Chapter XIX (3)

"Appetite hath revolted from nature, which continually inciteth itself, and increaseth with the ages, helping vice by wit. First it began to desire superfluous, then contrary things: last of all, it sold the mind to the body, and commanded it to serve the lusts thereof. All these arts, wherewith the city is continually set at work, and maketh such a stir, do center in the affairs of the body, to which all things were once performed as to a servant, but now are provided as for a lord: hence the shops of engravers, perfumers, &c. Hence, of those that teach effeminate motions of the body, and vain and wanton songs: for natural behaviour is despised, which completed desires with necessary help; now it is clownishness and ill-breeding to be contented with as much as is requisite. What shall I speak of rich marbles curiously wrought, wherewith temples and houses do shine? What of stately galleries and rich furniture? these are but the devices of most vile slaves; the inventions of men, not of wise men: for wisdom sits deeper; it is the mistress of the mind. Wilt thou know what things she hath found out, what she hath made? Not unseemly motions of the body, nor variable singing by trumpet or flute; nor yet weapons of wars, or fortifications: she endeavoureth profitable things; she favours peace, and calls all mankind to agreement: she leadeth to a blessed estate; she openeth the way to it, and shows what is evil from what is good, and chaseth vanity out of the mind. She giveth solid greatness, but debaseth that which is puffed up, and would be seen of men: she bringeth forth the image of God to be seen in the souls of men: and so from corporeal, she translateth into incorporeal things." Thus in the 90th epistle to Luculius. To Gallio, he writeth thus: "All men, brother Gallio, are desirous to live happy, yet blind to the means of that blessedness. As long as we wander hither and thither, and follow not our guide, but the dissonant clamour of those that call on us to undertake different ways, our short life is wearied and worn away amongst errors, although we labour to get us a good mind: there is nothing therefore to be more avoided, than following the multitude without examination, and believing anything without judging. Let us inquire, what is best done, not what is more usually done; and what planted us in the possession of eternal felicity; not what is ordinarily allowed of by the multitude, which is the worst interpreter of truth. I call the multitude, as well those that are clothed in white, as those in other colours: for I examine not the colours of the garments, wherewith their bodies are clothed: I trust not mine eyes to inform me what a man is; I have a better and truer light, whereby I can distinguish truth from falsehood. Let the soul find out the good of the soul; if once she may have leisure to withdraw into herself, Oh! how will she confess, I wish all I have done were undone; and all I have said, when I recollect it, I am ashamed of it, when I now hear the like in others. These things below, whereat we gaze, and whereat we stay, and which one man with admiration shows unto another, do outwardly shine, but are inwardly empty. Let us seek out somewhat that is good, not in appearance, but solid, united, and best, in that which least appears: let us discover this. Neither is it far from us: we shall find it if we seek it. For it is wisdom not to wander from that immortal nature, but to form ourselves according to his law and example. Blessed is the man who judgeth rightly: blessed is he who is contented with his present condition: and blessed is he who giveth ear to that immortal principle, in the government of his life." A whole volume of these excellent things hath he written. No wonder a man of his doctrine and life escaped not the cruelty of brutish Nero, under whom he suffered death; as also did the apostle Paul, with whom, it is said Seneca had conversed. When Nero's messenger brought him the news, that he was to die; with a composed and undaunted countenance he received the errand, and presently called for pen, ink, and paper, to write his last will and testament; which the captain refusing, he turned towards his friends, and took his leave thus: "Since, my loving friends, I cannot bequeath you any other thing in acknowledgment of what I owe you, I leave you at least the richest and best portion I have, that is the image of my manners and life, which doing, you will obtain true happiness." His friends showing great trouble for the loss of him; "Where," saith he, "are those memorable precepts of philosophy? And what is become of those provisions, which for so many years together we have laid up against the brunts and afflictions of Providence? Was Nero's cruelty unknown to us? What could we expect better at his hands, that killed his brother and murdered his mother, but that he would put also his tutor and governor to death?" Then turning to his wife Pompeia Paulina, a Roman lady, young and noble, besought her for the love she bore him and his philosophy, to suffer patiently his affliction: "For," saith he, "my hour is come wherein I must show, not only by discourse but by death, the fruit I have reaped by my meditations; I embrace it without grief, wherefore do not dishonour it with thy tears. Assuage thy sorrow, and comfort thyself in the knowledge thou hast had of me, and of my actions; and lead the rest of thy life with that honest industry thou hast addicted thyself unto." And dedicating his life to God, he expired.

