The hunting tribes of air and earth

Respect the brethren of their birth;

Nature, who loves the claim of kind,

Less cruel, chase to each assigned.

The falcon, poised on soaring wing,

Watches the wild-duck by the spring;

The slow-hound wakes the fox's lair;

The greyhound presses on the hare;

The eagle pounces on the lamb;

The wolf devours the fleecy dam:

Even tiger fell and sullen bear

Their likeness and their lineage spare.

Man, only, mars kind Nature's plan

And turns the fierce pursuit on man;

Plying war's desultory trade,

Incursion, flight, and ambuscade,

Since Nimrod, Cush's mighty son

At first the bloody game begun.]

CHAPTER CCXXVIII.

RATS.—PLAN OF THE LAUREATE SOUTHEY FOR LESSENING THEIR NUMBER.—THE

DOCTOR'S HUMANITY IN REFUSING TO SELL POISON TO KILL VERMIN, AFTER THE

EXAMPLE OF PETER HOPKINS HIS MASTER.—POLITICAL RATS NOT ALLUDED

TO.—RECIPE FOR KILLING RATS.

I know that nothing can be so innocently writ, or carried, but may be

made obnoxious to construction; marry, whilst I bear mine innocence

about me, I fear it not.

BEN JONSON.

The Laureate Southey proposed some years ago in one of his numerous

and multifarious books, three methods for lessening the number of

rats, one of which was to inoculate some of these creatures with the

small pox or any other infectious disease, and turn them loose.

Experiments, he said, should first be made, lest the disease should

assume in them so new a form, as to be capable of being returned to us

with interest. If it succeeded, man has means in his hand which would

thin the hyenas, wolves, jackals and all gregarious beasts of prey.

Considering the direction which the March of his Intellect has long

been taking, it would surprise me greatly if the Laureate were now to

recommend or justify any such plan. For setting aside the contemplated

possibility of physical danger, there are moral and religious

considerations which ought to deter us from making use of any such

means, even for an allowable end.

Dr. Dove, like his master and benefactor Peter Hopkins before him,

never would sell poison for destroying vermin. Hopkins came to that

resolution in consequence of having been called as a witness upon a

trial for poisoning at York. The arsenic had not been bought at his

shop; but to prevent the possibility of being innocently instrumental

to the commission of such a crime, he made it from that time a rule

for himself, irrevocable as the laws of the Medes and Persians, that

to no person whatever, on any account, would he supply ingredients

which by carelessness or even by unavoidable accident might be so

fatally applied.

To this rule his pupil and successor, our Doctor, religiously adhered.

And when any one not acquainted with the rule of the shop, came there

on such an errand, he used always, if he was on the spot, to recommend

other methods, adapting his arguments to what he knew of the person's

character, or judged of it from his physiognomy. To an ill-conditioned

and ill-looking applicant he simply recommended certain ways of

entrapping rats as more convenient, and more likely to prove

efficacious: but to those of whom he entertained a more favourable

opinion, he would hint at the cruelty of using poison, observing that

though we exercised a clear natural right in destroying noxious

creatures, we were not without sin if in so doing we inflicted upon

them any suffering more than what must needs accompany a violent

death.

Some good natured reader who is pestered with rats in his house, his

warehouses, or his barns, will perhaps when he comes to this part of

our book wish to be informed in what manner our Zoophilist would have

advised him to rid himself of these vermin.

There are two things to be considered here, first how to catch rats,

and secondly, how to destroy them when caught. And the first of these

questions is a delicate one, when a greater catch has recently been

made than any that was ever heard of before, except in the famous

adventure of the Pied Piper at Hammel. Jack Robinson had some

reputation in his day for his professional talents in this line, but

he was a bungler in comparison with Mr. Peel.

The second belongs to a science which Jeremy the thrice illustrious

Bentham calls Phthisozoics, or the art of destruction applied to

noxious animals, a science which the said Jeremy proposes should form

part of the course of studies in his Chrestomathic school. There are

no other animals in this country who do so much mischief now as the

disciples of Jeremy himself.

But leaving this pestilent set, as one of the plagues with which Great

Britain is afflicted for its sins; and intending no offence to any

particular Bishop, Peer, Baronet, Peer-expectant, or public man

whatever, and protesting against any application of what may here be

said to any person who is, has been, or may be included under any of

the forementioned denominations, I shall satisfy the good-natured

reader's desires, and inform him in what manner our Philosopher and

Zoophilist (philanthropist is a word which would poorly express the

extent of his benevolence) advised those who consulted him as to the

best manner of taking and destroying rats. Protesting therefore once

more, as is needful in these ticklish times that I am speaking not of

the Pro-papist or Anti-Hanoverian rat, which is a new species of the

Parliament rat, but of the old Norway or Hanoverian one, which in the

last century effected the conquest of our island by extirpating the

original British breed, I inform the humane reader that the Doctor

recommended nothing more than the common rat-catcher's receit, which

is to lure them into a cage by oil of carroways, or of rhodium, and

that when entrapped, the speediest and easiest death which can be

inflicted is by sinking the cage in water.

Here Mr. Slenderwit, critic in ordinary to an established journal,

wherein he is licensed to sink, burn and destroy any book in which his

publisher has not a particular interest, turns down the corners of his

mouth in contemptuous admiration, and calling to mind the anecdote of

Grainger's invocation repeats in a tone of the softest

self-complacence “Now Muse, let's sing of Rats!” And Mr. Slapdash who

holds a similar appointment in a rival periodical slaps his thigh in

exultation upon finding so good an opportunity for a stroke at the

anonymous author. But let the one simper in accompaniment to the

other's snarl. I shall say out my say in disregard of both. Aye

Gentlemen,

For if a Humble Bee should kill a Whale

With the butt end of the Antarctic pole,

Tis nothing to the mark at which we aim.

CHAPTER CCXXIX.

RATS LIKE LEARNED MEN LIABLE TO BE LED BY THE NOSE.—THE ATTENDANT UPON

THE STEPS OF MAN, AND A SORT OF INSEPARABLE ACCIDENT.—SEIGNEUR DE

HUMESESNE AND PANTAGRUEL.

Where my pen hath offended,

I pray you it may be amended

By discrete consideration

Of your wise reformation:

I have not offended, I trust,

If it be sadly discust.

SKELTON.

Marvel not reader that rats, though they are among the most sagacious

of all animals, should be led by the nose. It has been the fate of

many great men, many learned men, most weak ones and some cunning

ones.

