In England are to be found Gipsies of many occupations; horse-dealers,

livery stable-keepers, public-house keepers, sometimes grocers and

linen-drapers; indeed, almost every occupation from these downwards. I

can readily enough believe an English Gipsy, when he tells me, that he

knows of an English squire a Gipsy. To have an English squire a Gipsy,

might have come about even in this way: Imagine a rollicking or

eccentric English squire taking up with, and marrying, say, a pretty

mixed Gipsy bar or lady's maid, and the children would be brought up

Gipsies, for certainty.

There are two Gipsies, of the name of B----, farmers upon the estate

of Lord Lister, near Massingham, in the county of Norfolk. They are

described as good-sized, handsome men, and swarthy, with long black

hair, combed over their shoulders. They dress in the old Gipsy stylish

fashion, with a green cut-away, or Newmarket, coat, yellow leather

breeches, buttoned to the knee, and top boots, with a Gipsy hat,

ruffled breast, and turned-down collar. They occupy the position of

any natives in society; attend church, take an interest in parish

matters, dine with his lordship's other tenants, and compete for

prizes at the agricultural shows. They are proud of being Gipsies. I

have also been told that there are Gipsies in the county of Kent, who

have hop farms and dairies.

The prejudice against the name of Gipsy was apparently as great in

Bunyan's time as in our own; and there was, evidently, as great a

timidity, on the part of mixed, fair-haired Gipsies, to own the blood

then, as now; and great danger, for then it was hangable to be a Gipsy,

by the law of Queen Elizabeth, and "felony without benefit of clergy,"

for "any person, being fourteen years, whether natural born subject or

stranger, who had been seen in the fellowship of such persons, or

disguised like them, and remained with them one month, at once, or at

several times." When the name of Gipsy, and every association connected

with it, were so severely proscribed by law, what other name would the

tribe go under but that of tinkers--their own proper occupation? Those

only would be called Gipsies whose appearance indicated the pure, or

nearly pure, Gipsy. Although there was no necessity, under any

circumstances, for Bunyan to say that he was a Gipsy, and still less in

the face of the law proscribing, so absolutely, the race, and every one

countenancing it, he evidently wished the fact to be understood, or, I

should rather say, took it for granted, that part of the public knew of

it, when he said: "For my descent, it was, as is well known to many, of

a low and inconsiderable generation; my father's house being of that

rank that is meanest and most despised of all the families of the land."

Of whom does Bunyan speak here, if not of the Gipsies? He says, of _all_

the families of the land. And he adds: "After I had been thus for some

considerable time, another thought came into my mind, and that was,

whether we, (his family and relatives,) were of the Israelites or no?

For, finding in the Scriptures, that they were once the peculiar people

of God, thought I, if I were one of this race, (how significant is the

expression!) my soul must needs be happy. Now, again, I found within me

a great longing to be resolved about this question, but could not tell

how I should; at last, I asked my father of it, who told me, No, we,

(his father included,) were not."[317] I have heard the same question

put by Gipsy lads to their parent, (a very much mixed Gipsy,) and it was

answered thus: "We must have been among the Jews, for some of our

ceremonies are like theirs." The best commentary that can be passed on

the above extracts from Bunyan's autobiography, will be found in our

author's account of his visit to the old Gipsy chief, whose acquaintance

he made at St. Boswell's fair, and to which the reader is referred,

(pages 309-318.) When did we ever hear of an _ordinary Englishman_

taking so much trouble to ascertain whether he was a _Jew_, or not? No

Englishman, it may be safely asserted, ever does that, or has ever done

it; and no one in England could have done it, during Bunyan's time, but

a Gipsy. Bunyan seems to have been more or less acquainted with the

history of the Jews, and how they were scattered over the world, though

not publicly known to be in England, from which country they had been

for centuries banished. About the time in question, the re-admission of

the Jews was much canvassed in ecclesiastical as well as political

circles, and ultimately carried, by the exertions of Manasseh Ben

Israel, of Amsterdam. Under these circumstances, it was very natural for

Bunyan to ask himself whether he belonged to the Jewish race, since he

had evidently never seen a Jew; and that the more especially, as the

Scottish Gipsies have even believed themselves to be Ethiopians. Such a

question is entertained, by the Gipsies, even at the present day; for

they naturally think of the Jews, and wonder whether, after all, their

race may not, at some time, have been connected with them. How trifling

it is for any one to assert, that Bunyan--a common native of

England--while in a state of spiritual excitement, imagined that he was

a Jew, and that he should, at a mature age, have put anything so absurd

in his autobiography, and in so grave a manner as he did!

[317] Bunyan adds: "But, notwithstanding the meanness and

inconsiderableness of my parents, it pleased God to put it into their

hearts to put me to school, to learn me both to read and write; the

which I also attained, according to the rate of other poor men's

children."

He does not say, "According to the rate of poor men's children," but

of "_other_ poor men's children:" a form of expression always used by

the Gipsies when speaking of themselves, as distinguished from others.

The language used by Bunyan, in speaking of his family, was in harmony

with that of the population at large; but he, doubtless, had the

feelings peculiar to all the tribe, with reference to their origin and

race.

Southey, in his life of Bunyan, writes: "Wherefore this (tinkering)

should have been so mean and despised a calling, is not, however,

apparent, when it was not followed as a vagabond employment, but, as in

this case, exercised by one who had a settled habitation, and who, mean

as his condition was, was nevertheless able to put his son to school, in

an age when very few of the poor were taught to read and write." The

fact is, that Bunyan's father had, apparently, a town beat, which would

give him a settled residence, prevent him using a tent, and lead him to

conform with the ways of the ordinary inhabitants; but, doubtless, he

had his pass from the chief of the Gipsies for the district. The same

may be said of John Bunyan himself.

How little does a late writer in the Dublin University Magazine know of

the feelings of a mixed Gipsy, like Bunyan, when he says: "Did he belong

to the Gipsies, we have little doubt that he would have dwelt on it,

with a sort of spiritual exultation; and that of his having been called

out of Egypt would have been to him one of the proofs of Divine favour.

We cannot imagine him suppressing the fact, or disguising it." Where is

the point in the reviewer's remarks? His remarks have no point. How

could the fact of a man being a Gipsy be made the grounds of any kind of

spiritual exultation? And how could the fact of the tribe originating in

Egypt be a proof of Divine favour towards the individual? What occasion

had Bunyan to mention he was a Gipsy? What purpose would it have served?

How would it have advanced his mission as a minister? Considering the

prejudice that has always existed against that unfortunate word Gipsy,

it would have created a sensation among all parties, if Bunyan had said

that he was a Gipsy. "What!" the people would have asked, "a _Gipsy_

turned priest? We'll have the devil turning priest next!" Considering

the many enemies which the tinker-bishop had to contend with, some of

whom even sought his life, he would have given them a pretty occasion of

revenging themselves upon him, had he said he was a Gipsy. They would

have put the law in force, and stretched his neck for him.[318] The same

writer goes on to say: "In one passage at least--and we think there are

more in Bunyan's works--the Gipsies are spoken of in such a way as would

be most unlikely if Bunyan thought he belonged to that class of

vagabonds." I am not aware as to what the reviewer alludes; but, should

Bunyan even have denounced the conduct of the Gipsies, in the strongest

terms imaginable, would that have been otherwise than what he did with

sinners generally? Should a clergyman denounce the ways and morals of

every man of his parish, does that make him think less of being a native

of the parish himself? Should a man even denounce his children as

vagabonds, does that prevent him being their father? This writer

illustrates what I have said of people generally--that they are almost

incapable of forming an opinion on the Gipsy question, unaided by facts,

and the bearings of facts, laid before them; so thoroughly is the

philosophy of race, as it progresses and develops, unknown to the public

mind, and so absolute is the prejudice of caste against the Gipsy

race.[319]

[318] Justice Keeling threatened Bunyan with this fate, even for

preaching; for said he: "If you do not submit to go to hear divine

service, and leave your preaching, you must be banished the realm: And

if, after such a day as shall be appointed you to be gone, you shall

be found in this realm, or be found to come over again, without

special license from the king, you must stretch by the neck for it. I

tell you plainly."

Sir Matthew Hale tells us that, on one occasion, at the Suffolk

assizes, no less than thirteen Gipsies were executed, under the old

Gipsy statutes, a few years before the Restoration.

