early, that you were no sooner named in the world, but it was with
praise and admiration. Even the first blossoms of your youth paid us
all that could be expected from a ripening manhood. While you
practised but the rudiments of war, you out-went all other captains;
and have since found none to surpass, but yourself alone. The opening
of your glory was like that of light: You shone to us from afar; and
disclosed your first beams on distant nations: Yet so, that the lustre
of them was spread abroad, and reflected brightly on your native
country. You were then an honour to it, when it was a reproach to
itself. When the fortunate usurper sent his arms to Flanders, many of
the adverse party were vanquished by your fame, ere they tried your
valour.[3] The report of it drew over to your ensigns whole troops and
companies of converted rebels, and made them forsake successful
wickedness, to follow an oppressed and exiled virtue. Your reputation
waged war with the enemies of your royal family, even within their
trenches; and the more obstinate, or more guilty of them, were forced
to be spies over those whom they commanded, lest the name of York
should disband that army, in whose fate it was to defeat the
Spaniards, and force Dunkirk to surrender. Yet, those victorious
forces of the rebels were not able to sustain your arms. Where you
charged in person you were a conqueror. It is true, they afterwards
recovered courage; and wrested that victory from others which they had
lost to you; and it was a greater action for them to rally, than it
was to overcome. Thus, by the presence of your royal highness, the
English on both sides remained victorious and that army, which was
broken by your valour, became a terror to those for whom they
conquered. Then it was, that at the cost of other nations you informed
and cultivated that valour, which was to defend your native country,
and to vindicate its honour from the insolence of our encroaching
neighbours. When the Hollanders, not contented to withdraw themselves