It was then reserved for my lot to pay this funereal tribute to the
high and potent princess, Henrietta of England, Duchess of Orleans.
She whom I had seen so attentive while I was discharging a like office
for the queen, her mother, was so soon after to be the subject of a
similar discourse, and my sad voice was predestined to this melancholy
service. O vanity! O nothingness! O mortals! ignorant of their
destiny! Ten months ago would she have believed it? And you, my
hearers, would you have thought, while she was shedding so many tears
in this place, that she was so soon to assemble you here to deplore
her own loss? O princess! the worthy object of the admiration of two
great kingdoms, was it not enough that England should deplore your
absence, without being yet further compelled to deplore your death?
France, who with so much joy beheld you again, surrounded with a new
brilliancy, had she not in reserve other pomps and other triumphs for
you, returned from that famous voyage whence you had brought hither so
much glory, and hopes so fair? "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity."
Nothing is left for me to say but that: that is the only sentiment
which, in presence of so strange a casualty, grief so well-grounded
and so poignant permits me to indulge. Nor have I explored the Holy
Scriptures in order to find therein some text which I might apply to
this princess; I have taken, without premeditation and without choice,
the first expression presented to me by the Preacher with whom vanity,
although it has been so often named, is yet, to my mind, not named
often enough to suit the purpose that I have in view. I wish, in a
single misfortune, to lament all the calamities of the human race, and
in a single death to exhibit the death and the nothingness of all
human greatness. This text, which suits all the circumstances and all
the occurrences of our life, becomes, by a special adaptedness,
appropriate to my mournful theme; since never were the vanities of the
earth either so clearly disclosed or so openly confounded. No, after
what we have just seen, health is but a name, life is but a dream,
glory is but a shadow, charms and pleasures are but a dangerous
diversion. Every thing is vain within us, except the sincere
acknowledgment made before God of our vanity, and the fixed judgment
of the mind, leading us to despise all that we are.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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