When we regard the comparative sagacity of animals, it should always

be remembered that every creature, from the lowest point of sentient

existence upward, till we arrive at man, is endued with sagacity

sufficient to provide for its own well-being, and for the continuance

of its kind. They are gifted with greater endowments as they ascend in

the scale of being, and those who lead a life of danger, and at the

same time of enterprise, have their faculties improved by practice,

take lessons from experience, and draw rational conclusions upon

matters within their sphere of intellect and of action, more

sagaciously than nine tenths of the human race can do.

Now no other animal is placed in circumstances which tend so

continually to sharpen its wits,—(were I writing to the learned only,

I should perhaps say to acuate its faculties, or to develope its

intellectual powers,) as the rat, nor does any other appear to be of a

more improvable nature. He is of a most intelligent family, being

related to the Beaver. And in civilized countries he is not a wild

creature, for he follows the progress of civilization, and adapts his

own habits of life to it, so as to avail himself of its benefits.

The “pampered Goose” who in Pope's Essay retorts upon man, and says

that man was made for the use of Geese, must have been forgetful of

plucking time, as well as ignorant of the rites that are celebrated in

all old-fashioned families on St. Michael's day. But the Rat might

with more apparent reason support such an assertion: he is not

mistaken in thinking that corn-stacks are as much for his use as for

the farmers; that barns and granaries are his winter magazines; that

the Miller is his acting partner, the Cheesemonger his purveyor, and

the Storekeeper his steward. He places himself in relation with man,

not as his dependent like the dog, nor like the cat as his ally, nor

like the sheep as his property, nor like the ox as his servant, nor

like horse and ass as his slaves, nor like poultry who are to “come

and be killed” when Mrs. Bond invites them; but as his enemy, a bold

borderer, a Johnnie Armstrong or Rob Roy who acknowledge no right of

property in others, and live by spoil.

Wheresoever man goes, Rat follows, or accompanies him. Town or country

are equally agreeable to him. He enters upon your house as a tenant at

will, (his own, not yours,) works out for himself a covered way in

your walls, ascends by it from one story to another, and leaving you

the larger apartments, takes possession of the space between floor and

ceiling, as an entresol for himself. There he has his parties, and his

revels and his gallopades, (merry ones they are) when you would be

asleep, if it were not for the spirit with which the youth and belles

of Rat-land keep up the ball over your head. And you are more

fortunate than most of your neighbours, if he does not prepare for

himself a mausoleum behind your chimney-piece or under your

hearth-stone,[1] retire into it when he is about to die, and very soon

afford you full proof that though he may have lived like a hermit, his

relics are not in the odour of sanctity. You have then the additional

comfort of knowing that the spot so appropriated will thenceforth be

used either as a common cemetery, or a family vault. In this respect,

as in many others, nearer approaches are made to us by inferior

creatures than are dreamt of in our philosophy.

[Footnote 1: Southey alludes here to an incident which occurred in his

own house. On taking up the hearth-stone in the dining-room at

Keswick, it was found that the mice had made underneath it a Campo

Santo,—a depository for their dead.]

The adventurous merchant ships a cargo for some distant port, Rat goes

with it. Great Britain plants a colony in Botany Bay, Van Diemen's

Land, or at the Swan River, Rat takes the opportunity for colonizing

also. Ships are sent out upon a voyage of discovery. Rat embarks as a

volunteer. He doubled the Stormy Cape with Diaz, arrived at Malabar in

the first European vessel with Gama, discovered the new world with

Columbus and took possession of it at the same time, and

circumnavigated the globe with Magellan and with Drake and with Cook.

After all, the Seigneur de Humesesne, whatever were the merits of that

great case which he pleaded before Pantagruel at Paris, had reasonable

grounds for his assertion when he said, _Monsieur et Messieurs, si

l'iniquité des hommes estoit aussi facilement vuë en jugement

categorique, comme on connoit mousches en lait, le monde quatre bœufs

ne seroit tant mangé de Rats comme il est._

The Doctor thought there was no creature to which you could trace back

so many persons in civilized society by the indications which they

afforded of habits acquired in their prænatal professional education.

In what other vehicle, during its ascent could the Archeus of the

Sailor have acquired the innate courage, the constant presence of

mind, and the inexhaustible resources which characterise a true

seaman? Through this link too, on his progress towards humanity, the

good soldier has past, who is brave, alert and vigilant, cautious

never to give his enemy an opportunity of advantage, and watchful to

lose the occasion that presents itself. From the Rat our Philosopher

traced the engineer, the miner, the lawyer, the thief, and the

thief-taker,—that is, generally speaking: some of these might have

pre-existed in the same state as moles or ferrets; but those who

excelled in their respective professions had most probably been

trained as rats.

The judicious reader will do me the justice to observe that as I am

only faithfully representing the opinions and fancies of my venerable

friend, I add neither M. P., Dean, Bishop nor Peer to the list, nor

any of those public men who are known to hanker after candle-ends and

cheese-parings.

Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time;

But men may construe things after their fashion,

Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.[2]

[Footnote 2: SHAKSPEARE.]

It behoves me to refrain more especially upon this subject from

anything which the malicious might interpret as scandal: for the word

itself _σκάνδαλον_, the Greek grammarians tell us, and the great

Anglo-Latin Lexicographist tells me, properly signifies that little

piece of wood in a mouse-trap or pit-fall, which bears up the trap,

and being touched, lets it fall.

CHAPTER CCXXX.

DISTINCTION BETWEEN YOUNG ANGELS AND YOUNG YAHOOS.—FAIRIES, KILLCROPS

AND CHANGELINGS.—LUTHER'S OPINIONS ON THE SUBJECT.—HIS COLLOQUIA

MENSALIA.—DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE OLD AND NEW EDITION.

I think it not impertinent sometimes to relate such accidents as may

seem no better than mere trifles; for even by trifles are the

qualities of great persons as well disclosed as by their great

actions; because in matters of importance they commonly strain

themselves to the observance of general commended rules; in lesser

things they follow the current of their own natures.

SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

It may easily be inferred from some of the Doctor's peculiar opinions,

or fancies, as he in unaffected humility would call them, that though

a dear lover of children, his love of them was not indiscriminate. He

made a great distinction between young angels and young yahoos, and

thought it might very early be discovered whether the angel or the

brute part predominated.

This is sometimes so strongly marked and so soon developed as to

excite observation even in the most incurious; and hence the

well-known superstition concerning Changelings.

In the heroic ages a divine origin is ascribed to such persons as were

most remarkable for their endowments either of body or of mind; but

this may far more probably be traced to adulation in the poets, than

to contemporary belief at any time prevailing among the people;

whereas the opposite superstition was really believed in the middle

ages, and traces of it are still to be found.