[319] Perhaps the following passage is the one alluded to by this

writer: "I often, when these temptations had been with force upon me,

did compare myself to the case of such a child, whom some Gipsy hath

by force took up in her arms, and is carrying from friend and

country." _Grace abounding._ The use of a simile like this confirms

the fact that Bunyan belonged to the tribe, rather than that he did

not; unless we can imagine that Gipsies, when candid, do not what

every other race has done--admit the peculiarities of theirs, while in

a previous and barbarous state of existence. His admission confirms a

fact generally believed, but sometimes denied, as in the case of the

writer in Blackwood's Magazine, mentioned at page 375.

Bunyan, doubtless, "dwelt on it with a sort of spiritual exultation,"

that he should have been "called"--not "out of Egypt," but--"out of

the tribe," when, possibly, no others of it, to his knowledge, had

been so privileged; but it was, certainly, "most unlikely" he would

say that "he belonged to that class of vagabonds."

I need hardly say anything further to show that Bunyan was a Gipsy. The

only circumstance that is wanting to complete the evidence, would be for

him to have added to his account of his descent: "In other words, I am a

Gipsy." But I have given reasons for such verbal admission being, in a

measure, impossible. I do not ask for an argument in favour of Bunyan

not being a Gipsy, but a common Englishman; for an argument of that

kind, beyond such remarks as I have commented on, is impracticable; but

what I ask for is, an exposition of the animus of the man who does not

wish that he should have been a Gipsy; assuming that a man can be met

with, who will so far forget what is due to the dignity of human nature,

as to commit himself in any such way. That Bunyan was a Gipsy is beyond

a doubt. That he is a Gipsy, now, in Abraham's bosom, the Christian may

readily believe. To the genius of a Gipsy and the grace of God combined,

the world is indebted for the noblest production that ever proceeded

from an uninspired man. Impugn it whoso list.

Of the Pilgrim's Progress, Lord Macaulay, in his happy manner, writes:

"For magnificence, for pathos, for vehement exhortation, for subtle

disquisition, for every purpose of the poet, the orator, and the divine,

this homely dialect--the dialect of plain working men--was perfectly

sufficient. There is no book in our literature on which we would so

readily stake the fame of the old, unpolluted, English language," as the

Pilgrim's Progress; "no book which shows, so well, how rich that

language is in its own proper wealth, and how little it has been

improved by all that it has borrowed." "Though there were many clever

men in England, during the latter half of the seventeenth century, there

were only two great creative minds. One of these minds produced the

Paradise Lost; the other, the Pilgrim's Progress"--the work of an

English tinkering Gipsy.

It is very singular that religious writers should strive to make out

that Bunyan was not a Gipsy. If these writers really have the glory of

God at heart, they should rather attempt to prove that he was a member

of this race, which has been so much despised. For, thereby, the grace

of God would surely be the more magnified. Have they never heard that

Jesus Christ came into the world to preach the Gospel to the poor, to

break the chains of the oppressed, and raise up the bowed-down? Have

they never heard that the poor publican who, standing afar off, would

not so much as lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote his breast, and

exclaimed: "God be merciful to me, a sinner," went down justified rather

than him who gave thanks for his not being like other men, or even as

that publican? Have they never heard that God hath chosen the foolish

things of the world to confound the wise; and the weak things of the

world to confound the things which are mighty; and things which are

despised, yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught things that

are: that no flesh should glory in his presence? I shall wait, with

considerable curiosity, to see whether the next editor, or biographer,

of this illustrious Gipsy will take any notice of the present work; or

whether he will dispose of it somewhat in this strain: "One of Bunyan's

modern reviewers, by a strange mistake, construes his self-disparaging

admissions to mean that he was the offspring of Gipsies!"

Sir Walter Scott admits that Bunyan was most probably a "Gipsy

reclaimed;" and Mr. Offor, that "his father must have been a

Gipsy."[320] But, with these exceptions, I know not if any writer upon

Bunyan has more than hinted at the possibility of even a connexion

between him and the Gipsies. It is very easy to account for all this, by

the ignorance of the world in regard to the Gipsy tribe, but, above all,

by the extreme prejudice of caste which is entertained against it. Does

caste exist nowhere but in India? Does an Englishman feel curious to

know what caste can mean? In few parts of the world does caste reign so

supreme, as it does in Great Britain, towards the Gipsy nation. What is

it but the prejudice of caste that has prevented the world from

acknowledging Bunyan to have been a Gipsy? The evidence of the fact of

his having been a Gipsy is positive enough. Will any one say that he

does not believe that Bunyan meant to convey to the world a knowledge of

the fact of his being a Gipsy? Or that he does not believe that the

tinkers are Gipsies? Has any writer on Bunyan ever taken the trouble to

ascertain who the tinkers really are; and that, in consequence of his

investigations, he has come to the conclusion that they are _not_

Gipsies? If no writer on the subject of the illustrious dreamer has ever

taken that trouble, to what must we attribute the fact but the prejudice

of caste? It is caste, and nothing but caste. What is it but the

prejudice of caste that has led Lord Macaulay to invent his story about

the tinkers? For what he says of the tinkers is a pure invention, or, at

best, a delusion, on his part. What is it but the prejudice of caste

that has prevented others from saying, plainly, that Bunyan was a Gipsy?

It would be more manly if they were to leave Bunyan alone, than receive

his works, and damn the man, that is, his blood. It places them on the

level of boors, when they allow themselves to be swayed by the

prejudices that govern boors. When they speak of, or write about,

Bunyan, let them exercise common honesty, and receive both the man and

the man's works: let them not be guilty of petit larceny, or rather,

great robbery, in the matter.

[320] It is interesting to notice what these two writers say. If

Bunyan's father was a Gipsy, we may reasonably assume that his mother

was one likewise; and, consequently, that Bunyan was one himself, or

as Sir Walter Scott expresses it--a "Gipsy reclaimed." A Gipsy being a

question of race, and not a matter of habits, it should be received as

one of the simplest of elementary truths, that once a Gipsy, always a

Gipsy. We naturally ask, Why has not the fact of Bunyan having been a

Gipsy stood on record, for the last two centuries? and, echo answers,

Why?

Southey, in his life of Bunyan, writes: "John Bunyan has faithfully

recorded his own spiritual history. Had he dreamed of being 'forever

known,' and taking his place among those who may be called the immortals

of the earth, he would probably have introduced more details of his

temporal circumstances, and the events of his life. But, glorious

dreamer as he was, this never entered into his imagination.[321] Less

concerning him than might have been expected has been preserved by those

of his own sect; and it is not likely that anything more should be

recovered from oblivion." Remarks like these come with a singular grace

from a man with so many prejudices as Southey. John Bunyan has told us

as much of his history _as he dared to do_. It was a subject upon which,

in some respects, he doubtless maintained a great reserve; for it cannot

be supposed that a man occupying so prominent and popular a position, as

a preacher and writer, and of so singular an origin, should have had no

investigations made into his history, and that of his family; if not by

his friends, at least, by his enemies, who seemed to have been capable

of doing anything to injure and discredit him. But, very probably, his

being a tinker was, with friends and enemies, a circumstance so

altogether discreditable, as to render any investigation of the kind

perfectly superfluous. In mentioning that much of himself which he did,

Bunyan doubtless imagined that the world understood, or would have

understood, what he meant, and would, sooner or later, acknowledge the

race to which he belonged. And yet it has remained in this

unacknowledged state for two centuries since his time. How unreasonable

it is to imagine that Bunyan should have said, in as many words, that he

was a Gipsy, when the world generally is so apt to become fired with

indignation, should we _now_ say that he was one of the race. How

applicable are the words of his wife, to Sir Matthew Hale, to the people

of the present day: "Because he is a tinker, and a poor man, he is

despised, and cannot have justice."

[321] Although Bunyan probably never anticipated being held in high

estimation by what are termed the "great ones" of the earth, yet what

Southey has said cannot be predicated of him, if we consider the

singularity of his origin and history, and the popularity which he

enjoyed, as author of the Pilgrim's Progress; a work affecting the

mind of man in every age of the world. Of this work Bunyan writes:

"My Pilgrim's book has travelled sea and land,

Yet could I never come to understand

That it was slighted, or turned out of door,

By any kingdom, were they rich or poor.

