LUCRETIA.

(Her conduct argued.)

The Heathens who praise Lucretia, ground their panegyrics upon her extreme sense of glory, and the reputation of a chaste wife, and her great delicacy as to this point of honour; which was so very great as not to permit her to survive the affront which had been offered her. What a certain critic borrows from St Augustin, whose meaning he has not rightly taken, is founded on a false supposition, that Lucretia killed herself to punish herself for the commission of a crime. It is an ignorance of the state of the question: this lady knew herself innocent, and yet would die, that no lewd woman should have the face to live, under the pretence that Lucretia had the cowardice to survive her rape.

One of the most reasonable objections of St. Augustin is, that self murder is a crime; and he strengthens his argument by the encomiums that are given to Lucretia. He reasons “ad hominem,” against the Heathens, and alleges to them “the laws of their

own tribunals. These laws would have obliged them to punish a man who had killed Lucretia. You would therefore be obliged,” continues he, “to punish her, if she was accused before you of having killed herself. But if you answer, that it is impossible to punish her, since she is not in being, why do you accumulate so many praises upon the murderer of a virtuous person?” I do not pretend to justify those who would say in favour of this lady, that St Augustin has condemned her by principles she did not know; for she was ignorant of the axioms of the Christian religion, which forbid all attempts upon our own lives. She might therefore have complained of being brought before such a tribunal: she might have declined the jurisdiction, and appealed to her natural judges, to those ideas of grandeur and heroical glory, which have persuaded so many people that it is better to die, than to live in disgrace; but, as I have already said, this is an answer with which I shall not concern myself; I choose rather this other reflection. The Roman magistrates, whom St Augustin speaks to, and demands for judges of the question, might have quickly undeceived him, by showing that the laws, which gave no authority to private persons over one another’s lives, debar not anyone the privilege of disposing of his own. Do not you know they might have said in what admiration the Catos, the Brutuses, the Cassiuses, and so many other illustrious Romans have ever been, who preferred death, to a life that would have made them witnesses to the oppression of liberty, or exposed them to the discretion of their enemies, or a languishing condition. Are you ignorant with what eulogies that courage of Portia and Arria have been crowned? Know you not that we have seen, with some displeasure, that Cleopatra, who had dishonoured herself by her debaucheries, should have the glory she did not deserve, of preferring death before the disgrace of being led in triumph? In a word, are you ignorant how the resolution of private persons has been admired, or even of whole towns, of perishing by precipice or fire, rather than to fall into their enemies’ hands? The nation whom you look upon as the favourite people of the true God, blamed not Saul, its first king, and one of the valiantest princes of his age for having prevented, by killing himself, the disgrace of falling into the hands of the conqueror. His successor, one of your greatest prophets, nevertheless gave him the greatest praises. Do not the books of the same nation give the same praises to a hero who imitated the action of king Saul? And after this will you tell us, “whoever should have killed Lucretia, would have been punishable; and therefore she is punishable for having killed herself?” Learn to reason better, and remember, that the maxims of the noblest and most august sect that ever was among the Greeks, favour this lady’s proceeding.

It is certain St Augustin took a wrong method in recurring to the maxims of the Heathens, as a rule for the condemnation of Lucretia. I know well enough that they were not all of the opinions of the Stoics, and there were some great philosophers, who condemned self murder. I know also, it has been said, “that it was rather cowardice than a proof of courage, to forego life, to be rid of trouble and pain; and that a man, who resolves to struggle long with his ill fortune, discovers as much firmness as he who kills himself, shews weakness. I know, there have been many among the Heathens who have been of this opinion; but they wanted on their side glory and lustre; they were only considered as the populace; the other faction was the nobility, the distinguished party, the school of heroism; and it might be represented to them that, like counterfeit bravoes, they assumed honourable names, and gave the names of constancy and intrepidity to an excessive love of life, and an excessive fear of death. They were so

fond of life, that nothing was able to give them a disgust of it: dishonour, poverty, the most gloomy dungeons, the most inveterate diseases, did not disfigure it in their eyes; it appeared to them amiable even in this equipage. Death was not able to put on any disguise that could conceal the least feature of its ugly face. This, might they say, was the principle of that great courage in which they gloried, and which made them consider the action of Lucretia as the effect of cowardice.

