DECLAM. I. A certain Damsel reduc'd to want, sells her Hair to relieve her in her Po­verty.

IF no reproach can fully the brightness, nor eclipse the glory of shining Vertue; if the calumny that persecutes a famous Exploit, add to the Praise of him that atchiev'd it, Then our Virgin amongst the distracting cares of pinching Poverty, con­gratulates the censure of that action, by which she shew'd her self more than Wo­man. 'Twould have made the Modesty of a Maid to Blush, so publickly to be ex­pos'd [Page 2]to the view of the world, but that she is inflam'd with that sacred Ardor, which is kindled in the Breast of pious Matrons, when concern'd and zealous for the injur'd Fame of their traduc'd Innocence.

On her own accord she sues for Judgment, not as if conscious to her self, she did at all fear, least silence should speak her guilty; But that she might publickly wipe off all Aspersions, and might comfortably enjoy her Accusation: she had no need of an Ad­vocate to defend the sale of her comly tresses, her hard Fortune was plea sufficient, and she is abundantly protected by her chast Inte­grity.

This wretched Damsel in this sad condi­tion could neither hope for Hatred, nor ex­pect Envy; she suppos'd her miseries a charm against the malignity of the severest Fortune, and her obscurity a sanctuary against any harm; and therefore doth at once both wonder, and grieve too, that she is summo­ned to a Tribunal; as if she were encircled with a Crown of Happiness, or were an ob­ject worthy of Spleen and Malice. This poor Girl implores your pity, both on her slender Estate and her Baldness too; which was not caus'd by slothful age, or feeble lust, but was inflicted upon her by ravenous hunger [Page 3]and the merciless tyranny of cruel destiny, she was distress'd in her infancy, and felt the ri­gor of Fortune in her very cradle; where she seem'd at once with the same cry both to deprecate her nakedness and lament it too.

Her miseries increas'd as she grew in years; and Poverty (as it were) was equally adult with her person too. What should this Vir­gin do so miserably involv'd in so great Evils? Her extremity render her labour and in­dustry vain and fruitless; and such a Lent of fasting had whither'd the Spring of her blooming youth into the Autumnal decays of wrinckled age. After she had a long time striven, and all in vain, with these her stubborn and obstinate troubles. At length she finds out some little redress for all her grievance, and an innocent remedy for her urgent necessity; she cuts off her locks to supply her wants. And indeed in so pres­sing a calamity, she was glad to find any thing that was vendible, any thing that could refresh the languors, and strengthen the weakness of her feeble limbs, and by a short truce prevent the invasion of approaching death. If it be lawful with any price to bribe off destruction, and with all arts ima­ginable to purchase the comforts of present life, Then, why is this Damsel censur'd for a [Page 4]little deferring her fatal blow, and for re­deeming with spoils of her own body the delights and Pleasures of a few days. Although loss of Hair is an unhandsome defect in the female Sex, yet where is the woman, that studies her dress, or regards gallantry amidst the dubious concerns of an uncertain life, and the expected horrors of almost present death? Affected neatness and curiosity of attire, is quite neglected, when the pale fiend advanceth forward, in a frightful garb of his own terrors darting himself in a glance or look. Want of Hair is far more tolerable than want of Bread; and Baldness to be preferr'd before Hunger, and the continual languors of a starv'd carkass. 'Tis far more pleasant to have no Hair than to dye by degrees, and to perish insensibly by piece-meal, and tedi­ously to depart, and (as it were) after repeat­ed Funerals to breath her last. Though a naked head in a wench is scandalous, yet why should disgraces vex her? 'Tis Revenge enough to see her pale, and to hear the ac­cents of her mournful groans.

Suffer therefore this unhappy Virgin to enjoy the benefit of her baldness, and let her live in her own punishment. See! The woods are depriv'd of their leaves and orna­ments, [Page 5]and the Dryades suffer (as it were) an annual baldness for the better increase of their inward vigor, and that under the pretence and shew of age, they may resume and flou­rish in a fresher verdure, and boast the ele­gance and flower of their retriv'd youth; she cares not for Deformity, Infamy, nor her Re­ligion neither, so long as hunger (like an Enemy) forrages within making men Canni­bals to themselves, and (O horrible!) devour­ing the prey of their own members. When Famine had added terror to her eyes, and you might have contemplated her stiff joints, and bloodless cheeks, you would have stood amaz'd at the sight of this Ghost of a carcass; especially to have seen, amidst the ugly shapes, and figures of death, the dischevell'd wan­tonness of her loose tresses, nourisht by the horror and dread of Fate, and produc'd by squallid Contagion and Putrefaction.

We have here an excellent Example of rare Prudence, and an admirable pattern of singular Virtue. Behold! an unhappy Lass amids the Inconveniences of a Cottage, and other hardships of an adverse Fortune despi­seth the blandishments, and flatteries of the world; nay more, contemns that, which either Hunger or Want ought to have desir'd, she suf­fered that which the women of Aquileia had [Page 6]done before her, who amidst the ravenings of War, and Famine, pol'd their heads, not be­cause grief or despair, but danger commands them to make halry bowstrings.

Our poor Girl hath suffer'd war, hath en­dur'd famin, yet hath return'd with equal Victory: If therefore you will still go on to condemn her baldness, why do you not con­demn her chastity too? and censure the Em­blem of the greatest Modesty? she could not behold her deformity with a greater dislike than her attempted Virginity; and a sollicitati­on to dishonesty was in her Judgement capi­tal. She shaves her head, sells her hair, lest her poverty should tempt her to become a prostitute; and so by the damage of her beauty prevents her infamy; Pardon therefore the fall and loss of those locks, which if kept any longer, had prov'd fatal to her Virtue! Par­don that she sold them, which was not so much to prolong her life, as before a Tribu­bunal to give the reason of that her Action. She humbly implores you, to let her enjoy the innocence of her calamity, and also the com­forts of Poverty, Baldness, and Chastity.

DECLAM. II. Against the Girl that cut off her Hair to relieve her want.

I Pray do not think that I being a yong man do willingly accuse this fair Maid, who besides is young and tender, and had she not lost her Hair is a beauty too. There lies a necessity upon me of undertaking this un­grateful Province. Behold this wretched young wench every way surrounded with the greatest extremity! 'Tis true indeed, she is sufficiently embellish'd with the endowments of nature, but poorly furnish't (God wot) with the gifts of Fortune; being far better adorn'd with beauty, than enrich't with an Estate; she hath a chest indeed, but small and empty. But though Fortune heaps no gold in her coffer, yet Nature hath shed it upon her Hair. But see! at length this blind Goddess sends her gifts, but I fear on hooks, and so baits the Damsel with her deceitful pre­sents. The silly Girl receives with one hand the boons of Fortune, and bestows with [Page 8]the other the goods of Nature; she takes the money, and gives her hair.

But (alas!) of how little value are these dangling tresses, those superfluous threds of her troubled head, if compared with the om­nipotence of sacred gold? 'Twas this opini­on that deceiv'd the Virgin into such deformi­ty, which she had rather richly endure with money, than poorly without it to enjoy her beauty entire: and her charms inviolable; as if one and the same could not be fair and needy; and as if the features of a woman were not a richer dowry, than Attalick wealth. Beauty doth that in the softer sex, which va­lour doth in the stronger; and as this doth en­noble the base, and advance them to a pitch of dignity and honour, so that doth raise the mean, and recommend them to the embraces of Kings and Princes. How vile therefore and what a nothing is a little modicum, a parcel of money, if standing in competition with the Divinity of beauty! This unfor­tunate Lass hath made such a swop as Glaucus in Homer, who chang'd away his gold foo­lishly for brass, and may deservedly be styl'd the very Proverb of stupidity.

But consider, (I pray) urgent necessity did press upon her: The reward of her hands could hardly defend her from the injuries of [Page 9]cold and hunger; labour and diligence was all her possession, and her whole revenue. But who diminisheth that true wealth far to be preferred above Persian riches? But what hurt is there in a shaven crown, though there is no money given for the filth and excre­ments of a nasty head? We confess our hair to be nothing else but the scurff and dregs of a cribrous head, stretch't and extended into slender threds; but the more vile the mate­rials, the more admirable and exquisite the skill and workmanship. The excellency of these above other locks doth evidently ap­pear from the very desires of him that buys them, which were greedy and pecunia­ry. Behold! how importunate his petiti­ons! How vehement his wishes! and how eagerly doth he long for the possession of them? For this very reason (O besieg'd Virgin!) because he is so instant, deny his request; for if fictitious cruck's add such a grace to other heads what glories and pret­tinesses must these scatter upon her neck, be­ing never transplanted from their native soil, nor ever depriv'd of their natural elegance.

On this thy crime do thou thy self pass sentence (O most indiscreet Virgin!) Thou canst not be acquitted by thy self thy Judge. The richer mettal of thy golden hair thou hast [Page 10]chang'd, and truck't for viler silver, and ha [...] deliver'd that to the buyer, which might have been a credit and an ornament to the seller— Beware therefore for the future of thine own glass; For that which even now did please thee with the lovely reflection of thy flattered Image now affright's thee with the mormo's, and represented horrours of thine ugly shapes: neither is there any reason why thou shouldst expect a milder doom from our tribunal, whose candour, smiles, and expanded brow, your filthy baldness hath terrified and conver­ted into contracted frowns.

DECLAM. III. Tiberius did well, in forbidding the Kindred of those that were Condem­ned to Lament and Mourn.

IF the sacredness of Laws ought to be kept and preserved inviolable; and if a do­mestick conspirator is more dangerous than a forreign invader, then wicked sighs brea­thed [Page 11]out for criminals, are to be accus'd as guilty, and mourning weeds presage as much the fate of the mourner, as the death of him for whom he griev's. Certainly the Empe­rour did well consult the good of his Citizens who forbad and condemn'd both the rebelli­on, and impiety of those groans and tears that were both utter'd and shed at a wicked funeral. That conspiracy ought to be bury'd in the deepest silence, which, with a clamo­rous grief would recal the soul of an expiring Tyrant, repair the decays of wasted strength, and with a new life restore fresh and more vi­gorous treacheries. It had been noble and generous at the death of a Captain, though an enemy, to perform such funeral rites; which his souldiers would have celebrated with solemn pomp. Thus in vain the He­roe of old breath'd his soul into his gasping companion, in vain he embrac't him, clos'd his eyes, and in vain he imbib'd his last breath: But when a villain dyes, let his neigh­bour fear, nay let his unhappy issue too, to suck and receive his last spirit, lest the wretch should bequeath in the legacy of a sob his crimes and should pant slaughter, and so after death live in his kindred still a murderer; as mad dogs by biting and hags by kissing instill their poysons, and leave a deadly dart on their [Page 12]friends lips. Hence often it is that an in­nocent son possessing the soul of his damn'd father, inherits his vices and his punishments too.

The Deities would have us dumb and silent who with secret darts do scatter death, for­bidding all noise, but their own thunder, and seeing no body that's guilty dies lamented by his neighbour, we must obey Fate; Thus one being smitten, the prudent herd consulting its safety, deny's a refuge to the wounded Deer, and willingly comply's with the ex­pert Archer to prevent the slaughter of more sacrifices.

Grief trickling from Parents in such li­beral showers, seems to suspect the integrity of the Judge, and to accuse the magistrate of injustice too, whilst he is thought to be cor­rupt, and his power criminal. And indeed, well may such tears affright, and terrify, which do patronize wickedness, and it's Authors too. Though they distil silently, and in their first drops discover only but feeble angers, but at length, when floods shall meet with floods, and Blasts of sighs are opposed by blasts, then the deluge of sorrow swells into complaints, and boils, and ferments into impotent revenge. The aspect of these mourners grow fierce and cru­el, [Page 13]who execute with their looks, and mur­der the assertors of their own right. Af­ter such mild severity, and so calm a storm, let it shame the Citizens to weep more! let them blush to grieve for dying treachery, and let not the out-cry of a conclamation, but more pleasant noises attend the herse! If a doleful mother always pregnant with a vitious brood, should still deplore her nefarious off-spring, in vain are prisons, and tribunals; where the Hypocrisie of grief, and counterfeit lamentations corrupt the fidelity and integrity both of Judge and witness; and so the guilty enjoy their suffrages, and so numerous Patrons of vice do expiate the crime.

If guilt be in so great esteem, let the Guard be armed from a full prison, and let the weep­ing City reduced and profligated by a rebel­lious Citizen, feel those treacheries, of which the lamented villains were the Authors! and let it deplore the loss of its robust vigor so plainly enfeebled by their strength; Thus the swift Hart is griev'd at his horns, when their unprofitable weight does hinder flight, and when the useless burden of his branch­ing head shall expose him as a prey to the cruel hunter. The condition of the Repub­lick was more prosperous, and flourishing after the slaughter of these Citizens; For [Page 14]whilst friends do torment, and joyfully pu­nish malefactors, the old contagion begins to languish, and that pristine fury dispers'd amongst many dyes and determines in the au­thor only: But if turgent sorrow shall im­prove the fertility of growing impiety, and the poyson that's nourish't in one member doth not only infect a single man, but cor­rupt also the whole alliance, then the com­passionate Father in vain laments his conscious grief, the Mother in vain repents of her un­just sorrow and that she hath thus polluted her innocent tears, which deserve to be pu­nish't, not for her own, but only for the guilt of her condemn'd son. And thus, whilst the same crime hath made them all equal, and they are as much ally'd by vice, as blood, let the whole family be accus'd, and the whole progeny be condemn'd! let no solemn ho­nours confiscate with his heritage attend his herse; no funeral rites grace and adorn his prophane pile! Let not his condemned ashes enjoy the repose of a quiet Urn! Let his carcass lye unburied, that as well dead as alive he may suffer punishment.

DECLAM. IV. The Carthaginians did very ill, in cru­cifying a Captain unadvisedly waging war, though he returned with Victo­ry.

THough a reverent esteem is to be shewn to Laws, and the sanctions of the Coun­trey are not to be despised, yet 'tis unjust (methinks) to condemn to the cross this Captain, who so unwillingly did violate but one of these, and that meerly to defend the City, and all things besides, from the violence and injury of a furious enemy. Law-givers know not what a day may bring forth; their Constitutions and Decrees must give place a little when occasion shall require, the Pru­dence of the General is disregarded; lest, if the Magistrate should by a Gibbet deterr the Souldiers from conquering against their or­ders, they should so much fear capital punish­ment, as not to endeavour the safety of the Republick. How doth this Captain fluctu­ate, [Page 16]afflicted with the dubious fate of Metius, being on all sides distracted by instant death! If he should be conquer'd, he becomes a sa­crifice to the insolence of his enemy; and so ruine and destruction must needs befall him; but if he triumphs, the cross, a gibbet, and a more ignoble fate attends him. However he had rather try the clemency of noted Car­thage, than expose himself, his Countrey, to the cruelty of a Victorious, and odious Nation. He hop'd that his good success might have easily atton'd for the envy of the fact, and that it would not have been so ungrateful to Carthage; in regard he had been so adven­tageous to it. He fights therefore and over­comes, and by the votes of the Carthaginians he is adjudged to the cross. A man certainly most worthy of life, who for the publick good made himself obnoxious to so severe a death.

But what unjust cruelty is this, to hurry a Conquerour spared by the tempest of war and arms, to a punishment more barbarous than his enemies sword? He that contrary to the Laws, and with suspence of success, or unfor­tunately joins battle, let him endure the de­served smart of his own rashness; but who­soever inflicts penance on a Conqueror, whose war both the favour of the Gods, and the event do allow of, he both disquiets and ac­cuses [Page 17]Heaven. By what an unhappy kind­ness of the fates hath our captain survived the battle, to be reserv'd a victime for the igno­minious cross! He might have fell (being conquer'd) by the revenge of his enemies, without the crime of a guilty Judge. But whilst by the unjust suffrages of the Citizens he is punish't with a gibbet and disgrac't too; the life of the Conquerour, and the justice of the Country go both to wrack.

So falls our Captain, as famous for the me­rit of his excellent valour, as remarkable for the disgrace of an ungrateful City; who, that he might render Carthage victorious, was not startled at the danger, either of field or tri­bunal, but twice hazarded his life, and had twice conquer'd, if the Carthaginians had not been more obdurate than his enemies souldi­ers. He dy'd not being overpower'd in bat­tel, neither through his own miscarrage or default of Fortune, his punishment is aggrava­ted by the unworthiness of it, for he is adjudg­ed by them to death, to whom by his victory he gave life.

This great Severity may be thought the greatest Justice; which though it may be de­fended perhaps by Law, yet not in Equity. What if the Captain being assur'd of Victory did not expect the commands of his Country? [Page 18]An Enemy may be conquered before it can be determined by the Senate, whether a Ge­neral shall fight or not. The Fate of this Officer is very deplorable, who might be com­pell'd by the Laws to be conquer'd, but could not overcome securely against them. But the sense of the Law is to be regarded, and not the terms. The Carthaginians forbad their Generals to fight against the Orders and Con­stitutions of their Country, because Captains, especially young ones, are inflam'd with a de­sire of Renown and Victory, and oftentimes run upon an engagement rashly, so that the Strength and Prosperity of the Republick is much abated, and the Glory of their Nation obscur'd by the fatal overthrow of their de­feated Army.

But our Captain, wise and prudent, as well as valiant, knew he should conquer before he sought; neither is it to be doubted, but that the Law-givers themselves, if they had been present at the Warr, and had understood the conveniences of Fighting would have advised to them an Encounter. How unjust therefore is it to condemn that, which, if present, they had approv'd of; and that too after the Victory was won, and Trophies raised through the Conduct and Valour of this wise Cap­tain!—Certainly there is reason to suspect [Page 19]that the Carthaginians did not so much take ill the violation of the Law, as they envyed the Honors and Triumphs of the Victor; and therefore censur'd him to so shameful a death. His doom was barbarous and cruel, and if after the dangers of War the Citizens shall thus at home threaten the cross to their victo­rious Captains, they may deservedly fear, least hereafter they should want men to defend their Countrey.

DECLAM. V. Whether Codrus did well in devoting himself to destruction, and losing both his Life and Liberty for the safety of his Country.
Against Codrus.

SEeing there is no Happiness to a people, but what depends on the Counsel and Valour of a prudent Prince, He therefore [Page 20]that throws away his life for his Countries good, seems not so much to prevent it's misery, as to increase and hasten its approaching Ru­ine. For after the decease of a valiant Em­perour who dares not assault a people wretch­ed, and without a head? Who dares not provoke them being destitute, and void of Strength? Who hopes not to subdue them, and to raise Trophies to himself from their Spoils, seeing they are without Counsel, which is a stronger fortress aginst their Enemy, than Bulwarks and Castles.

The sudden death of Codrus might perhaps remove from his Country some present cala­mity; it might perhaps disperse an imminent Storm. But (alas!) to what Evils is it left expos'd, now he is gone, who could alone preserve it who whilst he liv'd was its only safeguard? There is no Law observed now the Emperour is dead. The distracted Peo­ple sheath their swords in their own bowels, and by mutuall slaughters bring that destructi­on upon themselves, which was forbidden by the Oracle to fall upon the Peleponensiaus. No Homage, and Obedience is paid to Go­vernours, the Subject hath shaken off the yoke from his neck, and every miscreant lays un­just claim to that Empire, which was left by the Princes voluntary death — Thus (O Co­drus!) [Page 21]hast thou involved others in thine own Ruine, and thy Death hath been more pernicious to thy Country than ever could thy Life be, which was so odious (as thou thought'st) to the Athenians. But yet 'twas so dear to the Gods, as that thine Ene­mies were commanded not to deprive thee of it, or to dip their swords in thy precious gore. But thou disdainst so kind a Favour, and by fighting (like the Giants) against Heaven, hast exposed thy self to an ignominious Death. For Codrus did not Heroically in the Feild discomfit his Enemy with a threatning look, neither shining in Armor, or besmear'd with Blood, did he breath his last, but deludes his Enemy with a disguise in the habit of a poor man, and doth spontaneously embrace a de­generous Death.

Seeing he undertook such great things for his Country, he (without doubt) propos'd to himself great Rewards; such as should pur­chase him an eternal name, and transmit his Fame to future Ages. But who will lament his immature Fate, whereas the Ruine of the Re­publick is to be more deplored? What Sub­ject will sing his Encomiums, seeing he hath deceivep not only his Enemies, but his Friends too? His Fate is deplorable on both sides, seeing by his death the Garland is won, [Page 22]and the Empire is destroyed. Thou wast inflamed (O Codrus!) with too great a De­votion and Zeal for thy Country, who wast so forgetful of thy Life and Liberty, and dids't so contemn the Care of the Gods. If the former course of thy Life was just, yet now thou hast committed an heinous Crime, thus by offering violence to Nature, and exercising Tyranny over thy self, Let not Nature be thus violated!

Codrus hath lost his golden Liberty, to free his Country from filthy Bondage; hath laid down his Life to give it continuance, and to rescue it from Death; But how can it sur­vive, and live, when he is dead, who by his Valour alone did preserve and defend it, and who (whilst in Being) was both the De­light and Orna [...]ent of the People. He had more prudently consulted the Athenians good, if he had still reign'd, and if the Enemy had not kill'd the Prince, but the People, and brought them to so sad and fatal an end.

Thus liv'd this stout Heroe, who might law­fully support the sinking state, might punish the pride of his triumphant Enemies, might with his Life and Valour (seeing he could purchase Victory by his own Blood) have animated and encouraged the conquered Athe­nians, and repaied their slaughter again with [Page 23]ruine. For tis not the part of a Valiant Cap­tain to yield at the first wound, but obstinate­ly to pursue flying Victory, and with a perti­nacious resolution, solicite adverse and re­luctant Fortune; and as it were extort vio­lently from the Gods the Palm of Victo­ry.

Codrus by his signal Piety to his Country, hath through his Death purchas'd to the A­thenians Victory and Safety; But yet he had shew'd himself more wise, and valiant, if escaping but one, though unhappy battel, he at length by a more prosperous event of War, had made himself Victorious, and his Coun­try too.

DECLAM. VI. Whether Paulus Emilius did well, who, utterly desparing of the Safety of the Republick, rush't wilsully into the Battel, and caus'd his own Death.

AFter so unfortunate a management of Affairs, after so cruel a slaughter of his Souldiers, and the total overthrow of his [Page 24]whole Army. Can Aemilius (do you think) live an ignoble Life? Do you believe I can endure Hannibal flush'd with Victory, and triumphing over a routed Consul? Seeing my Souldiers are so ambitious of the glory of Va­lour, that when their Strength fails, and their hands are unprofitable, they had rather ex­pose their heads to the Conquerours weapons than decline a Fight, as if they would hinder Victory, when they cannot conquer: Seeing my Common Souldiers give so excellent a spe­cimen of Roman Courage, shall Paulus their General basely fly? Seeing my stout Cavalry protected me in the Battel, and so bravely fell in the hot dispute, shall I basely survive them, and run to Rome? And there (like Women and Children) lament the Ruine of the State which I had so illy defended? Shall I on­ly shed tears for my Countrey, whilst you faithful Souls pour out no less than your last Breath? Rather let mine Enemy slice me into a thousand peices, and spill my very heart-blood; that the Citizens may know, that I contemn Death with the same Courage, as I did formerly their unjust Reproaches, and let the Conquerour Hannibal understand, that we have yielded to him in Fortune only, but not in Valour. I fear not to be censur'd Rash and Furious, and too unadvised in my [Page 25]Actions, for what do I desire that seems so unreasonable? Seeing I cannot live without Reproach, and Envy, I only seek an honest Death.

