurried back to my former Theme: I ought, and purpos'd to have celebrated thofe Endowments and Qualities of your Mind, which were fufficient, even without the Graces of your Perfon, to render you, as you are, the Ornament of the Court, and the Object of Wonder to Three Kingdoms: Bút all my Praises are but as a Bull-rufh caft upon a Stream; if they fink not, 'tis because they are born up-by

the