Let us now examine St Augustin’s dilemma. “Ita hæc caussa ex utroque latere coarctatur, ut si extenuatur homicidium, adulterium confirmetur; si purgatur adulterium, homicidium cumuletur: nec omnino invenitur exit us, ubi dicitur: si adulterata, cur laudata? si pudica, cur occisa?—This case has its difficulties on each side, so that if the murder be extenuated, the adultery is confirmed; if we acquit her of adultery, she must be charged with murder: nor can we any way answer this charge, viz. If she was an adultress, why is she praised? if chaste, why did she kill herself?” He pretends, that this lady’s murder cannot be extenuated without aggravating the adultery, nor her adultery extenuated without aggravating her murder. But, to show that he had not diligently examined this matter, it suffices to say that his argument proves too much; for by a like reasoning, we ought to blame a person who deserves great praises. It sometimes happened, that in the first ages, very pious young women, who were consecrated to celibacy for the service of God, were violated. This is but too common a case at present; and we daily hear the story of an abbess who, with her nuns, had passed through the hands of an Irish company in Piedmont, and who made her complaints to Monsieur de Catinat. Let us suppose that a nun should, in this case, contract such a melancholy, as might bring upon her a mortal distemper. Let us

suppose that the testimony of her conscience, fortified with the strongest consolations that a Divine could give, were unable to relieve her. Let us suppose she had conceived such a value for the purity of body and mind, that the bare idea of the most involuntary defilement should cast her into an insupportable affliction, of which she should die; would not this be a convincing proof of an exquisite chastity? Would not her innocence and virtue stand in a clear light? Whereas, if we follow St Augustin’s dilemma, as much as you give to her affliction, you take from her chastity, “si pudica, cur mortua?” You see then, that there is more subtilty than solidity, in this father’s argument: and thus you see Lucretia perfectly screened from St Augustin’s attacks, except in respect of the murder; for if she had died of grief only, both he, and the other fathers of the church had, by this kind of death, confirmed the praises of her incomparable chastity.

It has been said that religion had no share in this action of Lucretia. A learned man Bayle himself in his Pensées diversés, sur les Cometes, chap. clxxx, pag. 557. ⁷⁰ has opposed this opinion by some remarks, which deserve to be discussed. Three observations have been made in the Miscellaneous Thoughts upon Comets. That for the three first ages of ancient Rome, the modesty, frugality, and chastity of women were very remarkable; and there were some who manifested a very lively sense of honour. That this sense of honour could not be inspired into the Roman women by the religion they professed; since it was necessary, to that end, that their religion should teach them, that immodesty was displeasing to the gods: but far from that it taught them the contrary, that the gods themselves were excessively lewd. That, if Lucretia had loved chastity from a principle of religion; or, which is the same thing, if she had loved it in

obedience to God, she would never have consented to Sextus’s desires; but have rather chosen to abandon her reputation to calumny, than her body to adultery. However this she did not do. She courageously resisted this prince’s pursuit, though he threatened to kill her; but when he threatened to expose her reputation to eternal infamy, she granted his desires, and afterwards killed herself. This is an evident proof that she loved nothing in virtue but the glory that attended it; and that she had not in view the pleasing of her gods; for they who would please God, would chuse rather to be reckoned infamous by men, than commit a crime. It must therefore necessarily be confessed, that Lucretia’s religion contributed nothing to her chastity: and that, in that respect, she had been the very same as she was, though she had never heard there were any gods at all.

Mr du Rondel published in 1685, some reflections upon a chapter of Theophrastus, which I have read over and over again with great pleasure. The place where he makes the eulogy and apology for Lucretia, chiefly charmed me, as having always been an admirer of this illustrious lady: and if the subject could have suffered it, I would have pleaded her cause no less in the Miscellaneous Thoughts on Comets, than in the preceding remark. I therefore heartily applaud all that Mr du Rondel alleges in her justification, except what relates to the motives of religion. He makes two learned reflections upon this point; one “that the lewd gods were not those who were worshipped in ancient Rome; ” the other, that “if Lucretia was willing for some moments, to survive her honour, it was because she was forced to it by her religion, and was accountable for her reputation, before the Eumenides. According to the ancient theologists, man was composed of a soul, a body, and a shade. At death the soul was restored to heaven, where the thoughts were examined before the Diræ;

the body was restored to the earth, where the actions were examined before the Furiæ; and the shade was restored to hell, where the reports that had been spread of us were to be accounted for, and that before the Eumenides. ‘ Ne Lucretia,’ says an ancient author, Castitatis famam deperderet, quippe quam sine purgatione futuram esse cernebat, invita turpibus imperiis paruit. Lucretia fearing she should lose the reputation of her chastity, which she saw would happen unless she justified herself, submitted therefore, though against her will, to his base desires.’ It was necessary there should be witnesses, and blood, to be cleared from calumny, and to appear with impunity before the Eumenides; or resolve to be damned to all the serpents of infamy, which was one of these goddesses, tertia Pænarum Infamia. Thus, sir, Lucretia has satisfied her religion, and is more commendable than has hitherto been imagined: since, with the stab of the dagger, she made an expiatory sacrifice, which stopped the mouth of slander, and cleared her a glorious way to the Elysian fields.”

