 | Poetick Miscellanies of Mr John Rawlet |  |
109
Seneca Epist. 70.
If we'l be friends, it seems I must relateMy each days actions; see at what a rate
Of freedom I converse with thee, and will
Keep nothing from thee, so to keep thee still.
I visit now the Schools, and lately there
Did the Philosophers disputing hear.
What at these years? why not? what should I scorn
To learn at length, 'cause I have long forborn?
I justly happy should my self esteem,
Was this the only act did misbeseem
My years. This School all ages doth admit;
Let us whilst young, when old let's visit it.
I to the Theater am carri'd, age
Is held no plea to keep me from the Stage.
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'Twixt Gladiators, but I see it plaid.
Are Sports before Philosophy prefer'd?
Must those be seen, and may not this be heard?
Perfection only may dismission give
From Learning; whilst thou liv'st, learn how to live.
Receive this necessary truth from me,
Who'm old my self, old men should learners be.
But Oh the madness of our age! when I
(As in my way, you know, to th' Schools) pass by
Th' Italian Theater, what crowding's there
(So men about the Cryer flock) to hear
The Græcian Musick, here Oh toyish pride;
Who tunes his Pipes best Auditors decide.
Mean while those places where good men should be,
We only full of empty Seats do see.
Yea and their few frequenters most deride
As dronish fools, men lazily imploy'd.
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A fools contempt, a wise man will contemn.
On, on Lucilius, now thy Studies ply,
Lest growing old, thou Scholar turn, as I
Am glad to do: Now hasten, or undone,
Thy age will leave the work thy youth begun.
Why, why what progress should I make? Dost ask?
What yet hast done? what thinkst? Believe't a task
Wisdom to get; high titles may, I know,
And unsought Honours be conferred; so
Men may be wealthy by inheritance;
But where's the man whose virtue came by chance?
This, this with pains is got, 'twill cost no less
The man that would in one all goods possess.
What's honest, only's good; those things that please
The fancies of the vulgar, nor in these
Is certainty or truth; I'le tell you why
I think thus: for I did not justifie
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This my assertion, but did praise it more
Than prove it; In a word then, each thing's known
Good, by what's first and properly its own,
Thus we commend the cluster-laded Vines,
The industrious servant, and good tasted Wines.
Why is the Carriers horse made strong i'th' back?
But 'cause he is appointed for the pack.
'Mongst a variety of dogs, in those
That hunt the Game by th' sent, we praise the nose.
Swiftness in them that take their prey by flight;
Fierceness in those which with wild beasts do fight.
In every creature what's most genuine
And self-peculiar, answering the design
'Twas made for, that it's best is judged; then
Reason's the best accomplishment of men.
Reason doth man farthest from brutes remove,
Exalts him nearest to the Gods above.
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In other things beasts share as well as he.
Is he indu'd with strength? so Lions are.
With beauty? why, the Peacock may compare
With him. Or is he swift? so is an Horse.
I need not say Man in all these is th' worse.
Excluding accidents, what can he claim
For his? He hath a body; true, the same
Have Trees. Or voluntary motion, so
Have worms: A voice; but Dogs we know
Have shriller mouths: A Bull can louder roar
Than he can hollow: Nightingales have more
Melodious throats. Reason is therefore his,
His happiness depends alone on this.
If Beings have a proper good, and then
Begin to be accounted happy, when
The good they were design'd for, they possess;
Reason consummate, is mans happiness.
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Synonimous both these expressions be.
We now enquire not what in general
Is good, but what we may a mans Good call.
Virtue, thou say'st, is eas'ly understood,
That it is a, but not the only good.
Yet it appears so, since in all you love
Virtue by't self: in all, Vice disapprove.
Suppose a man blest with o'reflowing wealth,
Honours, Retinue, Friends all great, good health;
Yet can these outside bravenesses scarce see
You to approve him, if he vicious be.
On th' other hand, imagine one in wants,
Friendless, ne're waited on by Supplicants;
Claiming no honour as his birthright, no
Continued line of Ancestors can show;
Yet his known goodness will thy love procure
Maugre those disadvantages: Then sure
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Which in the absence of all other can
Get that esteem; nought else can, wanting this.