It is remarkable that the Fairies who in the popular belief of this

country are never represented as malignant upon any other occasion,

act an evil part in the supposed case of Changelings. So it is with

the Trolls also of our Scandinavian kinsmen, (though this race of

beings is in worse repute;) the children whom they substitute for

those whom they steal are always a plague to the nurse and to the

parents. In Germany such children were held to be young Devils, but

whether Mac-Incubi, Mac-Succubi, or O'Devils by the whole blood is not

clearly to be collected from Martin Luther, who is the great authority

upon this subject. He is explicit upon the fact that the Nix or Water

Fiend, increases the population by a mixed breed; but concerning the

Killcrops, as his countrymen the Saxons call them, whom the Devil

leaves in exchange, when he steals children for purposes best known to

himself, Luther does not express any definite opinion, farther than

that they are of a devilish nature: how fathered, how mothered the

reader is left to conjecture as he pleases.

“Eight years since,” said Luther, at “Dessaw I did see and touch a

changed child, which was twelve years of age; he had his eyes and all

members like another child; he did nothing but feed, and would eat as

much as two clowns or threshers were able to eat. When one touched it,

then it cried out. When any evil happened in the house, then it

laughed and was joyful; but when all went well, then it cried, and was

very sad. I told the Prince of Anhalt, that if I were Prince of that

country, so would I venture _homicidium_ thereon, and would throw it

into the river Moldaw. I admonished the people dwelling in that place

devoutly to pray to God to take away the Devil; the same was done

accordingly, and the second year after the Changeling died.

“In Saxonia, near unto Halberstad, was a man that also had a Killcrop,

who sucked the mother and five other women dry, and besides devoured

very much. This man was advised that he should in his pilgrimage at

Halberstad make a promise of the Killcrop to the Virgin Mary, and

should cause him there to be rocked. This advice the man followed, and

carried the Changeling thither in a basket. But going over a river,

being upon the bridge, another Devil that was below in the river

called, and said, Killcrop! Killcrop! Then the child in the basket,

(which never before spake one word) answered ho, ho! The Devil in the

water asked further, whither art thou going? The child in the basket

said, ‘I am going towards Halberstad to our Loving Mother, to be

rocked.’ The man being much affrighted thereat, threw the child with

the basket over the bridge into the water. Whereupon the two Devils

flew away together, and cried, ho, ho, ha! tumbling themselves one

over another and so vanished.

“Such Changelings and Killcrops,” said Luther, “_supponit Satan in

locum verorum filiorum;_ for the Devil hath this power, that he

changeth children, and instead thereof layeth Devils in the cradles,

which thrive not, only they feed and suck: but such Changelings live

not above eighteen or nineteen years. It oftentimes falleth out that

the children of women in child-bed are thus changed, and Devils laid

in their stead, one of which more fouleth itself than ten other

children do, so that the parents are much therewith disquieted; and

the mothers in such sort are sucked out, that afterwards they are able

to give suck no more. Such Changelings,” said Luther, “are baptized,

in regard that they cannot be known the first year, but are known only

by sucking the mothers dry.”

Mr. Cottle has made this the subject of a lively eclogue; but if that

gentleman had happened upon the modern edition of Luther's _Colloquia

Mensalia_, or Divine Discourses at his Table, instead of the old one,

this pleasant poem would never have been written, the account of the

Killcrops being one of the passages which the modern editor thought

proper to omit. His omissions are reprehensible, because no notice is

given that any such liberty has been taken; and indeed a paragraph in

the introductory life which is prefixed to the edition might lead the

reader to conclude that it is a faithful reprint; that paragraph

saying there are many things which, for the credit of Luther, might as

well have been left out, and proceeding to say, “but then it must be

considered that such Discourses must not be brought to the test of our

present refined age; that all what a man of Luther's name and

character spoke, particularly at the latter part of his life, was

thought by his friends worth the press, though himself meant it only

for the recreation of the company; that he altered many opinions in

his progress from darkness to light; and that it is with a work of

this kind, as with the publishing of letters which were never intended

for the press; the Author speaks his sentiments more freely, and you

are able to form a true idea of his character, by looking, as it were,

into his heart.” Nevertheless there are considerable omissions, and as

may be supposed of parts which are curious, and in a certain sense

valuable because they are characteristic. But the reprint was the

speculation of a low publisher, put forth in numbers, and intended

only for a certain class of purchasers, who would read the book for

edification. The work itself deserves farther notice, and that notice

is the more properly and willingly bestowed upon it here, because the

original edition is one of the few volumes belonging to my venerable

friend which have passed into my possession, and his mark occurs

frequently in its margin.

“I will make no long excursion here, but a short apology for one that

deserved well of the _reformed_ Religion. Many of our adversaries have

aspersed _Luther_, with ill words, but none so violent as our

_English_ fugitives, because he doth confess it that the _Devil_ did

encounter him very frequently, and familiarly, when he first put pen

to paper against the corruptions of the _Church of Rome_. In whose

behalf I answer: much of that which is objected I cannot find in the

_Latin Editions_ of his works which himself corrected, although it

appears by the quotations some such things were in his first writings

set forth in the Dutch language. 2. I say no more than he confesseth

ingenuously of himself in an epistle to _Brentius_, his meaning was

good, but his words came from him very unskilfully, and his style was

most rough and unsavoury. St. Paul says of himself, that he was _rudis

sermone, rude in speech_. But Luther was not so much _ἰδιώτης τῷ λόγῳ_

the word used in Saint Paul, as _ἄγροικος_, after his _Dutch

Monastical_ breeding, and his own hot freedom. By nature he had a

boisterous clownish expression; but for the most part very good jewels

of doctrine in the dunghills of his language. 3. If the devil did

employ himself to delude and vex that heroical servant of God, who

took such a task upon him, being a simple Monk, to inveigh against

errors and superstitions which had so long prevailed, why should it

seem strange to any man? _Ribadaneira_ sticks it among the praises of

his founder _Ignatius Loiola_, that the Devil did declaim and cry out

against him, (believe it every one of you at your leisure,) and why

might not the Devil draw near to vex _Luther_, as well as roar out a

great way off against _Loiola_? I have digrest a little with your

patience, to make _Luther's_ case appear to be no outrageous thing,

that weak ones may not be offended when they hear such stuff objected

out of _Parsons_, or _Barclay_, or _Walsingham_, or out of

_Bellarmine_ himself. If _Beelzebub_ was busy with the _Master_, what

will he be with the _Servants_? When Christ did begin to lay the first

corner stone of the _Gospel, then he walked into the wilderness to be

tempted of the Devil._”[1]

[Footnote 1: HACKET'S SERMONS.]

CHAPTER CCXXXI.

