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be the Chief of Your Species; and a continued Chain of Succeffes refulting from Wife Counfels, have denominated You the First of Mankind in the Age which was Blefs'd with Your Birth. Enjoy what it is not in the Power of Fate it felf to take from You, the Memory of Your Paft Actions. Paft Actions make up Prefent Glory. It is in the Power of Mortals to be Thanklefs to You for Doing them; but it is not in their Power to take from You, that You have Done them. It is in the Power of Manto make Your Services Ineffectual in Confequences to Your Country; but it is not in their Power to make them Inglorious to Your Seif. Be not therefore You concern'd; but let Us lament, who may fuffer by Your Removal. Your Glory is augmented by Comparifon of your Merit to the Reward it meets with: But the Honour of Your Country-..

It is as impoffible to do You Dishonour, as to recall Yesterday: Your Character is indelible in the Book of Fame: And tho' after a few Turbulent Years, it will be faid of Us the rest of Mankind, They were; it will be to the End of Time faid, MARLBOROUGH Is. My Lord, You are poffefs'd of all the English Glory of the whole Age in which You live; and all who fhall be tranfmitted to Potterity, muft pafs down only memorable, as they have exerted themselves in Concert with You, or against You, with Endlefs Honour as Your Friends, Infamy as Your Enemies. The Brighteft Circumftance that can be related of the QUEEN Her Self, will be, It was SHE for whom MARLBOROUGH Conquer'd. Since it is Thus, My Lord, if even the Glorious Edi

fice which Your Country decreed should be Erected to Perpetuate Your Memory, ftand Unfinish'd, let it ftand fo a Monument of the Inftability of Human Affairs. Your Glory is not chang'd, because the reft of Mankind are changeable. It is not Your Fault, that other Generals have receiv'd a Greater Reward for Escaping Your Valour, than You have for making them fly before it.

Had it pleas'd God that we had loft You by Your Mortality, the Greatest Man next to You would have had the Mitigation of his Inferior Defert, that the fame Age could not produce fuch another: But how will he do to avert the Eyes of Mankind, upon all Exigencies, from looking towards You yet living?

My Noble Lord, Be convinc'd, that You cannot be Difgrac'd; that Your Stand in Human Life is Immutable; that Your Glory is as Impaffive as the Fame of Him who Dy'd a Thousand Years ago. Whence is it that we thus Love You, that we thus Honour You? It is from the very Qualities, which lay You open to the Affaults of Your Enemies. That Sweet Complacency, that Admirable Spirit, which is fo tempered for the Arts of Common Life, makes us lofe our Wonder in Love. Is that Amiable Man, with that Eafy Gefture, that Gentle Befeeching Mein, the Man Terri ble in Battel, the Scourge of Tyrants? My Lord MARLBOROUGH, do not think there are not Men who can fee Your feveral Accomplishments, Your Excellencies that Expofe You to the Poffibility of being ill treated. We understand You too well not to fee, and to thank You, that You come Home, as if You

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had never heard the Acclamations of the Univerfe. That Your Modefty and Refignation have made Your Tranfcendent, Your Heroick, Your God-like Virtue capable of being blended in Society with other Men. And, My Lord, do You think we can let that Virtue be Dangerous to You, which only makes Your other Qualities not Dangerous to us? Accept, O Familiar, O Amiable, O Glorious Man, the Thanks of every Generous, every Honeft Man in Great Britain. Go on in Your Eafie Mein of Life, be contented we See You, we Admire You, we Love You the more. While You are what You cannot cease to be, that Mild Virtue is Your Armour; the Shameless Ruffian that should Attempt to Sully it, would find his Force against it as Detestable, as the Strength of a Ravither in the Violation of Chaftity, the Teftimonies of a Perjur'd Man Confronting Truth, or Clamour drowning the Voice of Innocence.

1 am,

My LORD,

Your Grateful Fellow-Subject,

and Faithful Friend,

SCOTO-BRITANNUS.

A

LETTER

то

Sir Miles Wharton,

CONCERNING

OCCASIONAL PEERS.

Written in the YEAR 1713.

Printed in the YEAR MDCCXV.

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