Prefaces to Four Seventeenth-Century Romances Roger Boyle, Lord Broghill, preface to Parthenissa (1655) Sir George Mackenzie, "Apologie for romances," prefixed to Aretina, the serious romance (1660) Nathaniel Ingelo, preface to Bentivolio and Urania (1660) Robert Boyle, preface to Theodora and Didymus (1687)

Part 2

Chapter 23,980 wordsPublic domain

_It hath been rather the fate, then merit of Romances in all ages, to be asperst with these vices, whereof they were not only innocent, but to whose ante-doting vertues they might justly pretend: for whereas they are judged to be both the fire, and faggots, wherby Lov’d flames are both kindled and alimented; I believe verily, that there is nothing can so easily extinguish them, for as these who have at Court, seen numbers of peerless and wel deckt beauties, can hardly become enamoured of an ordinary Country-maid; So these who have seen a =Philoclea=, or =Cleopatra=, depenciled by the curious wits of =Sidney=, and =Scuderie=, will hardly be invassalled by the (to them scarce approaching) treats of these, whom this age garlands for admired beauties. Others forsooth accuse them, for robbing us of our precious time; but this reproach is ill founded; for if the Romance be abject, none will trifle away their time in reading it, except these who would mispend it however, and if they be excellent, then time is rather spent then mispent in leafing them over. There is also a third race of detracters, who condemn them as lies; but since their Authors propose them, not with an intention to deceive, they cannot properly be reputed such: And albeit they seem but fables, yet who would unkernel them, would finde budled up in them reall truthes; and as naturalists observe, these kernels are best where the shells are hardest; and these mettals are noblest, which are mudded over with most earth. But so leave such Phanaticks in the bedlame of their own fancies, who should blush to trace in these paths, which the famous =Sidney=, =Scuderie=, =Barkley=, and =Broghill= hath beaten for them, besides thousands of Ancients, and Moderns Ecclesiasticks, and Laicks, Spaniards, French, and Italians, to remunerat whose endeavours, fame hath Wreathed Garlands (to betemple their ingenious and ingenuous heads) which shall never fade whilest Learning flourishes. I shall speak nothing of that noble Romance, written by a Bishop, which the entreaty of all the Eastern Churches could never prevail with him to disown; and I am confident, that where Romances are written by excellent wits, and perused by intelligent Readers, that the judgement may pick more sound information from them, then from History, for the one teacheth us onely what was done, and the other what should be done; and whereas Romances presents to us, vertue in its holy-day robes, History presents her only to us in these ordinary, and spotted sutes which she weares whilst she is busied in her servile, and lucrative imployments: and as many would be incited to vertue and generosity, by reading in Romances, how much it hath been honoured; So contrary wise, many are deterred by historical experience from being vertuous, knowing that it hath been oftner punished then acknowledged. Romances are these vessels which strain the christal streams of vertue from the puddle of interest; whereas history suffers the memory to quaff them of in their mixt impuritie; by these likewise lazy Ladies and luxurious Gallants, are allured to spend in their Chambers some hours, which else, the one would consecrat to the Bed, and the other to the Bordell: and albeit essayes be the choicest Pearls in the Jewel house of moral Philosophy, yet I ever thought that they were set off to the best advantage, and appeared with the greatest lustre, when they were laced upon a Romance; that so the curiosity might be satisfied, as well as the judgement informed, especially in this age Wherein the appetit of mens judgements is become so queasie, that it can rellish nothing that is not either vinegared with Satyres, or suggared with Eloquence._