The like in other things apparent is.
A painted fineness, Gold or Silver beak,
Rich lading, Ivory Ceilings, do not speak.
Ships therefore good, but a close-jointed building
Well rigg'd into a firmness, neither yielding
To waves or storms; a fitness to obey
The Pilots hand that doth direct its way.
The Sword it self we praise not for the gilt
Belt that it hangs in; for a Silver Hilt,
Or Scabbard set with Pearls; but when it's made
Of well-wrought steel, an Armour-piercing Blade.
So in his Rule, the skilful Architect
Doth straightness, not fine workmanship respect.
Each thing claims praise for th' innate properties
That serve its end, not bare appendices.
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Their Chests with Us'ry, how much Land they till;
How many crouching Honourers they have,
What costly Glass they drink in, or how brave
Rich Beds they lie on, what fine Clothes they wear,
How high they live: No, but how good they are.
And then they're good, when in their actions they,
Reason conform'd to Nature's Laws, obey.
This Virtue is, which doth its owners make
Blessed; and works as they of this partake,
Goodness derive; since nought but what doth flow
From this is good, sure it alone is so.
If you will grant all humane goods consin'd
To vvhat's most properly the man, his Mind,
Virtue alone will be admitted, vvhich
Confirms, enlarges to the noblest pitch,
Exalts the soul; Whatever else incites,
And seems to gratifie our appetites,
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Such objects whilst they speciously pretend
To heighten our conditions, they but raise
An empty swelling pride, and so debase
Our minds, and with the pageantry of Shews
And pompous Nothings, they our hopes abuse.
In all our actions reference must be had
For guidance of our lives, to Good and Bad.
From those impartially consulted, we
Learn what perform'd, what must omitted be.
Let the resolv'd good man his duty know,
He will thereto through hardships, losses, go,
And threatning dangers; but no proffer'd price,
No honour, safety, ease, can him intice
To what dishonest seems; no hopes invite
Him to what's ill; from good no fears affright.
Virtue and Vice seem only good and ill,
Since a respect to these should rule our will,
118
An even Virtue which all times the same
Tenour retains, is of all goods the best,
Because who own it once, are dispossest
Thereof by no attempts of force or art:
This Wisdom ne're to folly can revert.
We meet with frequent instances of those,
Whose inconsulted rashness doth expose
Them to those hardships common spirits fear,
Who trample on what others hold most dear.
Thus have some Voluntaries dar'd to hold
Their hands like fire-brands in the flames; whose bold
Resolved laughter not the tort'ring rack
Disturb'd, but they could smile whilst sinews crack.
Men of such hardned tempers oft have been,
Whose tearless eyes their Children dead have seen;
Who have encountred Death in fearless sort.
Thus Love, Ambition, Rage dare dangers court.
119
Than but a fit of furious senslesness?
Nor good nor ill those things are, which the wise
Always, and which sometimes the rash despise.
'Tis virtue only hath deserv'd the name
Of good, which 'midst all Fortune's still the same,
Walks with a noble and regardless state;
Rendred by none dejected, nor elate.
That ought is good beside what's honest, this
Conceit destructive of all Virtue is.
Hence men will think they may, and strive to find
Somewhat that's good, not seated in the mind.
But this Opinion is false, this course
Repugnant is to Reason, Virtues source.
He the good man, you will confess, appears
Who most religiously the Gods reveres,
Who, what misfortunes ever him befall,
Doth with a chearful patience bear them all;
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Which to each one his portion doth dispence.
Then with an argument this strengthens us,
Since pious Honesty doth dictate thus,
To be submissive to the Gods, and not
Fret at mischances, nor bewail our lot,
Nor quarrel at their Orders, but resign
Our selves to them, and do what they enjoyn.
If any thing but Honesty may go
For good, what inward vexings hence will flow?
An anxious wish a long life to attain,
Follow'd with carking restlesness to gain
Life's Utensils, which is an endless care,
Roving, and vain, which no wise man can bear.
But Honesty, that certain good is found,
Which our affections, and pursuits can bound.
If pomp, wealth, pleasures, make us happy, then
We may the Gods less happy judg than men.
