The Augustan Reprint Society
Prefaces to Four Seventeenth-Century Romances
Roger Boyle, Lord Broghill, Preface to _Parthenissa_ (1655)
Sir George Mackenzie, “Apologie for Romances,”
prefixed to _Aretina, the Serious Romance_ (1660)
Nathaniel Ingelo, Preface to _Bentivolio and Urania_ (1660)
Robert Boyle, Preface to _Theodora and Didymus_ (1687)
With an Introduction by
Charles Davies
Publication Number 42
Los Angeles
William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
University of California
1953
GENERAL EDITORS
H. RICHARD ARCHER, _Clark Memorial Library_
RICHARD G. BOYS, _University of Michigan_
RALPH COHEN, _University of California, Los Angeles_
VINTON A. DEARING, _University of California, Los Angeles_
ASSISTANT EDITOR
W. EARL BRITTON, _University of Michigan_
ADVISORY EDITORS
EMMETT L. AVERY, _State College of Washington_
BENJAMIN BOYCE, _Duke University_
LOUIS BREDVOLD, _University of Michigan_
JOHN BUTT, _King’s College, University of Durham_
JAMES L. CLIFFORD, _Columbia University_
ARTHUR FRIEDMAN, _University of Chicago_
EDWARD NILES HOOKER, _University of California, Los Angeles_
LOUIS A. LANDA, _Princeton University_
SAMUEL H. MONK, _University of Minnesota_
ERNEST MOSSNER, _University of Texas_
JAMES SUTHERLAND, _University College, London_
H. T. SWEDENBERG, JR., _University of California, Los Angeles_
CORRESPONDING SECRETARY
EDNA C. DAVIS, _Clark Memorial Library_
INTRODUCTION
The four _Prefaces_ here reprinted occupy a place in the long argument
about Romance somewhat apart from the developments which preceded the
emergence of the novel proper in eighteenth-century England. The secret
antinomy in their authors with regard to the art they are practising is as
clearly revealed by the compulsion to give Romance a new and, above all, a
serious purpose as by the embarrassing discovery of so much that was
otiose in the already existing forms. At heart they shared with Arnauld
the opinion he expressed of Scudéry’s _Clelie_ in his famous letter to
Perrault. “Que ce soit, si vous voulez, le plus beau de tous les Romans;
mais enfin c’est un Roman. C’est tout dire.”
A further insight into their ideas and purposes is gained if one remembers
the part they played (Mackenzie and Robert Boyle especially) in the
experimental crisis through which seventeenth-century rhetoric was
passing. All four works were written in self-imposed styles and were
attempts to discover the nature of a common measure for the narrative
prose their age demanded. Romance _à la Scudéry_ was never indigenous in
English soil. Even Roger Boyle had never succumbed wholeheartedly to its
sophistications which explains why his book was so lamely sponsored by
diffidence, dubiety and want of will. His language could never compass the
idiom in its entirety nor could “the matchless Orinda” (who was Boyle’s
friend) command as zealous or intelligent a following as that which
crowded the Hôtel de Rambouillet. “_Parthenissa_ is now my company,”
writes Dorothy Osborne, “... I am not very much taken with it though he
makes his people say fine handsome things to one another, yet they are
not easy and Naïve like the french.” A long tradition, culminating in the
_Poetics_ of Scaliger, had established the kind of “truth” both poet and
romancer were in search of and contrived a set of _schema_ amenable to
variations by even a mediocre talent. Broghill’s plan pays due attention
to suspense and elaboration, without which, as Ménage said, “the end would
arrive too soon.” He, like others, resorted to history for the balance of
the parts and the establishment of _vraisemblance_ in terms of what would
address itself to the reader as representative and probable. These were
now the commonplaces of the romancer’s art. In his _Preface to Birinthea_
(1664) John Bulteel sets his face against those who “can relish no Romance
that is not forced with Extravagant Impossibilities.” The tale, however
told, should be limited to the scope of “that predominant faculty of the
Soul, the Judgement.” And in 1665, John Crowne, amusingly enough in the
_Preface to Pandion and Amphigenia_ had maintained, with an eye to
character, that “my endeavours have been rather to delineate humors and
affections, than to affect humorous delineations.” Whole volumes filled
with “Phlegmatic conceipts” and “such empty inflations, inherit the Office
of a foot-ball.” But alas! while Romance endeavoured to bring the heroic
into stricter, more reasonable consonance with its ordinary, realistic
counterpart of everyday, the extension of range brought about by all the
means of emotional contagion produced none but amorphous results. It was
Madame de la Fayette who finally achieved the expression of the personal
will in a universe of privately conflicting motives, but only by the
rigorous exclusion of those elements, literary and historical, which had
confused Roger Boyle.