XXVIII. Epictetus, contemporary with Seneca, and an excellent man, thought no man worthy of the profession of philosophy, that was not purified from the errors of his nature. His morals were very excellent, which he comprised under these two words, _sustaining_, and _abstaining_; or _bearing_, and _forbearing_; to avoid evil, and patiently to suffer afflictions, which do certainly comprise the christian doctrine and life, and is the perfection of the best philosophy that was at any time taught by Egyptians, Greeks, or Romans, when it signified virtue, self-denial, and a life of religious solitude and contemplation.

How little the Christians of the times are true philosophers, and how much more these philosophers were Christians, than they, let the righteous principle in every conscience judge. But is it not then intolerable, that they should be esteemed Christians, who are yet to learn to be good Heathens? That prate of grace and nature, and know neither? Who will presume to determine what is become of Heathens, and know not where they are themselves, nor mind what may become of them? That can run readily over a tedious list of famous personages, and calumniate such as will not, with them, celebrate their memories with extravagant and superfluous praises, whilst they make it laudable to act the contrary: and none so ready a way to become vile, as not to be vicious? A strange paradox, but too true; so blind, so stupified, so besotted, are the foolish sensualists of the world, under their great pretences to religion, faith, and worship. Ah! did they but know the peace, the joy, the unspeakable ravishments of soul, that inseparably attend the innocent, harmless, still, and retired life of Jesus? Did they but weigh within themselves, the authors of their vain delights and pastimes, the nature and disposition they are so grateful to, the dangerous consequence of exercising the mind and its affections below, and arresting and taking them up from their due attendance and obedience to the most holy voice crying in their consciences, "Repent, return, all is vanity, and vexation of spirit:" were but these things reflected upon; were the incessant wooings of Jesus, and his importunate knocks and entreaties, by his light and grace, at the door of their hearts, but kindly answered, and He admitted to take up his abode there: and lastly, were such resolved to give up to the instructions and holy guidance of his eternal Spirit, in all the humble, heavenly, and righteous conversation it requires, and of which He is become our Captain and example; then, O then, both root and branch of vanity, the nature that invented, and that which delights herself therein, with all the follies themselves, would be consumed and vanish. But they, alas! cheat themselves by misconstrued Scriptures, and daub with the untempered mortar of misapplied promises. They will be saints whilst they are sinners; and in Christ, whilst in the spirit of the world, walking after the flesh, and not after the Spirit, by which the true children of God are led. My friends, mind the just witness and holy principle in yourselves, that you may experimentally know more of the Divine life, in which, and not in a multitude of vain repetitions, true and solid felicity eternally consists.

IV. _Nor is this reputation, wisdom, and virtue, only to be attributed to men: there were women also in the Greek and Roman ages, that honoured their sex, by great examples of meekness, prudence, and chastity; and which I do the rather mention, that the honour, story yields to their virtuous conduct, may raise an allowable emulation in those of their own sex, at least, to equal the noble character given them by antiquity, viz._

1. Penelope.--2. Hipparchia.--3. Cornelia.--4. Pompeia
Plautina.--5. Plotina.--6. A reproof to voluptuous women of the
times.

I. Penelope, wife to Ulysses, a woman eminent for her beauty and quality, but more for her singular chastity. Her husband was absent from her twenty years, partly in the service of his country, and partly in exile; and being believed to be dead, she was earnestly sought by divers lovers, and pressed by her parents to change her condition; but all the importunities of the one, or persuasions of the other, not prevailing, her lovers seemed to use a kind of violence, that where they could not entice, they would compel: to which she yielded, upon this condition, that they would not press her to marry, till she had ended the work she had in hand: which they granting, "she undid by night what she wrought by day;" and with that honest device she delayed their desire, till her husband returned, whom she received, though in beggar's clothes, with a heart full of love and truth. A constancy that reproaches too many of the women of the times. Her work shows the industry and employment, even of the women of great quality in those times; whilst those of the present age despise such honest labour as mean and mechanical.

