Peter Alexiwitz of Russia, when he came to Years of Manhood, though he found himself Emperor of a vast and numerous People, Master of an endless Territory, absolute Commander of the Lives and Fortunes of his Subjects, in the midst of this unbounded Power and Greatness turned his Thoughts upon Himself and People with Sorrow.  Sordid Ignorance and a Brute Manner of Life this Generous Prince beheld and contemned from the Light of his own Genius.  His Judgment suggested this to him, and his Courage prompted him to amend it.  In order to this he did not send to the Nation from whence the rest of the World has borrowed its Politeness, but himself left his Diadem to learn the true Way to Glory and Honour, and Application to useful Arts, wherein to employ the Laborious, the Simple, the Honest part of his People.  Mechanick Employments and Operations were very justly the first Objects of his Favour and Observation.  With this glorious Intention he travelled into Foreign Nations in an obscure Manner, above receiving little Honours where he sojourned, but prying into what was of more Consequence, their Arts of Peace and of War.  By this means has this great Prince laid the Foundation of a great and lasting Fame, by personal Labour, personal Knowledge, personal Valour.  It would be Injury to any of Antiquity to name them with him.  Who, but himself, ever left a Throne to learn to sit in it with more Grace?  Who ever thought himself mean in Absolute Power, ’till he had learned to use it?

If we consider this wonderful Person, it is Perplexity to know where to begin his Encomium.  Others may in a Metaphorical or Philosophick Sense be said to command themselves, but this Emperor is also literally under his own Command.  How generous and how good was his entring his own Name as a private Man in the Army he raised, that none in it might expect to out-run the Steps with which he himself advanced!  By such Measures this god-like Prince learned to Conquer, learned to use his Conquests.  How terrible has he appeared in Battel, how gentle in Victory?  Shall then the base Arts of the Frenchman be held Polite, and the honest Labours of the Russian Barbarous?  No:  Barbarity is the Ignorance of true Honour, or placing any thing instead of it.  The unjust Prince is Ignoble and Barbarous, the good Prince only Renowned and Glorious.

Tho’ Men may impose upon themselves what they please by their corrupt Imaginations, Truth will ever keep its Station; and as Glory is nothing else but the Shadow of Virtue, it will certainly disappear at the Departure of Virtue.  But how carefully ought the true Notions of it to be preserved, and how industrious should we be to encourage any Impulses towards it?  The Westminster School-boy that said the other Day he could not sleep or play for the Colours in the Hall, [2] ought to be free from receiving a Blow for ever.

But let us consider what is truly Glorious according to the Author I have to day quoted in the Front of my Paper.