_I know that these who have devanced us in this imployment, will as our oldest brothers in time, have a double portion of fame bestowed upon them, and no wonder, seing they had store both of expression and invention to make choice of, and if any of us use their expressions, albeit we were only debtor to our own invention for them, yet we should be thought to plagiarize: wherefore he who writes now, should read what hath been written formerly; not to the intent that he may borrow, but least he should borrow any thing that is theirs. I perceive there have been two errours committed by the first writers of Romances: the first was, that they stuffed their Books with things impracticable, which because they were above the reach of mans power, they should never have fallen within the circle of his observation: and such was =Amadis de Gaule=, =Palmeron de Oliva= =&c.= The other errour was in the style, which because of its soaring pitch was inimitable: and as the first hath been the fault of the first writers, So the last hath been the fault of the last writers, wherefore the famous =Scuderie= hath written so, as that his invention may suit well with our practice, and his style with our discourse, and especially in his =Clelia=, wherein he professes that he hath adapted all to the present converse of the French Nation and that is really the mould wherein all tru Romances should be casten. There are some who embroider their discourse with Latin and Greek termes, thinking, like these who are charmers, that the charme loses its energie, if the words be not used in Latine. But this is as ridiculous, as if one who desires to make his face seem pleasant, should enamble it with red, blew, green, and other colours; which though they are in themselves pleasant, yet are rediculous when placed there. And this is an university style, which favours too much its pedant, and is at best but bastard oratory, seing the scope of all Orators is to perswade, and there can be no perswasion where the term is not understood; examples of this are =Brown=, =Charletoun=, =&c.= The second style, is that of moral Philosophers, where the periods are short, and the sense strong, and our experience teacheth us, that the shorter any thing be, it is the stronger: this style suits best with Preachers, whose it is to debit the grand misteries of Faith and Religion; for, seing sentences there should be weighty, if they were either many, or long, they would burden too much the hearers. The third style, is that of =Barrasters=, which is flourished with similees, and where are used long winded periods; and of all others, this is the most preferable, for seing similitude is but a harmony, this style shews that excellent harmony; and rapport, which God intended in the first Creation; and which the Philosophers of all ages have ever since admired. This Lawyers have learned from the paucitie of all humane Lawes, which makes them oft recurr to that topick, which teaches them to argument from the paritie of reason. And in this they resemble Mechanicks, who, by applying a cord, whose length they know, to any body whose length they ignore, do thereby learn its measures also. And by this way =Nathan= in the old Testament, and our Saviour in the new, repremands the errors of =David= and the self conceated Jewes. The fourth style is where the cadence is sweet, and the epithets well adapted, without any other varnish whatsoever: and this is that style which is used at Court, and is paterned to us by eloquent =Scuderie=. I hear there is now a ridiculous caball of Ladies at =Paris=, who terme themselves the precious, and who paraphrase every thing they speak of, terming a mirrour, the conselour of beauty, and a chair, the commoditie of conversation, &c. And thus they have progressed from painting of faces to paint expressions._

_As for my self, since I expect no applause, I need fear no censure; and if I satisfie not others, I shall at least satisfie my self, for it was to form to my self a style that I undertook this Piece, whose defects I hope the sober readers will pardon, since their clemency will not be oft tempted with crimes of this nature: only this I begg, that these who will not do me the favour to read the last part, will not do me the wrong to read the first part; for as the Lord =Baken= very well observes, our thoughts are like our years, whereof the first are alwayes the worst; and it is no wonder, for boyling youth customarly throws the scum upmost. I have concealed my name till I see how my undertaking is relished; for which reason likewise, I have sent this Piece to the world unaccompanied, as a swatch of what I intend, reserving the web, till I see how the Stuff pleases. The subject hath made this first part serious, and my inclination shall make the second pleasant._

BENTIVOLIO AND URANIA, IN FOUR BOOKES.

By _N. I._ D. D.

_LONDON_: Printed by _J. G._ for RICHARD MARRIOT, and are to be sold at his shop in Saint _Dunstans_ Church-yard _Fleetstreet_. _MDCLX._

A PREFACE TO THE READER, CONCERNING The DESIGN of this BOOK.

_It is justly esteemed by those which know themselves, as the onely work that is worthy of wise men, so to employ their better faculties and improve their time, that at last they may obtain an End, in which they may rejoyce eternally: After a sincere intention of this End, to prosecute it with a constant use of fit means, is the Character of a Prudent and Good man. Those which govern not their life by this Principle, do either suffer themselves to be benum’d with Idleness, or abuse the activity of their Souls in some vain employment._

_The =first= of these two out of their great love to do nothing, can make no better wish for themselves, then that they might sleep out the other half of their time; and it is rationall to do so, if his Rule were good for any thing, who said, =He values his life at a just rate, who would be content to forgoe it for a Dream=._