In France and Flanders, where men kill each other,

My Pilgrim is esteemed a friend, a brother.

In Holland, too, 'tis said, as I am told,

My Pilgrim is, with some, worth more than gold.

Highlanders and Wild Irish can agree

My Pilgrim should familiar with them be.

'Tis in New England under such advance,

Receives there so much loving countenance,

As to be trimmed, new clothed, and decked with gems,

That it may show its features, and its limbs.

Yet more, so public doth my Pilgrim walk,

That of him thousands daily sing and talk."

Had Southey exercised that common sense which is the inheritance of most

of Englishmen, and divested himself of this prejudice of caste, which is

likewise their inheritance, he never could have had any difficulty in

forming a proper idea of Bunyan, and everything concerning him. And the

same may be said of any person at the present day. John Bunyan was

simply a Gipsy of mixed blood, who must have spoken the Gipsy language

in great purity; for, considering the extent to which it is spoken in

England, to-day, we can well believe that it was very pure two centuries

ago, and that Bunyan might have written works even in that language. But

such is the childish prejudice against the name of Gipsy, such the silly

incredulity towards the subject, that, in Great Britain, and, I am sorry

to say, with some people in America, one has nearly as much difficulty

in persuading others to believe in it, as St. Paul had in inducing the

Greeks to believe in the resurrection of the dead. Why seemeth it unto

thee incredible that Bunyan was a Gipsy? or that Bunyan's race should

now be found in every town, in every village, and, perhaps, in every

hamlet, in Scotland, and in every sphere of life?[322]

[322] Bunsen writes: "Sound judgment is displayed rather in an aptness

for believing what is historical, than in a readiness at denying it.

. . . . . Shallow minds have a decided propensity to fall into the

latter error. Incapability of believing on evidence is the last form

of the intellectual imbecility of an enervated age."

A writer who contributes frequently to "Notes and Queries," after

stating that he has read the works of Grellmann and Hoyland on the

Gipsies, adds: "My conclusion is that the tribes have no more right to

nationality, race, blood, or language, than the London thieves

have--with their slang, some words of which may have their origin in

the Hebrew, from their dealings with the lowest order of Jews."

To a candid and unprejudiced person, it should afford a relief, in

thinking of the immortal dreamer, that he should have been a member of

this singular race, emerging from a state of comparative barbarism, and

struggling upwards, amid so many difficulties, rather than he should

have been of the very lowest of our own race; for in that case, there is

an originality and dignity connected with him personally, that could not

well attach to him, in the event of his having belonged to the dregs of

the common natives. Beyond being a Gipsy, it is impossible to say what

his pedigree really was. His grandfather might have been an ordinary

native, even of fair birth, who, in a thoughtless moment, might have

"gone off with the Gipsies;" or his ancestor, on the native side of the

house, might have been one of the "many English loiterers" who joined

the Gipsies on their arrival in England, when they were "esteemed and

held in great admiration;" or he might have been a kidnapped infant; or

such a "foreign tinker" as is alluded to in the Spanish Gipsy edicts,

and in the Act of Queen Elizabeth, in which mention is made of

"strangers," as distinguished from natural born subjects, being with

the Gipsies. The last is most probable, as the name, _Bunyan_, would

seem to be of foreign origin. It is, therefore, very likely, that there

was not a drop of common English blood in Bunyan's veins. John Bunyan

belongs to the world at large, and England is only entitled to the

credit of the formation of his character. Be all that as it may,

Bunyan's father seems to have been a superior, and therefore important,

man in the tribe, from the feet, as Southey says, of his having "put his

son to school in an age when very few of the poor were taught to read

and write."

The world never can do justice to Bunyan, unless it takes him up as a

Gipsy; nor can the Christian, unless he considers him as being a Gipsy,

in Abraham's bosom. His biographers have not, even in one instance, done

justice to him; for, while it is altogether out of the question to call

him the "wicked tinker," the "depraved Bunyan," it is unreasonable to

style him a "blackguard," as Southey has done. He might have been a

blackguard in that sense in which a youth, in a village, is termed a

"young blackguard," for being the ringleader among the boys; or on

account of his wearing a ragged coat, and carrying a hairy wallet on his

shoulder, which, in a conventional sense, constitute any man, in Great

Britain, a blackguard. Bunyan's sins were confined to swearing, cursing,

blaspheming, and lying; and were rather intensely manifested by the

impetuosity of his character, or vividly described by the sincerity of

his piety, and the liveliness of his genius, than deeply rooted in his

nature; for he shook off the habit of swearing, (and, doubtless, that of

lying,) on being severely reproved for it, by a loose and ungodly woman.

Three of the kindred vices mentioned, (and, we might add the fourth,

lying,) more frequently proceed from the influence of bad example and

habit, than from anything inherently vicious, in a youth with so many of

the good points which characterized Bunyan. His youth was even marked by

a tender conscience, and a strong moral feeling; for thus he speaks of

himself in "Grace Abounding:" "But this I well remember, that though I

could myself sin, with the greatest delight and ease, and also take

pleasure in the vileness of my companions, yet, even then, if I had, at

any time, seen wicked things in those who professed goodness, it would

make my spirit tremble. As, once above all the rest, when I was in the

height of vanity, yet hearing one swear that was reckoned for a

religious man, it had so great a stroke upon my spirit, that it made my

heart ache." He was the subject of these experiences before he was ten

years of age. It is unnecessary to speak of his dancing, ringing bells,

and playing at tip-cat and hockey. Now, let us see what was Bunyan's

_moral_ character. He was not a drunkard; and he says: "I know not

whether there be such a thing as a woman breathing, under the copes of

heaven, but by their apparel, their children, or by common fame, except

my wife." And he continues: "Had not a miracle of precious grace

prevented, I had laid myself open even to the stroke of those laws which

bring some to disgrace and open shame, before the face of the world."

The meaning of this is, evidently, that he never stole anything; but

that it was "by a miracle of precious grace" he was prevented from doing

it. In what sense, then, was Bunyan a blackguard? There was never such

occasion for him to say of himself, what John Newton said of himself, as

a criminal passed him, on the way to the gallows: "There goes John

Bunyan, but for the grace of God." But such was the depth of Bunyan's

piety, that hardly any one thought and spoke more disparagingly of

himself than he did; although he would defend himself, with indignation,

against unjust charges brought against him; for, however peaceable and

humble he might be, he would turn most manfully upon his enemies, when

they baited or badgered him. "It began, therefore, to be rumoured, up

and down among the people, that I was a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman,

and the like. . . . . I also call those fools and knaves that have thus

made it anything of their business to affirm any of these things

aforesaid of me, namely, that I have been naught with other women, or

the like. . . . My foes have missed their mark in this their shooting at

me. I am not the man. I wish that they themselves be guiltless. If all

the fornicators and adulterers in England were hanged up by the neck

till they be dead, John Bunyan, _the object of their envy_, would be

still alive and well." The style of his language even indicated the

Gipsy; for English Gipsies, as Mr. Borrow justly remarks, speak the

English language much better than the natives of the lower classes; for

this apparent reason, that they have not the dialect of any particular

part of England, which would be, were they always to have resided in a

particular place. It must have been more so before the middle of the

seventeenth century, upwards of a hundred years after the arrival of the

Gipsies in England; for, in acquiring the English language, they would

keep clear of many of the rude dialects that so commonly prevail in that

country. But Bunyan's language was, doubtless, drawn principally from

the Scriptures.

The illustrious pilgrim had many indignities cast upon him, by the lower

and unthinking classes of the population, and by Quakers and strict

Baptists. 'Twas a man like John Owen who knew how to appreciate and

respect him; for, said he to Charles II.: "I would readily part with all

my learning, could I but preach like the tinker." And what was it that

supported Bunyan, amid all the abuse and obloquy to which he was

exposed, as he obeyed the call of God, and preached the gospel, in

season and out of season, to every creature around him? When they

sneered at his origin, and the occupation from which he had risen, he

said: "Such insults I freely bind unto me, as an ornament, among the

rest of my reproaches, till the Lord shall wipe them off at his coming."

