EUgenius, who was not at all indispos’d to listen to Exhortations of this Nature, not only imbrac’d this made him by his Friend, but with earnestness enough continu’d the Conference to explain his meaning, and satisfie Eusebius, that he did not think Piety fit to be discountenanc’d, though he thought Hypocrisie was so, and that he was no Enemy to the Profession of Religion, but to those that blemish’d it by unsuitable Practices. And with such kind of Discourses we continu’d our Walk, till being come to a Style, over which we were to pass out of one Meadow into another, I chanc’d to stop, and turn about to pay Lindamor the Respect of desiring him to lead me the way over: But not finding him there, I hastily cast my Eyes all over the Field, till at length they discover’d him a good way off, in a Posture that seem’d extremely serious, and wherein he stood as immoveable as a Statue. This sight soon carry’d me towards him, and I had dispatch’d half my way before his changing his Posture gave him an opportunity to discover me, which as soon as he did, he immediately came to meet me, and almost before I had ask’d him the occasion of what I had seen; Whilst (reply’d he) Eugenius was purging himself from a fault that none that knows him will suspect him to be guilty of, I was detain’d a little behind you by the Musick of one of those Larks, whose melody was so charming, that I could not find in my heart to make haste from it: But whilst I was listening to it, my Attention was diverted by a nobler Object, for I heard, from the further corner of this Meadow, a Voice, which, though not govern’d with Skil, did so repair the want of it by its native sweetness, that Art was absent without being miss’d, and I could not but have some Curiosity to see who was the Possessor of so much power to please; turning then my steps towards that part of the Field whence the Voice came, my Eyes quickly ceas’d to envy my Ears, for they discover’d, kneeling by a Cow, and singing to her whilst she milk’d her, a Person, who, in the habit of a Milk-maid, seem’d to disguise one of those Nymphs that Poets are wont to describe us. And that you may not wonder, continues Lindamor, at what I shall say to you of a country Girle, Know, that methought I saw in her Face something more like Hermione, before she prov’d inconstant, than I expected to find in any of her Sex: I will not tell you, that this fair Creature had the Blushes of the Morning in her Cheeks, the Splendour of the Sun in her Eyes, the freshness of the Fields in her Looks, the whiteness of the Milk she express’d in her Skin, and the melody of the Larks, we were admiring, in her Voice, least you should think Mr. Boyls Seraphick Love had lost its Operation on me. But I may perhaps without much Hyperbole, give you this Account of her, that though her Cloaths are almost as course as cleanly, and though they are suited to her Condition, yet they are very ill suited to her Beauty, which, as if Nature intended a Triumph over Fortune, has, without any assistance of Ornament, more distress’d my Liberty, than others have been able to do with all their most curious Dresses. And this fair Creature, continues Lindamor, as she is rich in Natures bounty, appear’d as well by the chearfulness of the Tune she sung, as by the manner of her Singing it, so satisfy’d with the unpurchas’d Treasures she possesses, that she seem’d almost as much pleas’d as I was to look upon her. This Character of Lindamors inviting me to go see, whether or no it were deserv’d, and the frequent Experience I have had, that ev’n upon such bright Eyes as Poets, and Lovers, call’d Suns, I could gaze undazel’d enough to approve my self a right Eagle, assuring me I might safely do it, I fearlesly, but softly, approach’d the place where the fair Milk-maid was solliciting the Udder of a fresh Cow, and I found, that though indeed some Resemblance she had to Hermione, had made Lindamor flatter her, yet she look’d at once so innocently, and prettily, that she seem’d like to do Mischief, without at all intending it; and I could not but fancy, that if some Ladies that are much cry’d up, and are very imperious Mistresses, because they are so, were bound to change Dresses with this unsophisticated and unadorn’d Maid, the one would appear to owe her Beauty to Art, and the other to be beholden for hers to nothing but Nature. But, Lindamor, who is not naturally indispos’d to be Amorous, did not think that this Imagination of mine did that pretty Creature right: for when I told him she would eclipse a hundred of our fine Ladies, if she had but the Dress of one of them; Why, that (replies he, with a kind of Indignation) she can do without it, and perhaps, subjoyns he, as much as with it: For her present habit leaves her most her self, and Bravery would but disguise, or hide what it cannot adorn. And I am confident, (continues he) that should such a genuine Beauty appear among the Gallants, she would really captivate many, ev’n of those wary ones that do but pretend to be so, to the designing and applauded Ladies: For though Skil may encounter the Wiles of Art, it would scarce be able to resist the Charms of Nature. But whilst Lindamor was thus Complementing with what he fancy’d the Picture of his once lov’d Hermione, and had his Eyes as much fix’d upon her, as dazl’d ones could be, the lovely Milk-maid, (who, all this while having not taken notice of us, was as regardless of Lindamor, as he seem’d to be of all things but her) having dispatch’d what she was doing, took up her Pail to carry it homewards: But her way chancing to lye by that part of the Meadow where we were yet standing, she could not but discover us, and judging by our Cloaths, and more by Lindamors Meer, that we were of a Quality differing from theirs she was wont to converse with, she gave us a Salute low enough to let us see that she forgot not her Condition, but