_The =other= make their bargain but a little better; for whilest they entertain themselves with things which correspond not with the Dignity of Reasonable Souls, instead of perfecting those rare Capacities with which their Natures are invested, by a generous endeavour to obtain that Happiness which God doth not envy us, they lessen themselves, clip the wings of their Souls, and bring them down from those degrees of Excellency which they actually enjoy, and make them degenerate into a brutish incapacity, though many times they take no notice of the weakness of their judgements: till they meet it in the miserable Consequences of their Actions._

_It is not my purpose here to reckon up all the impertinencies of Mankind, which are the several instances of the forementioned folly, I would onely give a charitable notice of one, =viz. the VVriting and Reading of Romances=. This I put into the number, because for the most part it is verified in them what =Justin Martyr= said of =Homers= Poetry, Ἔστι γαρ ἡ πᾶσα ῥαψῳδία Ἰλιάδος τε καὶ Ὀδυσσείας, ἀρχὴ καὶ τέλος, γυνὴ, =i.e. The whole Rhapsody of Homers Iliads and Odysseis, beginning and end, is but a VVoman=. Yet they dote so much upon that subject, that they think with those amorous =Trojans=, that =Helen= was not onely worthy of all the labours of =Homers Quill=, but also of the sharp contentions of the =Greek= and =Trojan= swords._

Ου’ νέμεσις Τρωες και ευκνημιδαι Αχαιοι Τοιη δ’ αμφι γυναικι πολυν χρονον αλγεα πασχειν: _i.e._

A ten years VVar is no unworthy sight, VVhen _Greece_ and _Troy_ for such a VVoman fight.

_She was a brave Woman indeed, and it was but fit that so many Gallant men should destroy one another in the =Revenge= and =Defence= of her Adultery. But =Maximus Tyrius= in his 15th. Dissertation doth justly reprove the folly of their opinion, and condemn the unreasonablenesse of that lavish praise._

_I am not ignorant that =Homer= wrote upon another design, then to tell so many tales of =Helen= and =Paris=, and that =Horace= hath said in his Commendation,_

_Qui quid sit pulchrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non, Plenius ac melius =Chrysippo= & =Crantore= dicit: i.e._

He what is fair, what foul, what good, what not, Better then _Crantor_ and _Chrysippus_ wrot.

_It may be so; for though =Chrysippus= was so great a man, that he was esteemed the onely support of the Stoick School, according to the Proverbiall speech recorded by =Diogenes Laertius=, Εἰ μὴ γὰρ ἦν Χρύσιππος, οὐκ ἂν ἦν Στοά. Yet quite contrary to the vertuous design of prudent =Socrates=, he spoil’d the Docrine of good manners, and unwisely changed the substiantiall precepts of a morall life for the uselesse subtilties of nice disputation. Or what if =Crantor=, whom he yokes with him in the disparagement, made no great proficiency either by =Plato=, to whose School he belonged, or =Homer= himself, who was his delight? For all this fair verdict, which =Horace= hath passed in favour of his Brother Poet, the Morall Vertues, which so highly concern the felicity of the World, ought to be discours’d in another manner then he useth; for he, as it may be said also of other =Romancers=, hath made the fabulous rind so thick, that few can see through it into the usefull sense. I do not deny what =Plutarch= saies, that his Verses were not written onely for pleasure, ὰλλὰ γαρ βαθύτερός εστι τους ενκεκρυμμενους τοις επεσι, =i.e.= but that a deeper meaning is hid under his Poems; but he hath sunk it so deep, that very few can come at it. And some of those who applaud him for a =Philosopher=, confesse that such onely can make a gain of him, that have already attain’d a mature judgement by long study; that is, such may possibly learn of him, who are able to teach him: But he is so unfit for others, that =Plato= desired they might not see him, ἱνα μη μυθους οιησοιντο γραφειν τον Ἡρωα, =i.e.= for fear they should think that the =Hero= wrote fables, which he had good reason to expect upon the perusall._