You all know in my former Consulship, when things were better with me than now, how I scarce escap't with my Life from the Popular Tumult; And what do you think the displeased People will do in so great a Desola­tion and Slaughter of their Souldiers? But why do I mention things of so long a date? In this present Consulship the ungrateful Ci­tizens did upbraid with Sloath and Cow­ardize, though by my Care and Counsel, I diverted this Plague that hung over their heads, and rescu'd my men from the jaws of their Enemies by detecting their Treacheries. What a man have I shewed my self in this Bat­tel, who have fought illy, and (seeing I durst not die) who have fled more basely? Fancy me leading, like Cattle, the remainder (if there be any left) of my rallied Army, through unwayed Mountains, and Summer Thickets! Fancy us to fly (like Harts) and to be stun'd with the noise of our close Pursuers! Fancy us entring the City overwhelm'd with griefe, and their Sorrow to swell at our Approaches! I am not to be carried there (after the Roman manner) in a Triumphant Chariot; And [Page 26]indeed, I know not the use of such a Chariot, unless to carry me to the utmost limits and bounds of the Earth, whither the name of Hannibal, the Report of this Overthrow, and the Execrations of the City cannot reach.

Methinks I see the Patrons, and the Cli­ents mixt together, and all in Publick! Me­thinks I see the wretched Matrons running on all sides to the Hallowed Temples, and sweep the Altars with dishevel'd Tresses! We hear nothing but the Howlings and Lamentations of the Citizens; nothing but the complaints of them that weep. In vain they do now im­plore my Aid; now they curse that unhappy General. Methinks, I hear the enraged Multitude railing against me in such language; Give me my Children! Restore my Parents! Return my Souldiers, who may defend the walls! All which Clamour is an harsher sound than noise of the treacherous Carthaginians, that assanlted us in the Rear, than the groans of Souldiers beset with Enemies, than the dis­mal voice of Hannibal, whereby he pronoun­ced to his Souldiers certain Victory.

But though things are grievous, yet if they benefit my Countrey, I can bravely bear them. I could wish to live though in Disgrace and Infamy, if thereby I could any wise ad­vantage the Republick. But what profit [Page 27]can accrue to you from the single Valour of one, and he but a private person? Where else can I have another Army? With what Courage will Souldiers fight under so unhap­py a Captain? Surely they will find a more prosperous General. Why being a Coward do I live so long? unless it be to see another Consul subduing those Enemies that con­quer'd me, or to see the demolish't walls of Rome; the former will reflect upon his Name, the latter injurious to his Piety; but a glorious death will deliver from the Infamy of both.

I will follow you (O my Souldiers!) and with you will I die, and (what pleases me most) I will dye in the Battel. Neither will I perish by every obvious and feeble hand. I will break my way through the thickest ranks, and through the midst of mine Ene­mies weapons will I smite Hannibal. And (my dear Fellow-Souldiers!) I will appease your Ghosts, either with the Victors gore, or else sacrifice mine own, and so, shall I escape Con­tumelies, and Reproaches, and shall wash away mine Ignominy with mine own Blood.

DECLAM. VII. Whether Tullus Hostilius did well, who first taught the Romans the Art of War? Aff.

I Am perswaded you marvel that I being in a Gown, should take upon me the defence of Arms: But I do not personate the Souldi­er, but act the Orator; and why such won­dering at my undertaking? Seeing I am only about to defend that, which both protects me and the Republick too. 'Twas War that lay'd the Foundation of the Commonwealth, and 'twas War that raised it to such a pitch of Glory. In vain the Warlick God of Rome had in stoln Embraces begat Romulus: un­less the Youth by traduction had his Fathers Spirit. In vain had Numa taught them fa­cred Rites, and holy Cercmonies, unless Hosti­lius by his Arms had protected his Religion and sacred worship of the Immortal Deities. Jupiter himself is of no esteem without his thunder, and disarmed Apollo appears ridi­culous.

Rome the Mistres of the whole world, meer­ly flourish't by the help of Mars; and hath raised eternal Monuments and Trophies of Valour; whereas other Nations have lived ingloriosly without Arms. Not the least spark of Roman Prowess had appeared, if Hosti­lius had not instituted Martial Discipline. 'Tis true, War doth sometimes rage amongst harmless People, and those must needs be subdued, who cannot with Arms assert their Right. You would not have your Country the Scene of War, but how can you expect a Freedom from the same, when every mem­ber of the State wages an intestine War against it self? I mean the mutual conflicts of dis­agreeing Passions; and (if we believe Philo­sophy) we had not liv'd unless sprung from the Quarrels of the jarring Elements, neither can we die unless dissolved by the Discord of our first Principles.

Is Martial Discipline ingrateful to your ears? And must this Art worthy of Eternity, be utterly abolish't, without which, Domitian could not so much as kill a Fly? Perhaps you dread a Warlike Death? as if Souldiers so well acquainted with it, did not know how best to suffer it, as if they did not un­derstand what themselvers were, who behold Death daily triumphing over dead bodies; so [Page 30]that we may say (what some of Philosphy) that the Military Art is the Meditation of Death Hostilius did not institute it by Mans Advice, but by the Counsel of the Gods. For there was in the world such softness of Spirit and effeminacy of Mind, that the Art of War was given from above to prevent the de­generacy of the Masculine Sex. Jupiter him­self had had a Squob upon the earth as well as Vulcan, unless Mars and Victoria had come to assist him against the Giants. And do you not yet esteem Gradivus for a Deity? Is his a fictitious God-head, when Emperours his Adorers are esteemed Deities? Do you thus requite him? If this be the case? Away (ye Philosophers!) with your Heroical Vertue! Away with thy sacred Buckler (O Rome!) dropt from above as a proof of its Divinity! Away with the feigned Gods of the Poets! and with Jupiter himself! Let Heaven fall!

But I fear, lest, if I am too tedious, the Tribune will inflict upon me a Military Mulct. I have sounded a Retract: And if you think I have not defended Hostilius well enough (like an Orator) with my Tongue, I am ready to fight for him (like a Souldier) with my Sword.

DECLAM. VIII. Whether Horatius is guilty of Death, who killed his Sister for weeping at the sight of the Spoils he took from her Paramour? Aff.

CEase to wonder that I dare appear against and accuse Horatius, whom the Romans have acquitted; and unworthily Crowned with triumphant Laurel! Behold! the man besmeared with his Brothers blood, and be­ing not content with one Impiety, he goes on to propogate unexpiable crimes. Thou wretched Villain! Whither did thy Fury hurry thee, thus to revenge the tears of thy Sister dropt at the herse of her deceas'd Sweet-heart, thus, not to suffer her to enjoy her Lover nor to lament him neither? It had been more becoming thy self a Roman, to grieve that he happen'd to be an Enemy, and that 'twas thy misfortune to shed his Blood, and that thy respect to thy Country had so sur­passed thy Kindness to thy Family and Sister. Love and Mildness are natural to Women; [Page 32]and therefore not to be removed with Sword and Violence. Thou wast content not with the Victory obtained over the Curiatii, but thou ventest thy rage upon Female Innocence, and levels thy Malice at thine own Sister.

O Horrid Wickedness! worthy the me­mory of future ages. For who but this Ho­ratius (like a fierce Lyon from his prey) would have returned from the slaughter of his murdered Brother, and not yet glutted with Blood, would sheath his Sword in a womans Bowels? What have ye done (O Romans!) in acquitting a person both guilty of Parra­cide, and Ingratitude too? How can you en­dure that such a miscreant should live within the Consines of your Empire? Thou (O im­pious Rome!) who hast filled the World with War and Ruine, and contemnest the Deities with reproachful threats; Thou (I say) at length art justly punish't, and deservedly suf­fers the thunder of the Gods, and the Frowns of Heaven. Thy Foundation was lay'd in gore, and thy Deeds are Bloody, and thy Off­spring Vitious and debaucht. Why dost thou glory in such lewd Actions? And why dost thou not punish this Murderer amongst the most flagitious Malefactors? If we should ransack the Corners of the whole world, we shall never find an Example, that can paralel [Page 33]the Ingratitude, and the savage Barbarity of cruel Horatius; who offering his vanquisht Enemies, to his Angry, and injured Country, hath committed an heinous Fact, and hath fully'd his name with perpetual Infamy, in spilling the Blood of his Sister for a sacrifice to his Fury. Nero and Caligula those mon­strous Parricides of that age deserve not so much the names of Apes, and Vipers, as he to be branded with Eternal Ingratitude.

If (according to the saying of that noble Roman) it is more honourable to save one Citizen from death than to slay a thousand Enemies, of what horrid Villany then is he guilty, who after a signal Victory hath inhu­manly destroyed a poor woman, and toolt away the Life of one, for whom he had done well, if he had resign'd his own? What if full of Fury, he came laden with the Spoils of his conquer'd Enemy? What if his Sword was still dy'd with the tincture of their Blood, yet the Inhumanity and Brutishness of the Action deserv's no mercy? Should he travel the Universe, he would scarcely find a Patron of his wickedness.

DECLAM. IX. Horatius vindicated.

I Wonder with what face ye Romans dare condemn Horatius, who rescu'd even now from Fire and Sword not only your Republick but your Lives too, who hath snatcht them from the jaws of death, and safely preserved them. Ingrateful Rome! How he hath deser­ved so ill at thine hands, as thou shouldst thus destroy him? 'Tis a bloody Crime to kill him, to whom thou art more obliged than to thy Father Romulus; For he only drew the bare model of the City, but the other se­cured it when Populous with Inhabitants, when crowded with People, and surely 'tis better not to be, than to be a Slave.

But why is he come to this? what fault is there in him, besides his Indulgence (if that be a Crime) to his dear Sister? who was the only cause, that she should enjoy, being dead in the shades below, that Sweet-heart, whom she could not obtain alive on Earth above. But if he did it out of meer Revenge, [Page 35]then this is as commendable as the former Action, and there is more of Glory, more of Horatius in this, than there is in that; For his noble Spirit scorned that a Roman Lady, and his Kinswoman too, should with impro­per tears, and unseasonable grief so servilely lament the death of his Enemy. He would not have the very Sex to want its Praise; and so great was his Zeal and Affection to his Country, as that he would not spare his offen­ding Sister. But if none of all her Vertues, and Deserts can wipe off the guilt, or make an Atonement for this Crime; yet pardon (I beseech you) her for her Fathers sake [...] Pity and behold him with much Clemency; he will scarce survive after this great Disgrace, and thus you'l kill two Noble Romans with one blow.

But consider I pray. His provocation to the Fact extenuates the Guilt: For seeing your selves, your Fortunes, and all that you have you owe to his Valour, that unhappy Woman by her impertinent grief, seems to prefer the safety of the Enemy, before her Fathers, or her Countries welfare; and appears to be troubled at nothing else, but that the Third did not perish with the two other Brothers. Rome may shortly want another preserver, for the Albanes are a free People, never under [Page 36]Subjection, and therefore 'tis doubtful, whe­ther they'l keep their League, and endure your Government, utterly disregarding their own Liberty: And then Horatius may be as useful, as he was before; and that Army which sent back their Legions untouch't, and triumphant to Rome, may again most wonderfully defend you, and strike a terrour into all your Enemies: For without doubt where ever is this other Genius of our Com­monwealth there will be the Fates of the Al­bans. For our valiant Captain hath de­stroyed their Forces with his own hand.

But now if a Fathers Prayers and a Fathers Tears, if a Victory purchased by himself alone; If Innocence and the Danger of an ensuing War cannot wash off, and Expiate this Crime; Go on then with your rash Judg­ment! Punish with death this execellent Citizen! Condemn (if you please) stout Horatius; but consider withall your Strength is weakned, your Sinews are cut, and that Rome will fall with it's brave Captaine.

DECLAM. X. Zopyrus cunningly commanded his body to be torn, and wounded, that he might betray, by the Stratagem, the City of Ba­bilon to King Darius.
For Zopyrus.

THough it may seem unjust to lay down our Lives for the publick good, because repugnant to Nature, and inconsistent with the Cowardice of timerous men; yet there is nothing certainly more noble and glorious, than after the Vertuous course of an honest Life to resign our breath, and all for the Safe­ty of our King, and Country. Now this Zopyrus that so injur'd his body to betray the City, is as commendable as he, who falls a sacrifice for the Kindomes glory; For he did not die with Infamy and Disgrace, but lived not only to the Honour of his Country, but to the Reproach of his Enemies, and to his own credit and reputation. If the welfare [Page 38]of the Publick had requir'd his Life, he would have laid aside Mortality, and have put off his body as willingly and as readily, as he had deformed it. And thus Zopyrus devotes himself to ruine for the safety of his Country. And how much better is it to de­face the Beauty, to tear the Limbs, and to rage with Cruelty on the parts of his Body, than to melt down his Strength and exhaust his Spirits by Softness and Luxury, and so to ruinate the whole Structure.

Who more worthy than Zopyrus? Who more to be belov'd? who to adorn his Coun­try with Peace and Glory, hath represented himself an ugly Spectacle. Whosoever dis­praises him doth in effect commend the Ti­merous, and Slothful, and hints this as his Disgrace, that he had profusely spoiled the Sweetness of his Aspect, the Charms of his Face, and wasted prodigally his very Blood for his Country, and shews he had rather the Desolation of the Publick, than the Ruine and Destruction of one private Feature. He hath survived long enough, who hath liv'd to the Publick; and his dayes are not to be accoun­ted short, who is registred in the Monuments of Immortal Fame.

'Tis an unworthy Age that preferrs Beauty before Valour, and that is much displeased [Page 39]that the Country owes its Defence to Scarrs and Wounds. Behold Zopyrus grasping Victo­ry with his own hands! See the demolisht Walls! the burnt Houses, and the whole City of Babylon lying wast and raz'd! and those things that were in vain attempted by the Strength of thousands, are now effected by the Arm and Policy of one Man! Go on brave Captain with thy undaunted Valour! Despise the reproaches of malevolent tongues! And big with Renown, the Reward of thy Deserts, be thou a Monument of Valour, and an unimitable Pattern to succeeding Ages!

DECLAM. XI. Against Zopyrus.

IF Zopyrus had well weighed and considered of those exquisite pains, which he so mi­serably suffered in his tortur'd Body, certain­ly he would never have exercised such Cruel­ty on his innocent Members, and by an un­happy Stratagem, have wounded his Enemy [Page 40]through his own Bowels. He had better have killed himself outright, than thus to besmear himself infamously with Blood, and to inflict upon himself those dolorous Torments, which make him weary of his life, and to co­vet death.

Though he was so sturdy as a little to en­dure the sharp pennance of his slashed limbs, yet he unwillingly suffered that ugly Defor­mity, which made him horrible to others, and a wretched Spectacle to his own self. The squallid Complexion of his crimson Face was so far from pleasing, that it terrifi'd Da­rius; and if he affrighted the King, for whose Glory and Honor he endur'd the Pennance, how much more lothsom was he to others, who may justly doubt whether he be a man or Fury? For the loss of his Lips, Nose, and Ears make him rather resemble the Picture of a Monster, than the Shape of a man; For his cheeks are besmeared with a ghastly die, his eyes are glutted with the Streams of his own Blood; and he that should triumph and boast in shedding his Enemies, by an unhap­py Error, spills, and wallows in his own gore.

But now he deservedly feels the smart of those Punishments he inflicted upon himself; he affects not the sweetness of refreshing [Page 41]odours: but is sad and melancholy amidst the scents and breath of perfumed Roses; his ears are stopt, and hears not the voice of charming Eloquence; his mouth is crammed, and utters no Oratory, but remains silent; so that eve­ry one doth injure, and affront Zopyrus, and vex his sores with new wounds.

Thy Case is sad Zopyrus! what is there that can delight thee in the whole world? All men hate thee, and all fear thee: wherefore think thy self scorned and odious, and see (if thou hast got any eyes) thy maimed Limbs, and lament the Defects of thy crippled Body: But this is thy only comfort, thy necessity (accor­ding to thy deserts) of suffering these things. But now, if the want of these Members make him so dreadful a Spectacle in the sight of others, how frightful and cruel must he seem to his own self! For who would lick his own Blood? who but a mad man, would with voluntary stripes chastise himself? In this he appears more bloody than a Butcher, who, though he slays the beast, yet spares him­self; But he after he had wreak'd his Spight, and rage on his Enemies, he executes his Ty­ranny upon his own self, and that not so much out of a Concern or Affection for the Publick, as to discover his Cruelty and Madness, for which he is rather to be punisht [Page 42]than commended. And what reason is there, why he should not suffer, unless be­cause he cannot endure enough? For his members already have been so forely handled, that no cuts, and slashes, no pungency can be added to his former dolors; unless all his Pains be wholly swallowed up by the sting of death; wherefore without doubt, he had never committed so heinous a Fact, unless encouraged by the hope of a prosperous For­tune. But we do not see that Darius ad­vanc't him; and indeed neither did he de­serve Promotion; for he might have shewed his Zeal and his Courage for his King and his Country many other ways, and those more proper for, or becoming a man. But that which increases the Absurdity of the Action was, he stain'd his hands in needless Blood, which neither the time nor necessity did require of him; for neither thy Coun­try nor thy self (Zopyrus!) were in any danger; and Darius, without thine as­sistance, could have either contemn'd Babylon, or else have conquered it. What if the Ci­ty had been overcome? What if thy Persia had been laid wast? Thou couldst not have died more miserably, than thou didst now; For thou hast so hackt and hew'd thy manlike Face, and so basely spoiled thy hand­some [Page 43]Limbs, that I question whether the Ene­my could have mangled thee more. To con­clude, I prethee (Zopyrus!) be sensible, by thy loss, of thy great Folly, and wish for (though too late) and prefer thy Safety be­fore a Victory.

DECLAM. XII. Brutus perceiving that his Sons endea­vour'd the Restauration of Kings among the Romans, drag'd them in­to the Forum, and before the whole Assembly caus'd them to be scourged with Rods, and afterwards cut off their Heads.
For Brutus.

SEeing the first Age of Rome was so mise­rably spent under the cruel Tyranny of seven Kings, and because the City in its In­fancy was so opprest as to be ready to expire [Page 44]in its very Cradle, I'le be hang'd, if ever the Romans are Lords of the Earth, or if the City be ever Empress of the whole World, I dare warrant that the Scepter shall never any more be sway'd by Tyrants, and that extin­guisht Monarchy shall never be reviv'd, so as to involve us again in another Bondage. The people of Rome have found by Experience that Kings are not only proud by Name, but by Nature too; and that they have infring'd the Liberties, and Priviledges of the Publick; and that though they were valiant, yet they did not so much protect by their Courage as destroy their Subjects. I cannot relate without Dread and Horror, how often Tarquin hath drawn his Sword against the City, how often he hath more rag'd in Peace, than in times of Warr, that he might see the gaspings, and distorted looks of dying men; that he might hear the sighs and groans, and the sad com­plaints of the miserable.

Whosoever wishes a new Succession to this last of Kings, he is worthy to suffer all manner of Thraldom, he is sit to be the first Instance of his Cruelty; and let him endure a Tyrant in his very Father. If such Princes as these are fit to rule, let your old distemper return again; if you delight in new Fury, and in a fresh disease, then let Kings be restored [Page 45]again. But if a Consular Government ex­cel a Kingly, which doth not only punish the Murderers of the Citizens, but takes care for, and defends the Liberty of the City, then let Monarchy die with Tarquin; and let not one Tyrant rule with a milder Government, but let more Nobles consult and act for the good of the Publick: let them defend the Ci­ty as well from Domestick Confusions, as Forreign Invasions; and seeingboth the Con­suls have Power and Command over one City, and that but a little one, let them con­quer the Nations over which they preside; let them make their Enemies and Captives be­come their Citizens, and all the Provinces of Italy to become Roman.

A single Monarch being hardly enough for one Scepter never by Conquest enlarg'd his Dominions, but suspecting the Fidelity of his People, he is wont to rule in Poverty, and Want, by reason of his oppression, whereby he uses to defend his Territories; and he weakens his Subjects to prevent their revenge. Various Slaughters suffered not Rome to grow to the state of Manhood; nor was it safe for the Kings that the Romans should wax old, lest any by their Deserts should aim at the Kingdom; so that Punishments and Tor­ments were inflicted to suppress the growth [Page 46]of flourishing Vertue. Thus the People un­der a Roman King obeyed a Tyrant: no man lived securely, but whosoever was suspected, though harmless, was condemn'd to death, and whosoever lamented the Innocent, was punisht as Guilty.

But now the Consuls emulating each others Vertue, make Laws for themselves, as well as for the People; and defend with their own the Roman Liberty. One can't so much oppress, but the other is as ready to redress their Grievance: neither can they vex the Republick with private Animosity; but they must turn their Fury upon their own selves. And thus the haughty Lyon affrights with a noise the common Herd, and preys only upon little Flocks, but when he hath in view ano­ther Lion, he is struck dumb, and silent; and they both disdain the neglected Cattle, but both emulous and jealous of each others Honour, and neither brooking the equality of a Rival, do engage mutually, and terrifie no more the despised droves, but exert their Fury upon, and seek to devour their own selves.

If this Consular Government please the Senate, then these Roman Youths may not by Force subvert it without Punish­ment. They seem to undermine the City, [Page 47]to affect the Kingdom, and to revoke themselves instead of Kings. These Youn­kers certainly aspire too high, who take up arms against the Fathers, Consuls, and established Laws of Rome. Professed Ene­mies, that dare do any thing, never strike at the Form of Government. Every Nation may (as it pleaseth) Dispose of its people and may restrain them by what ties it listeth; and Cities at Emnity do not give Laws to them­selves, nor do they foment civil Broils among their Citizens or embroil their Citizens in ci­vil wats.

Seeing therefore the Government of the Consuls is either to be establisht by the death of the Conspirators, or to be abrogated for the future by a free Remission, the most just Brutus did justly condemn his Sons for the Liberties of his Countrey, and for the Pri­viledges of Rome; And that he might not survive a childless Parent, he the Assertor and Father of the Laws hath translated into his own Family, and hath adopted the Citizens in the room of his Sons.

DECLAM. XIII.
Against Brutus.

AFter the Foundation of the Empire lay'd in Blood, and such a continual succes­sion of horrid Cruelty (as if it was just, that as Rome in her Infancy consecrated her future Grandeur by so a Barbarous a Crime, so she should defend her Safety by repeated Slaugh­ters, and Patricidial Murders maintaining thereby the limits of her Power) I say, after the frequent Violations of the Laws of Nature, and the exile and banishment of proscribed Humanity, or Prescription of exiled and dis­carded Humanity; 'Tis no wonder that Brutus should exert his rage on his own flesh, and more Cruel than Indians (who only de­vour their dead Friends) should wreak his Fury upon his own Bowells. He slays his own sons, those dear Pledges of himself, because he would not favour the private ties of Affinity: But let him satisfie his Fury so sa­vagely, and that he may be a safe-guard to Rome, let him be fierce and inhumane.

Cease (ye Romans) by the help of the Gods to reduce and subdue forreign Nations, see­ing Rome by her shedding blood, and by her flagitious Crimes, hath given a specimen of her future Impiety; and Brutus the Assertor, and Patron of Rome, having left his Enemies, prosecutes with Hatred his own Sons, and triumphing at home in a bloody Victory, is become a Conquerour within his own house. Let not the Deities hope any more for their wonted Flames, nor for the solemn Pomp of former Victims, seeing Brutus spared not his very Houshold Gods; whilst he equally for­gets both his Piety, and his Sons; by the death of his off-spring he shews himself to be but a cruel Parent, by whose blood he hath purchased an ill gotten Liberty— After such great Specimens of an ambitious Spirit, and Crimes successfully committed against the Re­publick, he now attempts a greater wicked­ness, and that such an one, which cannot be expiated by any Sacrifice. For having got the Empire, and by the death of the Kings, having obtained his desire, he does now be­ging to wanton in Cruelty, and being backt with Power, doth more violently rage. His Sons, that resist his growing Tyranny, he pro­secutes with a cruel affection and strikes them through with darts of Love, and (like a [Page 50]swelling deluge checkt by violence) he in­vades them presently with a double force, and lets them fall as victims, for the defence, and safeguard of the new Empire.