attended with so much Gracefulness, as made Lindamor conclude she merited a better, and, as she pass’d by him, to return the gesture of Respect, which he thought so much Beauty had a right in any habit to exact; she vouchsaf’d him a Smile, which, I after told him, would have made him happy, if he had thought it had proceeded from Kindness, not Civility; and she went away with a Look so serene, as well as taking, that she seem’d to carry home with her far more quiet, than she left him possess’d of. But I that had lost sight of her, without losing any thing with it, save the expectation of seeing in haste so fair a Milk-maid, was going to Railler with Lindamor, about what had pass’d, when I was restrain’d, by perceiving that the sight of a Person that seem’d so contented, together with the native pleasantness of that place, and of that glorious Morning, had such an operation upon him, that he could not forbear to celebrate the happiness and innocency of a Country life. And after he had with much Transport, and Fluency, repeated the substance of what Ovid and other antient Poets had in their strain deliver’d concerning the felicity of the Golden Age, he began to apply as much of it as the Matter would bear, to the recommending of a Rural life, and was very sollicitous to make me acknowledge, that though we are wont to look upon Villagers as an inferiour and wretched sort of People, yet they are the persons of the World, whose condition is the most proper, not only to keep them innocent, but to make them happy: Their cheap and simple way of Living, allowing them to rest contented, with what bounteous Nature has provided for them, or an easie Industry can procure them. Whereas among Men nobly Born, or Persons of Quality, ‘tis look’d upon as want of Breeding, for a Man not to think himself unhappy, as long as he hath not a thousand Pound a Year.
Lindamor, though he here made a Pause to take breath, would yet perhaps have prosecuted his Discourse, had he not been prevented by the intervening of Eusebius, who a while after we had left him, having miss’d us, had follow’d us to the palace he found us in, and who, when he drew nigh, having over-heard Lindamor speaking, stood still a while at some distance off, to listen to what he said, and so became an unsuspected Auditor of the last part of his Friends Discourse. Whereupon taking him by the hand, and leading him towards the River, he told him, with a serious, not to call it a severe Look; I had thought, Lindamor, you had made righter Estimates of the several courses of Life, than, by what I have newly over-heard you say, I now suspect you do. Know then, Lindamor, (adds he) That Innocence and Contentment depend more upon a Man’s mind, than upon his condition: To manifest this to you, I shall in the first place observe, that ‘tis not always the Occasion, or the Object, but rather the Degree that makes an Affection of the Mind unruly and troublesome; Nor is it according to the intrinsick value of things, which none save the Wise can discern; but the Rate, how unskilfully soever fixt, which we put upon them, that they operate upon our passions. And therefore, you shall see a Child take on more sadly for the scape of a Sparrow, or the breaking of a Rattle, than some will do for the loss of a good Estate, nay, of a Friend; and Haman, for the want of a Bow from Mordecai, complain’d more in his Place, than Job, till his miserable comforters had exasperated his grief, did for the loss of the biggest Fortune in the East, and of the Children he reserv’d it for, and valu’d far above it.
And then, Lindamor, (continues Eusebius) do not imagine, that though Courtiers and Gallants have more spendid and glittering Temptations to Sin and Discontent, Country people are exempted from Temptation to either: Theirs may be as great, though not the same, nor so specious as the other; their Faults and Infelicities are indeed less taken notice of, because their Persons and Conditions are obscure, and their Poverty conceals their Vices, as well as their Virtues, from our Eyes; as in a sharp Winter the Snow does as well hide their Dunghills, as cover their Gardens. But if your Quality allow’d you to acquaint your self with the true state of this inferiour sort of People, you would soon perceive, that ev’n of rural Families, there is scarce any, that, as far as their Wits will reach, has not its several Parties, and little Intrigues; Nor is there any Cottage so low, and narrow, as not to harbour Care, and Malice, and Covetousness, and Envy, if those that dwell in it have a mind to entertain them: And what Envy alone may do to produce Crimes and Discontents, we may conjecture by what happen’d betwixt Cain and Abel, since their being heirs to the whole World, could not keep two Brothers at peace, whilst one of them was envious: And there are some sordid Vices, which are more incident to the meaner and more necessitous sort of Men, as Spiders and Cobwebs are wont to abound more in thatch’d Cabbins, than in great Mens houses. I should perhaps (says Eusebius) think these people happy, if I found they thought themselves so; but the Pomp and Vanities of the World have oftentimes stronger allurements for them, than for the Grandees and Courtiers themselves: For those that are possess’d of these imaginary Joys, are disabus’d by their own Experience; and those that live among these Theatrical persons, are near enough to discern that they are but causelesly envy’d. As (for my part) when I had occasion to be conversant in great Mens Families, and the honour to preach in Princes Courts, the sight of their course of Life did as thorowly convince me of the Vanity of the World, as my Sermons endeavour’d to convince them. Whereas Country people see but the glittering and deluding outside of Greatness, and beholding it but at a distance, see it in the favourablest light which Men can behold it in, and