incomparable Expression: and Truth is not unwilling to be dress’d by such;
and those which revile them for their paines, are justly abhorr’d for
their Envy, or pitied for their Ignorance. Its a mischief that distresses
most little Capacities, impotently to desire that all others should be
constituted after their size; and having passionately, but foolishly,
wish’d such a thing a great while, at last they begin to believe that what
they desire is so indeed._
_It is an ungratefull folly and a pride to be laugh’d at, when men are
unwilling that others should endeavour to further their Good, because they
gave them not leave to prescribe them the way for doing of it: but they
should consider, that there may be such in the world which understand that
which themselves do not, and are delighted with such things as they
contemn._
_But some that mean well, and think they are not mistaken in the sense of
their proposition, humbly desire that those Excellent Wits would lay their
design of Romance deeper then the Shallows of Fancy; that so the Reader
may not stick upon every Shelf of Fiction, and that the streams of Wit be
made navigable for the Importation of such Wisdom as is necessary for our
best life. The design to please is then as well accomplished; but not
terminating in the surface of Recreation, it is improv’d into a higher
advantage of those nobler faculties which God hath given us._
_They think also that the Way to this End is miss’d, when the Authors
account their Contrivance poor, unless they can sail under water too. As
when there is no morall design of making men better, the Work is done but
by the Halves, as we say: so if that lie under ground in such deep
conceits as but few can dive into the bottom of them, their labour is so
far only not lost, as that some who are more ingenious will take the pains
to understand what they meant._
_To conclude, I have not all this while spoke my own Hopes concerning what
I have perform’d in this work, but my wishes were hearty that it might
neither displease nor be unprofitable. Whereas I have in severall places
reprov’d some things frequently found amongst Men, I only plead, that
since they make no scruple of acting unworthily, I though: I might much
more justly take liberty to talk of it. And since you have had the
patience to be acquainted with what I would have done, if any body be
pleas’d with that which is written, I shall not be discouraged, but if
they be profited too, then I shall think that I have not laboured in
vain._
THE
Martyrdom
OF
THEODORA,
And of
DIDYMUS.
By a Person of Honour.
_LONDON_:
Printed by _H. Clark_, for _John Taylor_
at the Ship, and _Christopher Skegnes_
at the Golden Ball, in St. _Paul_’s
Church-yard, 1687.
SUCH AN ACCOUNT Of the following BOOK, Sent with it to a FRIEND;
As may serve instead of a PREFACE.
To convince you, Sir, how much more I am concern’d to have you think, I
can Obey well, than Write well; I venture to send you the _Account_, (as
imperfect and unpolish’d as it is) that you are pleas’d to command _Of the
last Hours of Theodora_. But I must beg your leave to accompany it with
another _Account_ (though but a short one) how I came to meddle with this
Subject; and why what I present you about it, is so much Maim’d, and has
no more Uniformity.
Having had occasion many years ago to turn over a Martyrology, and some
other Books, that related to the Sufferings of the Primitive Christians; I
chanc’d to light on those of a Virgin, who, though (to my wonder) she was
left unnam’d by the other Writers that mentioned her, seem’d plainly to be
the same, that is by one of them expresly call’d _Theodora_: I own, I was
not a little affected, at the reading of such moving and uncommon
adventures as hers: and finding her story to be related, by the Author
that nam’d both her and her Lover, not only very succinctly and
imperfectly, but very dully too; I found my self tempted so to enlarge
this Story, as that it might be contriv’d into a somewhat voluminous
Romance: But upon second thoughts, it appeared incongruous to turn a
Martyr into a Nymph or an Amazon: And I consider’d too, that (to omit what
else might be objected against that sort of Composures) _as_ true Pearls
are Cordials and Antidotes, which counterfeit ones, how fine soever they
may appear, are not; _so_ True Examples do arm and fortify the mind far
more efficaciously, than Imaginary or Fictitious ones can do; and the
fabulous labours of _Hercules_, and Exploits of _Arthur_ of _Britain_,
will never make men aspire to Heroick Vertue half so powerfully, as the
real Examples of Courage and Gallantry afforded by _Jonathan Cæsar_, or
the _Black Prince_. But yet, thinking it great pity, that so shining a
Vertue as _Theodora_’s should prove Exemplary, but to her own time, and to
one City; and remembring, that soon after the Age which she Ennobl’d, it
was counted among the Primitive Christians an act of Piety, to build fair
Monuments, upon the formerly abject Graves of the Martyrs; to repay, by
Honours done to their Memories, the indignities and Disgraces they had
suffer’d in their Persons; I thought fit to try, if I could rescue from
more unskilful Hands than even mine, a story that abundantly deserv’d to
be well told.