Most unhappy Young Men! whose Valour alone hath made them miserable! who have done nothing worthy of death, unless it be Capital, to resist the unjust Pride of their Fa­ther, and to defend Rome from the Treache­ries of Brutus. Things are come now to that pass, that there is need both of the Pious and Valiant to restore the Republick; For what could they do else? if they had not of­fended against Brutus, they had sinned (which had been worse) against the Gods and Coun­trey too. A crime is to be chosen, about which they did not long deliberate. The vai­ner name of a Father could not affright them, nor the reverence of a Parent deter them; For let him be no longer a Father of Children, if he will be no more a Parent of his Countrey. The Young Men had a natural Veneration for Majesty, and therefore respect and honor the Kings, and defend their Prerogatives to their last breath.

The City was so oppress'd with Cruelty, and so bloody with the slaughter of murdered Citizens, that the Gods themselves could hard­ly releive it without exposing themselves to [Page 51]death and danger. But Brutus hastens to his Sons with the greatest Zeal, and at once doth use both Prayers and Threats, he sooths them up with winning Insinuations, he accosts them with language as soft as deceitful. He ob­jects unto them the Honour, Glory, and Al­lurements of Empire, the great Pleasure, and Priviledge of Governing: But our Young Men oppose, and embrace not this wheedling Courtship, whose Fidelity is not to be shaken, either by Price or Pleasure, no not by death it self, and therefore the cruel Father advances himself to the highest pitch of Fury and Im­piety, and by the dismal Tragedy of his Sons, sacrifices to the Liberty of his Country; that those whom he could not provoke by his Am­bition and Tyranny, he might at least over­come by Death and Envy: Thus whilst he hath beheaded his Sons, and endeavors to spill his own blood, he doth not only lose the Reputation of being Humane, but buries his name in silence and oblivion. He deprives himself of the comfort of Posterity, and of that Immortality which is for ever propaga­ted by a dear off-spring.

DECLAM. XIV. When a certain City was daily harass'd by continual War, the Citizens at length decreed among themselves to demolish the golden Statue of the Em­perour, to coin money for their sub­port, and maintenance.
For the Citizens.

IF you know not the greatness of Imperial Majesty, and how much to be defended by the Lives and Estates of Loyal Subjects; I say, if you do not any otherwise understand it, yet from hence you may learn, namely, that the Glory of the whole Empire depends upon the Safety of the Emperour, and as of­ten as War shall require, Subjects (like Bulls to Jove) must fall victims to their Prince: Then certainly tis no such great matter to ex­pend a little Gold (otherwise unprofitable unless in War) for the Honor of the King, for the defence of the City, Palace, nay of [Page 53]Majestie too. Nothing could be thought on more noble and more redounding to the Ho­nour of the Emperour, or give a greater Proof of a Deitie, than that Golden Statue pull'd down and demolisht in the defence of the Ci­ty. If the Imperial Image could so protect the weak Citizens, and (by I know not what Charm) shews that it can effect some­what that is August and Magnificent, if the Royal Essigies could assright Enemies, could stretch out its Fatall Arms, and kill those with the Cruelty of a Look, whom it can­not wound with its extended hands, I say, if the meer Figure could do this, what shall we think then of the real person, whose Statue could drive away his approaching Enemies? Let it therefore be domolisht, and by its fall, let it prove that there is nothing belongs to an Emperour, but what is Divine.

We read that the Statue of Scipio did pro­tect the Italians from the Carthaginians; and that his Reliques and Ashes were as useful to Rome, as the living General. We know that an Enchantress can wound a man meer­ly by waxen Images; and at once can hurt the Original and the Copy too; can strike the Image, and hit by Sympathy the Man too; so that, tis not so great a matter for the Im­perial Statue to effect these things, seeing [Page 54]waxen Puppets have something of Life in them, and become Arbiters of Life and Death. Behold the misery of the poor City! Contemplate the sad Looks, hollow Cheeks, the paleness of the Inhabitants at the thoughts, either of present Danger, or fear­ful expectation of future Death! Both the Subjects and the Statue are all like to perish, and like to be involv'd in the same ruine. But is it not best to preserve them to secure the Citizens, the walls of the Emperour, and lastly, to protect the Emperour himself, and all by the destruction of one Statue? For 'tis easie after a Conquest, to erect, and raise new Images, and new Statues, and those greater; and with the Relicks of this gold, after Fights and Overthrows, to make an ab­solute Image and consecrate it to Caesar.

Let the golden Statue and the sacred Image be quite defac'd, that it may be restored and raised more August and Divine: we do not envy the Emperour that piece of Divinity, as to be absent, unarmed, invisible, and yet by this Art to be present at his Battels, to stir up the feeble Citizens, whereby he shews him­self not so much to be an Emperour, as a God.

Though 'tis an heinous crime to violate any thing, that (for their noble exploits) is [Page 55]consecrated and devoted to the memory of our Ancestors, yet seeing neither the Peace of Countries can be enjoyed without Arms, nor Arms be procured without Pay, it may not seem a wonder, if we endeavour by our honest Ingenuity, to free our selves from for­reign Invasion, and restore our selves to our fotmer Liberty, and ancient Glory. Inge­nuous Spirits are ashamed to be put under, and to submit their neeks to the Tyranny of a Yoke, and to become Tributaries to those whom we have freed from ruine and the jaws of Death; therefore we thought it good, rewards adding Courage to Souldiers to scrape off the gold from the Imperial Statues, and to coin it into money, and that not to defend our selves only, but the Gods too: For we were reduced to that extremity, that unless we had laid out our money and care for the Safety of the Countrey, we had certainly perished and been destroyed by them; The Temples had been rob'd of their Gods, and the Deities been depriv'd of their Temples too; they had condemn'd us to hard and miserable Bondage, and that which went nearest to us, they would have shackled our Hands with unwonted chains. But by this our Trick, we have prevented our Enemies from sacking Rome, and have triumpht over [Page 56]those who would have conquered us, and that which makes us more Noble and Happy, we have not flincht from our first Enterprise, but have stoutly resisted their fierce On-sets, and have subdued our cruel Enemies, and that with our Ancient, and truly Roman Valour; and have put their necks impatient of Bon­dage under our yoke, and (the Gods favou­ring our Cause) we have wholly routed them, and reduc'd them.

Behold our Enemies enrag'd with grief, do liment and howl at their miserable Fate! and curse our Valour, and good Fortune too! Behold on the contrary us walking in State and Pomp! we are received with pub­lick acclamations, and the Gods have con­gratulated our fresh Victory, and thank us, for preserving them untoucht and safe! with what Solemnity will our Triumph be cele­brated in Pompey's Theater? with what joy and shoutings are Trophies erected in Ho­nor of our Victory? with what care is the Gold and Silver restored to their respective Statues? and the People of Rome are so far from derogating from, or eclipsing their Splendor, that they take care to preserve them and to adorn and gild them with grea­ter Curiosity.

Rome being secure from and having lost its [Page 57]Rivals, and the Gods being free from all Fear, let us not withdraw from Tumults, and be­take our selves to ease and quiet! Let the City enjoy her former Beauty, and Mag­nificence; and let the Roman People display their wonted Glory! Let the Souldiers boast of their wounds and scars, and let them esteem them their most honourable Badges, and Or­naments of their Bodies.

DECLAM XV. Against the Citizens.

REligion is preserved inviolable among all Nations, and there is no Villany so extreme, no Impiety so cruel, as to allow of, and favour horrid Sacriledge. A very Ene­my himself (though never so much incens'd) would scarce suffer the sacred Temples, and the Monuments of our Ancestors to be pro­phaned and spoiled. But (ye Romans!) ye have laid aside all Conscience and Religion in so basely demolishing the Representative of the Emperour, which you ought to have pro­tected [Page 58]with all your Strength, and with as great care as the Prince himself. Besides there was no need of committing so great a Crime, for the Desolations of War threatning Poverty, and the grim Aspect of approaching Death, ought to have animated them and in­creased their Courage in the Defence of their Liberty and Country, and of their own safety, and of their Princes too.

O most earthly and sordid Souls! who breaking the Laws, and contemning and de­spising both Gods and Men, have thus villa­nously prophaned most sacred Majesty (little less to be adored than a Deity it self) so that the Gods are unsafe, and Jove justly fears, lest you vile Miscreants (like Dyonisius the Tyrant) should presume to pull his golden Beard. If you could no otherwise have defeated your Enemies Army, you had bet­ter have embrac'd an honest Death, than to endure a Life so scandalous, and stain'd with so horrid a Crime; it had been better to have been opprest with Poverty and Bondage, than so ignominiously to live; and to purchase your Liberty at the price of your Innocency. What sacrifice can atone for this fact? Ye have (O ye Romans!) by throwing down the Monu­ment of the Emperour, made an attempt on his sacred Person, and so are guilty of High-Treason.

We do too much indulge the Parricides in suffering them to be openly and publickly de­fended, whom the Gods would have punishe and slain too; For the appeasing of whose Anger the whole Religion of the City can scarce suffice: Because if we rightly consider their Losses, we shall find somewhat which be­sides War, and a Siege, we ought to deplore; somewhat that is sad and Tragical, which can­not at all be ascribed to an Enemy; For behold here are Citizens, who have added this im­pious Cruelty to all our miseries, that we seem meerly to be supported by the Benefit of our Sacriledge, and midst the Terrours and Hard­ships of War and Hunger, to dare to abuse the Emperour, i. e. to prophane, violate, and contemn the Gods themselves. If an Ene­my had done this we had hop'd for a Victime, and would have made them by their Fall to have expiated and aton'd for their Guilt. But now with what Hope? with the As­sistance of what Deity can we take up Arms? for we have lost our Courage, because our In­nocence, and (which is more) our Empe­rour too. Our Enemies rejoice, and begin their Triumph from our Crimes. The wicked Citizens boast as if they had defeated Hunger and their Enemies by their horrid Sacriledge; and indeed so they have; for the Heinous­ness [Page 60]of the Fact had scar'd them with i [...] Horrour, and put them to Flight, unles [...] its Blackness had recalled them and move [...] them to Revenge, and so made them wit [...] a double Fury fall upon the Sacrilegious and exert their Rage upon them. If de­spair should make us Conquer, yet we should blush to enter the City, and be ashamed to visit those sacred Temples, whose Holiness, we have polluted with our unhallowed hands.

Behold how these Pious Inhabitants have preserved their unhappy City! They have go [...] their sustenance by Sacriledge, by which we are fed for sacrifice, though a whole City is not Victim enough for such a Guilt, where the Gods, the Emperour, nay our Enemies are to be aton'd, and satisfied. We do not complain of trivial matters; nor are we con­tent with a single Grief; but we lament the Condition of the whole City, which these Villanous Parricides have distracted, wasted, and spoiled in the Emperour: For after they had defiled themselves with this black Crime, they propagated the Contagi­on to the Vulgar, that every one might bear the proper Guilt of his own Sacriledge: It grieves us to think how with a ravenous mouth we devoured the dismal Gates, and [Page 61]how greedily we swallowed even the horrid [...]mpiety. We ow to the Citizens that we [...]ive, that we can courageously behold the hor­ror of the Fact, and so great an Instance of Cruelty. You thank them for restoring your decay'd Strength, for arming you with your Emperour, and making that a Prey to the Enemy, which they themselves ador'd whilst in the Temple. They have spoiled the tute­lar Deity, more venerable than Hunger; they have spoil'd the Emperour, more August than the Image. They have spoil'd that, which standing, we might have liv'd innocently, even in the ruine of the City. If a Con­querour had entred, we might have been se­cure; For the sacred Majesty of such a Statue would either have extorted Religion from them, or if they have none, 'twill teach them some. But our Grief hath overcome our Hopes, and we have defil'd our miseries, and (which is the last that belongs to the mise­rable) we have lost Pity.

DECLAM. XVI. Manlius Torquatus to maintain the Discipline of his Camp, killed his own Son.
For Manlius.

I Am not Ignorant with what Prejudice I stand here before you in the behalf of Man­lius; For I fear that these sad, and harsh Com­mands will be very ungrateful to your tender ears, which yet are wholsome for my Son, who either by Fate, or through Shame of declining Battel, was driven into the body of his thickest Enemies, and (as it happen'd) prov'd Victor: But he, whom no Law or Edict either of Father or Consul could keep from rashly breaking his rank and order, is to be restrained by the Sword. Let not Martial Discipline be corrupted by one ill Example lest the whole Army suffer through Default of one.

Our Manlius aim'd at something to be done, more August and Glorious than the soft Effe­minacies [Page 63]of fond Parents; His Passion was more strong and severe than to defend and patronize his Bowels, his Off-spring in so great a Wickedness. 'Tis Inhuman and horrid to hate his Issue, but yet to spare such a Son is worse than Hatred: the Law and Republick can't be so satisfied; Let the Son suffer for his rashness, rather than the Com­mon-wealth rue for the wicked Indulgence of his Father. What People did ever more religiously preserve Martial Discipline than the Romans? To whom warfare was far more ancient than Parents or Children; whose well order'd Troops have advanc't them from nothing to the Dominion of the whole world; neither can the Roman Glory be Eclipsed, nor the wide Empire of the Victorious, Shrink or Decay, unless this strong tye, or Union of distant Colonies be dissolv'd by Effeminacy, Lust or Luxury; whilst with a well disciplin'd Army (like a well fortified City) they did repel the On-set of their invading Enemies, they always returned with Triumphant Ea­gles; But whilst the Son of Manlius, breaking his ranks, obtains the Victory, he departs only not conquered.

You have here (most equal Judges) Manlius acting the part, not so much of a stout and valiant General, as of a solicitous, and careful [Page 64]Parent, nor more commendable for his Justice than his singular Clemency, who even consulted the good of the Republick though 'twas to his own damage. He thought it far better to be the Lord of the Country, than to be called the Fa­ther of so stubborn a Son; neither did he study only the good of his Country, but of himself too; and whilst he punisht his Son with death for declining the Commands of his Father, he preferr'd an honest Reputation before an in­famous Off-spring; and seeing he could not beget an Heir equal to his Parent, he would have none survive that is unlike so great a Captain.

But Torquatus lives still, and as long as Mar­tial Discipline, and Laws of Camps do flou­rish, Manlius the Patron of Arms will survive and never fall or decline, but with the very Standards: seeing he smote with the Ax his only Son, he hath vindicated his name from devouring obscurity. Thus he hath prolonged his Life by dying, and surviving himself, hath 'een by mortality made himself Immortal; And so aged Valour withstanding the Teeth of Time and Rottenness, hath transmitted him to Posterity without an Heir.

DECLAM. XVII. Whether it is lawful to use Persian Pomp in the midst of War? Aff.

VVHy should I doubt, I know no reason but that only seems unlawful ( Per­sian-like) to grow rich. We adore a Penu­rious and a hard Fortune, and lament the loss of a golden Age, not so much because we are Vicious, as because we are Beggars; yea our minds are so impoverisht (necessity causes such a degeneracy) that we cannot conceive the Splendor of the Persian Equipage. It becomes the Lords of the Earth thus richly to fight; That Magnisicence is honest, and those Ornaments glorious, which are only the rewards of Sweat and Valour. Persicus describ'd with his Sword the whole Universe, and commenc'd Geographer by his own Victo­ries; he understood Bactria from a Cloak, and the Sogdiani from an Helmet; his Steed hath been laden with Spoils of several Nations, and why then should he not proudly prance, who hath dar'd to fight for his Harness, and Trap­pings, [Page 66]and who will level the Mountains, and lay flat with the ground his Enemies too, that he might vex his crest with their weigh­ty Jewels?

That Pomp doth justly excuse Pride, and is neither vain, nor ridiculous, which is the reward of ancient Valour, and is a spur to new. Those who are afraid of Ghosts and Goblins, who can't undauntedly contemn the Fates, nor dare provoke death: Let them combate in squallid weeds, and mournful dress: But those that are of an approv'd Va­lour, and who draw Fortune after them bound in chains, to whom tis the same to war and triumph, why is it not lawful for them to breath perfumes, to shine with Oils and Bal­somes, and to enjoy the Testivity of a crown­ed brow, and to use in War all the Pompous Luxury that attends a Victory?

Let the rude vulgar contemn that which is noble and gallant, as if Robes of Kings and Triumphal Garments must declare the Mind to be Proud and Soft: we have often seen Vertue (I know not by what unhappiness) half clad in tattered weeds, and scarcely co­ver'd without a Figure: But as if vile rai­ment were a Vertue it self, it will be a Re­proach to the deserving to be richly attir'd; neither is he thought worthy of Praise, who [Page 67]dies for his Countrey, if he sacrifice himself with well ordered Hair, and if by chance an importunate Hero should with a trim aspect put to flight his Enemies, the austere Laws would condemn him as though still drunk with Victory. When Rome was reduc't to so great extremity as wholly to despair of its sinking Empire, when the Sinews of War began to crack, and the Strength of the Re­publick began to languish, and Roman Va­lour could atchieve no more, the Senators did not take Sanctuary in Forts and Garrisons, nor did fly to Arms, but adorn'd themselves with their Robes and Purple; whose Senato­rian Pomp representing the Sages as so many Gods, did strike such a reverence into the amazed Enemy, that ceasing to resist, and aw'd with the Religion of the solemn Specta­cle they began to fear, retreat, and worship. What need we care? If adverse Fortune be­fals us, we shall die in the same gallantry, wherein we fought, and to the Angry Deities fall crown'd sacrifices: But if our success be prosperous, that will give credit and reputa­tion, and recommend the Honesty, Vertue of our Magnificence, and will vindicate the lawfulness of our censured Glory.

DECLAM. XVIII. Whether Philostratus did well, who, to make Death Familiar, lived in a Tomb seven years?
Against Philostratus.

WHen I contemplate nothing but the noi­some ruines of dead Men, and am con­versant only amongst Vaults and Sepulchers, I seem already sentenced, and adjudged to death, having no other company in my squa­lid solitute, but the Society of Monuments and learned Marbles. I am encompassed on every side with gaping Tombs, but they are not vocal; for amongst the Histories and Epitaphs of famous Heroes, you will find a silence as deep, as the dismal Cell wherein they are cloistered. Here you may see the Urn of a Commander adorned with Poetry, and Lawrel too; but as speechless as the heaps of his Enemies over which he tri­umphed; There you may read inscriptions [Page 69]as durable as the stone on which they are writ­ten, and which are sacred to the memory of a voluble Orator, whose mouth now is fuller of dust, than tis of Eloquence; and he that even now was begirt with a ring of living Ad­mirers, now stands surrounded with the dumb Attendance of breathless Images.

It is reported that the Statue of Memnon, sa­luted by the raies of the rising Sun, became vo­cal, as if the dead Image was Ambitious to pro­claim the approach of so great a Deity, and as if that Musical God that found out Har­mony, had been the Author, and Inventor of sounds too. But we need not the Influ­ence of a propitious Heaven, here you may behold a Monument never saluted or seen by the Sun, and within it a Philosopher (like a certain Oracle) uttering speeches darker than the Cavern wherein he lies: For our Phi­lostratus inhabits at once both his Study and Sepulcher too: He reads melancholy volumes that treat of death, and meditates of certain I know not what trivial notions, and invokes the Fiend with as fervent Zeal, as the war­mer Poet his beloved Muse. But oh! Phi­lostratus! we have heard some times that the Muses can inspire, but never knew before that death could dictate. Away with those solemn thoughts about your latter end! Fly [Page 70]swifter than Fate from the Putrid rumes of filthy Carcases, and keep thy self as safe from these as thou wouldst from Death! For within the narrow confinement of this sordid Cave, there is nothing lives, besides thee and worms: The Air is infected with Stench and Rottenness, and the place is infested with nought but Horror; with the defor­med Shapes of Ghosts and Goblins.

'Tis true, we read of the Vestal Virgins, that being once deflowr'd they were interred alive, and were condemned to the perpetual darkness of a dismal Den; and so extin­guisht at once both the Flame of their Life and Lamp too. But if thou (Philostratus!) liest hid any longer in the Cloisters of thy Tomb, we will suppose thee as criminal as the Guilty Nuns, and think the Austerity of thy Life to be not so much thy choice, as thy Pennance. What Pleasure lies hid in the obscurity of a charnel House? Wanton Lovers affect the night, that they may act in darkness; But behold! all things are un­fit for lascivious Embraces, all as cold as the Marble under which they lie; no kisses to be gathered, but from mouldred Lips, or from the Fragments that are left by glutted Worms.

Behold thy Companions in thy gloomy [Page 71]Cave! Here are the Legs, and Armes; the Ribs and Thighs of thy scattered Ancestors, as void of Life as they are of Flesh; There lies a Head, which rob'd of its Beauty and Brains too, is a lively Image of that death thou adorest; behold the sockets of their ex­tinguisht eyes! See the ruines of a nibled nose, as if devouring Venus had been preying up­on the dead, as well as the riots, and feasts on the living.

What heinous crime hast thou committed, that thou alone thouldst live amidst the cor­ruption of rotten Carcases; and inflict upon thy self that Punishment, which the greatest Tyrants do on their worst Enemies i. e. join thy self alive to dead Bodies? But thou (O Nero!) in the mean time deservest Prai­ses, as great as the Universe, which thou ru­lest, who after a cowardly and ingrateful Re­volt of thy Souldiers, and their Reproaches, more intolerable than their Crime, didst deny to go quick into the Earth, and wast content to rest under a little spot, who hadst the pos­session of the whole globe: It becomes thee who hast subdued the world under thy Feet, to die standing, and thou, who didst contemn in thy looks and language the Bowels of thy dear Agrippina, wouldst easily despise the viler Entrails of thy common Mother.

'Tis the Part of a Valiant, and Heroick Spirit, even against Fate it self, to level at those, who sit triumphantly, out of the reach of darts, in the Victorious Chariot, and to fear no more deaths blunter darts, than the keener steel of their Enemies. Vain are the Terrours of that petulant Fate, which in this only differs from a smooth Chameleon, that the latter is supported by the Attraction of Air, the former by the surreption of ano­thers breath: There is no reason therefore, (Philostratus!) to spend seven years in a Tomb, the better to overcome a momentary death. The Destinies are Sisters, and weak in Sex, and infirm too; and their Instruments are softer, than the wool they spin; what! does a Distaff, a Thread, and Scissars affright thee? These are the Toies, not of Men, but Women; and are as harmless, as the soft smooth Fingers, by which they are managed, Phisitians tell us, that decayed Nature is re­paired again in the space of seven years, and that men are oftner clad with new Flesh, than new Garments; which if it be true, we be­lieve thou livedst (Philostratus!) not that thou mightst die, but that thou mightst re­trieve thy Youth, and that the whole bulk of thy Body (like the Hairs and Nails of other men) might be revived, and flourish with [Page 73]new Life. But beware, lest whilst thou lurk­est in this gloomy shade, the Fates should think thee already dead, and so shouldst lose the expected approach of the desired Destinies, because already buried.

Seeing therefore, Thou hast such an earnest desire to know death, leave this dormitory, and betake thy self to Mars's Field; and there thou maist see the Souldiers brandishing a Sword and Death in the same hand, which as swift as arrows, peirces the breast of stout Champions, and purpled with gore, Victoriously triumphs over prostrate Cap­tives! Think and meditate on divine Bru­tus, who with a careless Gallantry discour­sed with Spectres, as with his familiar Friends. But if these Martial Camps, more dread­ful with Horrour, than Throngs of Men, do not please thee; F! to the mournful, yet lascivious tents of Venus, and there behold Virgins (like Basilisks) kill with the artil­lery of their Looks, shooting from their eyes glances keener than the shafts of their Ene­mies; For a deep furrow of a contracted Brow strikes a greater Terrour than thy Se­pulcher, and one tirannical Aversion of a disdainful Eye, scatters Darkness as blind as the God of Love. There you may hear fruit­less groans equalling the Torments of a neg­lected [Page 74]Passion; and such blustering sighs, as if they would blow out those Flames, which they so violently fan; There you may see tears flow from a disconsolate Lover in such a de­luge, as if they would extinguish those fires, which first caused them. Behold the Heart and Entrails so scrocht and burnt, that you would think their Breasts not so much the Fence or Guard, as the Urn of their Bowels.