consequently are strongly tempted to envy what they admire, and repine at their own condition, for the want of it: Nay, every gawdy trifle, that those that live in Towns and Cities chance to make shew of, is wont to make a Country man envy, as well as gape; And ‘tis odds, but that very Milk-maid, whose condition you are pleas’d to think so happy, envies some Neighbouring Farmers Daughter for a piece of taudry Ribbon, or a black Hood: Nor are they so much more priviledg’d from the assaults of Temptation, than Men of higher rank; For ‘tis not so much a Mans outward condition, as his inward disposition and temper of mind, that makes Temptations either to sin, or to discontent, prevalent, or unsuccessfull. When Joseph was sold into Egypt, and sollicited by a Woman that would needs be his Mistress upon more scores than one, though his condition expos’d him more to hopes and fears, than almost any other condition could expose another Man, And though his Youth made him very capable of rellishing the pleasures that his Beauty made him courted to receive, by giving them; yet this chast Youth chose rather to be Imprison’d any where, than in a fair Ladies Arms, and preferr’d the being made a Captive, before the Captivating of his amorous Mistress. But whilst young Joseph was thus chast in the Aegyptian Potiphar’s House, his eldest Brother Reuben was Incestuous in good Jacob’s whose Family was then the visible Church of God; and Lot, who was chast and temperate in Sodom it self, was Drunk and committed Incest in a Cave; so much more does the success of Temptations depend upon the temper of a Man’s mind, than upon the place he lives in.
I know not (says Eugenius) whether the Innocence of Rural people be more easie than that of great Men, but sure it is not so commendable: For as a Woman that has never yielded, because she was never sollicited, may be call’d rather Innocent than Virtuous; so their condition, that owe their not being Inveigl’d by the Vanities of the World, to their Ignorance of them, has more in it of good fortune than of merit. I thank you for that consideration, (subjoyns Eusebius) for I confess I think there is a great Disparity betwixt an unacquaintedness with the bewitching pleasures of the World, and a contempt of them. And he is the truly heroick Spirit, that can (as David could) plentifully enjoy all those sensual Delights and Vanities he chose to reject: For he could feast a Nation, and prefer Temperance before all that Abundance; He could gain strange Victories at once over his outward Enemies, and over the Temptations he was expos’d to by such successes; He could Build stately Palaces, and then profess himself to be but a Stranger, and a Sojourner upon Earth; He could afford Humility room to sit with him on his Throne, and could listen to her Memento’s amidst all the Acclamations of his People, and the Panegyricks of his Courtiers; He was not to be resisted by Beauties, that to others were irresistible, when he postpon’d the fairest Objects that could here charm his Eyes, to such as were visible only to those of Faith; He had got together the greatest Treasure, that for ought I remember we read of in any History, and yet seems never to have been much pleas’d with it, but when he dedicated it to the Building of the Temple, and made the fruits of his Valour the oblations of his Piety. To be short, he was the greatest Person upon Earth, when he was content to leave it; and was willing to descend from the Throne into the Grave, whilst he look’d upon that as the place whence he must ascend to the Mansion of his God; so much did he, ev’n whilst he wore an earthly Crown, aspire to an Heavely one. And though (continues Eusebius) we must now a days as little expect to meet with a Man of David’s condition, as of his temper, yet proportionably we may put a vast Difference betwixt those that but escape the sight of the World’s allurements, and those that reject the Profers of them.
Eusebius was in this part of his Discourse, when we were come near enough to the River, to discover it within a little way of us: And therefore finding by his silence, that he thought it seasonable to desist, I only ventur’d to tell him, with a low Voice, as we continu’d our Walk, that I suspected, that in some of the things he had been saying, he had a design rather to check Lindamor a little, and keep up the Discourse, than to deny, that a retir’d and rural Life has great advantages towards Contentation: To which, that he might conclude what he had to say, before we reach’d the River, he made haste to reply in the same Tone, That I was not altogether mistaken: For (says he) I think the case may be pretty well represented, by saying, that as there are some Airs very much wholesomer than others, and fitter to preseve Men from Diseases; so a very private and quiet condition of Life, does much more easily than a more expos’d and turbulent one, protect most sorts of Men from Vices and Disquiets. But then on the other side, as there are some Men of such sound and strong Constitutions, that they will enjoy their Health in the worst Airs, when Men of tender and vitiated Complexions will be Sickly in the best; so there are some generous and steady Souls, that will pass thorow the most troublesome and most expos’d courses of Life, with more of both Innocence and Contentment, than others can enjoy in a condition far remoter from Disturbances and Temptations. And, annexes Eusebius, (purposely raising his Voice) as for these Villages that Lindamor thought so happy, I must dissent from him as long as I see they can admire, and almost worship, a Man for wearing a Gaudy suit of Cloaths, or having two or three Foot-men behind his Coach, before they know whether he be not a Knave, or a Fool, or both: For I shall scarce think, that he, who is himself posses’d with Envy, deserves mine.
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