A Triple Paradox, Part 2
SLANDER is more Beneficiall than PRAISE.
WHo, can expreſs the pain of being ſtung
With ſuch a fiery Serpent as the TONGUE?
Or, what can cure it, but his being ey'd,
Whom, once, the Brazen Serpent typifi'd?
'Tis far more ſharp than Arrows, Darts or Spears;
Down to the heart, it pierces through the ears;
Not only wounds, but frighteth alſo more
Than murthring Canons, when they loudeſt roar;
Afflicteth us, whilſt here we draw our breath,
And, Gangreeve-like, ſo ſpreadeth after death
(Ev'n to poſterity upon our Names)
That it deſtroys the life of honeſt Fames.
This ſury SLANDER, hath been quarter'd long,
In Rotten-Row, and Hart-ſtreet, at the Tongue;
Her Magazeens and Forges are all there,
The Shop at which ſhe vents them, is the Ear,
In ev'ry Town and City; and no places
Or perſons, her aſperſions and diſgraces
Can long avoid: For, ev'ry where ſhe ſcatters
That ſhot wherewith the Forts of Fame ſhe batters.
So venemous it is, that every touch
Proves mortal, or indangers very much,
And nothing ſhooteth more impoyſoned pellets,
Except it be the flatteries of Prelates.
I muſt confeſs, that many years ago
I therewith have been often wounded ſo
That, very well, content I could have been
To lye down, where I might no more be ſeen;
And, my ſtupidity is not, yet, ſuch
As not to feel indignities as much
As any man: But, I have learned how
To change my Sickneſſes to Phyſick, now:
And when the world intendeth me a ſhame
By retroverſion to convert the ſame
To that, which from be ſpattrings purifies,
And makes me both her Blame and Praiſe deſpiſe,
No more diſpleaſ'd, or pleaſed therewithall
Than if a whibling Cur, ſhould fawn or bawl.
For, unto thoſe Oppreſſions, heretofore
And now lay'd on me, whatſoever more
The world ſhall add; though they a while oppreſs,
Will, ſhortly, make them, not alone much leſs
But, alſo none at all; and wheel about
Upon her ſelf, as ſoon as my Turn's out.
Praiſe, is a pleaſing thing, to fleſh and blood,
Yet, often doth it much more harm than good;
Puffs up with Pride, ore-weening and vain glory,
Or, with affection to things tranſitory
Beyond a ſafe Mean; and makes men ſuppoſe
Themſelves to be, what ev'ry neighbour knows
They are not; yea, what they themſelves do ſee
They neither are, nor poſſibly can be.
Whereas, to be without a cauſe deſpiſ'd,
Diſpraiſ'd, reproach'd, ſcoft, jeer'd and ſcandaliz'd,
An undue ſelf-opinion doth remove
True Meekneſs and Humility improve;
Brings Conſtancy and Patience to their tryal,
And, at the laſt, to ſuch a Self-denial,
As in the cloſe will more contentment give us
Than all, whereof a Slander can deprive us.
The flatteries of his Lords, made Joaſh ſtumble,
Reviling ſpeeches, made King David humble,
Good men, by praiſes, oft, are evil made,
But, by Reproaches harm they never had.
The World, which beſt is pleaſ'd with her own baubles
For that falſe titulary honor ſcrabbles,
Which is compoſ'd of aiery Attributes,
Or, which opinion only conſtitutes:
And, all her happineſs, dependant ſeems
On vulgar approbations and eſteems,
Which are, indeed, her Portion: but, to thoſe,
Who can look both beyond, and through the Shows,
That ſuch Toies make, nought therein doth appear
To merit their deſire, love, hate or fear:
And, therefore, they reſpect them, (come, or go)
As Reaſon them obliges thereunto,
Or, as things, which (if grace divine be granted) them,
Indifferently, may be poſſeſt or wanted;
Make ſuch uſe as they ſerve to, whilſt they have
And yield them, when reſum'd, to thoſe who gave them.
For, had external honours in this place,
Been truly more eſſential than diſgrace,
To happineſs eternal; CHRIST had waved
The ſcandals of the Croſs; we had been ſaved
And ſanctifi'd ſhould be without thoſe troubles,
Scorns and reproaches, which the world now doubles
And may redouble: yea, in vain had he
A promiſe made, that they ſhould bleſſed be
Who in his ſufferings do with him partake,
And are reproach'd and ſlander'd for his ſake.