And again: "The poor Christian hath something to answer them that

reproach him for his ignoble pedigree, and shortness of the glory of the

wisdom of this world. I fear God. This is the highest and most noble; he

hath the honour, the life, and glory that is lasting."[323]

[323] That the rabble, or "fellows of the baser sort," should have

pelted Bunyan with all sorts of offensive articles, when he commenced

to preach the gospel, is what could naturally have been expected; but

it sounds strange to read what he has put on record of the abuse

heaped upon him, by people professing to be the servants of Him "in

whom there is neither Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, male nor female."

See with what Christian humility he alludes to such treatment, as

contrasted with the manly indignation which he displayed in repelling

slanders. He speaks of "the Lord wiping off such insults at his

coming;" when his enemies, with the utmost familiarity and assurance,

may approach the judgment-seat, and demand their crowns. "Lord, Lord,

have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out

devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?" And it may be

answered unto them: "I never knew you; depart from me, ye that work

iniquity."

In Great Britain, the off-scourings of the earth can say who they are,

and no prejudices are entertained against them. Half-caste Hindoos,

Malays, Hottentots, and Negroes, are "sent home," to be educated, and

made pets of, and have the choice of white women given to them for

wives; but the children of a Scottish Christian Gipsy gentleman, or of a

Scottish Christian Gipsy gentlewoman, dare not say who they are, were it

almost to save their lives. Scottish people will wonder at what caste in

India can mean, deplore its existence, and pray to God to remove it,

that "the gospel may have free course and be glorified;" yet

scowl--silently and sullenly scowl--at the bare mention of John Bunyan

having been a Gipsy! Scottish religious journals will not tolerate the

idea to appear in their columns! To such people I would say, Offer up no

more prayers to Almighty God, to remove caste from India, until they

themselves have removed from the land this prejudice of caste, that

hangs like an incubus upon so many of their fellow-subjects at home. It

is quite time enough to carry such petitions to the Deity, when every

Scottish Gipsy can make a return of himself in the census, or proclaim

himself a Gipsy at the cross, or from the house-top, if need be; or, at

least, after steps have been taken by the public to that end. But some

of my countrymen may say: "What are we to do, under the circumstances?"

And I reply: "Endeavour to be yourselves, and judge of this subject as

it ought to be judged. You can, at least, try to guard against your

children acquiring your own prejudices." To the rising town generation,

I would look with more hope to see a better feeling entertained for the

name of Gipsy. But I look with more confidence to the English than

Scottish people; for this question of "folk" is very apt to rankle and

fester in the Scottish mind. I wish, then, that the British, and more

especially the Scottish, public should consider itself as cited before

the bar of the world, and not only the bar of the world, but the bar of

posterity, to plead on the Gipsy question, that it may be seen if this

is the only instance in which justice is not to be done to a part of the

British population. With the evidence furnished in the present work, I

submit the name of Bunyan, as a case in point, to test the principle at

issue. Let British people beware how they approach this subject, for

there are great principles involved in it. The social emancipation of

the Gipsies is a question which British people have to consider for the

future.

The day is gone by when it cannot be said who John Bunyan was. In

Cowper's time, his _name_ dare not be mentioned, "lest it should move a

sneer." Let us hope that we are living in happier times. Tinkering was

Bunyan's _occupation_; his _race_ the Gipsy--a fact that cannot be

questioned. His having been a Gipsy adds, by contrast, a lustre to his

name, and reflects an immortality upon his character; and he stands out,

from among all the men of the latter half of the seventeenth century, in

all his solitary grandeur, a monument of the grace of God, and a prodigy

of genius. Let us, then, enroll John Bunyan as the first (that is known

to the world) of eminent Gipsies, the prince of allegorists, and one of

the most remarkable of men and Christians. What others of this race

there may be who have distinguished themselves among mankind, are known

to God and, it may be, some of the Gipsies. The saintly Doctor to whom I

have alluded was one of this singular people; and one beyond question,

for his admission of the fact cannot be denied by any one. Any life of

John Bunyan, or any edition of his works, that does not contain a record

of the fact of his having been a Gipsy, lacks the most important feature

connected with the man that makes everything relating to him personally

interesting to mankind. It should even contain a short dissertation on

the Gipsies, and have, as a frontispiece, a Gipsy's camp, with all its

appurtenances. The reader may believe that such a thing may be seen, and

that, perhaps, not before long.

It strikes me as something very singular, that Mr. Borrow, "whose

acquaintance with the Gipsy race, in general, dates from a very early

period of his life;" who "has lived more with Gipsies than Scotchmen;"

and than whom "no one ever enjoyed better opportunities for a close

scrutiny of their ways and habits," should have told us so little about

the Gipsies. In all his writings on the Gipsies, he alludes to two mixed

Gipsies only--the Spanish half-pay captain, and the English flaming

tinman--in a way as if these were the merest of accidents, and meant

nothing. He has told us nothing of the Gipsies but what was known

before, with the exception, as far as my memory serves me, of the custom

of the Spanish Gipsy, dressing her daughter in such a way as to protect

her virginity; the existence of the tribe, in a civilized state, in

Moscow; and the habit of the members of the race possessing two names;

all of which are, doubtless, interesting pieces of information. The

Spanish Gipsy marriage ceremony was described, long before him, by Dr.

Bright; and Twiss, as far back as 1723, bears testimony to the virtue of

Gipsy females, inasmuch as they were not to be procured in any way.

Twiss also bears very positive testimony on a point to which Mr. Borrow

has not alluded, viz.: the honesty of Spanish Gipsy innkeepers, in one

respect, at least, that, although he frequently left his linen, spoons,

&c., at their mercy, he never lost an article belonging to him. He

alludes, in his travels, to the subject of the Gipsies incidentally; and

his testimony is, therefore, worthy of every credit, on the points on

which he speaks. In Mr. Borrow's writings upon the Gipsies, we find only

sketches of certain individuals of the race, whom he seems to have

fallen in with, and not a proper account of the nation. These writings

have done more injury to the tribe than, perhaps, anything that ever

appeared on the subject. I have met with Gipsies--respectable young

men--who complained bitterly of Mr. Borrow's account of their race; and

they did that with good reason; for his attempt at generalization on the

subject of the people, is as great a curiosity as ever I set my eyes

upon. How unsatisfactory are Mr. Borrow's opinions on the Gipsy

question, when he speaks of the "decadence" of the race, when it is only

passing from its first stage of existence--the tent. This he does in his

Appendix to the Romany Rye; and it is nearly all that can be drawn from

his writings on the Gipsies, in regard to their future history.

I do not expect to meet among American people, generally, with the

prejudice against the name of Gipsy that prevails in Europe; for, in

Europe, the prejudice is traditional--a question of the nursery--while,

in America, it is derived, for the most part, from novels. American

people will, of course, form their own opinion upon the tented or any

other kind of Gipsies, as their behaviour warrants; but what prejudice

can they have for the Gipsy race as such? As a race, it is, physically,

as fine a one as ever came out of Asia; although, at the present day, it

is so much mixed with the white blood, as hardly to be observable in

many, and absolutely not so in others, who follow the ordinary vocations

of other men. What prejudice can Americans have against Gipsy blood as

such? What prejudice can they have to the Maryland farmers who have

been settled, for at least two generations, near Annapolis, merely

because they are Gipsies and speak Gipsy? If there is any people in

the world who might be expected to view the subject of the Gipsies

dispassionately, it ought to be the people of America; for surely they

have prejudices enough in regard to race; prejudices, the object of

which is independent of character or condition--something that stares

them in the face, and cannot be got rid of. If they have the practical

sagacity to perceive the bearings of the Gipsy question, they should at

once take it up, and treat it in the manner which the age demands. They

have certainly an opportunity of stealing a march upon English people in

this matter.

Part of what I have said in reference to Bunyan, I was desirous of

having inserted in a respectable American religious journal, but I did

not succeed in it. "It would take up too much room in the paper, and

give rise to more discussion than they could afford to print."--"Perhaps

you would not wish it to be said that John Bunyan was a Gipsy?"--"Oh,

not at all," replied the editor, colouring up a little. I found that

several of these papers devoted a pretty fair portion of their space to

such articles as funny monkey stories, and descriptions of rat-trap and

cow-tail-holder patents; but for anything of so very little importance

as that which referred to John Bunyan, they could afford no room

whatever. Who cared to know who John Bunyan was? What purpose could it

serve? Who would be benefited by it? But funny monkey stories are

pleasant reading; every housewife should know how to keep down her rats;

and every farmer should be taught how to keep his cows' tails from

whisking their milk in his face, while it is being drawn into the pail.