_Besides this, as many others do, he hath so form’d the representations of Vertue and Vice, that it is hard to say, which is commended and which reproved; whil’st the Gods are frequently brought in practising Immoralities, he doth at least equall Vice to Vertue, and nourish that which he should eradicate. For, why should men endeavour to be better then their Gods? So he in the Comedy made the Adultery of =Jupiter= an apology for his lust._

----Et quia consimilem luserat Jam olim ille ludum-------- Ego homuncio hoc non facerem: _Terent. Eunuch._

_By these and such like instances the Greek Fathers did convince the Heathens of the imperfection of their best Authors. So one may perceive in some =Romances= of a later date, that the pictures of =Heroes=, which they have drawn far exact patterns of the most rais’d vertue are often blotted with notorious defects, as Impatience, Revenge, and the like._

_But this sort of Books is most to be blamed, because for the greater part, as I said before, their =chief Design= is to put fleshly Lust into long stories, and sometimes not without very unhandsome mixtures, tending onely to the service of brutish Concupiscence, the nourishment of dishonorable affections, and by exciting in the Readers muddy fancies, to indispose them for their attendance upon God by their better part. For some such reason, I suppose, the great =Sidney= before his death charg’d his friend Sir =Fulk Grevill=, who had the onely Copy of his =Arcadia=, that he should never permit it to be made publick._

_The =other= pieces, which fill up the =intervalls= of the story, and grace it with pleasing varieties, are commonly frivolous devices of wit in some contemptible matter, and serve but to some such slight purpose, as doth the writing of =Verses= in the form of an =Egge= or =Hatchet=, where the measures of words and sense are constrain’d to suite with the odde proportions of such figures. These are fine rarities of no use, the intertexture of the =by-accidents= being as triviall as the =principall Design=._

_’Tis true, some of these Authors written in divers Languages, are applauded for the =Elegancy= of each particular =Tongue=, and are here and there interspers’d with good =Sentences=: but they are so deeply =infected= with =noisome words=, =immodest Tales= and =Discourses=, which do fatally corrupt the manners of Youth, that I cannot but assent to the Opinion of many wise men, who judge them, for all that, well worthy of the fire. Neither do I think it improper to use the words, which the old =Sages= of =Troy= silently mutter’d, when they perceived the dangers which attended the beauty of =Helen=, which the young men extoll’d as equall to that of the heavenly Goddesses._

Αλλὰ γαρ ὧς τοίηπερ ἐοῦς᾽ ἐν νηυσὶ νεέσθω μηδ᾽ ἡμῖν τεκέεσσί τ᾽ ὀπίσσω πῆμα λίποιτο, _i.e._

But though She’s such, let her return, and make An end of what we suffer for her sake.

_I could easily name them, but that Labour is needless to such as know books: and to those which do not, I ought not, by making a Catalogue, to give notice of such as I could wish burnt. If they were, they would not be greatly miss’d, as to that propriety of speech unto which they lay claim, and for which they are magnified by their Readers; because the best Languages used in the world, may as well be learn’d from Authors that are as Elegant as Chaste._

_For these reasons I think the Noble =Mountaigne= gave a great proof of his early wisdome, in that, as he saies, =Quant aux Amadis, et telles sortes d’escrits, ils n’ont pas eu le credit d’arrester seulement mon enfance=, i.e. =Amadis and such like trash of VVriting; had not so much credit with him, as to allure his youth to delight in them=. And upon the same considerations one may well judge some Excellent Wits thrown away in =writing= great stories of Nothing; and that others lose their unvaluable Time whilst they =reade= them. And the rather, because, besides the direct losse, they leave the Memory so full of fantasticall images of things which are not, that they cannot easily dismisse them: the Fancy being held in the amusement of those foolish Dreames, as we are in Sleep with the various representations of severall things, which never were nor will be in such Ridiculous Conjunctions. And when the Reader considers how prettily he hath abused himself, yet cannot he presently dispossesse his fancy of those vain Imaginations which he hath entertain’d, but is still haunted with them, and much indispos’d in Mind for more worthy Considerations; as troublesome Dreams often leave the Body not so well affected._