QUESTION AS TO WHETHER BOOKS UNDER THE TERMINATION OF “ANA” HAVE BEEN

SERVICEABLE OR INJURIOUS TO LITERATURE CONSIDERED IN CONNECTION WITH

LUTHER'S TABLE TALK.—HISTORY OF THE EARLY ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF THAT

BOOK, OF ITS WONDERFUL PRESERVATION, AND OF THE MARVELLOUS AND

UNIMPEACHABLE VERACITY OF CAPTAIN HENRY BELL.

Prophecies, predictions, Or where they abide,

Stories and fictions, On this or that side,

Allegories, rhymes, Or under the mid line

And serious pastimes Of the Holland sheets fine,

For all manner men, Or in the tropics fair

Without regard when, Of sunshine and clear air,

Or under the pole

Of chimney and sea coal:

Read they that list; understand they that can;

_Verbum satis est_ to a wise man.

BOOK OF RIDDLES.

Luther's Table Talk is probably the earliest of that class of books,

which, under the termination of _ana_, became frequent in the two

succeeding centuries, and of which it may be questioned whether they

have been more serviceable or injurious to literature. For though they

have preserved much that is valuable, and that otherwise might

probably have been lost, on the other hand they have introduced into

literary history not a little that is either false, or of suspicious

authority; some of their contents have been obtained by breach of

confidence; many sayings are ascribed in them to persons by whom they

were never uttered, and many things have been fabricated for them.

The Collection concerning Luther bears this title in the English

translation: “Doctoris Martini Lutheri Colloquia Mensalia: or, Dr.

Martin Luther's Divine Discourses at his Table, &c., which in his

lifetime he held with divers learned men, (such as were Philip

Melancthon, Casparus Cruciger, Justus Jonas, Paulus Eberus, Vitus

Dietericus, Joannes Bugenhagen, Joannes Forsterus, and others:)

containing Questions and Answers touching Religion, and other main

Points of Doctrine; as also many notable Histories, and all sorts of

Learning, Comforts, Advices, Prophecies, Admonitions, Directions and

Instructions. Collected first together by Dr. Antonius Lauterbach, and

afterwards disposed into certain Common-places by John Aurifaber,

Doctor in Divinity. Translated out of the High German into the English

tongue, by Captain Henry Bell.

John vi. 12. Gather up the fragments that nothing be lost.

1 Cor. x. 31. Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye

do, do all to the Glory of God.

Tertull. Apologet. cap. 39. The primitive Christians ate and drank

to satisfy nature, and discoursed at their Tables of the Holy

Scriptures, or otherwise, as became those that knew God did hear

them, _ut non tam cœnam cœnaverint, quam disciplinam_.

Ancient Writers, Councils, and our University College Statutes

require _sacra ad mensam_.

Luther in Gen. 2. _Sermones vera sunt condimenta ciborum._

Melchior Adamus in Vita Lutheri. _Inter prandendum et cænandum non

rarò conciones aliis dictavit._

London, Printed by William Du Gard, dwelling in Suffolk-lane, near

London-stone, 1652.”

The original Collection was first published three and thirty years

after Luther's death, consequently not till most of those persons from

whose reminiscences it professes to be compiled, had past away. The

book therefore is far from carrying with it any such stamp of

authenticity as Boswell's Life of Johnson, which in that respect, as

well as for its intrinsic worth is the Ana of all Anas. But though it

may have been undertaken upon book-making motives, there seems no

reason to suppose that the task was not performed faithfully by the

Doctors Clearstream and Goldsmith, according to their judgment, and

that much which had lightly or carelessly fallen from such a man as

Luther was likely to be carefully preserved, and come into their

hands. Many parts indeed authenticate themselves, bearing so strong a

likeness that no one can hesitate at filiating them upon the

ipsissimus Luther. The editor of the modern English edition, John

Gottlieb Burckhardt, D.D., who was Minister of the German Lutheran

Congregation in the Savoy, says, “the Book made a great noise at its

first appearance in 1569. Some indeed have called its authenticity in

question; but there is no reason to doubt of the testimony of Dr. John

Aurifaber; and indeed the full character of Luther's free manner of

speaking and thinking is seen almost in every line. The same manly,

open, bold and generous spirit breathes through the whole, as is felt

in reading the compositions which he published himself in his life

time. There is a pleasing variety of matters contained in these

discourses, and many fundamental truths are proposed in a familiar,

careless dress, and in Luther's own witty, acute manner; for which

reason it is as much entertaining to popular capacities as to men of

genius. Many good Christians have found it to be of great benefit for

establishing their souls in the knowledge and practice of truth, and

of the good old way; and since many weeds grow up from time to time in

the Church, this book handed down to posterity, will be a standing

test of sound doctrines, which our forefathers believed, and of such

wise principles on which they acted at, and after the Reformation.” On

the other hand the book afforded as much gratification to the enemies

of Luther, as to his admirers. Bayle after noticing some of the

monstrous calumnies with which the Papists assailed his memory,

proceeds to say, _La plûpart de ces medisances sont fondées sur

quelques paroles d'un certain livre publié par les amis de Luther,

ausquelles on donne un sens tres-malin, et fort éloigné de la pensée

de ce Ministre. Ce n'est pas qu'il ne faille convenir qu'il y eut une

très-grande imprudence à publier une telle compilation. Ce fut l'effet

d'un zêle inconsideré, ou plútôt d'une preoccupation excessive, qui

empêchoit de conoître les defauts de ce grand homme._ In like manner

Seckendorf, whom Bayle quotes, says it was compiled with little

prudence, and incautiously published, but upon its authenticity (as

far as any such collection can be deemed authentic) he casts no

suspicion.

Something worse than want of prudence may be suspected in those who

set forth the English translation. The translator introduced it by “a

Narrative of the miraculous preserving” of the book, and “how by God's

Providence it was discovered lying under the ground where it had lain

hid fifty-two years:” “I, Capt. Henry Bell,” he says, “do hereby

declare both to the present age and also to posterity, that being

employed beyond the seas in state affairs divers years together, both

by King James, and also by the late King Charles, in Germany I did

hear and understand in all places, great bewailing and lamentation

made, by reason of the destroying or burning of above fourscore

thousand of Martin Luther's books, entituled his last Divine

Discourses. For after such time as God stirred up the spirit of Martin

Luther to detect the corruptions and abuses of Popery, and to preach

Christ, and clearly to set forth the simplicity of the Gospel, many

Kings, Princes and States, Imperial Cities, and Hanse-Towns, fell from

the Popish Religion, and became Protestants as their posterities still

are, and remain to this very day. And for the further advancement of

the great work of Reformation then begun, the foresaid Princes and the

rest did then order, that the said Divine Discourse of Luther should

forthwith be printed, and that every Parish should have and receive

one of the foresaid printed Books into every Church throughout all

their principalities and dominions, to be chained up, for the common

people to read therein. Upon which the Reformation was wonderfully

promoted and increased, and spread both here in England and other

countries beside. But afterwards it so fell out, that the Pope then

living, viz. Gregory XIII. understanding what great hurt and prejudice

he and his popish religion had already received by reason of the said

Luther's Divine Discourses; and also fearing that the same might bring

farther contempt and mischief upon himself, and upon the popish

Church, he therefore to prevent the same, did fiercely stir up and

instigate the Emperor then in being, viz. Rudolphus II. to make an

edict through the whole empire, that all the foresaid printed books

should be burnt, and also that it should be _Death_ for any person to

have or keep a copy thereof, but also to burn the same: which edict

was speedily put in execution accordingly, in so much that not one of

all the said printed books, not so much as any one copy of the same

could be found out, nor heard of in any place.”