Not succeeding with the religious papers, I found expression to my

sentiments in one of the "ungodly weeklies," which devote their columns

to rats, monkeys, and cows, and a little to mankind; and there I found a

feeling of sympathy for Bunyan. Let it not be said, in after times, that

the descendants of the Puritans allowed themselves to be frightened by a

scare-crow, or put to flight by the shake of a rag.

I am afraid that the native-born quarrelsomeness of disposition about

"folk," and things in general, which characterizes Scottish people, will

prove a bar to the Gipsies owning themselves up in Scotland. Go into

any Scottish village you like, and ascertain the feelings which the

inhabitants entertain for each other, and you will find that such a one

is a "poor grocer body;" that another belongs to a "shoemaker pack,"

another to a "tailor pack," another to a "cadger pack," another to a

"collier pack," and another to a "low Tinkler pack;" another to a "bad

nest," and another to a "very bad nest." And it is pretty much the same

with the better classes. Now, how could the Gipsy tribe live amid such

elements, if it did not keep everything connected with itself hidden

from all the other "packs" surrounding it? And is it consonant with

reason to say, that a Scotchman should be rated as standing at the

bottom of all the various "packs" and "nests," simply because he has

Gipsy blood in his veins? Yet, I meet with Scotchmen in the New World,

who express such a feeling towards the Gipsies. This quarrelling about

"folk" reigns supreme in Scotland; and, what is worse, it is brought

with the people to America. It is inherent in them to be personal and

intolerant, among themselves, and to talk of, and sneer at, each other,

and "cast up things." In that respect, a community of Scotch people

presents a peculiarity of mental feeling that is hardly to be found in

one of any other people. When they come together, in social intercourse,

there is frequently, if not generally, a hearty, if not a boisterous,

flow of feeling, and, if the bottle contributes to the entertainment, a

foam upon the surface; but the under-tow and ground-swell are frequently

long in subsiding. Even in America, where they are reputed to have the

clanishness of Jews, we will find within their respective circles, more

heart-burnings, jealousies, envyings, and quarrellings, (but little or

no Irish fighting, for they are rather given to "taking care of their

characters,") than is to be found among almost any other people. At the

best, there may be said to be an armed truce always to be found existing

among them. Still, all that is not known to people outside of these

circles; for those within them are animated by a common national

sentiment, which leads them to conceal such feelings from others, so as

to "uphold the credit of their country," wherever they go. It will be a

difficult matter to get the Gipsies heartily acknowledged among such

elements as equals; for it makes many a native Scot wild, to tell him

that there are Scottish Gipsies as good, if not better, men than he is,

or any kith or kin that belongs to him.

And yet, it is not the Scottish gentleman--the gentleman by birth,

rearing, education, mind, or manners--who will be backward to assist in

raising up, and dignifying, the name of Gipsy. No; it will be the

low-minded and ignorant Scots; people who are always either fawning

upon, or sneering at, those above them, or trampling, or attempting to

trample, upon those below them. It is very apt to be that class which

Lord Jeffrey describes as "having a double allowance of selfishness,

with a top-dressing of pedantry and conceit," and some of the "but and

ben" gentry, who will sneer most at the word Gipsy. It is the flunkey,

who lives and brings up his family upon the cast-off clothes and broken

victuals of others, and out for whom such things would find their way to

the rag-basket and the pigs; 'tis he and his children who are too often

the most difficult to please in the matter of descent, and the most

likely to perpetuate the prejudice against the Gipsy tribe.

I have taken some trouble to ascertain the feelings of Scotchmen in

America towards the Scottish Gipsies, such as they are represented in

these pages; and I find that, among the really educated and liberally

brought up classes, there are not to be discovered those prejudices

against them, that are expressed by the lower classes, and especially

those from country places. It is natural for the former kind of people

to take the most liberal view of a question like the present; for they

are, in a measure, satisfied with their position in life; while, with

the lower classes, it is a feeling of restless discontentment that leads

them to strive to get some one under them. No one would seem to like to

be at the bottom of any society; and nowhere less so than in Scotland. A

good education and up-bringing, and a knowledge of the world, likewise

give a person a more liberal cast of mind, wherewith to form an opinion

upon the subject of the Gipsies; and it is upon such that I would mainly

rely in an attempt to raise up the name of Gipsy. Among the lower

classes of my own countrymen, I find individuals all that could be

desired in the matter of esteeming the Gipsies, according to the

characters they bear, and the positions they occupy in life; but they

are exceptions to the classes to which they belong. Here is a specimen

of the kind of Scot the most difficult to break in to entertaining a

proper feeling upon the subject of the Gipsies:

By birth, he is a child of that dependent class that gets a due share of

the broken victuals and cast-off clothes of other people. His parents

are decent and honest enough people, but very conceited and

self-sufficient. Any person in the shape of a mechanic, a labourer, or a

peasant, appears as nobody to them; although, in independence, and even

circumstances, they are not to be compared to many a peasant. The

"oldest bairn" takes his departure for the New World, "with the firm

determination to show to the world that he is a man," and "teach the

Yankees something." The first thing he does to "show the world that he

is a man," is to sneer, behave rudely, and attempt to pick quarrels with

a better class of his own countrymen, when he comes in contact with

them. Providence has not been over-indulgent with him in the matters of

perceptors or reflectors; for, what little he knows, he has acquired in

the manner that chickens pick up their food, when it is placed before

them. But he has been gifted with a wonderful amount of self-conceit,

which nothing can break down in him, however much it may be abashed for

the moment. No one boasts more of his "family," to those who do not know

who his family are, although his family were brought up in a cage, and

so small a cage, that some of them must have roosted on the spars

overhead at night. No one is more independent, none more patriotic; no

one boasts more of Wallace and Bruce, Burns and Scott, and all the

worthies; to him there is no place in the world like "auld Scotland

yet;" no one glories more in "the noble qualities of the Scot;" and

none's face burns with more importance in upholding, unchallenged, what

he claims to be his character; yet the individual is a compound of

conceit and selfishness, meanness and sordidness, and is estimated,

wherever he goes, as a "perfect sweep." Although no one is more given to

toasting, "Brithers a' the world o'er," and, "A man's a man for a'

that," yet speak of the Gipsies to him, and he exclaims: "Thank God!

there's no a drap o' Gipsy blood in me; no one drap o't!" Not only is he

unable to comprehend the subject, but he is unwilling to hear the word

Gipsy mentioned. In short, he turns up his nose at the subject, and

howls like a dog.[324]

[324] It is interesting to compare this feeling with that of the

lowest order of Spaniards, as described by Mr. Borrow. "The outcast of

the prison and the _presidio_, who calls himself Spaniard, would feel

insulted by being termed Gitano, and would thank God that he is not."

_Page 386._

It is the better kind of Scottish people, in whatever sphere of life

they are to be found, on whom the greatest reliance is to be placed in

raising up and dignifying the word Gipsy. This peculiar family of

mankind has been fully three centuries and a half in the country, and it

is high time that it should be acknowledged, in some form or other; high

time, certainly, that we should know something about it. To an

intelligent people it must appear utterly ridiculous that a prejudice is

to be entertained against any Scotchman, without knowing who that

Scotchman is, merely on account of his blood. Nor will any intelligent

Scotchman, after the appearance of this work, be apt to say that he does

not understand the subject of the Gipsies; or that they cease to be

Gipsies by leaving the tent, or by a change of character or habits, or

by their blood getting mixed. It will not do for any one to snap at the

heels of this question: he must look at it steadily, and approach it

with a clear head, a firm hand, and a Christian heart, and remove this

stigma that has been allowed to attach to his country. No one in

particular can be blamed for the position which the Gipsies occupy in

the country: let by-gones be by-gones; let us look to the future for

that expression of opinion which the subject calls for. This much I feel

satisfied of, that if the Gipsy subject is properly handled, it would

result in the name becoming as much an object of respect and attachment

in many of the race, as it is now considered a reproach in others. There

is much that is interesting in the name, and nothing necessarily low or

vulgar associated with it; although there is much that is wild and

barbarous connected with the descent, which is peculiar to the descent

of all original tribes. It is unnecessary to say, that in a part of the

race, we still find much that is wild, and barbarous, and roguish.