The stylistic aspect of the Romancer’s problem is well illustrated by the
_Apologie_ prefaced to his _Aretina_ (1660) by Sir George Mackenzie. This
is the critical exercise of a young man in search of a style. Sidney,
Scudéry, Barkley and Broghill are his saints and patrons if only because
they had shown a distaste for “things impracticable ... above the reach of
man’s power” such as filled the pages of _Amadis de Gaulle_. But _serious_
Romance (and _Aretina_ is that) can “strain the christal streams of vertue
from the puddle of interest”; it allures “lazy Ladies and luxurious
Gallants ... to spend in their Chambers some hours, which else, the one
would consecrate to the bed and the other to the Bordell.” The one real
contribution he makes, however, is in his insistence on avoiding “the
style which because of its soaring pitch was inimitable.” In his own
writing there is much that savours of copy-book conceits but a style
“flourished with similies,” such as “Barrasters” use, is by no means to be
condemned. Mackenzie seems to be in two minds, pulled this way and that in
response to two guiding notions and allegiances. In his _Idea Eloquentiae
Forensis Hodierna_ (1681) he maintains that “Eloquence is not only
allowable, but necessary ... where Passions are to be excited.” To “the
profluvium Asiaticum” of the Codex and the (so-called) novels of the
lawyers, he opposes the narrowness of “the short or Laconick Way” which
was the only excellence of judges. In his condemnation of bombastic
periphrasis and the “carminated” hyperbole of Browne and Charlton, he
would have included some, at least, of the pretty effects so carefully
studied by “a ridiculous caball of Ladies at Paris.” Nevertheless the one
style he recommends is that “where the cadence is sweet, and the epithets
well adapted ... and this is that style which is used at Court, and is
paterned to us by eloquent Scuderie.” He never attained to that kind of
writing himself in _Aretina_ but the new style, for all that, was
presently to be succinctly catalogued in all its essentials by the members
of the Royal Society and was to provide the staple of the English novel
when it ventured outside “the circumference of wit” and attained
popularity in Defoe and Fielding.
Ingelo takes us at once into the narrower realm of traditional
commonplace. “The whole Rhapsody of Homer’s Iliads and Odysseis,” he
quotes, “beginning and End, is but a woman.” Even the chastest delights
are dangerous to the “Dignity of Reasonable Souls.” Like Ascham, he
castigates all those whose “chief design is to put fleshly Lust into long
Stories” and laments “the Excellent Wits thrown away in writing great
stories of Nothing.” There is nothing new in this or in his effort “to lay
the design of Romance deeper than the Shallows of Fancy,” though to do it,
he inured himself and his readers “to ingenious schemes of
Discourse--Apologues, Parables and such-like modes of signification,” the
object being to keep in mind the schematic range of moral values that
recommended itself to “little capacities.” There is in him more than a
hint of Spenser’s allegory and a curious but uninspired anticipation of
_The Pilgrim’s Progress_. In the _Preface_ to the second part (Books 5 and
6 in the second edition, 1669) he admits he has been prolix and “shorter
in the Historical Narrations.” The sisters Theonoe and Irene are concerned
to give a better account of their Time to Almighty God than mere narrative
can comprehend and Ingelo’s task is to turn men’s minds from the gross
errors of the Atheists, the Epicureans, the Scepticks and all those who
magnify “the Degeneracy of Humane Nature.” _C’est tout dire._ The
gravamen of his charge against the degenerate beasts of _Theriagene_ and
“the Reproach of Many Falshoods” in his concluding book, of the
_Elenchus_, is essentially a recognition that his method is inadequate to
the demands he has made on it. The arguments of Hobbes could only be
countered by a morality that adopted the subtle calculus of a Descartes
and revealed the passions for what they are in the wide orbit and common
perspectives of human nature.
Robert Boyle, author of Boyle’s Law, Fellow of the Royal Society, and like
Roger Boyle, a son of the great Earl of Cork, makes an odd appearance in
this company. His _Preface to Theodora and Didymus_ (1687) has
psychological rather than historical significance. He, too, considered
gravely the claims of history against the rival attractions of fiction and
imagination but his remarks have the merit of focussing a problem which
was of immediate importance to him and called for nicety and skill in
finding a solution. The story he was contriving into a “voluminous
romance” was one of tragic import. There is nothing that savours of Cyrus
or Oroondates. “True examples,” he maintains, “do arm and fortify the Mind
far more efficaciously than Imaginary or Fictitious ones can do.” Yet how
could this effect be realized when the scanty materials provided were
insufficient to give body to his book? Besides, the nature of the theme
forbade those “Imbellishments which, in other themes, are wont to supply
the deficiencies of the matter.” Boyle is not won over by the siren voices
which might have urged him to give imagination full rein. His integrity
makes such a course impossible, but he fully realizes the nature of his
quandary. Theodora’s sad choice between death or ravishment and her
request to Didymus that he should kill her with his sword rather than let
her be dishonoured, opened a new vein for the sentimental school and set
a problem in speculative ethics of which Richardson, with his nicely
adjusted views of heavenly rather than poetic justice, would exploit with
resounding success in _Clarissa Harlowe_. There is a hint, even in Boyle,
that these vicarious pleasures are concocted to a recipe that is intended
to please the guests at the feast rather than the cooks who prepared it.
Defoe’s principle that all should be left to “the gust and palate of the
reader” receives perhaps its first expression here and helped create a
sense of the relativity of all values without which, in every age, the
novelist would find it difficult to pursue his avocations or stimulate his
readers’ interest.
Charles Davies
University College of N. Wales, Bangor
NOTE
_Parthenissa_ is reproduced, with permission, from the copy in the Henry
E. Huntington Library, the other works from the copies in the British
Museum.
PARTHENISSA,
A
ROMANCE.
In Four Parts.
Dedicated to the Lady
_NORTHUMBERLAND_,
And the Lady
_SUNDERLAND_.
The First Part.
_LONDON_,
Printed for _Humphrey Moseley_ and are to be sold at his
Shop at the sign of the Prince’s Arms in St
_Paul’s_ Church-yard. 1655.
THE PREFACE.