But upon further thoughts, I soon foresaw, that this Task was not more
worthy to be undertaken, than it would prove difficult to be well
perform’d: For the Martyrologist having allow’d scarce one whole Page, to
a Relation, that perhaps merited a Volume, had left so many Chasms, and so
many necessary things unmentioned, that I plainly perceiv’d, I wanted a
far greater number of Circumstances, than that he had supply’d me with to
make up so maim’d a story tolerably compleat. And as the Relation deny’d
me matter enough to work upon, so the nature of the Subject refus’d most
of those Imbellishments which in other Themes, where young Gallants and
fair Ladies are the chief Actors, are wont to supply the deficiences of
the matter. Besides, my task was not near so easie as it would have been,
if I had been only to recite the Intrigues of an Amour, with the liberty
to feign surprizing adventures, to adorn the Historical part of the
account, and to make a Lover speak as Passionately as I could, and his
Mistress as Kindly as the indulgentest laws of decency would permit. But I
was to introduce a Christian and pious Lover, who was to contain the
expressions of his Flame within the narrow bounds of his Religion; and a
Virgin, who, being as modest and discreet as handsom, and as devout as
either, was to own an high Esteem for an excellent Lover, and an uncommon
Gratitude to a transcendent Benefactor, without intrenching either upon
her Vertue, or her Reservedness. And I perceiv’d the difficulty of my Task
would be encreas’d, by that of Reconciling _Theodora_’s Scrupulousness to
the humours of some young Persons of Quality of either Sex, who were
earnest to engage my Pen on this occasion, and would expect that I should
make _Theodora_ more kind, than I thought her great Piety and strict
Modesty would permit. But for all this; the esteem I had for the fair
Martyrs Excellencies, and the compliance I had for those that desir’d to
receive an account of so rare a Persons actions and Sufferings, made me
resolve to try what I could do. Which I adventur’d upon with the less
Reluctancy, because, though I esteem’d it a kind of Profaneness, to
transform a piece of Martyrology into a Romance; yet I thought it
allowable enough, where a Narrative was written so concisely, and left so
unperfect, as That I had to descant upon; to make such supplements of
Circumstances, as were not improbable in the nature of the thing, and were
little less than necessary to the clearness and entireness of the Story,
and the decent connection of the parts it should consist of. I suppos’d
too, that I needed not scruple, to lend Speeches to the Persons I brought
upon the Stage, provided they were suitable to the Speakers, and
Occasions; since I was warranted by the Examples of _Livy_, _Plutarch_,
and other Grave and Judicious Historians, who make no scruple to give us
set Orations, of their own framing, and sometimes put them into the mouths
of Generals at the head of their Armies, just going to give Battel: though
at such times the hurry and distraction that both they and their Auditors
must be in, must make it very unlikely, either that they should make
elaborate Speeches, or their Hearers mind and remember them well enough
to repeat them to the Historians.
Encourag’d by these Liberties, which I thought I might justly allow my
self: I drew up, as well as I could, what you have been told I wrote about
_Theodora_. This I thought fit to divide into two parts; in the first
whereof, (which was less remote from being Romantick) I gave somewhat at
large the Characters of them both. I mention’d the rise and progress of
_Didymus_’s Love; the degeneracy of the then Christians, which provok’d
Divine Providence, to expose them to a very Bloody Persecution: I
declar’d, how _Theodora_ being involv’d in it, was brought before the
_President_ of _Antioch_; how she resolutely own’d her Religion before
him, answer’d His Arguments, and resisted both his Promises, and his
Menaces; how thereupon the Judge doom’d her either to Sacrafice, or to be
prostituted in the publick _Stews_. How she, after an eager Debate in her
own mind, refusing to offer sacrifice, was, (notwithstanding her silence)
led away to the infamous place; how being shut up there alone in a Room,
she employ’d the little time, that was granted her to consider whether she
would yet burn Incense to the _Roman_ Idols, in fervent Prayer to the true
God, for a rescue of her Purity, not her Life; in order whereunto, she
design’d and hop’d by Resistance and Contumelies to provoke her first
Assailant, to become her Murderer, rather than her Ravisher.