The latter part of the Gipsy nation, whether settled or itinerant, must

be reached indirectly, for reasons which have already been given; for it

does not serve much purpose to interfere too directly with them, as

Gipsies. We should bring a reflective influence to bear upon them, by

holding up to their observation, some of their own race in respectable

positions in life, and respected by the world, as men, though not known

to be Gipsies. I could propose no better plan to be adopted, with some

of these people, than to give them a copy of the present work, along

with the Pilgrim's Progress, containing a short account of the Gipsies,

and a Gipsy's encampment for a frontispiece. The world may well believe

that the Gipsies would read both of them, and be greatly benefited by

the Pilgrim's Progress; for, as a race, they are exceedingly vain about

anything connected with themselves. Said I to some English Gipsies: "You

are the vainest people in the world; you think a vast deal of

yourselves." "There is good reason for that," they replied; "if we do

not think something of ourselves, there are no others to do it for us."

Now since John Bunyan has become so famous throughout the world, and so

honoured by all sects and parties, what an inimitable instrument

Providence has placed in our hands wherewith to raise up the name of

Gipsy! Through him we can touch the heart of Christendom! I am well

aware that the Church of Scotland has, or at least had, a mission among

the itinerant Scottish Gipsies. In addition to the means adopted by this

mission, to improve these Gipsies, it would be well to take such steps

as I have suggested, so as to raise up the name of Gipsy. For, in this

way, the Gipsies, of all classes, would see that they are not outcasts;

but that the prejudices which people entertain for them are applicable

to their ways of life, only, and not to their blood or descent, tribe or

language. Their hearts would then become more easily touched, their

affections more readily secured; and the attempt made to improve them

would have a much better chance of being successful. A little judgment

is necessary in conducting an intercourse with the wild Gipsy, or,

indeed, any kind of Gipsy; it is very advisable to speak well of "the

blood," and never to confound the race with the conduct of part of it.

There is hardly anything that can give a poor Gipsy greater pleasure

than to tell him something about his people, and particularly should

they be in a respectable position in life, and be attached to their

nation. It serves no great purpose to appear too serious with such a

person, for that soon tires him. It is much better to keep him a little

buoyant and cheerful, with anecdotes and stories, for that is his

natural character; and to take advantage of occasional opportunities, to

slip in advices that are to be of use to him. What is called

long-facedness is entirely thrown away upon a Gipsy of this kind.

I am very much inclined to believe that a Gipsy, well up in the scale of

Scottish society, experiences, in one respect, nearly the same feelings

in coming in contact with a wild Gipsy, that are peculiar to any other

person. These are of a very singular nature. At first, we feel as if we

were going into the lair of a wild animal, or putting our finger into a

snake's mouth; such is the result of the prejudice in which we have been

reared from infancy; but these feelings become greatly modified as we

get accustomed to the people. The world has never had the opportunity of

fairly contemplating any other kind of Gipsy; hence the extreme

prejudice against the name. But when we get accustomed to meet with

other kinds of Gipsies, and have associations with them, the feeling of

prejudice changes to that of decided interest and attachment. I have met

with various Scottish Gipsies of the female sex, in America, and, among

others, one who could sit any day for an ideal likeness of the mother of

Burns. She takes little of the Gipsy in her appearance. There is

another, taking greatly after the Gipsy, born in Scotland, and reared in

America; a very fine motherly person, indeed. I cannot, at the present

stage of matters, mention the word Gipsy to her, but I know very well

that she is a Gipsy. It takes some time for the feeling of prejudice for

the word Gipsy to wear off, when contemplating even a passable kind of

Gipsy. That object would be much more easily attained, were the people

to own "the blood," unreservedly and cheerfully; for the very reserve,

to a great extent, creates, at least keeps alive, the prejudice. But

that cannot well take place till the word "Gipsy" bears the

signification of gentleman, in some of the race, as it does of vagabond,

in others.

Some of my readers may still ask: "What is a Gipsy, after all that has

been said upon the subject? Since it is not necessarily a question of

colour of face, or hair, or eyes, or of creed, or character, or of any

outward thing by which a human being can be distinguished; what is it

that constitutes a Gipsy?" And I reply: "Let them read this work

through, and thoroughly digest all its principles, and they can _feel_

what a Gipsy is, should they stumble upon one, it may be, in their own

sphere of life, and hear him, or her, admit the fact, and speak

unreservedly of it. They will then feel their minds rubbing against the

Gipsy mind, their spirits communing with the Gipsy spirit, and

experience a peculiar mental galvanic shock, which they never felt

before."[325] It is impossible to say where the Gipsy soul may not exist

at the present day, for there is this peculiarity about the tribe, as I

have said before, that it always remains Gipsy, cross it out to the last

drop of the original blood; for where that drop goes, the Gipsy soul

accompanies it.[326]

[325] Let us suppose that a person, who has read all the works that

have hitherto appeared on the Gipsies, and noticed the utter absence,

in them, of everything of the nature of a philosophy of the subject,

thoroughly masters all that is set forth in the present work. The

knowledge which he _then_ possesses puts him in such a position, that

he approximates to being one of the tribe, himself; that is, if all

that is contained therein be known to him and the tribe, only, it

would enable him to pass current, in certain circles of Gipsydom, as

one of themselves.

[326] There is a point which I have not explained so fully as I might

have done, and it is this: "Is any of the blood _ever lost_? that is,

does it _ever cease to be Gipsy_, in knowledge and feeling?" That is a

question not easily answered in the affirmative, were it only for this

reason: how can it ever be ascertained that the knowledge and feeling

of being Gipsies become lost? Let us suppose that a couple of Gipsies

leave England, and settle in America, and that they never come in

contact with any of their race, and that their children never learn

anything of the matter from any quarter. (Page 413.) In such an

extreme, I may say, such an unnatural, case, the children would not be

Gipsies, but, if born in America, ordinary Americans. The only way in

which the Gipsy blood--that is, the Gipsy feeling--can possibly be

lost, is by a Gipsy, (a man especially,) marrying an ordinary native,

(page 381,) and the children never learning of the circumstance. But,

as I have said before, how is that ever to be ascertained? The

question might be settled in this way: Let the relatives of the Gipsy

interrogate the issue, and if it answers, _truly_, that it knows

nothing of the Gipsy connexion, and never has its curiosity in the

matter excited, it holds, beyond dispute, that "the blood" has been

lost to the tribe. For any loss the tribe may sustain, in that way, it

gains, in an ample degree, by drawing upon the blood of the native

race, and transmuting it into that of its own fraternity.

It is the Christian who should be the most ready to take up and do

justice to this subject; for he will find in it a very singular work of

Providence--the most striking phenomenon in the history of man. In

Europe, the race has existed, in an unacknowledged state, for a greater

length of time than the Jews dwelt in Egypt. And it is time that it

should be introduced to the family of mankind, in its aspect of

historical development; embracing, as in Scotland, members ranging from

what are popularly understood to be Gipsies, to those filling the first

positions in Christian and social society. After perusing the present

work, the reader will naturally pass on to reconsider the subject of the

Jews; and he will perceive that, instead of its being a miracle by which

the Jews have existed since the dispersion, it would have been a miracle

had they been lost among the families of mankind. It is quite sufficient

for the Christian to know that the Jews now exist, and that they have

fulfilled, and will yet fulfill, the prophecies that have been delivered

in regard to them, without holding that any miracle has been wrought for

that end. A Christian ought to be more considerate in his estimate of

what a miracle is: he ought to know that a miracle is something that is

contrary to natural laws; and that the existence of the Jews, since the

dispersion, is in exact harmony with every natural law. He should not

maintain that it is a miracle, for nothing having the decent appearance

of an argument can be advanced in support of any such theory; and far

less should he, with his eyes open, do what the writer on the Christian

Evidences, alluded to, (page 459,) did, with his shut--gamble away both

law and gospel.[327] He might give his attention, however, to a prophecy

of Moses, quoted by St. Paul, in Rom. x. 19, from Deut. xxxii. 21,

wherein it is said of the Jews: "I will provoke you to jealousy by them

that are no people, and by a foolish nation I will anger you;" and lend

his assistance towards its fulfillment.[328] The subject of the Gipsies

is certainly calculated to do all that the prophet said would happen to

the Jews; if Christians will only do their duty to them, and, by playing

them off against the Jews, _provoke_ and _anger_ Israel beyond measure.