_Though a Preface before a booke of this Nature is seldome writt, and
seldomer Read, yet I could not herein Confine my selfe unto the Examples
of others, but have rather elected to decline a Generall Practice, to
follow my owne Inclination, than observe one, to immitate the inclination
of others._
_Amongst my many Faults, I know none which had a lesse Disputed Assendent
over me, then a Detestation to Readeing and Studdy, in which vast
unhappinesse I continued ’till I went to see the VVorld, and makeing some
Residence in France, I assotiated my selfe with Persons of my owne Age,
where I soone found, that he who was Ignorant of the Romances of these
Times, was as fitt an Object for VVonder, as a Phylosopher would be, who
had never heard of Aristotle, or a Methematician of Euclyd. This inforc’t
me to reade, Necessity performing what should have sprunge from a
handsomer Principle. In the Perusall of those Bookes, I mett with the
names, & some of the Actions, of those Hero’s, whome I had heard off, in
the Scoole; This gave me a passionate desire to seperate the Truth from
the Fixion, in the effecting whereof, I became as much a Freind to
readeing, as I had bin an Enemy to it. This experiment I esteem’d an
ingratitude to Conceale; & I have cause to beleiue since Romances Acted a
Cure upom me, thy cannot fayle of doeing the Like upon any other; & by the
knowledge I haue of my selfe & according to a Proportionate Degree of
operation, much more upon Any other, then they have done upon me._
_All the Readers of Parthenissa may wonder at my makeing of Spartacus and
Perolla contemporaries, & that Artabbanes & Spartacus should be the same
Person &c. But I hope they will noe Longer doe so, when I Minde them,
that I write a Romance, not a History, and that therfore though all I
Relate be not the Truth, yet if a Part be, I performe more then what the
Title of my Booke does confyne me to. The Latter of these they will finde
I doe, in the warre of Spartacus; In the warre betweene Rome and Carthage
called the second Punick warre; In the warre betweene the Romans, and the
Parthians, and in the warre termed the Metrydatick; In the Relations
whereof I have punctualy followed those Authors, who have most
celebratedly bestowed the History of those Times to Posterrity, and where
I have found any contradictions (as in most Historyes I have found some) I
have gon according to the seeming’st Truth. Only in the second Punick
warre, I have followed exactly Polibius, & the Excellent Sir VValter Rawly
in who’s Generall History of the VVorld, I finde more Harmony then ever I
did in any perticuler History, of any Part of it. But to Evidence
Chronologie is not essentiall in Romances, Virgill (who writes a Romance
in Numbers, & who is as Famous now, as he was in Augustus Times) makes
Æneas and Dido Lovers, when according to most Chronologers the Troian
Preceaded her, at lest two Centuries and a Halfe of Yeares; The Former
Living in the Yeare of the VVorld 2771; and the Latter in the Yeare of the
VVorld 3058, or as Alsted an Excellent Modern Chronologer will haue it, in
the Yeare 3077. I Instance this for my Iustification, or at least to
evidence I Err by a Famous and Authentique Example. Neither doe I thinke
but such a Fault may be Pardonable, when by it I Present the Reader with
two such signall, and True Historyes, as that of Hanniball, and that of
Spartacus, which doe both contayne things worthy the Perusall, especially
the Latter, which Past ages cannot Parralell, neither doe I beleive the
Future will. The Reuolt of Matho & Spendius from the Carthaginians in
Antient Times, and of Massaniello from the King of Spayne in the Present,
though they are Admirable Actions, yet are rather Foyles, then Paralels to
Spartacus’es, who from a private Slaue, after the winning of many a
Battell brought the Empire of Rome to the Stake in One, in which had he
had successe, Pompey might have Lost the Name of The Great, or else have
had a better Title to it, then he Deriu’d from his Asian or Priattike
Victories._
_I shall not here tell you in what Places I have intrench’t upon, or
borrowed of Truth, since that might silence a Curiossity, the raising
wherof is one of my cheefest ends in writeing this Booke. Neither shall I
here endeavour to Apologize for Romances, for though I thinke I could say
somthing for them, yet I am certaine I can say more against them, & so
much, that had I bin of the same Minde when this Romance was first
Designed, as I am now of, at the finishing of the Fourth Tome, I had never
begun the First; And if I should continue the two remaineing Last Tomes,
it shalbe as a Penance for having writt the foure First. Yet I may say
that this way of writing Romances is lesse ill, than any I have yet seene
Originaly in our Language; for all that have bin presented to the VVorld
First in English have bin Purely Fabulous; This contayning much of Truth
’tis like Ore in which the Refyner will have Drosse, and Mettle, and
indeede almost the best Historians, differ herein, not in the Quallity,
but the Quantity; at least as to the causes & retayles of VVars, sometimes
even in the very events; Though many Historyans, write the same History,
yet they write not the same things; now it being impossible that there
should be but one Truth, ’tis as impossible that those Disagreeing writers
should all write that Truth; which cleerely evinces, that Historyes are
for the most Part but mixt Romances, and yet the Pure Romance Part, may be
as Instructiue as, if not more than, the Historicall; since ’tis not the
Truth of a wise Councell, or Ingenious Designe which inuites Men to an
immitation thereof, but the Rationallity and Probability of it, whither it
be reall or Imaginary; had the Histories of Cæsar or Hanniball bin as
meere a fable as they are the Contrary we might yet have Deriu’d from
thence as much instruction as wee now can, or doe. Besides, Romances tell
us what may be, whereas true Historyes tell vs what is, or has bin, now
what may be, is more vncircumscrib’d than what is, or has bin, and
consequently affoards a Larger Feild for instruction, and inuention._
_But I feare I doe herein speake against what I have spoken, I shall
therefore only add. That though a desperate Cure (for so I account of
reading Romances, as an inuitation to Studdy) be not alwaies to be made
use of, yet it is not alwaies to be declyn’d; That this Romance is the
Idle Fruit of some Idle Time; That I have euidenc’t my weaknesse in Print
but to let those Freinds see the Power they have ouer me, which could
inuite me to it; And in the Last place I must desire the Reader to mend
the faults in the Printing, which I cannot but conclude are too many since
they almost equall those in the VVriting._
_ARETINA_;
Or, The Serious
ROMANCE.