II. Hipparchia, a fair Macedonian virgin, noble of blood, as they term it, but more truly noble of mind, I cannot omit to mention: who entertained so earnest an affection for Crates, the Cynical philosopher, as well for his severe life as excellent discourse, that by no means could her relations, nor suitors, by all their wealth, nobility, and beauty, dissuade her from being his companion. Upon which strange resolution, they all betook themselves to Crates, beseeching him to show himself a true philosopher, in persuading her to desist: which he strongly endeavoured by many arguments; but not prevailing, went his way, and brought all the little furniture of his house, and showed her: "This," saith he, "is thy husband; that, the furniture of thy house: consider on it, for thou canst not be mine, unless thou followest the same course of life:" for being rich above twenty talents, which is more than £50,000, he neglected all to follow a retired life: all which had so contrary an effect, that she immediately went to him, before them all, and said, "I seek not the pomp and effeminacy of this world, but knowledge and virtue, Crates; and choose a life of temperance, before a life of delicacies; for true satisfaction, thou knowest, is in the mind; and that pleasure is only worth seeking, that lasts for ever." Thus was it she became the constant companion both of his love and life, his friendship and his virtues; travelling with him from place to place, and performing the public exercises of instruction with Crates, wherever they came. She was a most violent enemy to all impiety, but especially to wanton men and women, and those whose garb and conversation showed them devoted to vain pleasures and pastimes; effeminacy rendering the like persons not only unprofitable, but pernicious to the whole world. Which she as well made good by the example of her exceeding industry, temperance, and severity, as those are wont to do by their intemperance and folly: for ruin of health, estates, virtue, and loss of eternal happiness, have ever attended, and ever will attend, such earthly minds.

III. Cornelia, also a noble Roman matron, and sister to Scipio, was esteemed the most famous and honourable personage of her time, not more for the greatness of her birth, than her exceeding temperance. And history particularly mentions this, as one great instance of her virtue, for which she was so much admired, to wit, that she never was accustomed to wear rich apparel, but such apparel as was very plain and grave; rather making her children, whom her instructions and example had made virtuous, her greatest ornament: a good pattern for the vain and wanton dames of the age.

IV. Pompeia Plautina, wife to Julianus the emperor, commended for her compassion to the poor, used the power her virtue had given her with her husband, to put him upon all the just and tender things that became his charge, and to dissuade him from whatsoever seemed harsh to the people: particularly she diverted him from a great tax his flatterers advised him to lay upon the people.

V. Plotina, the wife of Trajan, "a woman," saith a certain author, "adorned with piety, chastity, and all the virtues that a woman is capable of." There are two instances; one of her piety, the other of her chastity; the first is this: when her husband was proclaimed emperor, she mounted the capitol after the choice, where, in a religious manner, she said, "Oh, that I may live under all this honour, with the same virtue and content, that I enjoyed before I had it." The second is this: her husband being once exiled, she caused her hair to be cut short, as the men wore it, that with less notice and danger she might be the companion of his banishment.

VI. Thus may the voluptuous women of the times read their reproof in the character of a brave Heathen, and learn, that solid happiness consists in a neglect of wealth and greatness, and a contempt of all corporeal pleasures, as more befitting beasts than immortal spirits: and which are loved by none but such, as not knowing the excellency of heavenly things, are both inventing and delighting, like brutes, in that which perisheth: giving the preference to poor mortality, and spending their lives to gratify the lusts of a little dirty flesh and blood, that shall never enter into the kingdom of heaven; by all which their minds become darkened, and so insensible of more celestial glories, that they do not only refuse to inquire after them, but infamously scoff and despise those that do, as a foolish and mad people: to that strange degree of darkness and impudence this age has got. But if the exceeding temperance, chastity, virtue, industry, and contentedness of very Heathens, with the plain and necessary enjoyments God has been pleased to vouchsafe to the sons and daughters of men, as sufficient to their wants and conveniency, that they may be the more at leisure to answer the great end of their being born, will not suffice, but that they will exceed the bounds, precepts, and examples, both of Heathens and Christians; anguish and tribulation will overtake them, when they shall have an eternity to think upon, with gnashing teeth, what to all eternity they can never remedy; these dismal wages are decreed for them, who so far affront God, heaven, and eternal felicity, as to neglect their salvation from sin here and wrath to come, for the enjoyment of a few fading pleasures. For such to think, notwithstanding their lives of sense and pleasure, wherein their minds become slaves to their bodies, that they shall be everlastingly happy, is an addition to their evils: since it is a great abuse to the holy God, that men and women should believe Him an eternal companion for their carnal and sensual minds: for "As the tree falls, so it lies; and as death leaves men, judgment finds them;" and there is no repentance in the grave. Therefore, I beseech you, to whom this comes, to retire: withdraw a while: let not the body see all, taste all, enjoy all; but let the soul see too, taste and enjoy those heavenly comforts and refreshments proper to that eternal world, of which she is an inhabitant, and where she must ever abide in a state of peace or plagues, when this visible one shall be dissolved.