_There is no doubt but that most Readers of such things, ingenuously examining what beneficiall use they could make of the gains reaped from their Studies, would find themselves hard put to it to name a better then the =Great VVit= was forc’d to, who said, =when he thought to retire from his Extravagancies, and to repose his wearied Spirit, and it still pester’d him with an orderlesse rabble of troublesome Chimæras, he resolv’d to keep a Register of them, hoping by that meanes one day to make it asham’d, and blush at it self=._

_It is no wonder that these Fooleries are not easily thrown off, because of that deep impression which they make upon the affectionate part, through the cunning inveglements of Fancy. For men having indulg’d Imagination, and play’d carelesly with its Fantasms, unawares take vehement pleasure in things which they do not believe, and weep for such inconsiderable reasons, that afterward they laugh at themselves for it, and read Fables with such affections, as if their own or their friends best interest were wrapp’d up in them. What strong Expectation have they for the Issue of a doubtfull Design? How unsatisfied are they till the End of a paper-Combate? What fears possesse them for the Knight whose part they take? How passionately are they delighted with the Description of a Castle built in the aire? How ravish’d upon the conceit of Beauties which owe themselves only to the paint which came out of the Poets Ink-pot? How are they taken with pleasure and sorrow for the good and bad success of the Romantick Lovers? They are apt also to draw to themselves or their friends such things as they read in far-fetch’d references: if the resemblances suite in some little points, they seem to do and suffer such things; and what fits not they endeavour to patch up with some feign’d coherency._

_But if in the midst of this =busie Idlenesse= they would admit a severe consideration of more important duties neglected the while, a few disentangled thoughts would rout the Troop of their fond Imaginations._

_Some peradventure not altogether satisfied with that which I have said, may reply, What, then is Fancy uselesse? Is it not one of the naturall faculties of the Soul? Were any of them made to no purpose? Is there any more proper entertainment for it then the Conceit and Language of a well-form’d Romance? Many books, which pretend to declare better matters to us, do it so jejunely, that it is a work of more then ordinary patience to give them the reading; and we are put into a doubt, whether or no those who wrote them did intend any should make use of their Understandings in the perusall of them, or whether they were able to give that which others would expect as a reasonable satisfaction. Besides, we perceive many Books of grave Titles so afflicted with Disputes about troublesome niceties and trifling Capriccio’s, that wise persons find the books as little of kin to their Names, as the Contents are of small Furtherance to their best Concernments._

_To these things I answer; Fancy is not uselesse, and may as lawfully be gratified with excellent forms of Invention, as the Eye may entertain it self with the Beauty of well-plac’d Colours, or the Sense of Smelling please it self with the odours of a delicious Rose. But though it be a Naturall Faculty, yet it is under discipline of the Supreme Governesse of Soul and Body, Reason; and when it wanders without its Keeper, out-staying its time in allowed diversions, or transgressing the limits of such Subjects as sound Judgement permits, it returns abus’d with hurtfull delight, and instead of being us’d decently, is unworthily prostituted: in whose behalf the Rationall Guide, which is not farre off, will take notice and complain, as it doth often, and whip the Vagrant, and not spare to reproach it with the cheap reward of foolish recreation, for the enjoyment of which she mispent the time which she took from her Prayers, and, it may be, for the reading of an Idle Story neglected the Examination of her Conscience; and afterward is made to understand that the same pleasure which was pretended to be sought abroad, is to be found at Home. For Reason is no such severe Mistresse as to detain us with Awe that is void of Love and Joy; but besides the solid Complacencies of Vertue, allows also the chearfull entertainments of Wit and Fancy. There are Books good store where Truths of greatest Importance are presented neither besmeared with loathsome Nonsence, nor blended with unprofitable Disputes, which adde nothing to Religion, but trouble and darknesse, and where Excellent sense and good words offer themselves in such lovely Embraces, that they are a perfect content to all beholders but such as cannot Fancy, Understand and Love. Wit and ability of mind do so shine in many Religious Discourses, that we cannot justly make that pretended defect an Excuse for our deferring of sober studies. Now God forbid that we should think his Gifts so imprudently thrown amongst men, that none should be able to get them that would use them to the adorning of that which most deserves it, Vertue; which, though by reason of its innate beauty it least needs any adventitious ornament, yet doth not scorn the light vaile of Romance, if it be of that fashion which I shall by and by describe._