These were the chief Contents of the first Book. Those of the second, were
more Historical; and consisted of an account of the last hours of her
Life, and particularly of those Sufferings that ended in her and
_Didymus_’s glorious Martyrdom. This piece having been perus’d by those
for whose sake I wrote it; was so fortunate, that it having, without my
leave, been ventur’d into several hands, as a Book of a nameless and
unknown Author, it was lucky enough to be, by some indulgent Readers,
attributed to One, and by some to Another, of the two Persons, that were
at that time counted the best writers of disguis’d Histories. But among
the many Hands it pass’d through, it seems it fell into some, out of which
a great part of the loose sheets, (which were not bound in a Book, but
only tack’d together) were not to be retriev’d: whether it were by the
negligence, or the contempt, that some had of so unpolish’d a Work; or
whether there were some fatality in the Business, that _Theodora_’s
Sufferings should outlive her, and her Story be as ill us’d as her Person
had been. This loss, (if it can deserve that name) I did not much regret:
Since I intended not to make the lost Papers publick, and had receiv’d
much greater approbation and thanks than they merited, from the particular
Persons they were design’d for. But after I had for many years worn out,
not only the sense, but the memory of this loss: It was made more
troublesom to me, than ever it was at first, by the earnest solicitations
of some eminent Persons, that had a great power over me, and some of them
the repute of great Judges of this kind of Composures. For having seen
several Sheets, that I accidentally lighted on, in tumbling over some long
neglected Papers; they oblig’d me to cause those old rude sheets to be
transcrib’d. And tho’ almost all the first Book was wanting, (upon which
account, I could not be remov’d from my Resolution not to trouble my self
about it) yet there was so much of the Second Book, but in parts no way
Coherent, little by little retriev’d, that a pretence was afforded to
press me to repair those Breaches, and restore out of my memory, or
otherwise, a piece, which they would needs perswade me might do some good,
by rendring Vertue Amiable, and recommending Piety to a sort of Readers,
that are much more affected by shining Examples, and pathetical
Expressions, than by dry Precepts, and grave Discourses.
If some of your more scrupulous Friends shall object, that I have
mentioned _Theodora_’s Beauty more often and advantagously, and
represented her Lovers Passion more Pathetically, than the subject of the
story exacted, and the truth requir’d in History would warrant; I shall
not altogether deny the Charge: Being rather content to have it thought,
that a youthful and heated fancy transported my Pen, somewhat beyond the
narrow bounds of History, than that so Pious a person as _Didymus_ did not
keep both his Flame, and the Expressions of it, within the limits of
Reason and Religion. But though I pretend not to justifie, all that has
been said in the strain of an Encomiast, or a Lover, yet I hop’d that I
may much Extenuate, if not Excuse it, by representing such things as
these.
That I have been careful, that _Theodora_ should not be made to do, or
say, any thing, that, the great Obligations she had to her Rescuer
consider’d, do intrench either upon her Piety, or her Vertue, or so much
as upon her Reserv’dness.
That as for _Didymus_; I might say, that probably he thought, those
Celebrations that would have been Flattery to another Lady, were but
Justice to a Person so Extraordinary, and so accomplish’d as his
Mistress; and that he thought it allowable, not to suppress the chast
effects of a Passion, that has not only been incident to Heroes, but
perhaps help’d to make them such. But I will rather say, that those only
are like to find much fault with his Expressions, _who_ consider not how
free they are from any degree of Prophaneness or Immodesty: And _who_ are
not accustomed to the reading of Stories, where Lovers are introduc’d, and
made to Praise and Complement in a far more Bold and Romantick way, than I
allowed my self in the following Paper. In which, all the Deference,
wherewith _Irene_ as well as _Didymus_ treat _Theodora_, may be accounted
for by this; That I remember’d to have, in some Author or other, found
Mention made of a Person about _Dioclesian_’s time, Whom I took for our
Martyr, that was intimated to be of high Quality, if not a _Princess_,
which Title I had without scruple given Her, If I had been half as sure
that she Was a _Princess_, as that she Deserv’d to be One.
That perhaps I was not unwilling, both to shew the Persons I wrote for,
that One might have glittering _Idea_’s of Beauty, without being dazl’d by
them; and also to convince them, that high Complements and passionate
expressions, are no certain Marks of His being really _Smitten_ (to speak
in a Lovers Phrase) that can Imploy them; since I retain’d my wonted
freedom of mind, while I was Writing; and presented them by the mouth of
_Didymus_, but what Fancy, not Passion indited.