Nothing can be more properly alleged, to confirm the first of these observations, than what is found in Dionysius Halicarnassus, concerning the laws of Romulus. This prince, the founder of Rome, borrowed from the Greeks the best institutions they had for divine service, but rejected the fables the ancients had divulged concerning the crimes of their gods, and suffered not any thing to be ascribed to those divine natures unbecoming the supreme felicity. He expressly observes, that the Romans did not teach that Cælus was castrated by his children, or that Saturn devoured his; or that Jupiter having dethroned Saturn, threw him into Tartarus, or that the gods had been at wars, or had been wounded in them, or that they had been slaves among men. This whole passage of the historian is very remarkable: we see in it, that Romulus established a religion, not as a man

educated among shepherds, but as an excellent philosopher, and a thousand times a better theologist, than the magistrates of Greece. Nevertheless, the other historians, even they, who, like Livy, were more interested than Dionysius, in Romulus's glory, have been silent upon this article; which silence is surprising and unaccountable. But let us observe, that this author, who particularises so many things, rejected by the first king of the Romans, does not take notice that he had banished what concerned the adulteries of the gods. Let us also say, that he falsely advances, that they did not speak of the castration of Cœlus, or the dethroning of Saturn, &c. How durst he affirm things so false? Did he not know that the Romans had adopted all the chimeras of the Greek mythology? Why did he not content himself with saying, that during the first ages of Rome, they gave no credit to them? Be it how it will, though we grant what he says of Romulus, we cannot thence infer, that our Lucretia was persuaded that the gods were very chaste.

The tradition that Romulus was the son of Mars, and of the vestal Sylvia, was doubtless very ancient in Tarquin’s time; for this vestal had declared, when she was with child, that a god was the father of it. It was Romulus’s interest that this fable should be believed in order to screen the honour of his mother, and give himself a celestial origin. This was moreover well suited to the temporal interests of the city he had built; which is probably the reason why he, rejecting the other fables of the Greeks, did not intimate, that the amours of the gods were to be excluded. Let us then be persuaded, that in Lucretia's time, one of the articles of the faith of the Roman people, was, that Mars got Sylvia with child when she went to fetch water for the divine service to the wood consecrated to this god. So that Lucretia far from fearing to offend the gods, supposing she should

commit adultery, ought to fear the being alone in some consecrated wood, and imagine that her honour would run a great risk there, the god of the place being very likely to fall in love with her, and to force her, with so much the less scruple, as she had never been a vestal, as the mother of Romulus hack Observe also, that during the wars that Tarquin made with the Romans they built a temple to Castor and Pollux; that is, to two bastards of the same Jupiter, whom they worshipped in the capital; which is a justification, even in respect of ancient Rome, of what is said in the Miscellaneous Thoughts on Comets, that religion did not teach that lewdness was displeasing to the. gods. The first king of Rome too, by forbidding to ascribe to the gods what Greece imputed to them, intimated, that there were evil reports concerning their conduct. This, doubtless, would occasion at least a curiosity to inform themselves what these slanders were; and we know, that in Tarquin’s time, the oracle of Delphi was very well known at Rome. They had therefore an account of the religion of the Greeks; they knew the stories concerning the love intrigues of the gods; and, as people easily believe what gratifies their passions, they readily gave credit to these discourses, authorised by a learned and ingenious nation; and which furnished dissolute men with so many apologies. We only imitate the gods, said they privately, in the beginning; they were bolder afterwards, as the law of Romulus grew obsolete. We know, from the experience of later ages, that the forbidding a book, wherein the amours and corruptions of a court are exposed, prevents indeed the inhabitants of the country from dispersing these scandalous stories, but not from thinking of them and believing them any more than before. Apply this to the subjects of Romulus, with respect to the proscribing the Grecian fables: add too, that the building of the temple of Castor and Pollux, was, as it were, an authentic declaration of Jupiter’s adulteries, and derogatory to Romulus’s law. The husband to the mother of these two deities, was, by this edifice, as solemnly declared a cuckold, as by a decree of the Amphictyones, or of the senate. Whence we must conclude, that the virtue and good morals, so conspicuous among the Romans for the three or four first centuries, did not depend on the religion of the heathens, but only on natural religion.

But here is a dilemma. The religion established by Romulus, and which represented God as a most perfect being, either subsisted entire in Lucretia’s time, or was already corrupted by the fables of Greece. In the first case, Lucretia did not govern herself by the principles of her religion, since she stood more in fear of what the world would say, than of God himself. In the second case, she governed herself by the ideas of virtue, and the love of chastity, which the notion of her gods did not give her. Let us now see what relates to the second observation of our learned friend.