Upon this it is to be observed that in the popish states of Germany

such an edict was not required, and that in the Protestant ones it

could not be enforced. There is therefore as little foundation for the

statement, as for the assertion introduced in it that the Reformation

was promoted in England by the publication of this book in German. The

Book appears not to have been common, for Bayle had never seen it; but

this was because few editions were printed, not because many copies

were destroyed. The reader however will judge by what follows of the

degree of credit which may be given to any statement of Capt. Henry

Bell's.

“Yet it pleased God,” the veracious Captain proceeds, “that anno 1626

a German Gentleman, named Casparus Van Sparr, (with whom, in the time

of my staying in Germany about King James's business, I became very

familiarly known and acquainted,) having occasion to build upon the

old foundation of an house wherein his grandfather dwelt at that time

when the said edict was published in Germany for the burning of the

foresaid Books, and digging deep into the ground under the said old

foundation, one of the said original printed books was there happily

found, lying in a deep obscure hole, being wrapt in a strong linen

cloth, which was waxed all over with bees-wax both within and without,

whereby the book was preserved fair without any blemish. And at the

same time Ferdinandus II. being Emperor in Germany, who was a severe

enemy and persecutor of the Protestant religion, the foresaid

Gentleman and grandchild to him that had hidden the said Book in that

obscure hole, fearing that if the said Emperor should get knowledge

that one of the said Books was yet forthcoming and in his custody,

thereby not only himself might be brought into trouble, but also the

Book in danger to be destroyed, as all the rest were so long before;

and also calling me to mind, and knowing that I had the High Dutch

tongue very perfect, did send the said original Book over hither into

England, unto me; and therewith did write unto me a letter, wherein he

related the passages of the preserving and finding out of the said

Book. And also he earnestly moved me in his letter, that for the

advancement of God's glory, and of Christ's Church, I would take the

pains to translate the said Book, to the end that that most excellent

Divine Work of Luther might be brought again to light!

“Whereupon I took the said Book before me, and many times began to

translate the same, but always I was hindered therein, being called

upon about other business; insomuch that by no possible means I could

remain by that work. Then about six weeks after I had received the

said Book, it fell out, that I being in bed with my Wife, one night

between twelve and one of the clock, she being asleep but myself yet

awake, there appeared unto me an Antient Man, standing at my bed-side,

arrayed all in white, having a long and broad white beard, hanging

down to his girdle-stead; who, taking me by my right ear, spake these

words following unto me. _Sirrah! Will not you take time to translate

that Book which is sent unto you out of Germany? I will shortly

provide for you both place and time to do it!_ And then he vanished

away out of my sight. Whereupon being much thereby affrighted, I fell

into an extreme sweat, insomuch that my Wife awaking, and finding me

all over wet, she asked me what I ailed, I told her what I had seen

and heard; but I never did heed nor regard visions, nor dreams. And so

the same fell soon out of my mind.

“Then, about a fortnight after I had seen that Vision, I went to

Whitehall to hear the Sermon; after which ended, I returned to my

lodging, which was then in King Street at Westminster, and sitting

down to dinner with my Wife, two Messengers were sent from the whole

Council-Board, with a warrant to carry me to the Keeper of the Gate

House, Westminster, there to be safely kept, until further order from

the Lords of the Council; which was done without showing me any cause

at all wherefore I was committed. Upon which said warrant I was kept

there ten whole years close prisoner; where I spent five years thereof

about the translating of the said Book: insomuch as I found the words

very true which the old man in the foresaid Vision did say unto me,

‘_I will shortly provide for you both place and time to translate

it._’”

CHAPTER CCXXXII.

THE DOCTOR'S FAMILY FEELING.

It behoves the high

For their own sakes to do things worthily.

BEN JONSON.

No son ever regarded the memory of his father with more reverential

affection than this last of the Doves. There never lived a man, he

said, to whom the lines of Marcus Antonius Flaminius, (the sweetest of

all Latin poets in modern times, or perhaps of any age,) could more

truly be applied.

_Vixisti, genitor, bene, ac beate,

Nec pauper, neque dives; eruditus

Satis, et satis eloquens; valente

Semper corpore, mente sanâ; amicis

Jucundus, pietate singulari._

“What if he could not with the Hevenninghams of Suffolk count five and

twenty knights of his family, or tell sixteen knights successively

with the Tilneys of Norfolk, or with the Nauntons shew where his

ancestors had seven hundred pounds a year before the conquest,”[1] he

was, and with as much, or perhaps more reason, contented with his

parentage. Indeed his family feeling was so strong, that, if he had

been of an illustrious race, pride, he acknowledged, was the sin which

would most easily have beset him; though on the other hand, to correct

this tendency, he thought there could be no such persuasive preachers

as old family portraits, and old monuments in the family church.

[Footnote 1: FULLER.]

He was far however from thinking that those who are born to all the

advantages, as they are commonly esteemed, of rank and fortune, are

better placed for the improvement of their moral and intellectual

nature, than those in a lower grade. “_Fortunatos nimium sua si bona

nôrint_,” he used to say of this class, but this is a knowledge that

they seldom possess; and it is rare indeed to find an instance in

which the high privileges which hereditary wealth conveys are

understood by the possessors, and rightly appreciated and put to their

proper use. The one, and the two talents are

Oh! bright occasions of dispensing good,

How seldom used, how little understood![2]

in general more profitably occupied than the five; the five indeed are

not often tied up in a napkin, but still less often are they

faithfully employed in the service of that Lord from whom they are

received in trust, and to whom an account of them must be rendered.

[Footnote 2: COWPER.]

“A man of family and estate,” said Johnson, “ought to consider himself

as having the charge of a district over which he is to diffuse

civility and happiness.”—Are there fifty men of family and estate in

the Three Kingdoms who feel and act as if this were their duty?—Are

there five and forty?—Forty?—Thirty?—Twenty?—Or can it be said with

any probability of belief that “peradventure Ten shall be found

there?”