_Written originally in English._
Part First.
_EDINBURGH_,
Printed for _Robert Brown_, at the
sign of the _Sun_, on the Northside
of the Street, 1660.
To all the LADIES of this NATION.
Fair Ladies,
_I do, like =Moses= trembling mother, leave this my first born upon the
banks of envies current, exposed to the muddy and impetuous streams of
merciless censure; wishing, that the fair hands of the meanest of your
number would vouchsafe to dandle it in the lapp of your protection; It is
but an abortive birth, posted to the world before its time, by an
unavoidable emergent, and so I fear shall never prove strong, nor be able
to go much abroad: Yet if it be admitted to suck the breasts of your
favour, it may possibly prove strong enough (shielded by your affection)
to graple with malice, and all other opposition. Whilest my winged
curiositie, pilgrimaged through all the corners of my memory; desirous to
know wherewith it was fittest to adorn the porch of this mean structure;
duty at last pleaded, that it was lese-majesty against your supremacy,
even to doubt whether it was fit to give you the precedency. For, since
the best eyed fancy, cannot observe any traite in your peerless faces,
wherein nature hath not prodigalled her charmes; so perfection were
imprudent, and so no perfection, if it palaced not it self in such
accomplisht creatures. And if there be any Orthodox maxime in Phisognomy,
we may conclude, that such excellent faces are assorted with excellent
souls: Providence being like these prudent Artists, who bestow the
choisest cases only upon the richest pieces. And seing one look darted
from your irresistible eyes, is able to conquer, in a moment, these over
whom neither reason, nor courage, could never raise their trophies; we may
conclude that there is something in you, which nothing in man (who
seigneurises over all other creatures, and who can pretend to nothing
stronger then courage and reason) can ever equal. It is to pleasure you
that wit is studied, and were it not that ye might be pleased, certainly
providence had placed wit beyond the reach of our studies: it is to sooth
your humor that men school themselves in patience; and by your miraculous
voice, the storms of their passions are calmed; from your beauty, cowards
borrow courage, and niggards liberality; so that all these scattered
colonies of vertues, which are squandred amongst men, are all originated
from your example. But as it was duty, so it is prudence in me to beg your
patronage; for how can the body of this Book be abissed, and sink in the
gulf of scorn, if its head be handed up by such admired beauties; neither
think I, that malice can be so malicious, as to along a thurst at the
author, who ensconces himself behinde such sacred persons; lest the blow
destinated for him should wound them who targets him. I have chosen so
many patronesses, to evidence that there is none of your never enough
admired sex, but may lay claime to the patronage of all that drops from my
pen; as also, fearing that among such a number, I should scarce finde one
who would be so excessively hospitall, as to lodge in her Cabinet or
Chamber such an unacknowledged Orphelin. The disappointment of my fears in
this, is rather the wish, then the expectation of,_
Fair Ladies,
Your most humble Servant.
An Apologie for ROMANCES.
_It hath been rather the fate, then merit of Romances in all ages, to be
asperst with these vices, whereof they were not only innocent, but to
whose ante-doting vertues they might justly pretend: for whereas they are
judged to be both the fire, and faggots, wherby Lov’d flames are both
kindled and alimented; I believe verily, that there is nothing can so
easily extinguish them, for as these who have at Court, seen numbers of
peerless and wel deckt beauties, can hardly become enamoured of an
ordinary Country-maid; So these who have seen a =Philoclea=, or
=Cleopatra=, depenciled by the curious wits of =Sidney=, and =Scuderie=,
will hardly be invassalled by the (to them scarce approaching) treats of
these, whom this age garlands for admired beauties. Others forsooth accuse
them, for robbing us of our precious time; but this reproach is ill
founded; for if the Romance be abject, none will trifle away their time
in reading it, except these who would mispend it however, and if they be
excellent, then time is rather spent then mispent in leafing them over.
There is also a third race of detracters, who condemn them as lies; but
since their Authors propose them, not with an intention to deceive, they
cannot properly be reputed such: And albeit they seem but fables, yet who
would unkernel them, would finde budled up in them reall truthes; and as
naturalists observe, these kernels are best where the shells are hardest;
and these mettals are noblest, which are mudded over with most earth. But
so leave such Phanaticks in the bedlame of their own fancies, who should
blush to trace in these paths, which the famous =Sidney=, =Scuderie=,
=Barkley=, and =Broghill= hath beaten for them, besides thousands of
Ancients, and Moderns Ecclesiasticks, and Laicks, Spaniards, French, and
Italians, to remunerat whose endeavours, fame hath Wreathed Garlands (to
betemple their ingenious and ingenuous heads) which shall never fade
whilest Learning flourishes. I shall speak nothing of that noble Romance,
written by a Bishop, which the entreaty of all the Eastern Churches could
never prevail with him to disown; and I am confident, that where Romances
are written by excellent wits, and perused by intelligent Readers, that
the judgement may pick more sound information from them, then from
History, for the one teacheth us onely what was done, and the other what
should be done; and whereas Romances presents to us, vertue in its
holy-day robes, History presents her only to us in these ordinary, and
spotted sutes which she weares whilst she is busied in her servile, and
lucrative imployments: and as many would be incited to vertue and
generosity, by reading in Romances, how much it hath been honoured; So
contrary wise, many are deterred by historical experience from being
vertuous, knowing that it hath been oftner punished then acknowledged.