He must give me leave to say, that the learning he has shewn upon the distinction of the Diræ, the Furiæ, and the Eumenides, and so on, was above the comprehension of Lucretia, and all the other women of Rome and Athens. It was a piece of the most mystical theology then in being: the women had nothing to do with it; the initiates did not come near it; only the old Adepti were to be instructed in this article. I question whether Varro, the most learned of the Romans, and the pontifex Caius Cotta, penetrated so far. But most certainly Lucretia did not know, that her acquitting herself in heaven and earth, before the Diræ and the Furiæ, was to no purpose, unless she was furnished with the certificates, which the Eumenides demanded in hell. She did not therefore die, to provide herself with an answer to an

examination, which she had no idea of. The bare interest of her reputation, without the least regard to religion, induced her to kill herself.

St Augustin understood very well this truth, and hath justly concluded, that Lucretia’s conduct does not equal that of Christian women, who, having submitted to a like violence, comfort themselves in God, the witness of their inward purity; and are far from refuting the suspicions of men, by transgressing the laws of God. August. de Civit. Dei, lib. i, cap. xix, pag. 69. ⁷¹ “Though she submitted to the adulterer, yet without being an adulteress, afterwards slew herself, was not the effect of her regard to chastity, but through a fear of shame. She could not endure the thoughts of a man’s baseness towards her, though she was not base with him, and this Roman lady, too covetous of praise, was afraid, least the violence which she had suffered when alive, would be thought to be voluntary if she still lived; therefore she resolved to render that evident to the eyes of men by her death, which otherwise she could never have made manifest to their minds, dreading to be thought an accomplice in the fact, if having been basely used she had patiently sustained it. But Christian women have not acted like her, for having suffered what she did they are yet alive, desiring not to revenge on their own bodies the crimes of others, nor to add new crimes to theirs, which they must have done, if, because the enemies in the heat of their lust had abused them, they had for shame murdered themselves. They enjoy within the glory of chastity from the testimony of their consciences; as well as in the sight of God; neither do they re quire any more; but choose to act so as not to offend against the divine law, rather than to do evil to avoid the suspicions of men.” If instead of following the Roman genius, which thirsted after the praise of men, she had conformed to the precepts of

sound religion, she had chosen to die by the hand of Sextus, rather than suffered him to do what he did. She cannot therefore be justified at the bar of religion; but if she be judged at the tribunal of human glory, there she will come off with flying colours; for if, on one hand, life was less dear to her than chastity; she sacrificed, on the other, to a fair reputation, what she preferred before life itself. All this centered in self-love; but had she been a Christian, I say, a thorough Christian, she would have acted otherwise, and from a principle of divine love. The Spanish Jesuit, above cited, states her duty aright, and opposes to her the answer of Lucia, a Christian woman. “How much more to the purpose was the answer not of the Roman Lucretia, but of the Christian Lucia to the president Paschasius, who, in the same case, said, he would send her among the most abandoned women that any one might defile her, and the holy spirit on which she valued herself should forsake her.” “If you order violence to be offered me against my own consent my chastity will merit a double crown.” There is one thing more, in which the Christian women St Augustin speaks of, excelled her. She had her choice of death or consenting: they were not allowed this option. Tyrants, persecutors, and soldiers, made use of violence, without proposing the alternative. Being reduced to this condition, all the defence they had was a denial of consent, and repugnance of will; for what would the resistance of arms and hands have signified? As for the rest, we must presume as much in favour of Lucretia, as in favour of them, that is, reject the surmises St Augustin has suggested concerning this heathen lady. ‘‘ Who knows,” says he, “but she was conscious of some kind of consent, which might be the reason of her killing herself?” These are unreasonable suspicions. We ought to believe that her soul lost nothing of its purity; and that she was violently robbed of an immaculate chastity, according to the literal meaning of Brutus’s words in Dionysius Halicarnassus, and we may also reasonably suppose that nobody had ever known young Tarquin’s exploit, if Lucretia had not revealed it.

Father le Moyne has made an apology for this lady, in which he says she surpassed her own deities. “I have seen,” says he, “the action brought against her memory, and the sentence which is annexed to it in St Augustin’s books de Civitate Dei. I have sometimes heard, in declamations, that one of the most heroic and strict ladies of her sex had pleaded against her; and I confess, that if she were to be judged by the Christian law, and the rules of the gospel, she would find it very difficult to justify her innocence. But if she be removed from this severe tribunal where Pagan virtue finds no footing, she is out of danger of being condemned. If she be judged by the laws of her own country, and the religion of her time, she will be found to be the chastest of those who then lived, and the most resolute of all the Heathens. The noble and virtuous philosopher, who accuses her so often, would pardon her misfortune, and reconcile himself to her, and every body must confess, that her crime was less her fault, than the imperfection of the Roman law, which had not regulated it rightly, and the scandals of her religion, which had only given her ill examples. We need not therefore scruple to praise Lucretia; not being able with her hands to resist an armed force, she repulsed it in thought, and her soul raised itself as much as possible to avoid the stain of impurity with which her body was defiled.—Art. Lucretia.