And lastly, I was induc’d to allow my self a more fashionable Stile, than
would perhaps be suitable to a meer Sermon, or Book of Divinity, because I
fear’d, that the Youthful Persons of Quality of both Sexes, that I was
chiefly to regard, would scarce be sufficiently affected by unfortunate
Vertue, if the interweaving of passages relating to Beauty and Love, did
not help to make the Tragical story, Delightful, add the Excellent
Sufferers Piety, Amiable.
If it be objected, that in some of the discourses of the two Martyrs,
there are Passages that argue more Knowledge, than is likely to have been
found in Lay Persons no Elder than they. I answer, that such Discourses
indeed were somewhat strange, if they were ascrib’d to a young Gallant,
and a younger Lady, of Our degenerate Times; wherein so many Persons of
that sort, make Diversion their grand Business; and, having as little
Leisure as Concern to mind any thing, but their Pleasures and petty
Interests, think it their Priviledge to know little of Religion, and leave
to meaner People the study of things Serious and Useful. But, _though_
among this sort of Persons, it were so difficult to find many that would
Emulate such Knowledge and Vertue as shin’d in _Theodora_, that I fear
they would not so much as believe them; _yet_ among better qualify’d
Judges, the lately propos’d objection will be of no great force, if it be
consider’d, that _Didymus_ and _Theodora_ liv’d in the Primitive and
devout times of the Church, and in the _Roman_ Empire, when the Christian
Religion was as diligently Taught by Excellent Divines, as frequently
Oppos’d by Arguments, and violently assaulted by Persecutions. Upon which
scores, the zealous Candidates of Martyrdom, many of which obtain’d the
Crown of it, even in their greener Age, were early and skilfully
instructed in the truths of their own Religion, and furnish’d with good
Arguments, both to Defend It, and Confute the Erroneous Opinions and
Impious worships of their Heathen Adversaries. Nor is it any wonder, that
they should think That Religion worth Studying, that they thought worth
Dying for. I will not here examine, whether the Ignorance wont to be
imputed to Women, be Their fault, or that of their Accusers, and whether
it is any natural want of Capacity, or rather want of Instruction, that
keeps most of them from Knowledge, though This regards not Sexes. But
without inquiry, whether it be not our Interest, or our Envy, that Makes
Women what we are wont to decry them for Being; I shall not scruple to
own, that I have sometimes had the honour to converse with Ladys, that
convinc’d me, That, to attain to a great proficiency in Knowledge, ’tis
not necessary to be a Doctor of Divinity, or so much as a Man, since they
discours’d of Divine things, with no less Wit than Piety. And to return to
our Martyr, if we may judge by the Effects, we may reasonably suppose,
that our Virgins Parents not only thought it their Duty, but took much
Pleasure, to Cultivate so excellent and promising a Subject as their fair
Daughter. Since great advantages of Nature and general Grace should rather
Invite, than Excuse, Improvements by Education; as even the _Garden of
Eden_, though an admirably fertile Soil, and planted by God’s own Hands,
was not so left to itself, but that _Adam_ was appointed to dress it, and
to keep it. And if the Discourses of our Martyrs are sometimes less short
than they might have been made; I hope it may be some excuse, that I was
not unwilling, to lay hold now and then of the Rises afforded me by some
occasions, to shew, that Romantick Subjects are not, as too many Persons
of Quality think them, the Only ones, that may be treated of in a
Gentleman-like stile; and that even some noble Questions in Divinity, and
some of the severer Dictates of the Christian Morals, may be discours’d
of, without the harshness of the School Terms, or the downright plainness
of some better Meant, than Pen’d, Books of Theology and Devotion.
’Tis like Sir, you will think it strange, that I make so Pious a Person as
_Theodora_, offer her Breast to _Didymus_’s Sword, and by soliciting him
to Kill her, tempt him to an Action, which would make _her_ guilty of a
Murder, and make _him_ greatly accessory to it. But possibly her Action
would not appear very strange, if we were not too enclinable to estimate
the Affairs of Past Times, and Remote Regions, by the Opinions and
Customes of our own Age and Countrys. For, what ever we now justly think
of the sinfulness of Destroying a Mans self, whether immediately or
otherwise, yet I must not deny, but that divers of the Ancient Christians
thought it not Criminal, when it was necessary for the preservation of
Chastity. And, if I much misremember not, St. _Jerom_ himself, where he
speaks of the unlawfulness of Self-destroying, intimates, that he excepts
the Case of an inevitable danger of a Rape. But my chief answer is, that
having found the Virgin Martyrs proposal expresly deliver’d by the Author
I was to follow, I judg’d it the part of an Historian not to suppress it;
which I acknowledge, I the rather declin’d to do, because _Theodoras_
offer was a noble evincement, both of her Gratitude and her Generosity.