Romances are these vessels which strain the christal streams of vertue
from the puddle of interest; whereas history suffers the memory to quaff
them of in their mixt impuritie; by these likewise lazy Ladies and
luxurious Gallants, are allured to spend in their Chambers some hours,
which else, the one would consecrat to the Bed, and the other to the
Bordell: and albeit essayes be the choicest Pearls in the Jewel house of
moral Philosophy, yet I ever thought that they were set off to the best
advantage, and appeared with the greatest lustre, when they were laced
upon a Romance; that so the curiosity might be satisfied, as well as the
judgement informed, especially in this age Wherein the appetit of mens
judgements is become so queasie, that it can rellish nothing that is not
either vinegared with Satyres, or suggared with Eloquence._
_I know that these who have devanced us in this imployment, will as our
oldest brothers in time, have a double portion of fame bestowed upon them,
and no wonder, seing they had store both of expression and invention to
make choice of, and if any of us use their expressions, albeit we were
only debtor to our own invention for them, yet we should be thought to
plagiarize: wherefore he who writes now, should read what hath been
written formerly; not to the intent that he may borrow, but least he
should borrow any thing that is theirs. I perceive there have been two
errours committed by the first writers of Romances: the first was, that
they stuffed their Books with things impracticable, which because they
were above the reach of mans power, they should never have fallen within
the circle of his observation: and such was =Amadis de Gaule=, =Palmeron
de Oliva= =&c.= The other errour was in the style, which because of its
soaring pitch was inimitable: and as the first hath been the fault of the
first writers, So the last hath been the fault of the last writers,
wherefore the famous =Scuderie= hath written so, as that his invention may
suit well with our practice, and his style with our discourse, and
especially in his =Clelia=, wherein he professes that he hath adapted all
to the present converse of the French Nation and that is really the mould
wherein all tru Romances should be casten. There are some who embroider
their discourse with Latin and Greek termes, thinking, like these who are
charmers, that the charme loses its energie, if the words be not used in
Latine. But this is as ridiculous, as if one who desires to make his face
seem pleasant, should enamble it with red, blew, green, and other colours;
which though they are in themselves pleasant, yet are rediculous when
placed there. And this is an university style, which favours too much its
pedant, and is at best but bastard oratory, seing the scope of all Orators
is to perswade, and there can be no perswasion where the term is not
understood; examples of this are =Brown=, =Charletoun=, =&c.= The second
style, is that of moral Philosophers, where the periods are short, and the
sense strong, and our experience teacheth us, that the shorter any thing
be, it is the stronger: this style suits best with Preachers, whose it is
to debit the grand misteries of Faith and Religion; for, seing sentences
there should be weighty, if they were either many, or long, they would
burden too much the hearers. The third style, is that of =Barrasters=,
which is flourished with similees, and where are used long winded periods;
and of all others, this is the most preferable, for seing similitude is
but a harmony, this style shews that excellent harmony; and rapport,
which God intended in the first Creation; and which the Philosophers of
all ages have ever since admired. This Lawyers have learned from the
paucitie of all humane Lawes, which makes them oft recurr to that topick,
which teaches them to argument from the paritie of reason. And in this
they resemble Mechanicks, who, by applying a cord, whose length they know,
to any body whose length they ignore, do thereby learn its measures also.
And by this way =Nathan= in the old Testament, and our Saviour in the new,
repremands the errors of =David= and the self conceated Jewes. The fourth
style is where the cadence is sweet, and the epithets well adapted,
without any other varnish whatsoever: and this is that style which is used
at Court, and is paterned to us by eloquent =Scuderie=. I hear there is
now a ridiculous caball of Ladies at =Paris=, who terme themselves the
precious, and who paraphrase every thing they speak of, terming a mirrour,
the conselour of beauty, and a chair, the commoditie of conversation, &c.
And thus they have progressed from painting of faces to paint
expressions._
_As for my self, since I expect no applause, I need fear no censure; and
if I satisfie not others, I shall at least satisfie my self, for it was to
form to my self a style that I undertook this Piece, whose defects I hope
the sober readers will pardon, since their clemency will not be oft
tempted with crimes of this nature: only this I begg, that these who will
not do me the favour to read the last part, will not do me the wrong to
read the first part; for as the Lord =Baken= very well observes, our
thoughts are like our years, whereof the first are alwayes the worst; and
it is no wonder, for boyling youth customarly throws the scum upmost. I
have concealed my name till I see how my undertaking is relished; for
which reason likewise, I have sent this Piece to the world unaccompanied,
as a swatch of what I intend, reserving the web, till I see how the Stuff
pleases. The subject hath made this first part serious, and my inclination
shall make the second pleasant._
BENTIVOLIO
AND
URANIA,
IN
FOUR BOOKES.