In these places, that Fate, which thou so desirest, thou maist with the same labour both seek, and enjoy, and (like buried Lamps) maist find in the open air that death, which thou couldst not obtain in thy closer grave. This we think (Philostratus!) to be a Prodigy greater than thy Life, that whereas the names of others do still survive because they are in Tombs, thine lives because thou wast a Sepul­cher; and that Immortality, which others acquire by courting Fame, thou hast puchas't by desiring death.

DECLAM. XIX. Whether Cimon did well, who for the more sumptuous Interment of his Fa­ther sold both his Liberty and Him­self too.

'TWas wisely ordained by our Ancestors, that as men, whilst alive, should be ho­noured with the Tribute of observance and respect, so when dead, should be attended with the Ceremonies of a decent Funeral. Cer­tainly a very commendable, and a most hu­man Custom, whereby Men excel other Ani­mals, who know no other Rites of Burial, than the Solemnity of being devour'd by other Beasts, and who have no other Tombs, than the living Sepulchers of their Fellow Creatures. But Humane Nature abhors the Brutishness of such Obsequies; for a savage Conquerour seeing the field bestrewed with arms and scattered limbs, bedews his garland and sheds tears at the thoughts of his bloody Victory, and indulges his Enemies the civil pomp of an handsome Interment. Death [Page 76]puts a period to the most barbarous Cruelty, which never raves beyond the Fatal Stroke. Caesar wept at the Herse and pitied the Fate of slain Pompey, whom when alive he perse­cuted with the greatest Fury, and with all the Methods and Arts of Ruine.

How unhumane is that Countrey, which suffers even Strangers to lie unburied! How much more therefore ought we to Honour with a Sepulcher a Citizen a Kinsman! But how great an impiety to leave a Parent expos'd to the open air! He is unworthy of his own life, that celebrates not with cost his Fathers death: Can a Son be excessive in kindness so to his Parent? for whom not only his Wealth and Liberty, but let him expend his very Life too. He can give nothing to him, but what he de­rived from him. Is he only obliged to re­verence his Parents, whilst alive? Must he contemn and spurn at them, when dead? whom Death among the Antients did seem to consecrate, and whose Monuments were had in great Veneration. This our Heir therefore, whose Breast was inflamed with a Pious Ar­dor towards his Father, will not have him lie without a Sepulcher, and scorns that he should have no other Grave but a Prison, and there­fore for the Magnificence of his Funeral, he sells his Liberty and himself too.

We have here a rare Example of unusual Piety, and of a Filial Care! Cimon shew'd himself a loving Son to his Father, when alive, and a Pious one, when he was dead. He imposed voluntarily on himself the Yoke of Slavery, that his Father might have a Monu­ment; and lost his Freedome, that he might enjoy the Priviledge of the dead: He thought with himself, if his Father should want a Se­pulcher, his name would quickly find one, and the Glory thereof be soon buried in Oblivion. Degenerous Posterity would lose the Exam­ple of so exellent Vertue, unless his Memory was committed to the faithful Custody of Eternal Marble, upon which his noble Exploits being engraven, would give duration to him­self and to his Tomb too. He consulted both his own Fame and the Honour of his Father, who adorn'd his Herse with such Solemnity. What renown hath he purchased, who by his own Liberty hath set free his im­prisoned Father, and that he should not want a guilded Tomb, He himself was the price of the noble Sepulcher.

DECLAM. XX. Cardan a Philosopher, and an Astrolo­ger, having foretold the day of his Death, to fulfil his Prediction, and to save his credit, he starved himself with Hunger.

UNhappy Cardan! whose Reputation is either hazarded, or his Life exposed to Danger! The greatness of thy Spirit cannot brook the want of the one, nor humane Na­ture endure the loss of the other. But oh the Vanity of that Name, which Wickedness and Impiety do alone perpetuate, and whose everlasting Memory derives its Immortality from a death attended with so much Infamy! But pardon me most learned Ashes, and most unhappy Relicks! We dare not summon so great a Ghost, nor accuse the deceased of such a Crime. Thou hast obeyed the Imperious Motions of the Heavens, and the cruel ne­cessity of the harder Fates. Cardan's Art is greater than Cardan; and cannot be eluded [Page 79]by the Endeavours of Misterious Philosophy. But what? He that can master his Affections and nearer charms, which scorch't and cap­tivated other Mortals, doth he now yield to the distant, and stragling Stars? Those Stars (I say) which, (unless antiquity be deceiv'd) are much inferior to our Humane Na­ture, and are compell'd by it? How much more happily by the Flight of Birds, or En­trails of Beasts, might he have foretold the Event of things, and the hidden Treacheries and secret Stratagems of his Enemies!

There are some things the Gods envy the knowledge of to Mankind, and would have them chastly buried, and to lie hid in their first causes; least they should be prophaned and violated by too bold a research; suppo­sing it to be the greatest piece of Learning to understand the revolution of Times and Festivals, wherein it may appease the displea­sed Deities, and humbly offer Incense to the Coelestial Empire. How much prying Mor­tals have been punish't, and chastized for their too much Curiosity, the waters made infa­mous by a premature and unexpected Fate, and Vesuvius celebrated for the Death of Pliny, do abundantly declare. But if it be a fault to dive and search into the first Principles and Motions of things; If it be criminal to fly [Page 80]to the utmost Sphears, and to know more than vulgar Capacities, why was man endowed with reason? why doth that Particle of Di­vine Air animate a Being, that moulders and languisheth with Sloth, and Negligence, but that it climbs up to the Stars, and visits the seat of its first Original? Why is the Face of Nature not always the same, but various, sometimes famous for the clearness of its ope­rations, and sometimes venerable for its miste­rious workings? Why is it thus? but that it may exercise the activity of the vigilant Soul, and that there may be more matter for its con­templation? She is not satisfied (like the Body) with the delicacies of a treatment, nor with all the Luxury of the Fruitful Seas, or Teeming Earth. She delights not (like that) in such narrow Confinements, who feels not the bounds of an embracing Ocean, but rowes about into unknown tracts with a boundless Freedom. How doth she soar aloft, big with scorn of this Inferiour World? Not wearied with the difficulties of its crag­ged ways, how doth it imitate the incessant motion of the first Heaven?

Most cruel Toil! we reach the Heavens with our Folly; and neglecting those things, which are the only support of the more solid Felicity of our Lives, we are distracted with [Page 81]the Images and Shadows of vainer Phan­tasms. To these we pay our more frequent devotions, and to these we offer our daily Homage, till tir'd at length with the ungrate­ful Journey, like the waves, a long time tos­sed with tedious Storms, we are wearied and languish, and are quite spent into Peace and Calmness. We are more affected with the narrow precincts of a little Village, more de­lighted with illiterate Ease, and a private Retirement, than with our former pale En­deavours, and with our traversing the Uni­verse, when with a sacrilegious and bold In­dustry we wandered further than Hercules Pillars, and went beyond the bounds as well of Modesty, as Nature.

From no other Fountain flowed our Car­dans premature death, hastened, to wit, by pertinacious Industry, and an indefatigable Soul; which although Fatal to its Master, yet grateful Posterity will never mention without the highest Encomiums; and though far from Superstition, it raise no Altars to his Merits, yet will enroll him amongst Heroes, and advance him to the highest pitch of Mor­tals Ambition. Let others reproach his sud­den Fate, and abrupt Funeral, Cardan dies through no other, but his own wickedness; and in vain had he desir'd in the Inhumane [Page 82] Gete, or Venetian assassine, a more cruel mind to ascertain his Prediction; neither could he have found one more kindly cruel, as to free the Philosopher from infamous sui­cide; and Posterity would not have pardon'd the Crime, if committed by any other hand beside his own, which though it did most unhappily obey his Master in his Death, yet hath made amends for the Injury by his lear­ned Pen.

But oh! the various Fluctuations of the Soul! This miserable man knows not what rock to cling to; at the same moment, he doth both at once determine, and yet doubt to die. This Procrastination of his Destiny, argues a timerousness not becoming Cardan, and he had died more gloriously stab'd with a Sword, than starv'd by Famine. But this may be said in Favour of the Deceased, that he yielded up the Ghost with an undaunted Courage; and whilst others oppressed with Penury, and grinding Necessity, breath out a faint and languid Spirit, he neglects his suste­nance, and yields to Fate. He underwent not the Destiny of Petrius, and Renowned Cato, who enjoyed the Felicity of a sudden End, but satisfied the cruel Command of his Governour, whilst he determined to perish gently by little and little, and not surrendring [Page 83]to the Fates, but after a long siege, he truly perceives himself to die—And least he should be unhappy in his Death, Let him enjoy for me a silent Urn and peaceable Ashes! Let the Stars be propitious, whose influence he asser­ted even with his Life and Blood! Nor let the Arts be silent of him, who was their great Patron and Protector.

DECLAM. XXI. Alexander, being saluted the Son of Ju­piter Hammon, and thereupon arro­gating to Himself Divine Worship, is accused of Pride by his Souldi­ers.
He defends himself.

SEeing I have exposed my self (O ye Macedonians!) to so many dangers in your behalf, seeing I have preserved you safe from the Injuries and Violence both of wa­ters, [Page 84]and Enemies, at Granicum, Cilicia and Arbela, seeing I have stoutly maintain'd the Honour and Glory of the renowned Mace­dons, and have added, by my Victories, the subdu'd world to your Empire; I had thought, after such Divine Testimonies of my Courage you would have subscribed to mine Opinion, and would have affectionately embrac'd me like some sacred Buckler, that had dropt from Heaven. But to Crown me with Divine Honours, I perceive, is not agreeable to your Customs; you therefore belch out your Re­proaches against me, devote me to the shades, though every one of my Atchievements speak me not so much a Man as a God; A Deity (I say) in regard I never had a repulse, nay Fortune her self, though obstinate, durst ne­ver contradict me.

How often have I, undaunted, rendered my self obnoxious to certain Perils? and with an Invincible Courage, have (in spite of the Fates) restor'd the tottering, chance of War? That I have triumph't over that sickle God­dess, that I have trampled under feet the ra­venous Destinies, and that I am the only Mo­narch of the Universe, the Gods and you do well enough understand; that Jupiter Hammon hath rewarded my Deserts with Immortality, and acknowledged me his Son, you sufficiently [Page 85]know, and tis needless to tell you; why do you not therefore, with bended knees, adore as a Deity my Divine Majesty? why do you not believe Hammon, whose credit to this very day remains inviolable? Do Oracles utter Lies? Do you think me unworthy of the Society of the Gods? What? have not my conquering Arms advanc't me above the or­dinary pitch of Mankind? Have they not made me equal to Hercules and Bacchus.

Observe, (O ye ungrateful Macedonians!) Is it nothing that I have trodden so much snow, that I have passed over so many impe­tuous Rivers, and travell'd over so many fro­zen mountains, which (if you believe Fame) have daunted Hercules, who had not Cou­rage enough to attempt them? I forbear to mention Victories and Triumphs; I speak not of subdued Kingdoms and Empires, which were not so much as known by him, much less subverted by his prowess. I have raz'd Thebes without War or Blood, and my very Name hath struck such a Terrour into Greece, that it offered me a golden Crown of Victory, and hath chosen me her Captain. My stupen­dous Glory will not be confin'd within the narrow limits of the Macedonian Kingdom, but revolving in my mind the whole Uni­verse, to make way for my future greatness, I [Page 86]have landed a few men in Asia, and at Grani­cus have quell'd my most dreadful Enemy with a great slaughter; have reduc't Lidia, Ionia, and Phrygia, and made them submit to my Power.

Finally, having overcome and broken through all opposition, I came to Issus, where with repeated Victories, I discomfited Darius the Potent King of Persia with his numerous Army. Afterward it came into my mind, or I recounted how many slain I sent in one day to the shades below, insomuch that Charon confessed that his own boat was not sufficient, but that there was need of a whole navy of Ships for Transportation. And to omit my atchievements at Tyre, and Ar­bela, and an infinite more in other places, I arrived a Conqueror at the Indian Ocean, and made that a bound both at once to my conquests and the whole world; and put to slight their wounded Elephants, and made King Parus my miserable Captive. Passing the River Tanais, I have destroyed the fierce Seythians with a great slaughter: and the rock Aornon, whose craggy difficulty forc'd Hercules from a siege, I alone have attempted, have climb'd it and conquered, and have rai­sed my Trophies and Eternal monuments be­yond the bounds of Father Bacchus.

Finally, returning from Memphis, the whole world being at Peace, I made mine addresse according to the Custom of my Country to the Oracle of Jupiter Hamon, where I was joyfully received, and with the gratulations of the whole company of Priests; nay, Jove himself, the Father both of Men and Gods, descended from his stud­ded Throne of Emrald, and saluted me as I approach't him; and after much comple­ment exchanged on both sides, He adopted me to be his Son, and commanded you to adore your King, and to worship him with Divine Honours.

But you neither hearken to his Commands, nor will believe that I am enrolled among the Gods. And your Envy doth daily more increase against me, because I hate not Jove, by whose Oracle I am pronounced a God. Are the answers of the Deities in my Power? He profered me the Name of a Son. I wish you would believe me a God, that so you might atone and appease the displeased Dei­ties, and reward your King with Immorta­lity and Glory; by whose warlike Prowess triumphant Greece hath been raised to the highest pitch of Felicity — But though now you think it much to bow your Heads to my Deity, yet I fancy when I shall be translated [Page 88]to Heaven you will not deny me Divine Honor, and as soon as you perceive your base Ingratitude, whom now you hate, being pre­sent with you, you will lament and grieve for, when I am snatch't from you, and will perform due Honour, and Reverence to my Ghost and Ashes.

DECLAM XXII. — For Fear of Death, 'Tis madness to resign our Breath.

He is neither Patient nor Valiant, who amidst the Tumult and Fury of War, cares not to die by the Sword of his Enemy, but covets to fall by his own Hand, he is to himself an Enemy, and to his Enemy a Friend; he is kind to them, and to himself a Tyrant. If when prosperous success, shall crown our Endeavours, Life is so much esteem'd midst the pomp of Victory, that there is scarce mat­ter for our Triumph, or time to admire, or adore our selves; Methinks 'tis strange, after one frown of Adverse Fortune, one blow of [Page 89]an incensed Enemy, so to be weary of our Breath, as not only to avoid and shun our Adversary, but to run from our lives as a more cruel Enemy.

By doing thus, we both astonish Nature and Heaven too; who are not only Rebels to our selves, but ingrateful to it, and are Usurpers too. For if we take away our lives with those darts, which Nature has given for the defence of them, we make her to act in vain, and violate the sacred Institutions, and Laws of the Destinies. 'Tis not Glory, nor Valour; Honour nor Prowess to yield to so easie a Death, and whilst we spill our Blood against the Deities not enough propitious, we seek to revenge our selves of Heaven, and not of our Enemy. This Villany, of­ficious Fame will transmit to Posterity. Such a crime argues Degeneracy of Spirit; and 'tis not Valour but Fear overcomes us; so that our Bodies can hardly endure savage Tiranny, because our Souls are weak and stupid. Sig­nal Valour must be as hard as Adamant, and have a Breast an Anvil to all miseries, which (like the invincible Palm-tree) must trium­phantly rise against all Pressures.

Far be it that our Enemy should glory in our overthrow without a wound or con­flict! Far be it that his Sword (like the Ba­silisk) [Page 90]should shoot forth Death on a mee [...] Spectator! Nothing can be desired worse than Death: but now if Death be a reward, we must break our way through our Enemies Breasts, and because there is not room for Flight on Earth, we will pursue our Foe (as Brutus the Adulterer) to the Shades be­low. But perhaps he is not so furious as to be a Tormentor rather than a Comman­der: But if nothing can quench his thirst, but a draught of Blood, we must imitate the Example of the Roman Senate, not to de­sire Death, or fear it. When our Enemies ap­proach, having adorn'd our selves with Pomp and Splendor, let us expire in state: And if we can suffer the Fatal stroke with an un­daunted Spirit, let us not for shame be afraid of Enemy or Bondage, as if more cruel than Death. Let us not free our selves from prison by our own wounds, we will not pur­chase so inglorious a Refuge at such a rate; nor so obscurely descend to the Ghosts be­low; we will rather wholly be involv'd in chains. A Souldier shall load our Ambitious hands with such Bracelets. 'Tis no disgrace for such great Bodies to be lead Captive. We are of more worth than to become a trium­phant Feast for the Furies. We will not submit our selves to a Martial, but bow our necks [Page 91]to a Marriage yoke, desiring to lie imprison'd in more noble Embraces. We blush not (being subdued) to be carried Appendages to the proud Chariot. We will not imitate Demosthenes, or Varus: Far be it from us to follow such degenerous Commanders. But thou Claesia! the wonder and glory of Rome: shalt be our pattern, we will cross (like thee) not only over Acheron, but our Country Ri­ver. For amidst storms and tempestuous Troubles, Valour breaks forth with a brigh­ter Lustre; so that if Heaven, Earth, and Air, should conspire against us, we will stand unaffrighted at such great ruine. Such Prowess if it cannot invite, yet shall scare our Enemies into Kindness and Clemency. If they will not commiserate our sad con­dition, let them be more sparing of their brandish't weapons, But if they are asham'd to put them into a dry Scabbard, and have a mind to lodge their Artillery in the qui­ver of our pierced Breasts, let us fly enrag'd to the Infernal Lake, that not only our Foes, but Furies themselves may be struck with Fear and Consternation. What Im­mortal Glory will accrue by this? we are as Famous in our Death, as Valiant in our Life. And although we are dead, yet perpetual Trophies shall preserve us alive; [Page 92]and though no one will lament and bemoan our so unhappy Fate, yet Posterity will pay everlasting Homage and Eternal Veneration to our Tomb and Sepulcher.

DECLAM. XXIII. 'Tis better to travel abroad, than to tar­ry at home.

I Blush to see such a ring of Philosophers, and so many pale Students always plod­ding, and poring upon their Books. We ought surely to engage our selves in a more profitable Employ, and not to be confin'd in a narrower Study, than the whole World. He is truly a Scholar, who is vers'd in the Volumn of the Universe, as who doth not so much read of Nature, as contemplate, and study Nature her self. Those are but low and mean Spi­rits, who breath at home, and cling so fast to their Native Soil. The Diviner Soul, mindful of its Extraction, and Birth above, imitates Heaven, and delights in motion. Be­hold [Page 93]the Stars, how they wheel about with unwearied Courses! How doth the Sea fluctuate with a restless wave? and (un­less Copernicus had a whimsy) the Earth turns round, and is troubled with a Ver­tigo.

And do we not yet travel? Behold the Aspect of every thing invites you abroad! especially that verdant Tempe, and the em­broidered Elisium of the new-born Spring! And who is he, unless condemn'd to the set­tle in chimny corner, that will not run to the joyful Nativity of the Infant-year, and gra­tifie his senses with the blooming Blandish­ments of the pleasant Fields? What disgrace doth attend the Houshold Deities? But if you take a voiage from home, here you are salu­ted with the proud height of Alpes and Py­ramids, there you meet with the prodigious Fabrick of a burly Colosse; on this side a Landskip adorn'd with Cities, on that a Prospect shaded with Groves; one very side surrounded with new worlds, and encompas­sed with the Luxury of divers objects; so that your divided Senses turn doubtful Sceptricks, being distracted with the variety of fresh Spectacles, and register the remembrance of their past Pleasure. From whence proceed your Famous Wits? From whence arises [Page 94]Dignity, and Honour? Who was ever emi­nent or advanc't from smoke? or who was ever made immortal by a Domestick Jove? with whom, whosoever through Sloth con­verses and dwells, the Glory of his Fame will daily fade, his Sanguine Cheerfulness will be Phlegin and Dulness, his brisker Heats will cool and die, his Vigor Faint, his Life is Death, and his Name buried in silence and oblivion.

How many have there been (as experience tells us) who have come into the world dull, and stupid, and condemn'd by Nature to the prophane Rabble, whom an ingenious search into Forreign Parts ( Prometheus-like) hath animated and enlivened with new Fires, and hath (as it were) made and framed them of new mould, hath refined them into Stars, and made them glorious Luminaries to dispel the darkness of the cloudy Age? Again, how many are there of quicker parts, who though coaeval with Nestor within their private walls, yet have at length expired Fools and Ideots.

And what? Do we not travel yet? Why are we enlightned with two eyes? Why are we fork't, and branch't into two legs? what did Nature mean to distinguish man into so many Senses, and almost crown'd him with [Page 95]Immortality? Why did she fix the mountains, pour out the Sea? Why did she embellish and bespangle the world with such Star-like Spectacles? 'Tis strange! What was her in­tent? Far be it, that we should thus defraud our Nature and Genius, that such Divinity should lurk and be concealed in a Chimny­corner, and should die, and expire in a cloud of Smoke! Every thing in the world is an Emblem of Travel: For what else are the Motions of the Stars, the Flights of Clouds, the Career of the Sun, and the Course of the Moon, the Fall of Waters, the gliding of Rivers, the Frisking of Beasts and Swim­ming of Fishes, in woods and streams; I say, what else are all these, but representations of travel, and a waifaring Life? But to come a litter closer: seeing these kind Invitations do but little move you, we will slatter you in­to travel with more winning insinuations, and shall give you a Prospect of that pleasing Variety, of those ravishing Delights, which feed the Curiosity of an inquisitive Traveller; and they are such, which captivate the wan­dring Senses with such powerful charms, that whom they cannot perswade, by a gentle violence, they will draw abroad.

Here (believe me) are to be seen such allu­ring objects, which will even tire the multitu­dinous [Page 96]sight, and the visive faculty of all-eyed Argus; which once being veiwed, make us ready to wish to be perpetual Spectators with an alternate eye. There are odors which feed you with their breath: here dainties, which you cannot so much as look on with idle Lips, on every side do occur such potent delights, such prevalent entertainments, that a Sceptick cannot question their command they have over us.

But now such is the unhappy condition of home-bred Clowns, that nothing is the ob­ject of their Senses, but what is ordinary and familiar; They see nothing strange and rare; what they do to day, that they do to mor­row, and every day; and what they see now, doth accur alwayes; Let us not therefore, as if unlawful to exceed the bounds of our Native Soil, end our days on the same spot, whereon we began them, and so expect death under the same Climat, wherein we received our life. What matter is it what ground we tread? what Air we breath in, or in what Region we behold the Sun. That publick Exchequer of Light doth scat­ter his Treasure to all alike; it every where glides the same Heaven; we are in all places refresh't by the same Air, and wheresoever our Souls are solicited and treated by new [Page 97]Spectacles, they can only discover divers Sci­tuations, but not another Earth: Let us not therefore, as if born and condemned to one corner of the Globe, breath our last, within the same walls we received our first; for he that lies hid at home does not live but is bu­ried in his house, whose closet is his Sepul­cher, upon which you may inscribe this Epi­taph, (hic situs est) here he is laid. But (thou most noble Youth!) whom Arts have inspired with a freer Genius, who art as wil­ling to traverse the world as well with thy feet, as to rove about it in thy active mind; Fly! Begon! thou canst not be safer in thine own house! Fancy the Universe to be thy Lycaeum, and the several Regions the Authen­tick manuscripts of the old stagyrite, all which having run over, thou wilt at length become a true stagyrite. Visit the amphibious Pro­vinces of the Dutch Otters, those Citizens of the Sea, who are less acquainted with their own, than with other Nations, and who have a Countrey where they have no Land. Or if thou hadst rather, go see and consult the Britains seperated and divorced from the whole world, whom you will find encom­pass'd with the embraces of the Sea, which is not so much their Prison as Defence, who are not its Captives, but Lords over it; For [Page 98]there is no tract of the Earth untrodden by the Britain, no creek of the Ocean, but he has sailed in it. There is nothing distant or hard to him; there is nothing, but what he hath either overcome or seen; hath measur'd by his travels, France, and Italy; Spain and Germany; Asia and Africa, and hath taken a journey to unknown Parts. Some have so curiously pried into the Northern Regions, as that they have left the Sun and Light behind them, and have followed so far the directi­on and conduct of the Polar-Star, till 'twas no longer their Guide, but a Companion in their Progress. Others not less scorch't with heat, than these were benumb'd with cold, have advanc't so far into Southern Climates, as to have seen the chambers of the rising Sun, and view'd the cradle of the Infant-morn; where kinder Phaebus sheds not his raies on the Heavens only, but munificently gildes the Earth too, in whose bosome you may find mountains of gold without a fiction, and such heaps of jewels, which are only vile through their great Plenty. Let us not therefore alwayes devote our selves to the idle Mu­ses, nor dote on the Sophisms of knot­ty Sciences; Let us not, cloystered in our Studies, perpetually be enslav'd to the Libe­ral Arts; seeing the utmost pitch of our En­deavours [Page 99]and Sweat are subtle Niceties, emp­ty Notions, solemn Trifles, and learned No­things. Let us no longer so curiously search after their abstracted subtleties, nor hunt any more after their fugitive inventions; But lay­ing aside all laborious contemplations, let us measure in our progress the dimensions of the globe! let us reach its bounds, and wander as far as the remotest Antipodes! let our eyes rove with their wanton glances, let our noses imbibe the fragrant breath of refreshing odours; and let us treat our palats with the magnificent Festivity of rich Viands! let the whole troop or brigade of our Senses travel; and we being surrounded with a guard of their pleasures, here let us view the sweet perfumes of Tmolus, there go see the scents of Thessalian Fields! Now let us go visit the golden strand of yellow Tagus, and the pre­tious streams of rich Pactolus; anon enjoy the ravishing Felicities of happy Arabia, and the delicious Prodigalities of the luxurious Indies! nay, have at the wanton Treasures of the whole Universe, which if I should at­tempt to describe to you in bare words, 'twould be as great a Solecism, as to make an Oration to your eyes, or to declaim and harangue to your noses; I shall therefore wave the travel of our Senses, and shall omit that fertil preg­nancy [Page 100]so big with Delights, which are wont to ravish those noble Centinels of our Souls, I mean our Senses, whensoever they travel.