And therefore, instead of Omitting so considerable an Action of hers, I
chose rather to Set my thoughts a work, to find a plausible Colour for it.
Which whether I have happily done, by supplying her with the Example of a
Prophet, who, though he would not cast Himself into the Sea, yet
solicited Others to cast him, (and that having first bound him) I must
leave You to judge.
I freely confess, Sir, that, if the following Piece had been written by
One, that I were fond of Censuring, I could my self find enough in it to
Criticize upon; and should object against it, besides the want of
Uniformity throughout, That if judg’d of by the strict Rules of Art, it
ought to pass for an Irregular Piece. And therefore I shall not wonder, if
Nicer Criticks, and more vers’d in Exquisite Composures than I pretend to
be, shall find fault with this Artless one of mine. But the reception that
the following Papers met with, from the Persons for whom they were chiefly
written, affords me the Consolation derivable from the ingenious saying of
that excellent Wit, who declar’d, _He had rather the Dishes serv’d up at
his Treat, should please the Guests, than the Cooks_. And I might say too,
that some of the Passages that may meet with Censure, would perhaps escape
it; if in writing this Book many years agoe, I had not had some Aims, that
I then thought more fit to be Pursu’d, than I now do to be Declar’d. Yet I
will not here dissemble, that I know it may be thought by some, that this
Paper should have consisted less of Conversations, and more of Narratives.
But I chose the way of Writing I have employ’d, _partly_ because the
Authors I met with furnish’d me with so very few matters of Fact, that if
I would have confin’d my self to Relations; I must have compriz’d this
piece in a very few Pages, and have finish’d it presently after I had
begun it: And _partly_ too, (and indeed much more) because (as I lately
began to intimate) my chief design was not so much, to perform the Office
of a meer Historian, as to take Rises from the several Circumstances I
should relate, to convey unperceivedly, into the minds of those young
Persons of Quality for whom I wrote, Sentiments of true Piety and Vertue.
And these I thought would not so happily gain admittance and
entertainment, it they were presented in a Scholar like Discourse, or a
profess’d Book of devotion, as when they were taken, not from common
places but from the Nature of the Things and Persons Introduc’d; and
without formality Instill’d by the occasional discourses of a young
Gentleman and fair Lady, for whom the Beauty and the Merit ascrib’d to the
Speakers, had given the Hearers a great Esteem and Kindness. And I shall
not scruple to own, that I, who value time above most other things, did
not think it worth the expence of mine, to give my self the trouble of
Writing a Book, only to give others a Divertisement in Reading it. And
whilst I was Conversing with such Excellent Company, as our noble Martyrs,
and Meditating on such Serious Subjects, as are Death, and the Worth of
that Heavenly Religion for whose sake They despis’d It; I found my self
Incited, and thought my self Oblig’d, to aim less at the Pleasing of some
few Nice Exactors of Regularity, than to Possess many Readers with high
and noble Sentiments of the Christian Religion, and the sublime Dictates
of it; and thereby both Elevate their minds to a generous Contempt of all
they can lose and suffer for it, and Fill them with bright _Idea_’s of
Heroick Vertue, and of the much brighter Glories that will Crown it. By
such Reflections, I was induc’d not to omit some Passages that seem’d
likely to further the main Ends I pursu’d, though I forsaw, that perhaps
some rigid Judges would say, that they might have been spar’d. For _as_ I
writ not a Romance, wherein Authors are wont to aim no higher, than to
Delight the Delicate Readers, and Escape the Critical ones, by making
their Composures Diverting and Regular; _so_ I presum’d that to employ a
more Useful, though less Fashionamble way of Writing, was allowable for
Me, who ought _to_ endeavour in such a piece as This, rather to propose
Patterns of Vertue, than Models of Skill or Eloquence; and _to_ think it
more Successful, if the Readers shall upon perusing it, Imitate our
excellent Martyrs Piety, than if they should only Applaud their History.
Which both as to Stile and Reasonings, is freely submitted to your
Judgment, by
_Sir,
your most_ &c.
ERRATA.