By _N. I._ D. D.
_LONDON_:
Printed by _J. G._ for RICHARD MARRIOT, and are to be
sold at his shop in Saint _Dunstans_ Church-yard _Fleetstreet_.
_MDCLX._
A PREFACE TO THE READER, CONCERNING The DESIGN of this BOOK.
_It is justly esteemed by those which know themselves, as the onely work
that is worthy of wise men, so to employ their better faculties and
improve their time, that at last they may obtain an End, in which they may
rejoyce eternally: After a sincere intention of this End, to prosecute it
with a constant use of fit means, is the Character of a Prudent and Good
man. Those which govern not their life by this Principle, do either suffer
themselves to be benum’d with Idleness, or abuse the activity of their
Souls in some vain employment._
_The =first= of these two out of their great love to do nothing, can make
no better wish for themselves, then that they might sleep out the other
half of their time; and it is rationall to do so, if his Rule were good
for any thing, who said, =He values his life at a just rate, who would be
content to forgoe it for a Dream=._
_The =other= make their bargain but a little better; for whilest they
entertain themselves with things which correspond not with the Dignity of
Reasonable Souls, instead of perfecting those rare Capacities with which
their Natures are invested, by a generous endeavour to obtain that
Happiness which God doth not envy us, they lessen themselves, clip the
wings of their Souls, and bring them down from those degrees of Excellency
which they actually enjoy, and make them degenerate into a brutish
incapacity, though many times they take no notice of the weakness of their
judgements: till they meet it in the miserable Consequences of their
Actions._
_It is not my purpose here to reckon up all the impertinencies of Mankind,
which are the several instances of the forementioned folly, I would onely
give a charitable notice of one, =viz. the VVriting and Reading of
Romances=. This I put into the number, because for the most part it is
verified in them what =Justin Martyr= said of =Homers= Poetry, Ἔστι γαρ ἡ
πᾶσα ῥαψῳδία Ἰλιάδος τε καὶ Ὀδυσσείας, ἀρχὴ καὶ τέλος, γυνὴ, =i.e. The
whole Rhapsody of Homers Iliads and Odysseis, beginning and end, is but a
VVoman=. Yet they dote so much upon that subject, that they think with
those amorous =Trojans=, that =Helen= was not onely worthy of all the
labours of =Homers Quill=, but also of the sharp contentions of the
=Greek= and =Trojan= swords._
Ου’ νέμεσις Τρωες και ευκνημιδαι Αχαιοι
Τοιη δ’ αμφι γυναικι πολυν χρονον αλγεα πασχειν: _i.e._
A ten years VVar is no unworthy sight,
VVhen _Greece_ and _Troy_ for such a VVoman fight.
_She was a brave Woman indeed, and it was but fit that so many Gallant men
should destroy one another in the =Revenge= and =Defence= of her
Adultery. But =Maximus Tyrius= in his 15th. Dissertation doth justly
reprove the folly of their opinion, and condemn the unreasonablenesse of
that lavish praise._
_I am not ignorant that =Homer= wrote upon another design, then to tell so
many tales of =Helen= and =Paris=, and that =Horace= hath said in his
Commendation,_
_Qui quid sit pulchrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non,
Plenius ac melius =Chrysippo= & =Crantore= dicit: i.e._
He what is fair, what foul, what good, what not,
Better then _Crantor_ and _Chrysippus_ wrot.
_It may be so; for though =Chrysippus= was so great a man, that he was
esteemed the onely support of the Stoick School, according to the
Proverbiall speech recorded by =Diogenes Laertius=, Εἰ μὴ γὰρ ἦν
Χρύσιππος, οὐκ ἂν ἦν Στοά. Yet quite contrary to the vertuous design of
prudent =Socrates=, he spoil’d the Docrine of good manners, and unwisely
changed the substiantiall precepts of a morall life for the uselesse
subtilties of nice disputation. Or what if =Crantor=, whom he yokes with
him in the disparagement, made no great proficiency either by =Plato=, to
whose School he belonged, or =Homer= himself, who was his delight? For all
this fair verdict, which =Horace= hath passed in favour of his Brother
Poet, the Morall Vertues, which so highly concern the felicity of the
World, ought to be discours’d in another manner then he useth; for he, as
it may be said also of other =Romancers=, hath made the fabulous rind so
thick, that few can see through it into the usefull sense. I do not deny
what =Plutarch= saies, that his Verses were not written onely for
pleasure, ὰλλὰ γαρ βαθύτερός εστι τους ενκεκρυμμενους τοις επεσι, =i.e.=
but that a deeper meaning is hid under his Poems; but he hath sunk it so
deep, that very few can come at it. And some of those who applaud him for
a =Philosopher=, confesse that such onely can make a gain of him, that
have already attain’d a mature judgement by long study; that is, such may
possibly learn of him, who are able to teach him: But he is so unfit for
others, that =Plato= desired they might not see him, ἱνα μη μυθους
οιησοιντο γραφειν τον Ἡρωα, =i.e.= for fear they should think that the
=Hero= wrote fables, which he had good reason to expect upon the
perusall._
_Besides this, as many others do, he hath so form’d the representations of
Vertue and Vice, that it is hard to say, which is commended and which
reproved; whil’st the Gods are frequently brought in practising
Immoralities, he doth at least equall Vice to Vertue, and nourish that
which he should eradicate. For, why should men endeavour to be better then
their Gods? So he in the Comedy made the Adultery of =Jupiter= an apology
for his lust._
----Et quia consimilem luserat
Jam olim ille ludum--------
Ego homuncio hoc non facerem: _Terent. Eunuch._
_By these and such like instances the Greek Fathers did convince the
Heathens of the imperfection of their best Authors. So one may perceive in
some =Romances= of a later date, that the pictures of =Heroes=, which they
have drawn far exact patterns of the most rais’d vertue are often blotted