—_in sangue illustre e signorile,

In uom d'alti parenti al mondo nato,

La viltà si raddoppia, e più si scorge

Che in coloro il cui grado alto non sorge._[3]

[Footnote 3: TASSO RINALDO.]

Here in England stood a village, within the memory of man,—no matter

where,—close by the Castle of a noble proprietor,—no matter who:

_il figlio

Del tale, ed il nipote del cotale,

Natò per madre della tale._[4]

It contained about threescore houses, and every cottager had ground

enough for keeping one or two cows. The noble proprietor looked upon

these humble tenements as an eye-sore; and one by one as opportunity

offered, he purchased them, till at length he became owner of the

whole, one field excepted, which belonged to an old Quaker. The old

man resisted many offers, but at last he was induced to exchange it

for a larger and better piece of land in another place. No sooner had

this transaction been completed, than the other occupants who were now

only tenants at will, received notice to quit; the houses were

demolished, the inclosures levelled, hearthsteads and homesteads, the

cottage garden and the cottage field disappeared, and the site was in

part planted, in part thrown into the park. The Quaker, who unlike

Naboth, had parted with the inheritance of his fathers was a native of

the village; but he knew not how dearly he was attached to it, till he

saw its demolition: it was his fault, he said; and if he had not

exchanged his piece of ground, he should never have lived to see his

native place destroyed. He took it deeply to heart; it preyed upon his

mind, and he soon lost his senses and died.

[Footnote 4: CHIABRERA.]

I tell the story as it was related, within sight of the spot, by a

husbandman who knew the place and the circumstances, and well

remembered that many people used to come every morning from the

adjacent parts to buy milk there,—“a quart of new milk for a

half-penny, and a quart of old, given with it.”

Naboth has been named in relating this, but the reader will not

suppose that I have any intention of comparing the great proprietor to

Ahab,—or to William the Conqueror. There was nothing unjust in his

proceedings, nothing iniquitous; and (though there may have been a

great want of proper feeling) nothing cruel. I am not aware that any

hardship was inflicted upon the families who were ejected, farther

than the inconvenience of a removal. He acted as most persons in the

same circumstances probably would have acted, and no doubt he thought

that his magnificent habitation was greatly improved by the demolition

of the poor dwellings which had neighboured it so closely. Farther it

may be said in his justification (for which I would leave nothing

unsaid) that very possibly the houses had not sufficient appearance of

neatness and comfort to render them agreeable objects, that the people

may have been in no better state of manners and morals than villagers

commonly are, which is saying that they were bad enough; that the

filth of their houses was thrown into the road, and that their pigs,

and their children who were almost as unclean, ran loose there. Add to

this if you please that though they stood in fear of their great

neighbour, there may have been no attachment to him, and little

feeling of good will. But I will tell you how Dr. Dove would have

proceeded if he had been the hereditary Lord of that Castle and that

domain.

He would have considered that this village was originally placed there

for the sake of the security which the Castle afforded. Times had

changed and with them the relative duties of the Peer and of the

Peasantry: he no longer required their feudal services, and they no

longer stood in need of his protection. The more therefore, according

to his “way of thinking,” was it to be desired, that other relations

should be strengthened and the bonds of mutual goodwill be more

closely intertwined. He would have looked upon these villagers as

neighbours, in whose welfare and good conduct he was especially

interested, and over whom it was in his power to exercise a most

salutary and beneficial influence; and having this power he would have

known, that it was his duty so to use it. He would have established a

school in the village, and have allowed no ale-house there. He would

have taken his domestics preferably from thence. If there were a boy

who by his gentle disposition, his diligence and his aptitude for

learning gave promise of those qualities which best become the

clerical profession, he would have sent that boy to a grammar school,

and afterwards to college, supporting him there in part, or wholly,

according to the parents' means, and placing him on his list for

preferment, according to his deserts.

If there were any others who discovered a remarkable fitness for any

other useful calling, in that calling he would have had them

instructed and given them his countenance and support, as long as they

continued to deserve it. The Archbishop of Braga, Fray Bartolomen dos

Martyres, added to his establishment a Physician for the poor. Our

friend would in like manner have fixed a medical practitioner in the

village,—one as like as he could find to a certain Doctor at

Doncaster; and have allowed him such a fixed stipend, as might have

made him reasonably contented and independent of the little emolument

which the practice of the place could afford, for he would not have

wished his services to be gratuitous where there was no need. If the

parish to which the village belonged was too extensive, or the

parochial Minister unwilling, or unable to look carefully after this

part of his flock, his Domestic Chaplain, (for he would not have lived

without one) should have taken care of their religious instruction.

In his own family and in his own person he would have set his

neighbours an example of “whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever

things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are

lovely, whatsoever things are of good report.” And as this example

produced its sure effects, he would have left the Amateurs of

Agriculture to vie with each other in their breeds of sheep and oxen,

and in the costly cultivation of their farms. It would have been, not

his boast, for he boasted of nothing;—not his pride, for he had none

of

that poor vice which only empty men

Esteem a virtue—[5]

it was out of the root of Christian humility that all his virtues

grew,—but his consolation and his delight to know that nowhere in

Great Britain was there a neater, a more comfortable village than

close to his own mansion; no where a more orderly, a more moral, a

more cheerful, or a happier people. And if his castle had stood upon

an elevation commanding as rich a survey as Belvoir or Shobden, that

village when he looked from his windows, would still have been the

most delightful object in the prospect.

[Footnote 5: BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.]

I have not mentioned the name of the old Quaker in my story; but I

will preserve it in these pages because the story is to his honour. It

was Joshua Dickson. If Quakers have (and certainly they have) the

quality which is called modest assurance in a superlative degree that

distinguishes them from any other class of men, (it is of the _men_

only that I speak) they are the only sect, who as a sect, cultivate

the sense of conscience. This was not a case of conscience, but of

strong feeling assuming that character under a tendency to madness.

When Lord Harcourt about the same time removed the village of Nuneham,

an old widow Barbara Wyat by name, earnestly intreated that she might

be allowed to remain in her old habitation. The request which it would

have been most unfeeling to refuse, was granted; she ended her days

there, and then the cottage was pulled down: but a tree which grew

beside it, and which she had planted in her youth, is still shown on

the terrace at Nuneham, and called by her name. Near it is placed the

following Inscription by that amiable man the Laureate Whitehead. Like

all his serious poems it may be read with pleasure and profit,—though

the affecting circumstance which gives the anecdote its highest

interest is related only in a note.

This Tree was planted by a female hand,

In the gay dawn of rustic beauty's glow;

And fast beside it did her cottage stand,

When age had clothed the matron's head with snow.