That the Jews have existed, since the dispersion, by the Providence of

God, is what can be said of any other people, and more especially of the

Gipsies for the last four centuries and a half in Europe. It is as

natural for the Gipsies to exist in their scattered state, as for other

nations by the laws that preserve their identity; and although their

history may be termed remarkable, it is in no sense of the word

miraculous, notwithstanding the superstitious ideas held by many of the

Gipsies on that head, in common with the Jews regarding their history. A

thousand years hence the Gipsies will be found existing in the world;

for, as a people, they cannot die out; and the very want of a religion

peculiar to themselves is one of the means that will contribute to that

end.[329] It is the Christian who should endeavour to have the prejudice

against the name of Gipsy removed, so that every one of the race should

freely own his blood to the other, and make it the basis of a kindly

feeling, and a bond of brotherhood, all around the world.

[327] It was the nature of man, in ancient times, as it is with the

heathen to-day, to _worship_ what could not be understood; while

modern civilization seems to attribute such phenomena to _miracles_.

It is even presumptuous to have recourse to such an alternative, for

the enquirer may be deficient in the intellect necessary to prosecute

such investigations, or he may not be in possession of sufficient

data. If the European will, for example, ask himself, 1stly: what is

the idea which he has of a Gipsy? 2ndly: what are the feelings which

he entertains for him personally? And 3dly: what must be the response

of the Gipsy to the sentiments of the other? he cannot avoid coming to

the conclusion, that the race should "marry among themselves," and

that, "let them be in whatever situation of life they may, they all"

should "stick to each other." (_Page 369._)

[328] Viewing the Gipsies as they are described in this work, and

contrasting their history with that of the nations of the world in

general, and the Jews in particular, and considering that they have no

religion peculiar to themselves, yet are scattered among, and worked

into, all nations, but not acknowledged by, or even known to, others,

we may, with the utmost propriety, call them, in the language of the

prophet, "no people," and a "foolish nation;" yet by no means a nation

of fools, but rather more rogues than fools. Of all the ways in which

the Gipsies have hoaxed other people, the manner in which they have

managed to throw around themselves a sense of their non-existence to

the minds of others, is the most remarkable.

[329] The prejudice of their fellow-creatures is a sufficiently potent

cause, in itself, to preserve the identity of the Gipsy tribe in the

world. It has made it to resemble an essence, hermetically sealed.

Keep it in that position, and it retains its inherent qualities

undiminished; but uncork the vessel containing it, and it might (I do

not say it _would_) evaporate among the surrounding elements.

I may be allowed to say a word or two to the Gipsies, and more

especially the Scottish Gipsies. I wish them to believe, (what they,

indeed, believe already,) that their blood and descent are good enough;

and that Providence may reasonably be assumed to look upon both with as

much complacency and satisfaction, as He does on any other blood and

descent. All that they have to do is to "behave themselves;" for, after

all, it is behaviour that makes the man. By all means "stick to the

ship," but sail her as an honourable merchantman. They need not be

afraid at being discovered to be Gipsies; they should feel as much

assured on the subject now, as before the publication of this work, and

never entertain the least misgiving on that score. They will have an

occasion to cultivate a proper degree of confidence in respect to

themselves, and be so prepared as never to commit themselves, if they

wish not to be known as Gipsies. I know there are few people who have

nerve enough so to deport themselves, as to prevent moral detection, who

have committed murder, when they are confronted with the objects of it;

but if the individuals are perfectly satisfied of there being no

evidence against them, they may confidently assume an appearance of

innocence. It is so with the Gipsies in settled life, as to their being

Gipsies. Generally speaking, their blood is so much mixed as almost to

defy detection; although, for the future, some of them will be very apt

to look at themselves in their mirrors, to see whether there is much of

the "black deil" in their faces. But it rests with themselves to escape

detection, and particularly so as regards the fair, brown, and red

Gipsies.

I may also be allowed to say a word or two to the Church, and people

generally. It says little for them, that, although two centuries have

elapsed since Bunyan's time, no one has acknowledged him. It surely

might have occurred to them to ask, _1stly_: What was that particular

family, or tribe, of which Bunyan said he was a member? _2ndly_: Who are

the tinkers? _3dly_: What was the meaning of Bunyan entertaining so much

solicitude, and undergoing so much trouble, to ascertain whether he, (a

_common Englishman_, forsooth!) was a Jew, or not? _4thly_: Was John

Bunyan a Gipsy? Let my reader reply to these questions, like a man of

honour. Aye or nay, was John Bunyan a Gipsy? "He _was_ a Gipsy."

In modern times people will preach the gospel "around about Illyricum,"

compass sea and land, and penetrate every continent, to bring home

Christian trophies; while in Bunyan they have a trophy--a real case of

"grace abounding;" and yet no one has acknowledged him, although his

fame will be as lasting as the pyramids. John Bunyan was evidently a man

who was raised up by God for some great purposes. One of these purposes

he has served, and will yet serve; and it becomes us to enquire what

further purpose he is destined to serve. It is showing a poor respect

for Bunyan's memory, to deny him his nationality, to rob him of his

birth-right, and attempt to make him out to have been that which he

positively was not. To gratify their own prejudices, people would

degrade the illustrious dreamer, from being this great original, into

being the off-scourings of all England. People imagine that they would

degrade Bunyan by saying that he was a Gipsy. They degrade themselves

who do not believe he was a Gipsy; they doubly degrade themselves who

deny it. Jews may well taunt Christians in the matter of evidences, and

that on a simple matter of fact, affecting no one's interests, temporal

or eternal, and as clear as the sun at mid-day; for by Bunyan's own

showing he was a Gipsy; but if any further evidence was wanted, how

easily could it not have been collected, any time during the last two

hundred years!

I have hitherto got the "cold shoulder" from the organs of most of the

religious denominations on this subject: time will show whether it is

always to be so. The Church should know what is its mission: it rests on

evidence itself, and it should be the first to follow out its own

principles. It should fight its own battles, and give the enemy no

occasion to speak reproachfully of it. In approaching this subject, it

would be well to do it cheerfully, and gracefully, and manfully, and not

as if the person were dragged to it, with a rope around his neck. No one

need imagine that by keeping quiet, this matter will blow over. For the

Gipsy race cannot die out; nor is this work likely to die out soon; for

unless it is superseded by some other, it will come up centuries hence,

to judge the present generation on the Gipsy question. May such as have

written on the great dreamer never lift up their heads, may his works

turn to hot coals in their fingers, may their memories be outlawed, if

they allow this unchristian, this unmanly, this silly, this childish,

prejudice of caste to prevent them from doing justice to their hero. Nor

need any one utter a murmur at the prospect of seeing the Pilgrim's

Progress prefaced by a dissertation on the Gipsies, with a Gipsy's camp

for a frontispiece. Such a feeling may be expressed by boors, snobs, and

counterfeit religionists; but better things are to be expected from

other people.

Let the reader now pause, and reflect upon the prejudice of caste that

exists against the name of Gipsy, and he will fully realize how it is

that we should know so little about the Gipsies, and why it is that the

Gipsies, as they leave the tent, should hide their nationality from the

rest of the world, and "stick to each other."

In bringing this Disquisition on the Gipsies to a close, I may be

allowed to say a word or two to some of the critics. In the first place,

I may venture to assert, that the _subject_ is worthy of a criticism the

most disinterested and profound. I am well aware that the publication of

the work places me in a position antagonistic alike to authors and

critics who have written on the subject, as well as to the prejudices of

mankind generally. If critics call in question any of the facts

contained in the production, they must give their authorities; if they

controvert any of the principles, they must give their reasons. It will

not do to play the ostrich instead of the critic. For as the ostrich is

said to hide its head in the sand, or in a bush, or, it may be, under

its wing, and imagine that because it sees no one, so no one sees it; so

there are people, sometimes to be met with, who will not only imagine,

but assert, that because they know nothing of a thing, or because they

do not understand it, therefore, the thing itself does not exist. This

was the way in which Bruce's travels in Africa were received. But we are

not living in those times. Procedure such as that described, is playing

the ostrich, not the critic. I refer more particularly, however, to what

is contained in this Disquisition. Taking the work all through, I think

there are sufficient materials contained in it, to enable the critics to

settle the various questions among themselves.