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We justly hope a more exalted state,
Than what they now arrive at whilst immerst
In duller matter: but it will be worst,
If these enjoyments which she doth partake
By th' bodies mediation, for its sake
Are real goods; But how absurd is this
To think the Souls release can worst its bliss?
Shall the wide World-expatiating free mind
Fall short of what it was when earth-confind?
If ought external's good, we must confess,
Beasts share herein, and so in blessedness.
But Honesty the only good we call,
For which wise men dare do and suffer all.
But raise thy thoughts a while, and then if clear
This notion doth not to thy self appear,
I'l make thy self the judg: Imagine then
Thy death might hugely serve thy Country-men,
122
Suffer, yea, and embrac't with willingness.
See what a price on Honesty you set,
Whilst ev'n for it, you all things else forget.
You for the common good dare dye, altho
You dye as soon as of your death you know.
Else in a small time intervening, they
Who nobly dye, rewarding pleasures may
Conceive: Tho slaughter'd Heroes in their Grave,
Of Earths affairs no farther knowledg have;
Tho their brave actions here perform'd, create
No satisfaction in a future state;
Yet whilst they in premeditation view
The fair advantages which will ensue
Their deaths (which like themselves had noble ends)
Their Countries good, or safety of their Friends,
They suffer not, but rather death enjoy,
Whilst in a pleasing extasy they dye.
123
Deprives them of the last great pleasure, that
Their forethoughts might afford, without delay
Dare fearless meet their hasty death, whilst they
All other interests wave, content alone
A well-deserving action to have done.
Offer disswasives to their enterprize,
Tell them their more deserving memories
Will not survive them long, their Country too
Unkind, will undervalue what they do.
To all they'l answer, These are by-respects;
This work not for self-relative effects,
But for its Honesty, we undertake,
Which nothing can perswade us to forsake.
This is th' apparent good which not alone
The perfect, but all generous minds do own.
All other things men study to attain,
Are poor enjoyments, mutable and vain;
124
Got and possest with equal anxious care.
And tho indulgent fortune may amass
And heap them on her favourites, alas!
They are but burthens which the bearers press,
Sometimes o'rewhelm them with their weightiness.
The Purpled Nobles, Silken Gallants, those
Men gaze at so, if search'd into, disclose
Themselves but owners of an happiness.
The Stage-play Actor borrows from his dress,
Which richly glorious, with a stately port
Like the great one he personates, extort
To's assum'd self some few hours reverence from
Wanton spectators, who returning home,
Are soon of those opinions dispossest,
He into's former meanness is undrest.
They are not great whom raised we behold
To Honours heights, or Mountain tops of Gold:
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On common eyes, which misconceive them great,
And fail to take their altitude aright,
Measuring the Ground they stand on for their height.
A Dwarf's a Dwarf, tho plac'd upon an Hill;
A Giant in a Vail's a Giant still.
But we for th' man mistake his ornaments,
For what's his own but borrow'd accidents;
Divest him of his Riches, Honours, those
Bounties of flatt'ring Fortune, which impose
On ignorant admirers, whose short view
Reacheth but outsides; wave his Body too:
Then make a judgment of him whether he
Great from himself, or from externals be.
Can he with lively looks, heart undistrest
Behold the glitt'ring Blade set to his breast,
126
His wider wound forth from his body fly?
Can he with an unmoved patience bear
The great'st misfortunes? And when he shall hear
Threatnings of Tortures, Prison, Banishment,
Or all that witty Tyrannies invent,
As their own pleasures, and the Coward's fears,
Can boldly say, No danger now appears
To me? I long since have forethought them all;
Learn'd to prepare for whatsoe're may fall?
Preexpectation doth alleviate ill,
Which blinder confidents of fortune will
As not foreseen, and sudden, strange esteem,
And this surprisal makes it greater seem:
For what intolerable did appear
At the first sight, by use men learn to bear.
What sufferings, Fools, that Providence the Wise
Doth teach, who thereby doth familiarize
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Thought not such fortunes did await us, he
Did to the worst himself obnoxious know;
Come what will come, he knew it might be so.
| Poetick Miscellanies of Mr John Rawlet | |