with notorious defects, as Impatience, Revenge, and the like._
_But this sort of Books is most to be blamed, because for the greater
part, as I said before, their =chief Design= is to put fleshly Lust into
long stories, and sometimes not without very unhandsome mixtures, tending
onely to the service of brutish Concupiscence, the nourishment of
dishonorable affections, and by exciting in the Readers muddy fancies, to
indispose them for their attendance upon God by their better part. For
some such reason, I suppose, the great =Sidney= before his death charg’d
his friend Sir =Fulk Grevill=, who had the onely Copy of his =Arcadia=,
that he should never permit it to be made publick._
_The =other= pieces, which fill up the =intervalls= of the story, and
grace it with pleasing varieties, are commonly frivolous devices of wit in
some contemptible matter, and serve but to some such slight purpose, as
doth the writing of =Verses= in the form of an =Egge= or =Hatchet=, where
the measures of words and sense are constrain’d to suite with the odde
proportions of such figures. These are fine rarities of no use, the
intertexture of the =by-accidents= being as triviall as the =principall
Design=._
_’Tis true, some of these Authors written in divers Languages, are
applauded for the =Elegancy= of each particular =Tongue=, and are here and
there interspers’d with good =Sentences=: but they are so deeply
=infected= with =noisome words=, =immodest Tales= and =Discourses=, which
do fatally corrupt the manners of Youth, that I cannot but assent to the
Opinion of many wise men, who judge them, for all that, well worthy of the
fire. Neither do I think it improper to use the words, which the old
=Sages= of =Troy= silently mutter’d, when they perceived the dangers which
attended the beauty of =Helen=, which the young men extoll’d as equall to
that of the heavenly Goddesses._
Αλλὰ γαρ ὧς τοίηπερ ἐοῦς᾽ ἐν νηυσὶ νεέσθω
μηδ᾽ ἡμῖν τεκέεσσί τ᾽ ὀπίσσω πῆμα λίποιτο, _i.e._
But though She’s such, let her return, and make
An end of what we suffer for her sake.
_I could easily name them, but that Labour is needless to such as know
books: and to those which do not, I ought not, by making a Catalogue, to
give notice of such as I could wish burnt. If they were, they would not be
greatly miss’d, as to that propriety of speech unto which they lay claim,
and for which they are magnified by their Readers; because the best
Languages used in the world, may as well be learn’d from Authors that are
as Elegant as Chaste._
_For these reasons I think the Noble =Mountaigne= gave a great proof of
his early wisdome, in that, as he saies, =Quant aux Amadis, et telles
sortes d’escrits, ils n’ont pas eu le credit d’arrester seulement mon
enfance=, i.e. =Amadis and such like trash of VVriting; had not so much
credit with him, as to allure his youth to delight in them=. And upon the
same considerations one may well judge some Excellent Wits thrown away in
=writing= great stories of Nothing; and that others lose their unvaluable
Time whilst they =reade= them. And the rather, because, besides the direct
losse, they leave the Memory so full of fantasticall images of things
which are not, that they cannot easily dismisse them: the Fancy being
held in the amusement of those foolish Dreames, as we are in Sleep with
the various representations of severall things, which never were nor will
be in such Ridiculous Conjunctions. And when the Reader considers how
prettily he hath abused himself, yet cannot he presently dispossesse his
fancy of those vain Imaginations which he hath entertain’d, but is still
haunted with them, and much indispos’d in Mind for more worthy
Considerations; as troublesome Dreams often leave the Body not so well
affected._
_There is no doubt but that most Readers of such things, ingenuously
examining what beneficiall use they could make of the gains reaped from
their Studies, would find themselves hard put to it to name a better then
the =Great VVit= was forc’d to, who said, =when he thought to retire from
his Extravagancies, and to repose his wearied Spirit, and it still
pester’d him with an orderlesse rabble of troublesome Chimæras, he
resolv’d to keep a Register of them, hoping by that meanes one day to make
it asham’d, and blush at it self=._
_It is no wonder that these Fooleries are not easily thrown off, because
of that deep impression which they make upon the affectionate part,
through the cunning inveglements of Fancy. For men having indulg’d
Imagination, and play’d carelesly with its Fantasms, unawares take
vehement pleasure in things which they do not believe, and weep for such
inconsiderable reasons, that afterward they laugh at themselves for it,
and read Fables with such affections, as if their own or their friends
best interest were wrapp’d up in them. What strong Expectation have they
for the Issue of a doubtfull Design? How unsatisfied are they till the End
of a paper-Combate? What fears possesse them for the Knight whose part
they take? How passionately are they delighted with the Description of a
Castle built in the aire? How ravish’d upon the conceit of Beauties which
owe themselves only to the paint which came out of the Poets Ink-pot? How
are they taken with pleasure and sorrow for the good and bad success of
the Romantick Lovers? They are apt also to draw to themselves or their
friends such things as they read in far-fetch’d references: if the
resemblances suite in some little points, they seem to do and suffer such
things; and what fits not they endeavour to patch up with some feign’d
coherency._
_But if in the midst of this =busie Idlenesse= they would admit a severe
consideration of more important duties neglected the while, a few
disentangled thoughts would rout the Troop of their fond Imaginations._
_Some peradventure not altogether satisfied with that which I have said,