And what do you say now? do these things speak but coldly? we will urge the matter home, and press it further. Go too! prepare your selves, and behold the dangers of a domestick Education.

What do men do within their private Ha­bitations? they sit still; Oh sad! How often do we see those home-bred Rusticks buried in Sloth, and wallowing in Intemperance! How frequently drown'd in a deluge of Liquors, who overwhelmed in Lethe, do breath out their immoderate Souls in a mortal dream! whereas the lively and moving Spirits, do by their Sobriety obtain of the Destinies a lon­ger thred, who indulging their Senses a pleasant variety of grateful objects, be­come eminent and conspicuous, famous and illustrious, and (to speak more gloriously) mortal Deities, famous and conspicuous? why such you may find amongst the House-hold Gods; For they have their wonders and spectacles worthy your sight; For what else are those luxurious spend-Thrifts, who make themselves old, even before their youth, who wast their Patrimony in unlawful loves, al­wayes quarelling for new Misses; who in [Page 101]their Minority are ripe for Hell, and provoke and invite unwilling death before their time.

Let us rejoice, and triumph! let us elevate our Spirits! Forsake the chimny-corner, aban­don Sloth! let us rise, walk, and be travel­ling! Our will commands us; Pleasure desires us; our hands and feet importune us; at home dangers affright us, abroad spectacles invite us. Rejoice, and triumph!

Hath nature chain'd us to one clod? Hath it condemn'd us to one corner? shall we lead our lives within the narrow precincts of a few miles? shall we grow old in the confines of one cottage? where we lived, shall we there die? I bear about me but six ounces of dust, which I owe to our common mother (for the Chymistry of Cardan found no more in the ashes of a calcin'd body) and what matter is it, where my Tabernacle is dissolved, and where I pay so small a debt? at home through Luxu­ry and delights we grow effeminate, and are melted and dissolved through domestick soft­ness.

Let us away then to the frozen pool; and let us admire orbicular surrounding amphi­theatrical shadowes of the remote Amphiscii! The acute Mathematicians measure the Earth with grains, and weigh it with ounces; they will tell you the number of the dust of the [Page 102]Earth, and compute the quantity of the drops of the Sea: the vastness of the former, and the wideness of the latter they will contract and crowd into the narrow compass of little maps; where the Turkish Empire is compri­zed in a blot, and the large Danow repre­sented by the slenderness of a thin line. Would you hold and grasp Nature abridg'd in the compass of your hand? why Hondius hath fram'd most exactly such artificial worlds, that you may compass the Universe with the length of your fingers, and go beyond Drake with your extended Palm.

But what do men at home? they drink and swill: Here the gluttony of Apicius, there the softness of Sardanapalus: here prodigal wretches consume and wast their dwindled Fortunes, there Gormondizers bury their Pa­trimonies in the gulph of Luxury; here beard­less youth devoted to Bacchus, there riper age martyrs to Venus; some born in a richer dirt, and more prodigal soil, are enslaved to the Fortune of an uncertain die! others more co­vetous, and adoring gold, fleece the poor, and defraud the needy, and with winged speed, fly to the commission of all Evil.

And do not all these things previal yet? behold the notable Example of great Alexan­der! from whence (most worthy Heroe!) [Page 103]hadst thou thy wit and parts? what Pallas (as I may say) I want a word) did Parnassate thy Soul with such Learning and Vertue? what was it plac'd thee, being greater than all Encomium, and enrolled thee among the Gods? did not thy viewing in travel, Cities and Countries? let me ask ye (O ye famous worthies, Hercules, Cato, Ci­cero, Plato and Caesar!) how did ye become so glorious? though you are dead, yet your Example speaks: 'twas your Familiarity with forreign Parts, that transmits your renown to succeeding Ages. I could cite infinite others both of former and present times: but I can­not omit the never dying, or deathless memo­ry of Queen Elizabeth, whose happy Vir­ginity fruitful in Dominions (though not in Children) hath Christen'd Regions with her Name and Religion; hath planted Colonies in a new world, and hath removed England into the distant Continent. What shall I say of him, whom I will not call the Envy, but the wonder and amazement as well of Ancient as Modern Conquerors; who, Com­panion to the Sun, hath compassed the world with that daily travellor; who hath laid open and discovered the hinges of the Universe, and to whom we are so much indebted for the [Page 104]knowledge of Nature, as to the famous Stagy­rite, its chiefest Secretary.

But to conclude, and that our Oration need not want authority, behold! it boasts of Kings and Nobles; amongst whom let us fix upon our Famous Charles of blessed me­mory, who was both a Guide and Example to forreign travel, who though much admired by his own Countrey, yet returned more conspicuous by his Spanish Accomplishments, and Forreign Acquilitions.

DECLAM. XXIV. Against travelling abroad, &c.

THere is nothing which we cannot both sooner and safer acquire by the motion of our eye at home, than by the weary steps of our feet abroad. How many rare inge­nious persons hath a forreign Sky unhappily transformed into beastly monster? They have returned only with humane aspect, and like the Olympick Joves mentioned in the [Page 105]Poet, have appeared glorious with their gol­den heads, but are mean and fordid with their dirty bodies; like Colossaean Images they ravish without with the pleasant Hypocrisie of char­ming colours, but within terrifie and affright with the ugly shape of an Ape or Serpent. They are more nice and effeminate than Sar­danapalus, who are softned by Venery into putrefaction; whose excess and debauchery hath non-pluss'd Bacchus, and hath drank dry even the God of Tipple. There is no un­heard of Villany, which they have not either done or thought of. Behold! what aking heads? what swoln, puft up, Boreas-like, cheeks! what dull and heavy eyes! what tottering feet! how often do they disgorge up their Souls amidst their intemperate cups? and are buried with the Solemnities of drun­ken Bromius? 'Twas travel that brought us this vice, and the Dutch good-fellow-ship hath taught us Drunkenness.

Whence comes it that our Femasculine Ma­trons, our English Syrens are so ingenuous for Pride, who place not an hair without advice, but call a Court for the disposing of every lock, who dispence not a nod without Coun­sel, whose eyes glance not without an Edict, and whose feet do move in exact measure. How do they counterfeit Nature; who so drench [Page 106]their looks in oils, and washings, that they lose their faces and complections in their gally-pots; they so glitter in their filks, and are so critically attired in so exact a dress, as if they would break the eyes of every Specta­tor. From whence such petulant, and sparkling eyes? Certainly Pride taught this vice of travelling, and we may thank haugh­ty Italy for these prodigies and crimes against Nature. How often do we feel France in our bones? and how often find Paris on our bodies, which sometimes doth op­press with a fashion, and sometimes pu­nish.

Let every one breath in the Air, where­in he was born! and let him not with wea­ry steps seek those things under another Sun, which he enjoys under his own! our Lares tell us there is nothing more pernicious to good manners, than distant visits of forreign Cities: there is none but brings home or commends some vice or other. Embassa­dors seldome return with the same humors they exported abroad; they barter fashions, and are laden home with exotick customs. Cato and Laelius can scarce keep themselves from being corrupted and debauch't; against whom the most ununiform rabble have pre­pared Circaean cups to extoxicate them.

A just man, tenax propositi, worships and adores his domestick Joves; and, if we are wise, let us love, our Muses, and go no further than this our Parnassus! 'tis wisdome to keep in our present Mansion: for what is more unworthy a prudent man than to en­dure patiently the dust and Sun, for ma­ny years in the acquisition of that, which one single Paragraph, one single Page will teach him in one hour.

The Schools are open, and Library pub­lick: here you read with tears of the rub­bish and ashes of ruined Troy, of Priamus wanting a funeral Pile. Here you may read in classick History of Mausolaums and Pyramids; of Colossus, and Hercules Pillars, and whatsoever is celebrated by the voice of Fame.

DECLAM. I. Whether Vertues are implanted in man by Nature? Affirm'd.

WHen we wander with our eyes through the dubious varieties of distracting Nature, and when we behold the roof of the world so richly bespangled with posies of Stars, that flame above, and the floor of the same, so luxuriously deck't with Asterisms of Flowers that twinckle beneath, or when we see as it were the flowry Pavement of Hea­ven bestrew'd with Stars, and the Starry Fir­mament of the Earth studded with Flowers, [Page 109]when we view the Universe on this side bright, and arraied in Flame; on that side dark, and veild with Shade; here gilded with the radiancy of a glorious Sun; there [...]ullied with the horror of an Eclipsing Cloud; I say when we have a Prospect of these things, nothing is the object of our sight, but won­ders, and such prodigies that surpass all hu­mane Invention. And as we admire the Landskip of the bigger world, so are we stricken with an equal amazement at the sight of the less, I mean the stupendous Fa­brick of mortal man. See! with what a lofty Person and Majestick Stature doth he shoot upward, whereas groveling Animals are prone downwards! what Skill and Me­chanism doth his very Model declare? what excellent contrivance is legible in his con­texture? what curiosity of Art doth the least Atom boast! with what a grace doth Beauty, that Empress of his fore-head, com­mand and sway? how are his cheeks en­flamed with the blushing Oriency of a purple die? What sparklings in his eyes! what roses in his lips! what driven Snow adorns his neck? what comliness and feature lie scattered midst the excellent proportions of every Limb? Lastly, what raies of Di­vinity do shine from his head?

If we contemplate the Elegancy of this Fa­brick, and the most accurate Industry of Nature in this Structure; if we consider the Pillan of this Royal Palace, and the Butteresses that support the vast bulk of this proud Edefice if we observe the Courts without and the Closets within, the perplexed Labyrinths and intricate Mazes of winding Arteries, and th [...] marvelous Luxuriency into sprouting nerves when we reflect (I say) on these things we must needs be astonish't, and cannot but exclaim with Zoroaster of old, O man the Mi­racle of daring Nature! Admiration it sel [...] is delighted with this Spectacle, and Nature her self is intoxicated with her own work.

And as she hath blest the Body with such excellencies, so might she have furnish't the Soul with the like Endowments, in respect of whom, Heaven it self is worthless, and to whom the whole world gives place, and veils its bonnet: but the Immortal Gods have deny'd Nature so great a Boon, least too im­pudently she should boast that she is born a Goddess. If such a constellation of Vertues should club at the Nativity of a poor Mor­tal, certainly Man must be reckoned, if not in the same rank with, yet in the next form to the Eternal Deities, from whom they differ (according to Pliny) in Immortality only.

But however, let us not vilifie and dispa­rage the gifts of Nature, who hath been very bountiful and obliging to us; the hath in­stil'd into us the Principles of Goodness, and hath put it into our power (if we will) to be Vertuous. The Callous Farmer plows up a grave in his Mother Earth, and buries his Corn in the Bowels of our common Pa­rent; but if the ingrateful Soil shall devour the Seed, and deny a Resurrection, or an ex­pected Harvest, the fault is not in the Hus­band-man, but in the barren ground. Na­ture hath scattered in us seeds of Vertues, but if there shall follow no crop 'tis not Na­ture, but we are unprofitable. But if it had pleased the Immortal Gods to have crowned men with Vertue, without Labour, then there had been reason why Nature should be blamed, and not man, and we might have justly complained, that she is so cruel a Step-mother as to bring us into the world polluted with Vice and utterly destitute of all Vertue; but seeing Heaven sells all things to Mortals for Sweat and Labour, and Vertues are the products of Study and Industry, and not the [...] of meer Nature: men have no reason [...] that she is so hard and cruel. In all [...] there are some glimmering hopes, which [...]ing they die with age, it is mani­fest [Page 112]therefore Nature was not defective, but that care was wanting. Let us not accuse Nature of Impotency, who though pregnant with Vertue, yet brings it not forth, for that is beyond her Strength and Power, nor (which is a more just complaint) let us in­dict her of Impiety, who is always a cherisher of Mankind.

'Tis true, one man excels another in the acuteness of his Faculties, yet our common Parent hath not so disinherited any man of Ingenuity, as to leave him destiture of all in­ward Accomplishments. Some she hath pro­duced ripe for knowledge, who ( Papirius like) are capable in minority of Court Em­ploiments; but others must be anvill'd, and as it were be manufactured by Discipline to be made fit for Improvements. She hath not (as the Stoicks fondly dream) so clear'd the passage to Vertue, as that a man may ar­rive to it without Labour. Some certain colours a fleece easily imbibes, others (unless incorporated as it were into its very sub­stance) it will hardly receive; thus humane Souls sometimes unfledg'd, and in their In­fancy, hasten to be endowed with Maxims of Prudence, and sometimes arrive to Dotage before they can attain to Knowledg. An happy Education, and early Instruction will [Page 113]much conduce to the fashioning of our Man­ners, and the morning of our daies blushing with the tincture of wise Precepts, will have a good insluence in the ordering our Conver­sation, for they sooner reach the top, who sweating in the ascent, are elevated by the strength of supporting hands; But however, the way that leads to Wisdome and Vertue, is not block't up from any man; besides, that Pow­er of working, which Nature hath implanted in every man, like an indulgent Parent, she hath blest Mortals with another Faculty, which disposes to the Exertion of that Power, which some call Potentia secunda; but I rather name it an Inclination or Genius; for we usually say that every man of his own Nature and Genius is prone and hath a propensity to this or that. Such Dispositions and Genius's are inbred in us, but lame and imperfect, yet so, as that by Execise and Industry they may be much improved; Nature hath not pre­scribed such narrow limits to mans advance­ment, but that he may rise from one degree of Eminency and be installed in another, so that a common Souldier may have the pre­ferment of a General, and private men may soar to the Dignity of Kings and Emperours; thus the Soul is not confin'd within such strait bounds, as to remain alwayes the same she [Page 114]is by Nature, but may refine her Being, and enlarge her self by Study and Industry. The Genius therefore, and disposition of every man must be tenderly cherish't, and be cultivated by Art, that Vertue may blossom from the first Principles, and Elements of Nature. A Souldier armed with Courage, and actuated with the Spirit of Valour and Gallantry, whose undaunted Breast knows no retreat, if his stout Bravery be sharpen'd by conflicts, and is daily conversant in the storms of War, he must needs be Victorious, and a man of conduct, he must needs understand the Strata­gems of his Adversary, and at his Pleasure re­turns with Spils from his Enemy; but if at the sight of Battalions, his Magnimity shall dwindle into Sloth and Cowardise, he adorns his Flight, but not the War; and destroyes with fear the natural briskness of his steely temper, which Labour and Hardship had fer­mented into Stoutness and Heroick Resoluti­on. Thus the seeds and sparks of Vertue that lie buried in our Souls, unless actuated and enliven'd by Study and Industry, will cer­tainly wither and vanish into nothing; but if manur'd by Labour they will daily sprout and shoot up into maturity. Though Vertue re­ceive some imperfect blushes and hints from Nature, yet 'tis perfected by Documents, and [Page 115]sage Instructions. All our Counsels and Endeavours tend only to repair the ruines of Nature, all Art and Discipline would sup­ply its defects; for Instructions would be superfluous, if Nature were sufficient. Dust and Sun are the forerunners, and the Pre­face to the Palm of Victory. The best things are besieged with the greatest difficulties, and as not Riches, so neither do Vertues pop up­on the Slothful and Idle. They grow on a Precipice, and whosoever will gather them, with much Sweat and Panting must reach after them.

DECLAM. II. Whether Nobility is Natural or Heredi­tary, and propagated by Traduction to Posterity? Denied.

WHat? honour a native ornament? I pray tell me, what have Mortals e're received from Nature besides to Live and to Die? 'Tis true, she hath given them a [Page 116]ductile Being, to be spun and wire-drawn into a few years, hath granted them a little daw­ning and morn of Life, but (alas!) it will quickly determine in a twilight, and night of Death. What? do our Peers owe their Titles to Nativities, and their Badges to the Midwifery of a filly woman? can sacred Pur­ple, the ensign of their Honor, be fitted and adapted to a poor Infant? is it enough to ennoble one to have been born into the world, to have cried, and to have seen one day? what therefore doth it avail a man to orerun the world, and to measure it with the Geography of his Arms and Triumphs, and to pant and breath out his great Soul midst the thickest of his Enemies, if Nobility be natural, and not to be ascribed to the me­rits of Vertue? as if Alexander was not ho­norable enough by his universal Conquest without being the Brat of his fire Philip; and as if it was more credit to Hereules to be Jupiters Bastard, and to be the off-spring of the womb of impure Alemena, than to have underwent such famous and renowned La­bours.

Why such diligence in the tedious exercise of severe Vertue? why such waiting and atten­dance on the pale Muses? who will not laugh at Cato's Stoicism, at the lamp of Epicietus? [Page 117]who will not deride the whole learned world, is Nobility sprung from Nature? and is not the Product of Wit, of Parts, of Vertue and good manners? let a mans conversation be Vitious and his life profligate; let his Intel­lectuals be stupid even to a Prodigie and a Proverb; let nothing be handsome and come­ly in his Body; nothing Mercurial, and aiery in his Soul, yet Nobility shall be listed among crimes, where to live and to be, is enough to dub one honourable without conversation and living well; where Extraction, and not Lear­ning; where Blood, and not Vertue, creates a Gentleman.

But what is this Gentile Blood? tell me I pray you, whose Ancestors are supposed to have instill'd into your veins a more noble gore. All Blood is of the same colour; and if some doth boast a purer die, 'tis not Nobi­lity but Health and Constitution that gave the tincture. The Phisician in Phleboto­my cannot distinguish betwixt the Gene­rous Stream, and the Plebeian Flood. What? Is the Blood a juice of an higher rank? and are the other Humors inferiour and common? why do you not esteem ingenious Melancholy? Martial Choler, and light Flegme? If Honor is in the Blood, what is more refin'd than the Liquor that flowes in vulgar veins? on whose [Page 118]skins dwells the whiteness of driven Snow, on whose cheeks sits the Vermilion of a mo­dest blush, and through whose whole bodies is spread a Sanguine Complexion. In the Field of Mars, the King and the Subject, the General and common Souldier fall with an equal Fate, but with different Glory, shall I think the latter spilt more ignoble Blood for his Countrey, than did the former? he is a wretch, who esteems not the least ounce as dear to himself, as doth the great Caesar.

But admit, that Nobility doth lodge in the Blood, yet it is but a little that flows within the narrow channels of our Veins and Arteries. But this Gentile Plurisie seems at length to sink, and what? is there any thing besides Blood and Spirit that can conduce to Nobility? not Illustrious Titles, which are easily comprized in a few letters, and can soon be pronounced by a little breath; not much money, for he is not Eques, whosoever is Auratus; not magnificent Structures, for we are covered with the roof of Heaven and with infinite Stars; nor the tedious Genealogy of an ancient Family; For trace thy Pedigree beyond Du­caleon and the Arcades, and take in the Aristote­lean Eternity of the world to boot, proceed ad infinitum in the Series of thy Ancestry, at length thine antiquated and obsolete Nobility [Page 119]will be drained to its dregs and to the least drop of Gentile Blood. An ingenuous Nature is ashamed to rake for Honour in the Urns and Ashes of his Fore-Fathers. 'Twas not Hereditary Dignity of his Stock and Lineage that adorned Tully; he rose from nothing, whom if any should disenrol from the list of Heroes, he deserves not only the Fury of my Speech, but the Satyrs and Scorpions of his Roman Eloquence.

What a small matter is it to be born of Nobles? worms and flies, the vilest Insects, that are either the errours or spot of wanton Nature, claim an Alliance to the glorious Hea­vens, and derive their Pedigree from the Sun and Stars. Nobility streaming to a long Poste­rity (like waters, wandring too far from their Source) degenerate from the worth of their fa­mous Ancestors, do (as it were) fall quite from the purity of their Chrystal Spring.

But whom, do you think, I esteem Noble? certainly him that is ingenuously born, and as ingenuously bred, that is tinctur'd with Lear­ning, and temper'd with Vertue: him, who is the golden boy of smiling Fortune, that widely differs from the bragging rabble, which by no other title can pretend to Nobility, quam Natura Coccino et Castoreo.

DECLAM. III. Whether to live with a Friend is a thing much to be desired? No.

BE gone (O my Friends) I desire not so much your sight as absence, and had ra­ther enjoy your room than company. I am willing sometimes to be divorced from you, neither do I covet alwayes to live with you; for friendship that is alwayes conversant in my presence becomes almost hatred, grows slender, disdainful, and is very haughty. You cannot be ignorant, what Flames of contention are usually kindled, and attend that Amity, which is supported and maintained by mutu­al aspect, and how often tis offended with tri­vial things. Those whom we have passio­nately loved, and whose sweet Society have importunately desir'd, as not only Friends but Brothers and Children, and (if there be any thing more dear) the very Deity it self of Friendship, even these (I say) we wish to be absent, if they hinder our Studies and obstruct our business; O what fervent Zeal is there to be found in Love? what [Page 121]jars in Wedlock! what sighs and tears, what complaints and suspicions 'twixt jealous Paramours! what civil Wars, I will not say betwixt Masters and Servants, betwixt Bro­thers and Sisters, Children and Parents, Pa­rents and Children! what Indignation is stirred in them against their Off-spring, who whilst they desire to be good, look on them as bad; and so do as it were after a manner hate them, whilst they do most affectionately love them. Come we now to the sacred name of Friendship, which being derived from Love cannot be conceived to exist or be without that Passion. But what diffe­rence in the lives and actions of Friends though they agree in their Ends? how do they clash in their Opinions, Advices, and Counsels! what conflicts about Religion and sacred things? whereas in absence no contests and bickerings, no gall and bitterness, nothing pungent and afflicting, besides desires, and yet these longings have a relish of Sweetness and Delight.