Theſe things conſider'd, I am at full reſt;
Slanders infringe not my chief intereſt.
Good or Ill Words will me no more concern
When I am dead, than when I was unborn.
And, whilſt I live, (as is inferr'd before)
They harm a little, and they profit more.
If Scandals neither mend nor mar my health,
Increaſe not troubles, nor decreaſe my wealth,
Save in opinion onelyonly; all thoſe loſtes
Are cur'd, if my vote, that opinion croſſes.
And (prare who liſt) I will as merry bee
As is a Pye upon a Cherry-tree.
Praiſe, or diſpraiſes, if ſo be my heart
Aſſures, that neither of them by deſert
To mee belongs, my own Phanatick brain
Is cauſe of all, where of I do complain,
Or take delight in: praiſe, blame, bleſs, or curſe,
I am no whit the better, or the worſe;
And, all men are as much concern'd as I
In what's then ſpoken be it Truth, or Lye.
If of a hundred Crimes I guilty were,
All which, as evidently did appear,
As in a cloudleſs day, the Sun at noon;
The world, but as the ſpots within the Moon,
Would look upon them, if, for my defence
I have a face well braz'd with impudence;
An Oily Tongue, a Crocodiles moiſt eye,
Can finde great Friends, bribe, flatter, fawn and lye,
Ore-awe my neighbours, or, my ſelf expreſs
A friend to them, in their licentiouſneſſe.
But, were I, both in words and deeds, as free
From juſt reproof, as mortal man may be,
Had I, but one great neighbour, who envies
All men ſuppoſ'd more honeſt, or more wiſe,
Than hee is thought; therewith a neighbourhood,
Which takes delight in nothing that is good;
Abhorring all, as their injurious foes,
Who, them, in their unrighteous waies oppoſe;
Or, if I be conſtrained to have dealing,
With ſuch, by ſome relation, or nigh dwelling,
Who think, there's nothing rational or juſt,
But, what tends to their profit, or their luſt;
It is impoſſible to ſcape the wrongs
Of wicked hands, or of malicious tongues:
And, therefore, he, with whom it thus doth fare
Muſt ſtudy patience, how his lot to bear;
And in this caſe, can look for no defence
But from GODS Juſtice, and his Innocence,
Which is ſufficient unto them that know
What conſolations from thoſe fountains flow.
What, is there to be fear'd in Slandrous Tales,
Whether, they ſhall be either true or falſe?
A falſe Report more miſchieves thoſe who ſpread it,
Than harmeth me. If it impairs my credit,
I may recover it again ere long,
And alſo peradventure, by that wrong
Improve ſome Vertue, or abate ſome Pride,
Within my ſelf till that time, uneſpy'd.
Although hard words, give harder knocks than ſtones,
And crack our Credits, yet, they break no Bones;
And, if unjuſtly thrown, by ſpightful fingers,
They prove moſt miſchievous unto their flingers.
One fault which Conſcience findes, afflicts me more
Than twenty ſlanders, yea than twenty ſcore:
So long as that lyes quietly in me,
I ſhall not care who my Accuſers be;
And, when that ſhall accuſe me (as ſometime
It doth) I ſue out an Appeal to him
Who ſtraight acquits me; elſe I muſt confeſs
I ſhould as much fear mine own Righteouſneſs
As all my Sins; for, I eſteem them both
Alike impure, and as a menſtruous cloath.
If I am juſtly blam'd for things miſdone,
Or, for faults wherein I am going on,
It doth by bringing on me ſhame of face,
Repentance bring, and to that, ſtate of Grace
From which I falling was; and ſtay the courſe
Which might have drawn me on from bad to worſe,
Until, that by habituated ſin,
Endleſs Impenitency had broke in:
Much more, therefore, to theſe I am a debter
Who ſpeak ill, than to thoſe men who ſpeak better
Than I deſerve: And, though that in their ends
They differ, they may be as uſeful friends
Who ſpeak of me opprobriouſly, ſometimes,
As they, who praiſe me, or excuſe my crimes.
For, I have long obſerv'd that all Relations,
Nigh or far off (what ever Obligations
Have nearly joyned them, or whatſoere
Their Quarrels, Bonds, or Diſobligements are)
Be (for the moſt part) either friends or foes,
But, as a proſp'rous, or a croſs wind blows;
Or, as their inter'ſt or Expectancy
May be ſecur'd, or doth at hazzard lye.
The Love or Hatred, which I finde in them,
Differs but in the Meaſure, or the Time,
Or, in th' Occaſions, which have them inclin'd,
To friendlineſs, or elſe to be unkinde.