To her long used to nature's simple ways,

This single spot was happiness compleat;

Her tree could shield her from the noontide blaze

And from the tempest screen her little seat.

Here with her Colin oft the faithful maid,

Had led the dance, the envious youths among,

Here when his aged bones in earth were laid,

The patient matron turned her wheel and sung.

She felt her loss, yet felt it as she ought,

Nor dared 'gainst Nature's general law exclaim,

But checkt her tears and to her children taught

That well known truth their lot would be the same.

The Thames before her flowed, his farther shores

She ne'er explored, contented with her own;

And distant Oxford, tho' she saw its towers,

To her ambition was a world unknown.

Did dreadful tales the clowns from market bear

Of kings and tumults and the courtier train,

She coldly listened with unheeding ear,

And good Queen Anne, for aught she cared, might reign.

The sun her day, the seasons marked her year,

She toiled, she slept, from care, from envy free;

For what had she to hope, or what to fear,

Blest with her cottage, and her favourite Tree.

Hear this ye Great, whose proud possessions spread

O'er earth's rich surface to no space confined!

Ye learn'd in arts, in men, in manners read,

Who boast as wide an empire o'er the mind,

With reverence visit her august domain;

To her unlettered memory bow the knee;

She found that happiness you seek in vain,

Blest with a cottage, and a single Tree.[6]

[Footnote 6: The Classical reader will be aware that the Author of

these lines had Claudian's “Old Man of Verona” in his mind's eye, as

Claudian had Virgil's “Corycian Old Man.”—Georg. iv. 127.]

Mason would have produced a better inscription upon this subject, in

the same strain; Southey in a different one, Crabbe would have treated

it with more strength, Bowles with a finer feeling, so would his

kinswoman and namesake Caroline, than whom no author or authoress has

ever written more touchingly, either in prose or verse. Wordsworth

would have made a picture from it worthy of a place in the great

Gallery of his Recluse. But Whitehead's is a remarkable poem,

considering that it was produced during what has been not unjustly

called the neap tide of English poetry: and the reader who should be

less pleased with it than offended by its faults, may have cause to

suspect that his refinement has injured his feelings in a greater

degree than it has improved his taste.

CHAPTER CCXXXIII.

THE PETTY GERMAN PRINCES EXCELLENT PATRONS OF LITERATURE AND LEARNED

MEN.—THE DUKE OF SAXE WEIMAR.—QUOTATION FROM BP. HACKET.—AN OPINION OF

THE EXCELLENT MR. BOYLE.—A TENET OF THE DEAN OF CHALON, PIERRE DE ST.

JULIEN,—AND A VERITABLE PLANTAGENET.

_Ita nati estis, ut bona malaque vestra ad Rempublicam pertineant._

TACITUS.

“We have long been accustomed to laugh at the pride and poverty of

petty German Princes,” says one of the most sensible and right minded

travellers that ever published the result of his observations in

Germany;[1] “but nothing,” he proceeds, “can give a higher idea of the

respectability which so small a people may assume, and the quantity of

happiness which one of these insignificant monarchs may diffuse around

him, than the example of the little state of Weimar, with a Prince

like the present[2] Grand Duke at its head. The mere pride of

sovereignty frequently most prominent where there is only the title to

justify it, is unknown to him; he is the most affable man in his

dominions, not simply with the condescension which any prince can

learn to practise as a useful quality, but from goodness of heart.”

The whole population of his state little if at all exceeds that of

Leicestershire; his capital is smaller than a third or fourth rate

county town; so in fact it scarcely deserves the name of a town; and

the inhabitants, vain as they are of its well earned reputation as the

German Athens, take a pride in having it considered merely a large

village: his revenue is less than that of many a British Peer, great

Commoner, or commercial Millionist. Yet “while the treasures of more

weighty potentates were insufficient to meet the necessities of their

political relations, his confined revenues could give independence and

careless leisure to the men who were gaining for Germany its

intellectual reputation.” It is not too much to say that for that

intellectual reputation, high as it is, and lasting as it will be,

Germany is little less beholden to the Duke of Weimar's well-bestowed

patronage, than to the genius of Wieland, and Schiller and Goëthe. “In

these little principalities, the same goodness of disposition can work

with more proportional effect than if it swayed the sceptre of an

empire; it comes more easily and directly into contact with those

towards whom it should be directed: the artificial world of courtly

rank and wealth has neither sufficient glare nor body to shut out from

the prince the more chequered world that lies below.”

[Footnote 1: RUSSELL.]

[Footnote 2: A. D. 1822.]

Alas no Prince either petty or great has followed the Duke of Saxe

Weimar's example! “He dwells,” says Mr. Downes, “like an estated

gentleman, surrounded by his tenantry.” Alas no British Peer, great

Commoner, or commercial Millionist has given to any portion of his

ampler revenues a like beneficent direction.

A good old Bishop[3] quoting the text “not many wise men after the

flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called,” cautions us

against distorting the Scripture as if it pronounced nothing but

confusion to the rulers of the earth, “let not the honourable person,”

said he, “hang down his head, as if power and wisdom, and noble blood,

and dignity were causes of rejection before God: no beloved! Isaiah

foretold that Kings should be nursing fathers, and Queens should be

nursing mothers of the Church, but it is often seen that the benignity

of nature and the liberality of fortune are made impediments to a

better life; and therefore Nobles and Princes are more frequently

threatened with judgment. I adjoin moreover that the Scriptures speak

more flatly against illustrious Magistrates, than the common sort; for

if God had left it to men, whose tongues are prostituted to flattery,

they had scarce been told that their abominable sins would bring

damnation.”

[Footnote 3: BISHOP HACKET.]

When our philosopher considered the manner in which large incomes are

expended, (one way he had opportunities enough of observing at

Doncaster) he thought that in these times high birth brought with it

dangers and evils which in many or most instances, more than

counterbalanced its advantages.

That excellent person Mr. Boyle had formed a different opinion. To be

the son of a Peer whose prosperity had found many admirers, but few

parallels, and not to be his eldest son, was a happiness that he used

to “mention with great expressions of gratitude; his birth, he said,

so suiting his inclinations and designs, that, had he been permitted

an election, his choice would scarce have altered God's assignment.

For as on the one side, a lower birth would have too much exposed him

to the inconveniences of a mean descent, which are too notorious to

need specifying; so on the other side, to a person whose humour

indisposes him to the distracting hurry of the world, the being born

heir to a great family is but a glittering kind of slavery, whilst

obliging him to a public entangled course of life, to support the

credit of his family, and tying him from satisfying his dearest

inclinations, it often forces him to build the advantages of his house

upon the ruins of his own contentment.”