Tell me (O my Pamphilus) why amongst the many wishes of men, the chiefest of their desires is the fruition of their Friend, why do they covet his Society under the same roof? is it because distance of place makes Friend­ship languish and is remoteness the bane of all [Page 122]Fidelity? doth the aspect of thy Friend shed [...] complacency and a quietness into thy Soul? and art thou but half thy self in his absence? but if a Friend may be possess'd not only na­turally, but civilly too; how can absence hin­der him from sitting and walking, from rai­ling and jesting, from seriously discoursing and conversing with thee? sometimes a Friend is not discern'd, but when he is absent. A glu [...] of Friendship is nauseous and insipid, but a [...] appetite after it gives a relish to its tast; wherefore if the great Masters of Love pre­scribe an intermission of enjoyment as very expedient for Paramours, whose whole plea­sure is in presence, why is not an interregnun of fruition as convenient for Friends, in whose Vertue all delight is plac'd, and is not any way incommoded by absence, in regard it is every where present. I know not whether Epicurus was at Athens, or else where, when writing to his Friend, he bid him do all things as if Epicurus saw him. But certainly An­naeus was in Campania, when speaking to his Lucilius, living in Sicily by letters, he exhorts him to study, sup, and to walk with him, which things he could not perform, unless he act them on the Scene of Fancy without the help and ministery of Coporal Organs. But perhaps thine eyes anxiously desire thy [Page 123]Friend when absent: 'tis true, somewhat is withdrawn from thy sight by absence, but nothing from thy mind; no nor from thine eyes neither, if it be a true, firm, and well establish't Union.

For Cicero in an Epistle to his Friend Bal­bus sighting in France under the Command of Caesar, tells us that he saw him not only in his mind, but with his eyes too; which if it be so, tell me (my good Fellow!) why canst thou not both hear thine absent Friend and see him too? unless your sight is more quick and ready at a lascivious cast, than at a Vertu­ous glance, and you esteem sound more ho­nourable, than chast Love, which no distance or force can obstruct or hinder— If we should behold nothing, but what is directly before us and confronts our sight, and only present objects should delight and please us, then our vision must needs be narrow, and all our En­joiments very scanty; then farewel all joys of mental operations, and the complacency that we find in severe Speculations.

Do not therefore rack thy self with the thoughts of thine absend Friend! do not re­sent his departure heinously! he that hath learn't to bear the death of his Friend, will never be concern'd, or flinch at his absence. If thou only considerest of this in Friendship, that [Page 124]its Foundation is perpetual, firm and stable, then Death it self can take nothing from thee. Hast thou never heard how Laelius in Tully comforted himself? how doth his dear Scipir live with him? how doth the Fame and Ver­tue of his deceased Friend survive and flourish, and shall never be blotted out of the register of his memory? do not therefore yield to thy desires, but embrace thy Friend in Idea and Contemplation, whom neither Death nor Ab­sence can take from thee! lament not the departure of thy sweet Associate; for this bit­ter absence will sweeren, and render more Inscious his desir'd presence.

DECLAM. IV. Whether Friendship is the burden of Vertue? No.

I Cannot think Love to be so degenerous a Passion as to spring only from servile Blood. What are those Friendships and Ca­resses, those delicate Blandishments and soft [Page 125]Sportings? what are those chast Graces, fa­ [...]etious Delights, and pleasant hours it usually affords? I'le be hang'd if Love be nothing but a sweet Servitude. What Dialogues and Embraces? what Gifts and presents? what acceptable Pledges of reciprocal Affections? and what? are all these only the mutual of­fices of Bondage and Slavery? certainly we rather may exclaim, O the delicious tenor of a joyful Life! O infinite Bliss and Happiness! I should be apt to think Jove himself Hypo­chondriack and Melancholy, and not suffici­ently happy in his ravishing Elisium, if he should alwayes be contemplative, and not sometimes recreate himself and dally in the Society of Gods and Goddesses. The most affectionate breasts of the most Amorous Tur­tles do sometimes boil and ferment with an­ger, and are infested with the storms of un­kind Brawls. The Chrystal Serenity of the smiling Heavens is darkned with the tears of a frowning Skie; and the brightness of the Sun is benighted with the horrour of obscu­ring Clouds: thus Friendship may be eclip­sed, but not extinguisht, may sink into a swoon and fall away, but not quite into an Apostacie and utterly die. He is a most de­licate Lover, who cannot endure the froth of raging Language, which when the estua­tion [Page 126]of the blood growes calm, and abates, vanisheth with the choler that first caus'd it. The commands of my Friend I obey, his advice I follow, his perswasions I yield to, his affections I prove, his jests I laugh at, and care not a fig for his anger, and yet I do nothing whereby I may be thought to serve him, but rather to love him; nothing by the Fatal necessity and constraint of bon­dage, but by Friendly Counsel, and the swee­test Sympathy of most obliging Lovers. I fear not the frowns of the angry Heavens, not a deluge of waters, nor Hurrican's of winds, no nor death it self, if Friendship re­quire it: for to love is so far from being base and servile, that it is a thing most excellent, generous and noble. It is but a small mat­ter to breath out ones Soul (that indivisible Particle of Divinity and little gasp of vital Air) and to shed a few ounces of Blood in the behalf of a mans Friend: in the mean time let the Envious wretch be rackt and tortur'd, till he sob from his Skeleton his blew Ghost, scarce worthy of these shades to which 'tis damn'd; I say, let him smart with anguish, to whom to love, is not so much a slavery as a torment, pain and misery! let proud Mor­tals swell with loftiness, let them huff and be supercilious, who trample on all that are [Page 127]beneath their Orb, and with whom to love is mean and sordid! let the morose Ancho­ret be eternally damn'd to the solitude of his Cell, to whom Friendship is not servile but superfluous, and who thinks to love is the only property of wanton women.

DECLAM. V. Whether we may guess at a Mans Man­ners by his garb and habit?

FArwell all joys! and whatsoever pleasures the Soul found in secrets, be gon and va­nish! for our privacies now are prostitute and common, and those things which were only manifest to Mathematicians and Astrologers, are now publisht to every one by informing gestures, and the Rabble may be now of our Privy Counsel. Every limb is become vo­cal, and not only false construction and in­congruity of words, but a Solecism in our clothes is to be feared too. O vain and foo­lish dread! doth Nature so despise her work, as that when she gave men Malice, she would [Page 128]not give them a secret too? and seeing she hath made our Errors natural, and impos'd upon us a necessity of offending, what? doth she so much imitate Juno's Tyranny, as to commit us to the rout, more glaz'd with eyes than centocular Argus? Certainly she consults better the good of Mankind, and hath not so far gratifi'd Momus in his design, as that what­soever is transacted in the inmost recesses and retirements of the Soul, should be publickly legible on the frontispeice of the Face. I ap­peal to the delicate and soft Alcibiades's of this age, whose smoother brow, and unruffled aspect, the learned civility of whose clothes and garments, have always pleaded for the tu­mults of the mind, and for the unruly crowd of their impetuous affections. I should ascribe his faults to the necessity of Fate, who dis­covers them to the world by his gate and meen. Let every man choose what gestures he please to be his Advocate; and there is scarce any one so wretchedly guilty, as to want the defence, and Apology of his Body. The Elegance of Greece hath commended the ru­der Barbarisms of monstrous Africa; and see­ing various humors are oftentimes couch'd, and lie hid under the same shape and visage, the Judgment of Spectators must needs be uncertain, and the Station of Spies be [Page 129]treacherous and deceitful. How have the Fires of Love rag'd and prey'd on mens breasts within, and yet that burning Aetna hath made no change or breach on the face without; so that Cupids flames (like subtle lightning) have dissolved the mettle and hath left the Scabbard whole and inviolable! how often hath the wantonness of Venus been sporting in the veins, when the Severity of Mars hath sate on the brow, whose objurgatory looks have been so tetrical, as that they personate Cato, though Maudlin drunk. Those excel­lent Creatures, which (like so many Pictures) Nature hath drawn for the diversion of Man, that ugly Viper hath animated them to their ruine, and those charms, that flatter into ex­pectation of a delicate Hellen, cheats with the enjoyment of a lewd Lucretia.

Who would expect such rare jewels from Aesop or a Gold-finder? or who looks for Majesty from Vespasium? they vizard them­selves in countenances unlike themselves, so that you discover, or read nothing in the face but what is vulgar; for their Souls not regar­ding the Nobility of their Extraction, dwell in counterfeit Mansions below their Dignity, as Galba's Ingenuity had but a bad lodging. The Soul doth so withdraw it self from the sight of men, and enjoys the secrecy of so pri­vate [Page 130]a retirement, as that no wit can torture it into the confession of its Nature, which is a mistery, and a riddle that lies hid from all Men. What therefore? is it condemned to solitude! should it never lay open, and display it self; there have been gestures, and postures of Body, whereby the mind was wont (as it were) to speak and to shew it self, and to shine (as it were) with certain raies, and to render it self conspicuous to the eyes of others: But (O sad!) they were all so counterfeit and feigned, that after the disguises of such fictitious looks, and so many vizors of lying aspects, who but a Priamus, or a man prodi­gal of his Faith can believe any more? one acts a Mimick, another a Player. All men imitate and personate all things; and those gestures which were only promoted by Na­tures dictates, are now inculcated, and taught by the rules of Art. We have prov'd our selves the genuine off-spring of our true Fa­ther, and are capable of a Metamorphosis; so that if an Alemena be to be won, we are presently Amphitruo'd, who cannot imitate a Philosopher in the words of Hercules? who cannot make his breast as immoveable as a Rock? and his Soul as Stoical as any Picture? What Socratick Catamite, and filthy Miscre­ant cannot blush at the name of fulsome [Page 131]Vice? and cannot devoutly defend the cause of distressed and exil'd Vertue, so as to be thought a cherisher and patron of Goodness; and not only the charmes and beauty of love­ly Vertue, and the calmer smoothness of gen­tle Manners, but (like turning Scenes) can re­present the deformities of ugly Vice, and the rougher turbulencies of unruly Affections; can at their pleasure be transported with Love or Anger, Joy or Hatred, and whatsoever Passions are created by Nature, the same they can per­sonate and feign by Flattery. How often do we meet with humble Servants, and yet the num­ber of our Family is not yet increas'd? how do they invade us with insinuations of sapple crin­ges, with elaborate Phrase, and with the pro­testations of almost a swearing countenance, so that nothing less can be expected than a trans­fusion of themselvees into our very bosoms, and a close mixture and marriage of our Souls. Behold the Parasite! how he struts abroad! who being well furnish't with his garbs, exposes to sale his various postures, and with some importunity demands what is't you'd have? If his Friend weep, he sheds a tear; if he says he is hot, he presently sweats; he mingles his smiles with his laughter, and trembles and shakes with his fears. Not the twins of Hippo­crates are more alike. They are alwayes mov'd [Page 132]by the same Passions, and (like certain jewels) oftentimes languish with each others disease. They are sick and well in the jucture. He is very obsequious to every nod, and reflects (like a looking glass) and represents to thee the image of thine own self. Thus his tears stand Centinel, and his gestures (if comman­ded) are ready upon the guard to make a Sal­ly. Perhaps in minority, when the Soul liv'd under a Democracie of Passions, nor had sworn allegiance to the Government of Reason, then restless commotions and an inundation of Li­centiousness overflow'd all things; But now Reason is in the throne, and hath obtained the Empire, such Liberty and Exorbitance will soon vanish; the Affections are subdued, and Nature her self is almost become a trophie; both looks and gestures are charm'd to a com­plyance with all occasions; neither can we sooner be transform'd by Circe, than by Rea­son. Whatsoever whirlwinds do bluster in the Soul, whatsoever storms do roar, yet the mouth breaths a Zephyrus and softer gales, and if reason require it, an enrag'd Soul will not so much even as threaten a damage. I appeal to those unhappy wretches, whom the pleasant cruelty of their Prince (like the dan­gerous calm of a flattering Sea) as often as it would involve the miserable in destruction, [Page 133]compels the unhappy to feign themselves bles­sed, and to hide the clowdiness of their Souls and their sorrows within, with serenity of their aspects and joy without. Thus sick and sad, as if they had eaten Sardoan roots, they laugh on the confines and threshold of death; and so every man defends himself by the con­spiracie of his countenance, and at Rome they owe to their faces their life and safety.

'Tis happily contriv'd by Nature, that the whole bulk of our affections can be supprest by reason, that we can check them when we please, and sometimes (as we list) may loosen their reins; and may restrain some within the limits of our breast, and discover those on our foreheads, which the occasion shall re­quire. If we should commit our selves whol­ly to their guidance, and altogether be obe­dient to their commands, into what Precipices would they hurl us: they would certainly betray us into all dangers, and whilst they fu­riously rage like so many Aeoli (those Sub­jects of the air) they would utterly take from us the Sea and the Earth, nay and Heaven too. But the delicate Matrons of this age have prudently been aware of this Evil, who call a Committee about the accurate disposing of each single hair, and dispence not a nod with­out Counsel, they suffer not the petulancy of a [Page 134]rowling eye, unless made authentick and war­ranted by a publick Edict; nor do they budge a foot without meascure; they counterfeit Nature, and are so besmear'd and plaistered with Ointment and Pomatum, that the face seeks for it self and cannot find it. Let them be guilty of what fault they will, I am sure they grow not pale at any crime; but are fortifi'd (as it were) with a brazen wall, and remain imperious even to the eyes of Linx.

Neither is the passage more easie into a Courtiers breast, who doth so wholly devote himself to the humor of the times, as that he almost forgets his proper Genius: 'tis not Nature and Inclination but Custome that sug­gests his apparel and gesture; both Tyrium and Trojan are clad alike without any distincti­on, and when they walk they move so with the same Soul, that you would think them poppets. But there is a vain sort of men of a severe brow, who condemn these persons of Folly, and brand the whole Court with the same Infamy; and indeed justly, if we liv'd in Plato's Common-wealth, or under Ʋtopian Government; But we must consult, the age, and our present customes. No man safely strives against the stream, and he doth too haughtily despise the present times, who scru­ples [Page 135]with a blush, and is ashamed to be mad. He may depart the world, whose Vertues would keep him from its Customs and Fashi­ons.

Who will hereafter declare his guess? who will suffer his Judgment to be deceiv'd again? now dissimulation triumphs, and hath con­quered and possesseth the whole world. Now every one counterfeits what gesture he pleases, every one wears what habit he will, and there are many ignorant Souls in a learned habit, and many (as I may say) ungownd minds in that long robe. Who will not therefore al­wayes confess his ignorance? who will not blush to own that he knows any thing? by a certain Law we know not these things, and seeing we are forbidden by Nature to un­derstand, 'tis not so much our crime to be ignorant as 'tis our duty; neither is it so much obedience, as necessity.

DECLAM. VI. Whether Aristotle did well in censuring that saying of Bias the Philosopher [Love as if you was about to Hate] No.

IF the Friendship of the Peripateticks was as safe and secure, as 'tis pleasant and de­lightful, I am perswaded 'twould be as much in publick like other Vertues, as 'tis now private and solitary; for what Felicity doth it create to humane Souls? behold! the same desires and humors do lodg only in different breasts! an accessory Consciousness to every secret, and dialogues interwoven with min­gled Souls, do ravish and delight with such bewitching transports, as that not only the weak and silly, but even men prudent and se­vere are captivated by its charm.

But there are so many coverts and retire­ments in humane breasts, and 'tis so unsafe a thing to confide in any man, that I know not whether the Friendship of Aristotle, con­sisting of the innocent simplicity of a mutual [Page 137]Passion, and of an universal exchange of all Affections, I say I know not whether 'tis ra­ther an Infirmity, than a Vertue, and not so much our comfort as our ruine; for we that live in Tiberius's dayes must Christen dissi­mulation with the name of Vertue, and so to act the parts of Friendship, as not utterly to forget our Prudence. For there are some that have a subtle knack in counterfeiting Vice and feigning Vertue, that have a disposition changeable into every Affection, and smooth­ly sliding into the Souls of men, endeavour to pry out and find their guilt; and in this they abuse the name of Friendship, that they are alwaies fear'd, but never lov'd.

There are others, who are never more to be dreaded, than when they laugh, who never lay aside the disguise of Severity, but when 'tis expedient; whose clowdy browes never clear up into a serenity of smiles, unless they can gain by such calm Sunshine; wherefore least our Innocency should be trap'd in such snares, it may be very convenient to think of a storm in the midst of a calm, and to em­brace the advice of the sage Philosopher, who bids us [Love so as if we were about to Hate] men slowly complain of those things, which have befa [...]n them through their own default, and Folly is attended with this evil, it alwayes [Page 138]upbraids; therefore least Temerity with its [I had not thought] should rather be a Tor­ment, than an Enjoiment, and more grieve than comfort us; I fancy it the wisest, and the safest piece of Dotage so to temper our Love, as to savour more of Judgement, than Affection, and so to deal and canton our per­sons to others, as to reserve a portion for our own selves, whether we consider men them­selves, or the danger of the thing it self. 'Tis scarce so pleasant to find a Friend, as 'tis mi­serable to be deceiv'd in him. If we con­template the several ages of men, we shall find that Minority and Rawness excludes Chil­dren from the Solemnity of so sacred a league, and not so much Peevishness and Morosity, as Covetousness debars and keeps off the Aged; they mind nothing but wealth, they negoti­ate in Friendship and gain by their traffick, and love not any man, but when it costs them nothing. I would willingly admit men in­to the most inward retirements and recesses of Friendship, if they would either love more or be less wise; for as Affection abates as the Judgment increases, thus youthful heats cool at maturity; and though the fervor and violence of their Passions suffer young men to enter into the embraces of Friendship, yet heady Rashness and an unweary dispensation of their [Page 139]Affections, will drive them from those sacred [...]les, and things acted with heat and violence are not so firm and stable, as those, that are done with deliberation of a mature Judgement: Juvenile Affections have shorter periods, whose impetuous boilings will easily ferment them­selves into a sudden calm; they are for the most part charm'd with the likeness of Plea­sures, and are rather jocund among themselves than passionate, as Geminus and Sejanus were mutual Friends in Luxury and Softness.

Thus are mens ages besieg'd on all sides with these difficulties, and if we shall further consider the manners of men, which they have fram'd to themselves, we shall easily perceive there is a great necessity of believing our selves, and of not confiding in any body else.

The first sort of men that occurr are those, who as oft as we meet with them, rise up up­on their legs, and by the pleasantness of their gestures are dissolved and melted almost into kisses and embraces; they are ready to skip out of themselves, neither complain they of Injuries received from those they love. No­thing fitter for Society, than these men, if we were born for nothing, but to sleep and revel. They have somewhat of a jovial Gaie­ty, an allowable Innocence in him, who is permitted either to play the fool, or mad­man; [Page 140]for he must be either the one or the other, who doth so lavishly congratulate, and is so profuse in his fawnings.

But there are others in the second place, who have more sober Affections, and have a kindness for all, proportioning themselves to every one by weight and measure: their discourse is obliging, and their deportment insinuating, neither their aspect Satyrical, nor language severe; they speak Panegyricks, and dare not discharge a jest even against the most enormous crime. Nothing fitter for civi­lities than such Natures, they are obsequious to every man, and being averse to quarrelling are Enemies to no one; they never sport or toy with their Wits, but are so solicitous and careful about their Gall, that they are al­together void of, and are without Salt — But give me a Friend with whom I may dis­play the Urbanities of a jocund humor, and beguile the tediousness of the hours with the pinquunt facetiousness of smart Jests: but how­ever in regard they are harmless, such dis­positions may please whether amongst Friends or Enemies; but because they study to deserve and caresse so coldly; as that they neither love nor are beloved, and as they have most delicate ears, so the unhappy event of one cruel joke, will scare them out of Company.

There is a third sort of people, who vo­luntarily exclude themselves from the pre­cincts of Friendship, whilst they only speak for fear of others, and if they accost any one, seem rather to commit theft, than to weave [...] Dialogue: they discourse softly History and Annals, and whisper Edicts and Acts of Par­liament, and (like Cinna in the Epigram) they commend the Prince in your ear, they praise the invention of letters, and the acri­monious moisture of tart Citron, and (if pos­sible) without voice, or Books, would rather shew what they would have, than speak it: and these are so suspicious, that they are scarce secure even from themselves; because truth loves to be seen and seeks no corners, I am apt to believe therefore that there is no sound Affection in such private tempers; they are silly wasps of mankind, who from every Company suck poyson.

There are opposite to these other Persons, who are as free and open, as they were pri­vate and reserv'd men of a chrystal and trans­parent breast, who have cribrous sides, and are full of chinks, from whom whatsoever is put in, either through the easiness of Nature, or softness of Humor, doth leak out. Who or what these persons are, not Apollo himself, with his whole quire of Muses can declare [Page 142]unto us; they have an Extempore way of living, neither do they perform those things they thought on, but those, which they have popt on; and act not so much by conside­ration as chance, and if they offend, 'tis rather out of weakness than choice, out of in­firmity rather than Judgment: and (like Fabius in Livy) are rather inconstant in good than diligent in evil. And as they are wild and talkative, so they often discover some grains of salt, some Specimens of Ingenuity, which are rather the Products of the Madness of their Brain, than of the Acuteness and Easi­ness of their Wits. Somewhat of kin to these are those, who are inspired with Eloquence only at Feasts and taverns, who never cleer up into laughter, but when they sup abroad. These seem to be born on purpose for Satur­nalia? they spend their time in much Festi­vity, but withall they live in jolly Gluttony. No man begins a story more happily, or com­mends the treatment more lavishly. What news? he receives at the gates original Ru­mors, neither need any one tell him the por­tents of a Comet, or in what breast the Spani­ard will sheath his sword: But if these persons are driven out of the road of their common discourse, then their fluency engendered at other mens trenchers forsakes and leaves them, [Page 143]and then they begin to be tedious, who on­ly maintain their tongues in obedience to their bellies; and now amidst such infinite variety of Humors and Tempers, who dare unbutton his Breast, and unbosome his Soul, and lay himself naked to the conscience of every man? who would not be censur'd and accus'd for Temerity, whom the Perfidiousness of others should thus unwarily overwhelm? though fortunate and happy Love hath blessed thee with a Friend free from these Evils so com­mon to Mortals, one in thy Opinion fit for the misteries and secrecies of private Counsels, yet thou knowst not what a day may bring forth: there are vicissitudes in Love, Truces and En­mities, Wars and Peace, and though the wounds of offended Majesty may be sometimes healed; yet they so close as to leave a scar behind them, as a monument of the Injury; so that there may still remain a jarring Harmony, and grudges more dangerous, than open Animo­sities. A fracture in a joint will hardly be set, and abreach in an Union so close and intimate will be scarcely soder'd. Fraternal hatred is becom a Proverb, and 'tis a Maxime, that most implacable Emnities are betwixt those of a blood.

Thus you see tis not safe to be too much a companion, but sometimes destructive; for who [Page 144]is there that understands men, and who is a sagacious diver into humane Souls? I say amidst the insinuating caresses and blandish­ments of Lovers, as exchang'd hands, mutu­al Embraces, and reciprocal Sighs, Protesta­tions and Oaths, who dare, I say, rather pro­mise or assure himself of Fidelity, than deceit and snares? certainly more innocent and harmless Souls have been often circumvented by specious pretences and appearances of Af­fection, and such impostures are so much the more rife, by how much the more securely they can cheat and cozen. Who would have thought any Treachery lurk't under that vi­zard of Friendship between Firmius Catus and his dear Libo, who was his Associate in Luxu­ry, Debt and Lust too? who would have suspected Falshood in the Familiarity between Lactiaris and Sabinus? Love and Affection the most simple things in the world are both ensnar'd, and Libo and Sejanus are destroyed by those from whom they expected the grea­test Safety. Wicked Latiares occur every where, who after the greatest Profession of the sincerest Love do entrap Mortals in their un­wary discourses; they are the worst kind of Enemies, for whom we cannot be prepared in War, and against whom we cannot be se­cure in Peace; vomica & carcinomata humani [Page 145]generis born only for the publick evil, wor­thy to sail in Trajans boat, being Piacular victims of intestine Wars, Slaughters, De­solations, and seeing they are hated as much by them, whom they prosit, as by those whom they accuse, let them suffer punishment with the same pain, they procure it. Men can never be cautious enough at all times; and I fear a man can never be suspicious enough about their Examples, from whose end there can never be faithful security.