They frown or ſmile they praiſe, or they diſgrace,
Deſtroy and ſave, and ſtab, or elſe imbrace,
Even as the fit which comes upon them, takes them,
And either pleaſed, or diſpleaſed makes them.
Such will their words and deeds be then to thee,
What ere thou art to them, or they to thee.
As bitter Language, I have heard 'twixt thoſe
That were dear Lovers, as 'twixt greateſt Foes,
Yea, and more bitter too, in ſome reſpects
Conſidering their Cauſes and Effects.
A Foes Revilings very ſharp appear,
But, when our Friends exaſperated are
With, or without Cauſe given of offence,
There is between them greater difference
(Or at the leaſt, but very little leſs)
Than taſted is between the bitterneſs
Of unpeel'd Wallnut-kernels, and ſtrong Gall,
VVhen with our tongues diſtinguiſh them we ſhall.
Moreover, I have ſometimes alſo ſeen
That, they, who have unto each other been
Moſt miſchievous, ſo reconcil'd together
(Though little vertue hath appear'd in either)
So kind in words and deeds, for outward ends,
And, ſo ingaged mutually as friends
In their Concernments, as if they had never
At variance been; but, hearty friends for ever.
VVhichWhich, when I mind, I neither pleaſure have
In Praiſes, nor do ſlanders me bereave
Of much content, from whom ſoe're they come,
So long as I finde Innocence at home;
Nor, in my own reſpect at any time,
So griev'd am I, as otherwhile for them
VVho have miſ-cenſur'd me; becauſe I know
From what diſtempers uſually they flow;
And that the ſob'reſt and the wiſeſt men
Have ſome Deliriums on them now and then.
Exception is not alwayes to be took
By what ſhall by a Friend or Foe be ſpoke:
For, men in paſſion, whether they appear.
Pleas'd or diſpleas'd, ſpeak few things as they are,
Nor alwayes as they think, but, rather ſay
That, which the paſſion bearing then chief ſway
Tranſports them to; although a wound it give
To their own ſouls, which pains them whilſt they live.
But, Friends and Foes, both good and ill report,
And, all terreſtrial things of every ſort,
VVill ſhortly have an end (with me at leaſt.)
The worſt, as well as that whereof the beſt
Eſteem I had, will into nothing fly:
My Slanders, and my Slanderers will dye.
At preſent, therefore them no more I dread
Than if I ſaw they were already dead;
And, that which dead or living, ſhall to me
Befall, will equally forgotten be.
By living, I, their ſcandals may out-live,
And good proofs of my innocency give.
VVhen I am dead, what ever men ſhall pleaſe
To ſpeak or do, it cannot me diſeaſe:
And, they who after death do men defame,
Or ſhall expoſe their bodies unto ſhame,
Bring that diſhonour which they did intend
To others, on themſelves, at latter end:
Yea, make ſome queſtion, and ſuſpect their merits;
Repute them perſons of ignoble ſpirits;
And, what they hoped ſhould confirm their peace,
Their terrours and their dangers will increaſe.
Slanders (though poyſon in themſelves) have been
To me a precious Antidote for ſin,
Preventing, not a few times more than one,
That, wherein elſe perhaps I had miſ-done,
(And I, thereby, effects like his have found
Who had a Sickneſs cured by a wound)
Whereas, contrariwiſe, a vain Applauſe
Of ſins or follies, are a frequent cauſe.
I well remember, that, when I was young
(And in both kinds an Object of the Tongue,
As now I am) I reaped, many wayes,
By Slanders, much more profit than by Praiſe.
For, Praiſes made me ſometimes over-ween,
And (as if no defects in me had been)
Neglect the means, that, ſupplements might add
To what, I more in Show, than Subſtance had.
It, likewiſe, me to envy did expoſe,
From which great diſadvantages aroſe,
And ſcandals, without cauſe: But Grace divine
Croſs'd thereby, what the Devil did deſign:
For, Defamation, ſo ſoon was begun,
That, what it charg'd me with, was never done.
That, ſin prevented was, and many more
By ſending of the Scandal forth before
The Crime was acted; So, into a Bleſſing
A Curſe was turn'd, which merits this confeſſing;
And alſo, me obliges, all my dayes,
On all occaſions, to give GOD the praiſe;
For, if, perhaps it had over-flowed then,
The ſtream had never kept his bounds again.