To place myself in a position a little independent of publishers, (for I

have had great difficulty in finding a publisher,) I had the

Introduction, (pages 55-67), printed, and circulated among some

acquaintances in Canada, for subscribers.[330] A copy of it fell into

the hands of an intelligent Scottish newspaper editor, in a small

community, where every one knows every other's business nearly as well

as his own, and where all about the Prospectus was explained to those to

whom it was given. It seems to have frightened and enraged the editor

to such an extent, that I entertain little doubt he did not sleep

comfortably, for nights in succession, on finding that subject brought

to light at his own door, which has been considered, by some, as

well-nigh dead and buried long ago. He imagines the circulation of the

Prospectus to be confined pretty much to his own neighbourhood; and so

he must crush the horrible thing out. But what can he say about it? How

put it down? A capital idea occurs to him; he will father it upon

Barnum! Let the reader glance again at the Introduction, and imagine how

a Scotchman, well posted up on Scotch affairs, past and present, should

credit Barnum with the production. He heads his criticism, "The science

of humbug," and, in some long and bitter paragraphs, pitches into what

he calls American literary quackery; the substance of which is, that the

work represented by the Prospectus, is a rare tit-bit of genuine,

Barnumized, American humbug!

[330] The MS. of this work has undergone many vicissitudes. Among

others, it may be mentioned that, in the state in which it was left by

the author, it was twice lost, and once stolen; on which last occasion

it was recovered, at an expense of one shilling! Then the original

copy, in its present form, was stolen, and never recovered. In both

instances did that happen under circumstances that such a fate was

most unlikely to befall it. Then a copy of it was sent to Scotland,

and never acknowledged, although I am in hopes it is now on its

return, after a lapse of nearly three years; in which case, I will be

more fortunate than the author, who gave the MS. to an individual and

never got, and never could get, it back.

He finds, however, that he has gone much too far in his description of

the Prospectus; so he comes tumbling down a long way from the high

position which he took at the start, and continues: "Now, we do not, at

present, venture the assertion that the forthcoming 'Scottish Gipsies'

is a Yankee get-up, a mere American humbug; but we say the Prospectus

savours strongly of the Barnum school; and our reasons for so saying are

the following: _Firstly_: It would be nothing less than a literary

miracle, that a Scottish work of sufficient merit to command the highest

commendations of Sir Walter Scott, and Blackwood's Magazine, should be

published, first of all in America, thirty years afterwards--published,

by subscription, at one dollar, in a book of 400 pages. We assert,

positively, that of such a work William Blackwood, alone, could have

disposed of five thousand copies, at double the proposed price. [He is

well acquainted with the prices of books in the two countries.]

_Secondly_: There is no evidence to connect Sir Walter Scott's note to

Quentin Durward with Walter Simson, or any other particular individual;

and the same may be said of the _jingle_ of Professor Wilson, and the

other allusions in Blackwood's Magazine. _Thirdly_: There is neither

danger nor difficulty in writing anything you please, and telling the

public it is an extract of a private letter you had from some particular

man of eminence, thirty years ago, provided your eminent friend has

been many years in his grave. Such a fraud is not easily detected. And

_Fourthly_: The reason assigned for publishing the 'Scottish Gipsies'

. . . . . is totally upset by the simple fact, that _there are no such

people in existence, in so far as Scotland is concerned_. [What an

audacity he displays here! What a liberty he takes with the Scotch

settlers in his neighbourhood! He is evidently afraid that he has gone

too far; so he qualifies what he has said, by adding:] There are, it is

true, a few families of itinerant tinkers, or _Tinklers_, according to

our peculiar vernacular, who stroll the country, and subsist by making

horn-spoons and sauce-pans, which they barter with the rural peasantry,

for potatoes and other eatables. They are generally wild, reckless, and

dishonest, and are a terror to children and old women. In nineteen cases

out of twenty, they are natives of Ireland; and were any person idle

enough to trace their genealogy, he would discover that their ancestors,

not more than three generations back, were honest brogue-makers,

pig-drovers, or, it may be, members of some more elevated occupation.

[He has been 'idle enough' to give us a very odd account of the descent,

in two senses of the word, of the Irish tinkering Gipsies now in

Scotland.] The writer of these remarks is well acquainted with almost

the whole Lowlands, and a portion of the West Highlands. He has been

familiar with the shires of Fife and Linlithgow, with Annandale, the

Upper Ward of Lanarkshire, and the other fabulously reputed haunts of

the Gipsies [he seems to have done a little _tramping_ in his time]; and

he never saw twenty Scottish _Tinklers_ in his whole life, nor _one

single individual_ corresponding to the description we have received of

the Gipsies. [He has told us who the _Irish Tinklers_ in Scotland were

originally, but does not venture to say anything of the _Scottish_ ones.

He will not admit that there is a _Gipsy_ in Scotland, or ever has been;

and virtually denies that there are Gipsies in England; for he

continues:] The nearest approach to the character is the hawkers from

the Staffordshire potteries, who are found living in tents by the

way-side, throughout the North Riding of Yorkshire, and the five

northern counties of England. These are a kind of savages, who live in

families, strolling the country, in large caravans, consisting

frequently of half a dozen canvas-covered wagons and twice that number

of horses. . . . . . These characters often cross the Border, at

Langholm and Gretna Green, and infest Annandale, Roxburghshire,

Dumfries-shire, and the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. [He will not allude

to the _tented Gipsies_ in England.]

"These two classes of foreign vagrants [why does he call them _foreign_

vagrants? why not say _Gipsies_?] which we mention, are to be found,

occasionally, in certain localities of Scotland, [still nothing said of

the _Scottish Tinklers_,] and are to be found as a dreaded, dangerous

nuisance. But the idea of a race of Scottish Tinklers, or Scottish

Gipsies, existing as a distinct and separate people, possessing a

native, independent language, and peculiar habits, rites, and

ceremonies, and bearing, in many features of their barbarous customs,

and outcast destiny, a resemblance to the vagabond Jews; such an idea,

we say, has as little foundation in fact, as has Swift's story of the

Lilliputians, or the romance of Guy Mannering itself! [It is astonishing

what he would not attempt to palm upon the public. Still, he is

evidently afraid that the subject will, somehow or other, bite him; and,

after all that he has said, he concludes:] Still, we do not, _at

present_, assert that the Prospectus we have received is another 'cute

move of American humbug; but we do say, if there is a James Simson in

existence, who possesses such a manuscript, and such commendations of it

as are set forth in this Prospectus, he has already erred sufficiently

far to ensure his identification with Yankee quackery. He has been

Barnumized into an egregious blunder." [He is bound to discredit the

whole affair, under any circumstances, even at the expense of the

plainest consistency.]

Well might a brother editor reply to the foregoing, thus: "The bile of

our excellent friend has just been agitated after a pestilent fashion.

. . . . . The announcement [of the intended publication] hath all the

ungenial effects upon our gossip that the exhibition of a pair of

scarlet decencies produces upon a cranky bull. . . . . . Now, just

listen to us quietly for a little. More than two years ago, the

manuscript of the above-mentioned treatise on the Scoto-Egyptians came

under our ken. We perused the affair with special appetite, and were

decidedly of opinion that its publication would be a grateful and

important boon to the republic of letters. Mr. Simson is neither a myth

nor a disciple of Barnum." Upon the back of this, the first editor

writes: "We are pleased to be informed that the work is a _bona fide_

production, and that Mr. Simson is no Yankee fiction. [As if he did not

know that from the first.] And albeit he, [the other editor,] furnisheth

neither facts nor arguments to satisfy us that our notions of the

Gipsies of Scotland are heretical, we willingly accept his recommend

that the 'Scottish Gipsies' will be, at least, an entertaining book, and

reserve all further remarks till we see it."[!]

The foregoing is a very curious criticism; and although I could say a

great deal more about it, I refrain from doing so.

INDEX.

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