DECLAM. VII. Whether the decay and Periods of Em­pires are to be ascrib'd to Fate?

WHat? when Fortune suspends the gui­dance of the world, does it then be­gin to shake and totter? Is the Universe Go­vern'd by the Fortuitous turnings and teme­rarious courses of blind chance? 'tis unsea­sonable impiety that disturbs and tortures E­picurus his Ghost; we follow not the con­duct [Page 146]of the Heavens, neither do we lead our lives according to the Government of the Stars. All things are establish't in certain Periods, and we are all rul'd by the preor­dain'd Counsels of impendent Fates. Behold! the Funerals and remaining Ashes of the chie­fest Monarchies! a purple'd Emperor crow­ded into the narrowness of a little Urn! see! the posthumor rubbish of mouldred Cities, and the noisome carcases of numerous Armies! one hour will sacrifice a thousand Myriads to the shades below. See! this is the ratified decree of the stubborn Destinies.

He that in the volumes of the Heavens hath read the Nativities of Kingdoms, and hath consulted the Stars, midwifeing it at the Birth of an Infant Empire, I say, such a man may by a certain Augury foretel the Fatal Period of a dying Nation as well as if he had studied the dismal Annals of the cruel Fates, or as if the Gods had inform'd him by the Em­bassy of their Agent, I mean their Mercury. When a Comet slames with its direful beams, and when the Deities have set up their fune­ral Torches, who suspects not the death of a King at hand? surely they kindle those bla­zing Lamps to discover the untrodden way of Princes to Bliss, or rather they are Festival Lights, Solemn Bon-fires, made by the Gods [Page 147]to congratulate their Instalment into their pleasant Paradice.

There is nothing in the world more august than Majesty; 'tis a personated Deity, and is inscrib'd with Divinity. How sacred is that head that supports a Crown! how holy that Person that's attir'd with reverend and mo­dest Purple? yet those that celebrate mag­nificent Nativities, and more solemn Obse­quies, tell us, that even Caesars themselves are born and die as we do; Nature hath made them of nobler mould, but yet one spark of a Feaver, one dram of Poison will soon di­spatch them from the Elements, and send them on an Errand into another world. How slippery is the top of fickle Fortune! how steep and declining is Honours Precipice? how whirling and unsteady are the Pinnacles and Battlements of Potent Empires! The haughty Sun that now culminates in the Ze­nith with his whole Orb of Light, after a few minutes declines towards his western Grave; and the Lamps of Heaven are all kind­led to inflame the magnificence of his Fu­neral; and thus the constitutions of Em­pires are brittle and uncertain. An ambi­tious cloud through the propitious serenity of a smiling day, aspires aloft, and climbs the air, which being disquieted and tost by [Page 148]the ruder winds, melts into tears, and weeps it self down into the lower Region; and such is the downsal of the greatest Dignity.

Fancy Alexander the Lord of the Earth, and the universal Monarch of all Nature; I say, Fancy him on a Throne begirt with a ring of numerous Guards; Fancy the whole race of mankind to be listed into one Mace­donian Army! and then I pray, what rustick Deity can be so uncivil as to dethrone the King, to uncrown his brow without incur­ring the guilt of horrid Treason? yet after all this Pomp, after a few years he yields to Fate, at the dissolution of whose Empire, are born many petty Principalities, as the Stars do ap­pear and rise at the Suns Funeral. Why should I mention the Tragical Catastrophe's of expiring Kingdoms. The whole Uni­verse hastens and inclines to the West, and we, whom Nature hath reserv'd to the last twilight of the setting world, I say, we must undergo the extream vicissitudes of all things, when the Universal contexture shall be all un­ravell'd, and the series of time shall have run to its last sand. I wonder at the quietness of Students in so great a whirlwind and hurry of Business, who despise the Vanities and Trifles of Wealth and Honours, and en­quire not so much as what the world is do­ing without their Studies.

DECLAM. VIII. Ʋnity doth preserve a City.

SO Divine are the advantages, so charming the Beauties, and so prevalent the Pow­er and Force of Unity, that 'tis the very Life and Soul, the very Flame and Spirit that actuates, that gives briskness to every thing. If all Strife was condemn'd to the shades below, and this kinder Deity would converse with men here in this light above, I know not what golden ages, what pleasant Elisium's 'twould procure to Mortals, nay (to speak more boldly) an Eternal world, but as the Philosopher tells us, if the Sun should be bu­ried in an Eclipse, and be exiled from his Orb, the day would be extinguish't, and die into darkness, and the obscure Globe of the wid­dowed Moon would flie and vanish into winds and showers: and thus, if concord should be banish't from this Sublunary Scene, and Friendship ostracism'd out of this inferiour world, and the golden chain of Unity should be unlink't and broken; how soon would this beauteous contexture be all unravelled [Page 150]into its first Chaos, the unpropt Heavens would want an Atlas; Kingdoms would moulder into dust and rubbish; and Princes vanish into air and shades; there would be either no Empires at all, or very vain ones like heads in Pictures without brains. In vain would the Heavens slatter themselves with the hopes of a long duration of inviolable Stars and uncorrupted ages, if they did not harmoniously accord within themselves, and all discord being divore'd of the wrangling Qualities, if by a happy marriage they were not united to their matter and among them­selves too.

The daily dissolution we see in things, and their continual hastning to their last period, proceeds meerly from Strifes and Contests. The Elements do mutually engage at cuffs, and as it were studiously bent on each others ruine, do box it stoutly till death do part them. Neither can we mortals boast a grea­ter Safety, who through Wars and Contenti­ons do rush upon our Fate with winged speed. Death would every where be esteem'd but a Fable and Phantasm, a very valn and tri­vial Deity, if men would accord within them­selves, and enter into a strict League of mu­tual Charity. For no life so happy or (as if emulous of Heaven) comes nearer the Na­ture [Page 151]of the Gods above, than where there is a recipocal Harmony of wills and desires, and (if possible) a mixture of Souls. The most impregnable Bulworks, nay the Sinews of a Nation, even money it self, cann't so forti­fie a City, as the mutual Kindness, and Love of Citizens. No engins whatsoever, nay the tutelar Deities themselves can't be Talismans sufficient for the defence of that place, which is not blessed with the sacred Genius of Una­nimity. For how doth it lie open even to an unarmed man, when fermenting and boiling with intestine fends it contends against it self, and is its own Enemy! to how great dangers both of Rocks and Waves is that vessel expo­sed, which amidst bussling storms and the ga­ping Ocean (as it were for the pastime of the winds) is distracted with the contrary vi­olence of divers pilots! and certainly to no less hazards is obnoxious that City, whose Inhabitants disagreeing among themselves, and being of various tempers, do exchange their Peace and Quiet for bloody brawls and inhumane Slaughters. That, either shelves and quick sands, this, either its self, or its Enemies will overwhelm with ruine. As a dismal instance of this sad Event, I appeal to that fortified City of Regium, so besieg'd on all sides with strength and Bulworks, that it stood [Page 152]impregnable against all invasion, and bafled the assaults even of the God of war: But when once it began to groan under intestine Animosities, with what winged speed did it [...]lie to ruine, and how soon did it drop into dust and rubbish? how many Ghosts did the civil Wars dismiss to the shades below! how did they tire the Destinies with repeated Funerals! and weary the boat of re [...]less Charon? and at last, with what Facility did the besieg'd, their strength being most decay'd by a long League, I say, how soon did they raze the City, and drew about it their hostile plow? and there­fore (O Rome!) not an Army of mountains can promise thee unshaken wals, or a safe Ca­pitol, so long as thou framest to thy self Tro­jan horses, whilst Private Catilines with fire and sword invade the Senate.

There is no speedier way to Spoils and Tro­phies, than when (Swords and Souls as it were conspiring) all men level at the same end. Nothing sooner blocks up the passage of an invading Enemy, than twisted Counsels and breasts united in one common Harmony. Not numerous Xerxes, a General more formi­dable than any Encelladus, at whose sight the very Sun absconded and Nature totter'd, whose Army sip't up the Ocean, and whose Arrows Heaven; I say, this terrible Warriour [Page 153]could not one jot prevail, either with fire or sword, against united Greece; for that all com­manding Diety, Love, soon scatter'd his Forces better than the strength of any Engine. What unprofitable darts did that grim aspect of war shoot and level? how was the sword bran­dish't in vain? neither could any Arm, or the God of war himself do any thing.

Let us reflect on our age, and take a survey of this Kingdom! what serene dayes have we enjoyed here! how, to the envy of ages and nations, without camp or sword, hath our Bri­tain flourish't! and I hope will for ever enjoy an undisturbed peace! we congratulate our Unity, Peace, Laws, Judges, Flamines, Tem­ples, Cities, Academies, and whatsoever is sacred or august in this our England. What Elegancies are legible and inscrib'd on the fa­brick of the body? what charms are conspi­cuous in each part, and what Divinities are scattered in every member! how in vain doth the Dotage of the year discover its horyness in Ice and Frosts, and with what fruitless flames do the Stars burn; seeing it can establish to it self an amicable concord, and harmoni­ous temper; whereas let but the disagreeing Principles of things contend and squobble, and how swiftly do they hasten to their ruine?

Thus Cities grow, and great wealth is pre­served, [Page 154]and a little increased by Concord; but Discord diminisheth the most pompous riches, and utterly razeth the most opulent Towns. Those things are most durable, which are most one and united; and all things covet an Eternity, and are ambiti­ous of Immortality. Thus stones stick most closely in their several Parts; water crowds into a globe least it should perish by division; if any thick body be laid upon it, it is advan­ced upward, and (I know not by what in­stinct) preserves it in an abiding state, in re­gard the parts will not be separated from their parts; for all separation is fatal to things that are alike. Particles of water falling on the pavement of a smooth table, appear and shew themselves tumid and globular, neither will be demolish't into flatness by the shaken board. But if other portions of the Element be added to them, then one drop hath a mind to, and de­fires another, and then they are as it were immediately married and mutually incorpo­rated, assisting each other against the hostili­ties of the air, and the violence of the surface on which they fell, least they should be de­stroied by them. All which do as it were with a vocal stilness whisper and suggest and as so many mute Doctors do proclaim by their filence, what a guard inviolable Concord and [Page 155]Unity uniterrupted by Strifes and emulous of Eternity hath indulged to Nature.

But now, if Nations owe their Cities, (those Souls of Kingdoms) and Scepters to Love and Amity, and are more safely begirt with a guard of hearts, than of swords or hands, or if these sublunary things in the ab­sence of this Deity, should be presently in­volv'd in a sudden destruction, neither Na­ture her self, nor the World, no, nor the Deities themselves could prorogue their Eter­nity: If this is the happyest boon and the safest benefit that Nature ever bestowed on mankind, I wish all things lucky and pros­perous to all men; and tis the sum of my de­sires that this our Parnassus may eternally flou­rish with the beauteous harmony of Counsels, Arts and Souls; and above all names, thrice holy be to us that innocent and propitious Genius of Unity and Concord; but as for Strife and Discord, let them for ever be condemn'd to the lower Regions, and be a vexation to the Furies amongst which they were bred! let Envy be banisht to the infernal shades whose poysonous Nature blasts by infection its neighbours Fame, least it should survive and increase its leaness. Be gone all ye cla­morous detractors with your virulent tongues, who are arm'd with the points and stings of [Page 156]Satyrs, or pointed with the stings of Satyrs, whose weapons are tincttur'd with the blood of Vipers; who never think themselves more content and quiet, than when they wrangle and brawl with the greatest disquietude! let fraternal Animosities die and vanish! let it be no longer proverbial that most implacable En­mity arises from blood! let us not, as if born so many Catilines against our Rome promote domestick fewds, or civil discord, but let all our Studies, Muses, Souls and desires conspire in this one thing, that these our mansions may ever enjoy the blessing of peace to the in­crease of Piety, Concord, Vertue and Unity.

DECLAM. IX. Whether the Senses can err, or be decei­ved, when conversant about their pro­per objects? Affirm'd.

HOw is humane Understanding inwrapt in darkness? how is that Diviner frag­ment of a Rational Soul benighted as it were in the mists of Error! that off-spring of Jove that constitutes men, nay Dignifies them with the Essence almost of Gods, I say, how is it invelop'd in clouds of Ignorance! the too fre­quent infirmities and failures of craz'd and distempr'd heads, and that variety of danger to which every year, age, and lives of all men are casually exposed, are too ample demon­strations of this truth.

Behold! A discription of an Epicure. here's one born for the Luxury of a banquet! see! another. Sardanapalus, whose very Nature is calulated for a festival entertain­ment. He Deifies a Kitchin, and adores the ingenuity of a pallatable dish, and is prostrate to a table groaning under the varieties of Am­brosian [Page 158]delicacies. He looks upon that to be the flower of being, and as it were the Life and Soul of Life, which lies melted and dis­solved in the midst of Junkets even to the nau­seating of the plenty of loath'd dainties. He never thinks he fares deliciously unless his riot doth invert the season, and he crown his goblet with winter Roses; unless Falernian dissolve the Summer Snow in his cup of Pearl, and a strange Fowl of an unknown sky, or an exotick Fish of a forreign shore are the constant messes of his curious meals. He increases the thirsty Avarice of his silver drop­sie with golden naps, being laborious even be­yond Cleanthes for self and money. He fancies to himself I know not what kind of Chime­cal happiness to arise even from his very poc­kets, and had rather be a Craesus or a Midas, than a Saturn or a Jove in their respective Heavens.

He loves to be seen in a crowd or throng, and then thinks he most happily sets up his plumes, when his sweaty singers are hoop'd with a Summer ring.

Every wish aims at Empire, and he is high­ly smitten with and dotes on Monarchy. Whilst his Soul is involv'd in clouds of Error, it is a very ill Judge of things, wherefore he, ambitiously breathing after that Fortune, which the higher it is, it is the more unstable, and through the anger of the Fates sinks and falls with a greater ruine.

So purblind are the minds and understan­dings of men, that it oftentimes embraces fal­sities for truths, and (whilst we too silly do follow its guidance and conduct) it doth varnish, and adulterate evil into good; where­with we are not only unwarily deceived, but sometimes ensnared into our own ruine; and can by no means promise the raies of the Moon and Stars to be kept inviolable, if a bolder cloud and impudent darkness should invade the Sun; neither can it be hop'd that those streams should be clear and chrystall, which derive a filthiness from the very Fountain.

The Will seems to be darkned by the borrowed errours of the Understanding; if therefore these endowments of Immortali­ty, these almost Godlike Powers of the Soul, the Mind and Will, have their failures, false Images and representations of things, we should much offend in ascribing so great a certainty to outward senses, which we have in [Page 160]common with brutes. These guards or cen­tinels are so far from being acute anddex­trous, that their deceptions equal them, and they are guilty of as many Errors as they have Objects. Thus the Stars to the bleerey'd are as so many Giants, and the Moon seems less than every wheel. I shall not insist on phantastick Meteors, which having no ex­istence, are only splendid and gawdy appariti­ons; thus sweets are bitter to the Feaverish Palat. Here is one tickled with the harmony of the Spheres, and there is one offended with the fragrancy of a Rose. The Errors of the Senses are so frequent and familiar, that it is not worth while to insist any longer upon them.

DECLAM. X. Whether Monarchy be the best Form of Government.

SIlence! what confused Noise and Tu­mult is this? How great a concourse of clamorous People! Can we tell what they say, or wherefore they are come to­gether? They cannot tell themselves. Li­berty, Liberty they cry, and they say, they are come to chuse their Governours. Let them set their hearts at rest, and calmly de­part; their Governour is not now to be chosen, since God and Nature, and Law Natural are before hand with them, who have unanimously appointed them a Govern­ment under one Soveraign Governor, whom they call a Monarch: For who brought in other Forms, Aristocracy or Democracy; Let them look back into the Originals of Rule and Government, trace the History of their Ancestors, when the world was not so mad and tumultuous? Do we find Anarchy in the first Ages? Any Field-meetings and tumultuous Inundations of People, which, their banks being broken, furiously drive [Page 162]on and bear all before them? Did God and Nature so ill provide for the world, that they left them at any time without Govern­ment, that men must shift for themselves and be their own Providers of so great a Blessing.

'Tis true, if Mankind had grown out of the Earth like Mushrooms, or spawn'd in­to the world at one instant, if they had been transform'd from Emmets to Myrmidons, or like Frogs and Todpoles, (the only Abori­genes that I know,) had been conceived by the slime of Nile, and from thence, peopled the world, they might then have muttered something of chusing a Governour, if a Peo­ple in the State of a Natural Barbarity and savage life can attain to so much sound rea­son and good insight in Morals as to call for Order and Government, which I much question, since civil Education is one of the benefits of Government: as for Experience, there can be none in our case.

No, Principio rerum, saith the Historian, Gentium Nationumque imperium penes Reges erat. At the beginning the world knew none but Monarchy. Omnes antiquae gentes Regibus quondam paruere, saith the Orator. Not only the East and South Asia and Aegypt, but even Italy, Greece, and the territories thereof, which in after ages admitted Democracy, or Aristo­cratical [Page 163]mixtures, such as Argos, Athens, Sicyon, Lacedemon, were at first governed by Kings, whose names are still preserved in History. For so it is, if we run back the scries of the Generations of the world, as far as the clew will guide us, we shall find that Government was first founded in Families, which mul­tiplying into Tribes, became Townships, then Cities, whence their Dominion growing considerable, discovered to their Neighbours their way of Government, which was by their Natural Prince.

Where then is the Noise? the Liberty that they so cry up, what would they have when they say they are free-born? they do not intend, sure, to do what they list; For if Monarchical Power, as all civil, yea and bar­barous Nations confess, is founded in Pater­nal Power, then it is clear from God and Natures Law, that no man can say, he is free­born from Government, since it is his Go­vernor, who begat him.

Hence the Divine Command, which knew how to express it self, by honouring our Fa­ther and Mother, secures Obedience to their Prince, being literally true in Adam, Noah, Abraham, Israel, that they were Fathers and Princes of their People.

And that the Commonalty may learn what [Page 164]share they had then in Election of their Go­vernour, the first-born, by his Primogeniture, his unquestionable Right, succeeded.

This is the Government, which God and Nature hath appointed; All other Govern­ments are Sophistical, forced devices of Po­litique unpolitique men, lame and imperfect and spurious Models, scarce to be called by the beauteous name of Government, but as they resemble the feature and lineaments of Monar­chy. I know the unhappy conceptions of the inconsiderable Vulgar, who (for want of Education and better Principles) look upon their supreme Governour, as a Nusance to mankind, a person only of an exalted For­tune, living at his ease and splendor (which if they were anatomized, we should find they grudge to all, but themselves) Careless in the mean time of the Law, and the Com­monwealth, with Power to oppress, not to Protect.

But this is a false Character, unreasonably made up by the Envious observers of the fai­lures of the person, who never counterpoise them with the unspeakable benefits we enjoy under Him. The beholder was in the shade and dark side of the Piece: Let him suffer himself to stand in the true light, and he shall discern better Features.

Consider Him, with me, as the Sacred Foun­tain of JUSTICE, a Word not to be writ but in Capital Letters, engraven in a Memory of Marble: Consider Him as the great Soul of the LAW, the Rule and Stan­dard of Justice, and like the Soul, (for that also is a Monarch and hath its juris­diction) exercising vital acts through all, even the remotest parts of his territories, in every Borough, Village, Hamlet, by his inferiour Courts and Officers, without which there is no Life in the Body, no Liberty, no Safety, no Right, nothing that is dear to us shall be enjoyed, nothing that is due to us shall be recovered; All that I am or have shall be at the mercy of another; my estate, whe­ther left me by my Ancestors, or dear gotten by indefatigable industry, carried away with­out remorse; my Cattel driven off my ground, Herbage trod to dirt, Corn fields fired, my Children spirited away, Wife ravished from my armes, my own person dogg'd and way­laid by treacherous miscreants, and for a fa­tal conclusion of all mischiefs, barbarously murdered; my carcass in the mean while bleeding for a Coroner, only my Soul scapes away to complain of the murder.

So that without the Law, I should not live in a Tub, with the Philosopher, but in a [Page 166]Mortar, where every Man may pound me; be­sides that even my fears would daily kill me, as in a distressed vessel in a very tempestuous Sea, men dye every minute, and their hearts sink a thousand times before the vessel is foun­dred.

How blessed a thing is Government, which staves off all these injuries from us? and for­bids them under such severe penalties which none but mad men will incur? How blessed a thing is Law, which brings Safety into the world, and Innocence, the Parent of Safety, under whose protection I enjoy my uncon­fined Liberty, my house is not my prison but my castle, the high-way is my rode, the neighbour meadows are my walks, and the whole land is my market.

These things considered, it is meer stupi­dity not to think of a Governor with honour, and mention him with respect, the Monarch I mean, if Kings prove to be the ancient form, to Them we are obliged for the esta­blishing these Laws, and to none before them.

Where are the Republicans then, is not our Monarchy a Commonwealth? Ingratitude it self cannot deny it? The other Names of Common-wealth counterdistinct to a King­dom, are but a cheat; a delusion of the people [Page 167]with an ambiguous word; for a Common­wealth truly so called, is really found in the Regal Government, as is evident by the Fa­mily, its first rudiment, where the Laws of the master of the house provide for the com­mon good, even for the Servants themselves, according to their Station. But tis true, as it happens in Families, so we often see it in Kingdoms, men are weary of their servi­ces and Freedomes too, when they cannot mend themselves.

For the establishing of Monarchy therefore, let all Patrons of Aristocracie and Demo­cracy know, there are and ought to be many Governors subordinate, yet Soveraignty is set­led in one. One, I say, to avoid division, there­fore hateful because it obstructs the common good, proves the bane of Governor and Peo­ple; Just as if you divide the Natural Body, it perishes; yea one Limb severed from the whole, keeps no life after; but endangers the rest. Not a poor worm divided can sub­sist, its severed pieces may make a shew of life and struggle for a while, but they never unite again, an Army divided needs no other foe, it countermines and dissipates it self.

Trace we therefore the Footsteps of Di­vine and Humane Wisdome, and we shall find by way of prevention, one Head in the [Page 168]Natural Body, and one Head in the Poli­tique, one Paterfamilias, one Husband, one Prince, one General, one Pilot. What is the Lion in the Forrest but the Prince of his ter­ritories, the Master Bee (King or Queen we will not dispute) but the Monarch of the hive, the Sun in the Firmament, the Gover­nour, the leader, the Choragus of all the Stars. God has made Monarchy to flare in our eyes, in Heaven it self, there is One Chief­tain, and how much more ought there to be on earth, seeing in earth, we have many giddy Planets, who will go direct and retrograde and how they please.

May we not add, the Lord of the Universe is but One, nay, that his perfection lies in that he is but One, two chiefs are as absurd as two infinites, certainly all Majesty is seated in Unity, Divided Government makes no shew, there is Majesty in the prospect of a vast mountain, and none in a hundred molehils.

And what news is it to tell the world, even from that one head of the antiquity of Mo­narchy, that the Earthly Monarch is constitu­ted by the Heavenly, ordeined to be his De­puty, a Vice-Roy to him, reigning in his stead? Weak People, God help us, we are not willing our duty should be demonstrated to us, we would have all obligation to be at pleasure and [Page 169]indifferent, but yet tis this Divine Deputation which only exalts and sets him on his true base, ennobles the Governour, not his Per­son or his Nature (for with the poor rusticks leave, he is a man like us) but his Relation to that Soveraign Power, far above all Princi­pality, whose very adumbrations require our honour, subjection being due to his Institu­tions,

And least the Republican should plead igno­rance, let us shew him how this Relation is made known, more especially in Successive, the only true Monarchy: Even by that very Succes­sion, when Heaven is pleased to commend to us a Prince descended of Princes, and that by an Immemorial descent, willing to signalize a Family and perpetuate the stream of Blood Royal from age to age; Beside Personal Majesty, not assumed, but inherent, Roy­al Clemency, Gracious and Peaceable Tem­per, to which we must add a Testimony from Heaven, Miraculous gifts of Healing entailed upon the Blood: So is the Lions Prerogative manifested by his pace and aspect, and the pre­sidence of the Bee by his size and wing.