The ſcoffs and jeers, caſt on me by the Rimes
Of ſome reputed Poets in theſe times
Have been my great advantage: for, th' eſteem
Which in my youthful dayes I had of them
Had elſe perhaps, from my ſimplicity
Drawn me, by their familiarity
To thoſe affected Vanities with which
They have infected fools, and claw'd their itch.
Were I but as ambitious of that name
A POET, as they are, and think I am,
It might a little vex me, when I hear
How often, in their Pamphlets me they jear,
Becauſe, Truth ſeaſonably I convey
To ſuch as need it, in a homely way,
Beſt pleaſing unto thoſe who do not care
To crack hard ſhells in which no kernels are;
Or for ſtrong Lines, in which is little found,
Save an affected phraſe, and empty ſound.
But, I do read them with a ſmiling pitty
To finde them to be wicked, who are witty.
At their Detractions, I do not repine;
Their Poems I eſteem as they do mine:
Their Cenſures, I with ſleighting overpaſs,
Who, like words without ſenſe, wit without grace;
And, better am contented, without cauſe
To hear their miſ-reports, than their Applauſe.
As alſo, that, they ſhould by Pantaloons
Admired be, and honour'd by Buffoons.
Yea, as Iob ſaid, ſhould they a Book compile
Againſt me (as they may, and did erewhile)
I would receive it, on my ſhoulders bear it,
And as a Crown, upon my head would wear it.
My fearleneſs of SLANDERS doth not flow
From Ignorance, which hinders me to know
How, I am ſcandaliz'd: for it appears
In Print and I have heard it through both ears.
I daily hear what ignominious lyes
Detraction, to defame me doth deviſe.
I know, whence they proceed; whereto they tend,
In what likewiſe they poſſibly may end:
And it would ſtagger and affright me too,
Unleſs I knew the worſt, all this could do
For, they, who Idolize the Prelacy
Impute to me no leſs than Blaſphemy,
And Sacriledge: And, I may well expect
That, when their hopes have taken full effect,
Though they with me at preſent, do but dandle,
They then will curſe me with Bell, Book and Candle.
How ever, for their perſons I will pray:
For, malice hath not mov'd me to gain-ſay
Their Prelacy; nor hope to get again
What they uſurp, and doth to me pertain:
But, meerly conſcientiouſneſs of that
Which in my place I vow'd to vindicate.
Some, call me Traytor too; but well I wot,
They do not ſo beleeve, or know me not.
I never did betray my truſt to any,
Though I my ſelf have been betray'd by many.
With Traytors I have numbred beenf or one,
And ſerv'd their ends, yet I my ſelf was none:
For, if like Abſolone they did pretend
To Sacrifice, and had another end,
I went on in ſimplicity of heart,
And did not from my Principles depart.
If they intended, or committed Treaſon,
I wronged not my Conſcience, or my Reaſon.
By ought miſ-done, except it were, perchance,
Through over-ſight, or elſe through Ignorance;
For which, the Plagues now Epidemical,
To me, as unto other men befall.
I never was in any factious Plot,
Nor likely ſeems it, by what I have got,
That, with them in their Actings, I was one
VVho, thriv'd by thoſe deſigns they carried on,
Though being ſubject to the preſent Law,
I now do ſuffer, like Jack Fletchers Daw.
But, howſoere, I ſeem to merit blame
None, to the King, are truer than I am.
Yet, if in Fame, we credit may repoſe,
I am deſigned to be one of thoſe,
VVho ſhall not be vouchſaf'd that Common grace,
VVhichWhich at his Coronation granted was.
GOD's will be done: Perhaps, the King well knows
I need not, what on others he beſtows;
Or, to me, ſingly, will his favour ſhow,
That I his Magnanimity may know;
And, that he will more gracious be to thoſe
VVho, him did not maliciouſly oppoſe,
Than they, whom I did ſerve, were to their friends,
Becauſe they did not ſerve them, to their ends.
But, if Report hath not divulg'd a Lye,
VVhat, can I loſe, or others get thereby?
My whole eſtate, already is bereft,
And, what will there be found, where's nothing left?
My life, you'l ſay; Alas! that's little worth,
It hath been waſting, ever ſince my birth;
And (when it was at beſt) too poor a thing,
To ſatisfie the Vengeance of a King.
It will to moſt men ſeem ridiculous,
To hear a Lion Rampant, kill'd a Mouſe,
Or, ſee an Eagle ſtoop down from on high,
To truſſe a Titmouſe, or a Butterfly.
