Prefaces to Four Seventeenth-Century Romances

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.