So that we ought to hear no more of that infidel objection, That the King is but One, and therefore cannot be greater than his thou­sands of his People: the answer is bold to say, [Page 170]He stands for GOD; so that though he is One, he is found in the place of millions, and according to true Arithmetick, if we trie nu­meration aright, he is of more value then the subsequent numbers.

Let the King therefore be chief in Gods name, and then view his lovely train of No­bles, Dukes, Earls, Viscounts, Marquesses, Barons, Knights, Judges, Gentry, to take no notice of the Ecclesiastical state, How transporting is the prospect, how beautiful and stately is the inclosure, a Garden deckt with flowers Imperial, distributed in their Beds, where by the variety of their Colours, in field ARgent, Or, Gules, Verl, they delight and distract the eye (while we the poor com­mons are the humble Grass-plots of the place) All with the Heliotrope, worshiping the Soveraign, who gives life and spirit to us by day, and refreshes us with his dews by night.

What of this have we in a Democracy; Go to the Roman; First, a goodly pair of Con­fuls, then two or three hundred Patricians, over them a Censor to take their names, yea and estates too; a Praetor, a Tribune two or three or more according as they can speed in the scuffle of Elections, a Scavenger Aedile &c.

We will not anatomize the Belgie Estates, [Page 171]nor yet the Venetian Optimacy, we hear of the number of their Clarissimo's: All that we say is, they have a blot in their Escocheon, a great di­minution of Honor on this very account of the plurality of Governors. Tis more honoura­ble to be governed by One, more honorable both to Governor, and Subject also; the first, that a Monarch is more Noble then any, ap­pears by this, that He to whom singly the whole is committed, is more Honoured than those Many to whom it is jointly entrusted, as clear, as that the Whole is greater than the Part, so that is dispatched. More honourable even for the Subject, the People governed; for there­by they get the name of a peaceable, tracta­ble, wise and intelligent people, who, come the worst that can be imagined (and what­soever can be imagined, will be objected by turbulent persons) had rather suffer ill than act it, rather wait upon the will of Heaven, than throw themselves into hurry and confusion, Confusion being a plague not to be found in Hell it self, not to be lookt upon without horror by all who have known or heard of its dismal acts on the late English Pharsalia, an infatuation greater then any other, which can befal a People, greater then Lunacie, Mania, or whatever species there are of distracted wits, in a miserable, mer­ciless [Page 172]People. A Clarissimo is an honourable person perhaps, in his own precinct, but abroad, he is to seek. A person loyal to his Prince is honoured wheresoever he comes, all forreign­ers do welcome him to their coasts. For the world hath no notion of that Honour, which men cut out to themselves, pitiful glow-worms, who shine by night, rotten sticks that look il­lustriously, but in a blind corner. So of old the ignoble Romans having excluded their King, degraded their Nation, (a just punishment for all such hotheaded Innovators; whose Honour spreads no further then their Arms would hew their way) being therefore, no question, assaulted by Kings and Princes, Pyr­rhus, Mithridates, &c. and because they could not brook the so prosperous increase of so contemptible a government.

For let me ask them, why, I pray, two Consuls? Rome was not founded by two Consuls, Cannot the same power which foun­ded it, preserve it? why must authority be bro­ken, piece-meal, which as all other good things, are best, Intire: In all Fractures, some­thing must needs fall to the ground, some minute parts, at least. Two heads are better than one in Counsel, not in Government, we plead not for a head without eyes, Counsel overthrows not Monarchy, but establishes it, [Page 173]though by the way it is observed also, that Counsel, if too numerous, is inconvenient for resolution, as multiplicity of Commentators obscure the text.

To proceed, Two heads are unnatural, a mon­strous Government, an Amphibaena in Politiques; therefore monstrous, because they take it to be a Serpent with two heads, discharging poi­son at both orifices; nor can Two be one po­litique head so easily, there are difficulties in the Politic as in the Natural Union. For what if Appius Coecus thinks himself as wise as Volumnius, &c. who shall moderate or reconcile? There wants a third Consul. Or if one excel the other, then we are reduced to one Consul, the other is a very Bibulus. See what a task you wise men of Rome have set your selves! you must find Two of the same age, and the same prudence: (sooner shall the Egyptians find a successor to their strange­ly mark'd Apis) or else have One Consul still, for the Junior, in manners, must hearken to the Senior, compliment him so far, and the inferior Family give way to the Collegue of the noblest Extraction.

Oh! but now they are free from Tyranny and a single Person. Alas! Two are but one degree removed from Tyranny, and two may agree to be Tyrants, (why not?) as well as thirty! [Page 174]we have heard of thirty Tyrants in Greek story. What remedy have you? Oh for that trick they shall be elected annually, they shall hold their Dignity but for a year. Mark the fears and jealousies of People with their new devise; the Administration of a Consulate must be annual, least they should design to retrieve Monarchy; so have I seen watch and ward observed in a house to keep possession against the true Owner: Lo the difference of Monarchy from other Governments! be­hold and love it, for if Fears and Jealousies may be created sometimes under it, other Go­vernments are meerly founded upon them; whilst Monarchy alone is founded upon Law Natural, Age, Authority, Love, Prudence, &c.

Take the Venetian State, behold the Ita­lian jealousies, not of their Wives, but of their Governors, the grand Duke must not budge out of Town without the leave of the Senate, O pitiful grand Duke! O pitiful Ve­netians! For if the Duke should once go out of Town, the Ducal Coronet blossoms into a Crown: and call you This, Liberty? he lives in Slavery, who lives in perpetual fears, a very Gyrus and Geta, who always dreads his Masters coming. Nor let any man tell me this Estate hath lasted a great while, What is [Page 175]inferred from thence? Nothing of Nature or right Reason in it, tis a forced Government still, wherefore tis wonderful it hath lasted so long, (tis true) because things against Na­ture use to have a shorter period.

Now admit that annual Government were not founded in fears and jealousies, yet still in a Soveraign tis unreasonable and ridicu­lous; unreasonable, because all Government requires Use and Experience, besides Authori­ty, to answer that infinite dispatch that is ex­pected, but an annual Magistracy is confined to so short a term, that the Governor scarce learns how to behave himself, till he is ready to lay it down. All the benefit is, that the annual administration is very convenient for Chronology indeed, but the same conveni­ence would be greater, if they were stated yet shorter: let the Consuls therefore be cho­sen to hold a month, or as the Decemviri were to rule in turn for a day— 'Tis All Boyes-play, Picture and Pageant, Princes of Revels, and Lords of a May time, rather than Government in earnest intended.

Nor do we intend to say that Monarchy is more excellent on the account of its Antiqui­ty, but also for its intrinsick perfection, the most sufficient and responsible to all intents and purposes which brought Government at [Page 176]first into the world. I have said tis the Go­vernment solely intended by Nature, it can­not be denied but tis the Standard of all the rest; for in Aristocracy and Democracy all plurality of votes effect nothing but by virtue of the single Form. They must be of One head and one mind, as if One single person, else they can determine nothing. Now seeing a nemi­ne contradicente is seldome seen, they must be concluded by the major part, which major part rightly apprehended, is the spurious Mo­narch, an Individual multiplied, though but One in it self, or rather the many playing Mercuries part to the Auditors, while all wise men know there is but one Sosia.

And what can be required at the hands of Government which is not here found? Justice, we have it in Monarchy: for Kings and Judges of old were the same persons. Honour we have it in Monarchy; Liberty, yea even Liberty, as I shall shew, we have it in Monar­chy; Safety from civil discords and seditions, we find in Monarchy: Safety from Enemies abroad; who must go in and out before us but the Monarch? And this the Antimonarchists could never wipe off; Three hundred heads in time of exigency, in time of war, are feign to have recourse to a single person; the Romans not long after their Regifugium, (that they [Page 177]might see that their Rebellion was senseless, when they stood in need of the Govern­ment, which they had lately expelled) were forced to pitch upon a General, whom they called indeed a Dictator, to blind poor people, when none could be more absolute King than he.

Here is the tryal of Government, as of the Pilot in a storm; In a calm we may have Liberty — to fish, if we please, but in a Storm we must receive the word of Command. Was it ever heard of in the world, that an Army was led by a Committee, to march up before their Divisions, and menace death to the opposer? O Alas poor souls! they must in their Rank, observe the Right hand Man; and so seeming Commanders, are, indeed Common Souldiers: as soon shall so many Ganders marching before their Divisions be terrible to the Foe.

Yet this is not All: without Monarchy they cannot so much as raise an Army, for, the Ene­my being at door; To see the ill luck of it, when the Consul musters, and the Tribune disbands as fast, they must chuse a Dictator to make a muster.

You will say this is pro tempore only; But what will be said, if all new Forms and Mo­dels return at last to their old Monarchs, as the [Page 178]River will run in its own alveus. I must not here recount, what Piques and Stratagems there are or have been laid against Venice, much less will I divine how near our un­happy Neighbours are to their Reduction, to de united, not against, but under their Head: All the world knows, that the Roman State, of Royal became Popular, and at last Imperial.

Here we should be Injurious to the Au­ditors, if they be not Reminded, That those who have been zealous in violating Monar­chy, have commonly given the world sad warning by their remarkable Exit. Not one of them who assassined Caesar, which came not to a violent end, and the surly ill prin­cipled Family of Bruti shew that this is Hea­vens perpetual Method; since Caesars assassinate was slain in battel by Octavius, as, four hun­dred years before, his Ancestor was slain by Aruns, to teach us, that if we list not to be ruled by the Publick, the Indignation of Hea­ven will commissionate a private hand to or­der us; where the Seepter will not sway, the Sword must. And who can forget the Dire, but most just Fate, of our late Regicides, who deserved to be pitied, but that some others do more deserve it, I mean such as will not take warning from their lamentable period. Never shall I wonder, if a dry Gallows [Page 179]frighteth not a Thief, when Exenteration and Quartering deterre not a Traytor; From such a tender Conscience Heaven deliver us.

Yea, but to be free from Tyranny and Arbi­trary Rule of a single Person, who often invades Liberty, and Property; violates the Priviledges of the Subject, is not this desirable? Ʋnder Monarchy we suffer in our Estates; Taxes, Subsidies drain our purses, and after too great evacuation, leave them gasping for life; where­as under Democracy the People shall be Prin­ces, and in what Government there is, we all shall have a share.

Can this in our case be pleaded still, not­withstanding what hath been just now deli­vered; I had thought the hints of an Igno­minious deserved death should fright us from these abortive dangerous Fancies. I answer fairly, Give me a free Republick with all my heart, where I may be free from Slavery and Treason too, where I may be free, Body and Soul, from the foul blot of Rebellion. The name of Rebel cates into and cankers the flesh, beside it sticks like a curse to the race and line of the attempter; Incest, Blasphemy, Parricide, Sacriledg, four foul offences; but Rebellion, so soul it is, involves Three of them.

Again, let the Objectors Prudence consider [Page 180]not only the Present, but something of the Future, Who knows what will be after him? we have said and seen with thanks to Heaven, that a banished Prince may return again: In thy Behaviour to the Publick have regard say I to thy own Posterity: thou shalt live but thy while; leave thy Children thy own and thy Princes blessing; thy Deeds and Writings per­haps will not secure thy Estate to thy Heirs, unless thou draw up an Act of Oblivion, which since thou canst not do, let thy Heirs have no occasion for it. They who need it for their babes, must, when they dye, pray that the Prince may never be restored, that Right may never take place, which beside the fruitlesness of the wish, how conducible it is to those, who commend themselves to another world, Let any sober man judge.

As for Tyranny, and Arbitrary Power, Who will give us the definition of a Tyrant? 'tis more easie to asperse, than define. Every charge against a Governor will not amount to Tyranny, as neither every indictment of the Subject will come up to Treason. He who calls a Prince a Tyrant calls him Monster, murders, buries, yea stakes his body; for None is a Tyrant, but he who in spight of all Na­tural or Divine Laws, doth what he pleaseth; Unless you can insert that killing clause of fe­lonious [Page 181]Indictment, viz. Having not the fear of God before his eyes, you are no Subject, but a Viper, and deserve to be trod on, after you have hissed and shewn your teeth. In the vastness of administration, 'tis a miracle, if there be no failures: In the receipt of a sum of thousands, there may be one or two less currant peices without the reproach, I hope, of Thievery or Cheat. How many times doth Innocence it self (to say nothing of un­avoidable Oversight) in a Governour, suffer as grievously as wilfull Malice? Even Ly­curgus, tis a shame to hear it, was affronted, pelted with stones, and driven from his King­dom: History rings how just he was, and yet how savagely used. And so tis fresh in our memories, how the meekest and most inno­cent of all Princes was stab'd by the vulgar, by the inscription of ultimus Tyrannorum. Naughty men calumniate strongly for their own ends, cry out upon One to set up an hundred Tyrants: Besides that many admi­nistrations of Government may be preten­ded to be Arbitrary, not because they are so, but because they are less usuall, according to some emergencies extraordinary. Some wise men say that in all Supremacy, there must be some use of unconfined and arbitrary Power, which they prove by the confession and [Page 182]practice of the People, where they arrogate Supremacy; but if This be too high or harsh a string for us, then we say, whatever Ty­ranny or arbitrary Power signifies, tis a re­fractary Spirit to cry out upon the best Form, for the apprehensions of those abuses, which have been found in their own tumults and new Models. Cade and Tyler of old, as He who made the filthy rime to Magna Charta, were rascally Tyrants. Arbitrary Government by Arms, Rumps, and Committees; most men, who either love the Republick or their own Estates, do dread the return of such confounded Re­publiques. To speak what I think, if we search the wound to the bottome, tis an impatiency of all Government, Divine though it be, in an untutored selfish people, that makes them so free in aspersing our Governors; such who have been bred to understand nothing so much as their private interest, instead of good manners or Religion it self.

As to our Liberty, we have already said, that just Liberty is not invaded, for unjust and unnatural, why is it desired? what Man, who is truly man, dare stand by the wild no­tion of the vulgar Liberty? let loose the Fe­lons then, and the Mad-men, the Prisons and Bedlam be broke open in the name of Li­berty; And let no man be bound, (That [Page 183]suits finely indeed, To be bound) no not to their good Behavior. Let all young men, Apprentices, command their Indentures, and renounce or cancel their oathes of faithful ser­vice. Let the Tenants deny Service to their Land-Lords, for a Land-Lord is but a linch of Tyranny, and what is Rent, but an exacti­on of Tribute? by Nature we are all as good, one as another, and as free: let us remove therefore all encroachments (to speak out) of the Rich upon the meaner sort, and let Right be done, that is, let no great One run away with All, and an Hundred have just no­thing: Let a through reformation and restitu­tion be made of our ancient Liberty, and let Estates and Fortunes be sweetly levelled, for Government is a yoke; do our Lords think to make Brutes of us? This is the sence not only of the Roman Slaves, and Imperial Boors, who break out into seditions at every opportunity, but of the poorer sort among our selves; See we the necessity of Government / for who can out-vote them, who have most voices? It is expedient therefore for them to be instructed, that Levelling is Confusion, neither has Nature made all equal, witness the difference of Ages, Statures, Beauties, Parts or Gifts of the Mind. Govern­ment is as necessary as Breathing, tis called a yoke, but an easie one, (and so we may call our [Page 184]garments, if we please, because they are just fit to our bodies and keep them from grow­ing out of shape.) Religion is also called a yoke, and I hope, we are not weary of that. Add, that Liberty is a Faculty of operating according to our Station: We illustrate it by the Members of the Body, who in their Stations have their Freedoms and their Priviledges also, but yet exactly keep due order; the Foot may draw on a neat pantofle; the Hand put on a fine perfumed Cordovan; the Foot may walk forward, back­ward, Stand, Caper, Dance; the Hand may Give, Take, Exercise it self to work or play, But neither may the Hand assassine the Face, or pull out the Eye, nor may one Foot kick against the other. No man hath Liberty to forget himself; Vulgar people, like little Chil­dren, think their Liberty is infringed, when the troth is, they are blest with Government; so did I reckon, when I was a Child, that I was in Prison when I was in my good Fathers house, because He pleased to restrain me from some licenciousness, which was indulged in other children: Attend, my dear Country-men, if I had enjoyed my Liberty, I had been un­done; I see now that my Fathers restraint was for my good: Liberty is good, but we must not surfeit upon it, a convenient Dose is very proper.

This being observed, I dare boldly say, there is no true Liberty, such as consists with Natural Order, but under Monarchy. We have branched out its Subordinations (as the Natural Body shoots it self into Limbs) from the Soveraign to the Pesant; As then it is in the Natural Body, the Foot cannot Petition to have the arm lopt off, and set it self in its room; so neither can the Pesant on pretence of Liberty challenge the Coat of a Gentleman; nor every Gentleman expect a Patent to be a Baron, In other Commonwealths its called Liberty; It is monstrous deformity or dislocation of Members, where the Leg grows out of the Armpit and its proud of the prefer­ment. But as proud as it is, it is a foul specta­cle and the true Augurs will tell you such monstrous Governments ought to be abolished.

Taxes and Tallage are the easiest part of the objection, since Nature requires it, and all Re­ligion allows it is due, every Profession de­mands a Fee, every Office its Salary; Tis on­ly Rusticks, and want of breeding, who at­taint the Priest, the Lawyer, the Physician, for a covetous Generation, while they only expect their Dues: Governors are Ministers atten­ding continually upon the discharge of their Office; And must only they be unpaid for their attendance? your Coach-man and wa­ter-man must be considered for their atten­dance; [Page 186]Bees have more justice, who maintain their Master at the charge of the Hive. If God had made the Governors Im­mortal, He, nor They would have expected Subsidy, but seeing the Prince partakes of the Common Nature, tis barbarously sad to starve Him, and tends to nought, but the change of Government; as they, who lie before a City in hope to famish it, seek to master it.

Now to all experience is it contrary to hope for redress from contribution under a Democracy, the Romans cessed the people to purpose, and spared not, they knew the E­states of each Citizen, and they made use of them. It would do one good to consider how free our Neighbour Escates are from As­sessements and Taxes, or to remember brave Olivers ninety thousand pound, with an ad­ditament of thirty thousand more to make it up 120000 lib. per mensem; Pay your excise for shame, O ye well wishers to Democracy, and mutter not at a round Assessment, for our blessed Democracy brought these knacks into England, and Let it not be said that these Oppressions are no pressures, when laid on us by Ignoble Usurpers, but only then, are intol­lerable, when called for by our Natural Prince; when we will mutter and mutter, fume and smother, till we break out into a flame, and depopulate our Native Country, [Page 187]rather than pay a six pence Ship-mony—Oh how long shall we be called an unruly Peo­ple, who love our Prince, and yet sell him for six pence? When shall we wipe off the reproach, so long thrown in our faces, that the King of England is a King of Furies, Rex Caco D— My heart is not hard enough to speak out the word; Whence comes this foul Stigma, upon us? From the Stars? as Mr. Camden hath it, or the Temper of our Island? or is it a National Corruption drawn from our Saxon Ancestors, (since the Britains are of better principles) or were we taught it by those Birds of Prey, those Families, (whose Gentry I question not) who came in with the Conqueror, with this noble Resolu­lution, to get what they could, and to part with as little as may be. Whencesoever it is, we shall never be Queen of Islands, till we have laid by such low Spirited principles, and studied our good name by more noble, more magnifie Resolutions.

To conclude, the Last is the most honest plea of all, viz. that under Democracy we shall have each of us a share in the Government, Every man shall take his turn; for Monar­chy seems a Monopoly of Authority, but we desire a Free-Trade, in such Merchandise, ma­ny Families will be the better, when the Mo­nopoly [Page 188]is divided, as Alexanders Empire up­on his death made several petty Princes: So it is we would be All Paramount; Tis a very loving proposition, and it will please our Wives be sure: But this is but a dream, a device to possess peoples heads to fool them into turbulency; For Government is no Frolick, no ridiculous sport at Questions and Com­mands, where the Servant takes his turn of a Mock-King, and commands all the House; but Government is a most serious constituti­on to profit, not to please all; implanted in Nature, and Conscience, and hence is it, that in that very sportive way, where a Ser­vant is King, he cannot command his Master in all instances of Obedience requirable without egregious Impudence.

No, no; People are to be governed: Not an Army, or a Family, or any multitude can govern it self, they may wish their own con­servation and welfare, but they understand not the means conducing thereto. Every member of the Army agrees in Victory or common Safety desired; but the Methods, the Intrigues and Stratagems how to expe­dite the Whole from this danger, or make them Masters of that advantage, These are Arcana, which the private Souldier doth not comprehend; Some shrewd pates there may [Page 189]be among the Country Buskins, and greater Pretenders within the City-Walls, but he would not deserve well of his Majesty, who shall advise him to search the Coffee-Assem­blies for Privy Counsellors. Let them be wise, but with submission and a hearty belief that there are many in Place, wiser than themselves: Hast thou Sense and Sagacity, be thankful; but thou hast no obligation to be Proud; I will allow thee to be wiser than the Multi­tude, I find it by thy discourse; but if thou art wiser than the Many, confess then with me that the Multitude ought not to govern.

I count them well imployed that Religi­ously inquire into the reasons of Divine San­ctions, of whom at present I would gladly know, wherefore Heaven was pleased to ordein Successive Monarchies and not Elective. Surely beside the prevention of factious Field-meetings on the Peoples part, and crafty am­bitious practices of the competitors side: He did not reckon the People under their pre­tended state of Liberty, to be competent Electors of their Princes: the Votes of a Commonalty can do much, yet it is still questionable, whether any voting themselves to be wise and prudent, can effectually make them such. So irrational is the claim of choosing their Soveraign, when they have [Page 190]neither Power nor Skill to intitle them to it: For if they had power, it would yet be an offence, not to call in wiser than themselves to their assistance: As the wife, though she hath unquestionable power, to choose her Hus­band, transgresseth the rule, if she hearkeneth not to the advice of her Parents. For how easie is the People, how ductile, hammered to all dimensions, and degrees of tenuitie, a cun­ning Sophister can lead them with a twin'd thread of Rhetorick, to be Pompeians to day, and Caesarians to morrow. So tottering, and so unballasted are their Judgements, that they turn with every tide, and comply with the wantonness of the wave, if any wind be stirring. Intoxicated with false principles, (and such 'tis easie to infuse,) they will meet in great bodies, as if acted by Divine in­stinct: So will minute Fishes meeting in shoals overturn a Navy; and an Army of Grashop­pers blast and burn up all that is goodly in the Land. They say they are Free-born, but they are kin to him, who would sell his Birth-right; for Beef and Country Ale will marshal a Province. You may discover their Character by their abilities in Spirituals: One paultry lying Spirit will found a numerous new Sect, which will stand at defiance with Humanity it self: But if some men will strive [Page 191]to forget their most amiable duty of Allegi­ance, or, in spite of Conscience, throw it off, we shall hope still, that Monarchy will per­petually flow with the largest streams of time, that the English Roses will never be blasted in these our gardens: That the Royal Thistle shall avenge it self upon all unhallowed fingers, that the Genius of the Nation, the Bent of our Gentry, the Sublimity of our Peers, the Lear­ning, Principles, and Spirit of our Clergy, I may add, the Flower of London its noble City and Lieutenancy, beside the Dignity of our Island, the Fame of our Ancestors (and what can I say more? except I should add the Decree of Heaven, of which I hope these are no contemptible arguments) will appear against all restless designs of ignoble Repub­licks, wherever contrived at Club or Coffee-meeting, and that the publick shouts of En­gland and Dominion of Wales upon every oc­casion shall by ringing their Loyal Ejaculati­ons make Holy-day in the Air, while Hea­vens applauding, and the Earth dancing a Sa­raband, the Mountains shall answer the voi­ces of Man, Woman and Child with the du­tiful thundring rebound of, God save the KING.