The dread of ſuch a loſs will not come neer me,
For, Age will ſhortly kill me, though he ſpare me;
And, when there's no conveniency of living,
Life, neither is worth asking or the giving.
But GOD's intentions, and the hearts of Kings,
Are ſuch inſcrutable and hidden things,
That, none can ſearch their bottomes; then much leſs
Can they be fathom'd by maliciouſneſs.
Their wayes of working their own pleaſures out,
Are, many times, by wheeling round about,
By croſs and counter-actings, and by thoſe
Which ſeem'd their own Deſignments to oppoſe.
The faithfull'ſt men, they do expoſe oft-times
To hazzards; or wirh ſuch as are for crimes
Condemn'd, they number them; or, prove them by
Deſertions, diſ-reſpects, and Poverty;
And, frequently, do fit them for thoſe places
Wherein they beſt may ſerve them, by diſgraces;
But principally, at thoſe times, wherein,
Hypocriſie, becomes the Reigning-ſin.
More things I might inſert, which have relations
In this kinde, to my own prevarications,
And, to th' Improvements, which have oft enſu'd
By Scandals, which I then would have eſchew'd.
But, my Experiments will work on none,
VVho cannot by their own, be wrought upon.
Conſider therefore all ye unto whom
This Writing, by GOD's providence doth come,
VVhat, in your ſelves and others, you have heeded,
VVhichWhich hath from Slanders, and from Praiſe proceeded;
And, you ſhall finde more by the laſt undone
Than by the former, at leaſt, ten to one.
According to our Proverb, the Bell clinketh
Juſt ſo, as in his fancy, the fool thinketh
And, they who flattring praiſes love to hear,
Immediately, ſuch to themſelves appear,
As repreſented by their Paraſite,
Though no more like than Black-ſwans are to white.
Such Panegyricks I have ſometime ſeen
That, hard to be reſolved, it had been,
By him, whoſe judgement you therein ſhould crave,
Whether, the Panegyriſt were more knave
Than he was Fool, for whom, the ſame was made:
But, of their equal Impudence I had
No doubt at all, when wiſtly I had heeded
What one gave, tother took, and what ſucceeded.
For, I have oftentimes obſerv'd, thereby,
Good Men deprav'd; Great Men, to Tyranny
Incouraged; That, which is due to men
By Natures Law, at firſt, they ſeize and then
Thoſe Attributes, at laſt, intrude upon
That ought to be aſcrib'd to GOD alone.
Which evidences, that, Immodeſt Praiſe
Is worſe than Slander, and a ground-work layes,
Whereon a ſuperſtructure may be built,
To ſink the Builders, down to ſhame and guilt.
SLANDERS, and Perſecutions of the Tongue
A portion likewiſe is, which doth belong
Unto the Saints; and ſanctifi'd they are
By him, with whom, an individual ſhare
Each muſt expect; we, do but only ſup
At brim, he drunk the bottome of the Cup:
We altogether merited the blame,
He underwent the ſorrow and the ſhame.
Falſe witneſſes againſt him were ſuborn'd;
His Glory was to his diſhonour turn'd;
His neareſt friends forſook him, and forſwore him,
His foes preferr'd a Murtherer before him;
His Innocency not alone reproaching,
But, likewiſe moſt injuriouſly incroaching:
Upon his righteous perſon, him purſu'd
Till by a ſhameful death, he death ſubdu'd,
And breaking from the grave, to Heav'n aſcended,
By Angels to Immortal Life attended;
Where, now inthron'd, he Thrones prepared hath
For all, who follow him in that rough path;
And every ſlander, ſcorn, reproach and ſhame,
He ſuffr'd here, adds glory to his Name.
This is the way, and hath been ever ſince,
Through which all men muſt paſs, who go from hence
To that Eternity, where ſhall be worn
The Robes of honour, when the Rags of ſcorn
Shall off be thrown. On him I fix mine eyes,
And, that, will me enable to deſpiſe
Terreſtrial ſhame and honour: That, makes all
My troubles, when at greateſt, ſeem but ſmall.
That, makes me, whilſt my Body is confin'd,
Take pleaſure, in the freedomes of the Minde;
Not dreading preſent, or enſuing wrongs,
Of wicked hands, or of malicious tongues.
This Paradox, it helps me to maintain,
That, where the Grace of GOD is not in vain,
More profit, bittereſt reproach affords,
Than all the worlds Applauſes, and fair words.