may reply, What, then is Fancy uselesse? Is it not one of the naturall
faculties of the Soul? Were any of them made to no purpose? Is there any
more proper entertainment for it then the Conceit and Language of a
well-form’d Romance? Many books, which pretend to declare better matters
to us, do it so jejunely, that it is a work of more then ordinary patience
to give them the reading; and we are put into a doubt, whether or no those
who wrote them did intend any should make use of their Understandings in
the perusall of them, or whether they were able to give that which others
would expect as a reasonable satisfaction. Besides, we perceive many Books
of grave Titles so afflicted with Disputes about troublesome niceties and
trifling Capriccio’s, that wise persons find the books as little of kin to
their Names, as the Contents are of small Furtherance to their best
Concernments._
_To these things I answer; Fancy is not uselesse, and may as lawfully be
gratified with excellent forms of Invention, as the Eye may entertain it
self with the Beauty of well-plac’d Colours, or the Sense of Smelling
please it self with the odours of a delicious Rose. But though it be a
Naturall Faculty, yet it is under discipline of the Supreme Governesse of
Soul and Body, Reason; and when it wanders without its Keeper, out-staying
its time in allowed diversions, or transgressing the limits of such
Subjects as sound Judgement permits, it returns abus’d with hurtfull
delight, and instead of being us’d decently, is unworthily prostituted: in
whose behalf the Rationall Guide, which is not farre off, will take notice
and complain, as it doth often, and whip the Vagrant, and not spare to
reproach it with the cheap reward of foolish recreation, for the enjoyment
of which she mispent the time which she took from her Prayers, and, it may
be, for the reading of an Idle Story neglected the Examination of her
Conscience; and afterward is made to understand that the same pleasure
which was pretended to be sought abroad, is to be found at Home. For
Reason is no such severe Mistresse as to detain us with Awe that is void
of Love and Joy; but besides the solid Complacencies of Vertue, allows
also the chearfull entertainments of Wit and Fancy. There are Books good
store where Truths of greatest Importance are presented neither besmeared
with loathsome Nonsence, nor blended with unprofitable Disputes, which
adde nothing to Religion, but trouble and darknesse, and where Excellent
sense and good words offer themselves in such lovely Embraces, that they
are a perfect content to all beholders but such as cannot Fancy,
Understand and Love. Wit and ability of mind do so shine in many Religious
Discourses, that we cannot justly make that pretended defect an Excuse for
our deferring of sober studies. Now God forbid that we should think his
Gifts so imprudently thrown amongst men, that none should be able to get
them that would use them to the adorning of that which most deserves it,
Vertue; which, though by reason of its innate beauty it least needs any
adventitious ornament, yet doth not scorn the light vaile of Romance, if
it be of that fashion which I shall by and by describe._
_It were a thing to be wondred at, that by many nothing is esteem’d witty,
except =Poetry= and =Romances=, but that want of Judgement doth
notoriously discover it self in those persons who are =highly= pleas’d
with =pittifull= things. Divers of their =admired= Authors are so =empty=
of true =worth=, that if the =entire= sense of their books were summ’d up,
it would onely amount to some small matter as =triviall= as =uselesse=:
And if most of them, whether =Antient= or =Modern=, were examined with a
=Judicious= Eye, they would appear to be full of the grossest
=Indecorum’s= of Invention, as =odious misrepresentations= of =Divinity=,
=unnaturall Descriptions= of =Humane Life=, =Improper= and =Prophane
Allusions to Sacred Things=, =frequent= and =palpable Contradictions=,
=Sottish stories=, and in short, all the =absurdities= of =wild
Imagination=. I need not verifie this by bringing together those great
multitudes of Instances which abound in that sort of books written in the
=Greek=, =Latin=, =Italian= and =French= Languages. If any desire, they
may see it done largely in the =Extravagant Shepheard=, especially in the
Speech of =Clarimond= in the 13th. book, not long since translated by Mr.
=Davies=._
_For my own part I do not desire that all books should be as dull as many
are, and none compos’d, as all are not, to delight; but I would have that
delight true, and the quicknesse not evaporate into Lightnesse and Vanity.
Is there no joy but laughter? Doth nothing recreate but what is fabulous?
Such as do not like true happinesse, because it is a serious thing, have a
reasonable Soul bestowed upon them in vain, and would have been better
pleas’d if God had made them worse, and more content if God had not
design’d them to so Noble an End. But those which like nothing except what
goes in a plain Rode of talk, may as reasonably desire every body to
spell, when they read. Such as would not have Truth presented in ingenious
Schemes of Discourse, do foolishly condemn the wisdom of the Antients,
some of which we may not reprove without a kind of Blasphemy: and whilst
they understand not the Excellent use of Apologues, Parables, and such
like Modes of signification, they are sufficiently answer’d by the
Confession of their own Ignorance. There are severall spirits in the
World; some will take a thing one way, that will not another. A Physitian
will not wisely quarrell with his Patient, because he refuseth to take the
Pill unlesse it be guilded. There are also some persons that need to have
some things told them, which because they are guarded with the stately
Circumstance of Worldly Quality, one cannot so easily come near them as in
a Disguise._