“A man of mean extraction,” he continues, “is seldom admitted to the

privacy and secrets of great ones promiscuously, and scarce dares

pretend to it, for fear of being censured saucy, or an intruder. And

titular greatness is ever an impediment to the knowledge of many

retired truths, that cannot be attained without familiarity with

meaner persons, and such other condescensions, as fond opinion, in

great men, disapproves and makes disgraceful.” “But he himself,” Mr.

Boyle said, “was born in a condition that neither was high enough to

prove a temptation to laziness, nor low enough to discourage him from

aspiring.” And certainly to a person that affected so much an

universal knowledge, and arbitrary vicissitudes of quiet and

employments, it could not be unwelcome to be of a quality, that was a

handsome stirrup to preferment, without an obligation to court it, and

which might at once both protect his higher pretensions from the guilt

of ambition, and secure his retiredness from contempt.

There would be more and higher advantages in high birth than Mr. Boyle

apprehended, if the Dean of Chalon, Pierre de St. Julien, were right

when he maintained _contre l'opinion des Philosophes, et l'ordinaire

des Predicamants,—que la vraye Noblesse a sa source du sang, et est

substancielle._

_Ces mots Gentilhomme de sang, et d'armes, de race genereuse, de bonne

part,_ &c., says the well-born Dean, who in his title pages let us

know that he was _de la maison de Balleurré,—sont termes non de

qualité, ny d'habitude; ains importants substance de vray, comme il

est bien dit,_

_veniunt cum sanguine mores;_

_et aillieurs,_

_Qui viret in foliis venit à radicibus humor;

Sic patrum in natos abeunt cum semine mores._

_Et comme le sang est le vehicule, et porteur des esprits de vie,

esquels est enclose la substance de l'ame; aussi est il le comme

chariot, qui porte et soustient celle substance qui decoule des peres,

et des ayeulx, par long ordre de generation, et provient aux enfants,

qui, nez de bonne et gentille semence, sont (conformement à l'opinion

du divin Philosophe Platon) rendu tels que leurs progeniteurs, par la

vertu des esprits enclos en la semence.—Tellement qu'on ne peut nyer,

que comme d'une bonne Ayre sortent de bons oyseaux, d'un bon Haras de

bons chevaux,_ &c., _aussi il importe beaucoup aux hommes d'estre nez

de bons et valeureux parents; voire tant, que les mal nez, ennemys de

ceste bien naissance, ne sont suffisants pour en juger._

Sir Robert Cotton once met with a man driving the plough, who was a

true and undoubted Plantagenet. “That worthy Doctor,” (Dr. Hervey)

says that worthy Fuller (_dignissimus_ of being so styled himself,)

“hath made many converts in physic to his seeming paradox, maintaining

the circulation of blood running round about the body of man. Nor is

it less true that gentle blood fetcheth a circuit in the body of a

nation, running from Yeomanry, through Gentry to Nobility, and so

retrograde, returning through Gentry to Yeomanry again.”

“_Plust à Dieu_,” said Maistre François Rabelais, of facetious memory,

“_qu'un chacun saust aussi certainement_—(as Gargantua that is,) _sa

genealogie, depuis l'Arche de Noé, jusqu'à cet âge! Je pense que

plusieurs sont aujourd'hui Empereurs, Roys, Ducs, Princes et Papes en

la terre, lesquels sont descendus de quelques Porteurs de rogatons et

de constrets. Comme au rebours plusieurs sont gueux de l'hostiere,

souffreteux et miserables, lesquels sont descendus de sang et ligne de

grands Roys et Empereurs; attends l'admirable transport des Regnes et

Empires,_

_Des Assyriens, és Medes;

Des Medes, és Perses;

Des Perses, és Macédoniens;

Des Macédoniens, és Grecs;

Des Grecs, és François._

_Et pour vous donner à entendre de moy qui vous parle, je cuide que

suis descendu de quelque riche Roy, ou Prince, au temps jadis; car

oncques ne vistes homme qui eust plus grande affection d'estre Roy ou

riche que moy, afin de faire grand chere, pas ne travailler, point ne

me soucier et bien enrichir mes amis, et tous gens de bien et de

sçavoir._”

CHAPTER CCXXXIV.

OPINION OF A MODERN DIVINE UPON THE WHEREABOUT OF NEWLY DEPARTED

SPIRITS.—ST. JOHN'S BURIAL, ONE RELIC ONLY OF THAT SAINT, AND

WHEREFORE.—A TALE CONCERNING ABRAHAM, ADAM AND EVE.

_Je sçay qu'il y a plusieurs qui diront que je fais beaucoup de petits

fats contes, dont je m'en passerois bien. Ouy, bien pour aucuns,—mais

non pour moy, me contentant de m'en renouveller le souvenance, et en

tirer autant de plaisir._

BRANTÔME.

Watts who came to the odd conclusion in his Philosophical Essay, that

there may be Spirits which must be said, in strict philosophy to be no

where, endeavoured to explain what he called the _ubi_ or _whereness_

of those spirits which are in a more imaginable situation. While man

is alive, the soul he thought might be said to be in his brain,

because the seat of consciousness seems to be there; but as soon as it

is dislodged from that local habitation by death, it finds itself at

once in a heaven or hell of its own, and this “without any removal or

relation to place, or change of distances.” The shell is broken, the

veil is withdrawn; it is where it was, but in a different mode of

existence, in the pure intellectual, or separate world. “It reflects

upon its own temper and actions in this life, it is conscious of its

virtues, or its vices,” and it has an endless spring of peace and joy

within, or is tormented with the anguish of self condemnation.

In his speculations the separation of soul from body is total, till

their re-union at the day of judgment; and this unquestionably is the

christian belief. The fablers of all religions have taken a different

view, because at all times and in all countries they have accommodated

their fictions to the notions of the people. The grave is with them a

place of rest, or of suffering. If Young had been a Jew, a Mahommedan,

or a Roman Catholic, he might be understood as speaking literally when

he says,

How populous, how vital is the grave.

St. Augustine had been assured by what he considered no light

testimony that St. John was not dead, but asleep in his sepulchre, and

that the motion of his breast as he breathed might be perceived by a

gentle movement of the earth. The words of our Lord after his

Resurrection, concerning the beloved disciple, “If I will that he

tarry till I come, what is that to thee,” gave scope to conjecture

concerning the fate of this Evangelist, and yet in some degree set

bounds to that spirit of lying invention which in process of time

annexed as many fables to corrupted Christianity as the Greek and

Roman poets had engrafted upon their heathenism, or the Rabbis upon

the Jewish faith. “Sinner that I am,” said a French prelate with

demure irony, when a head of St. John the Baptist was presented to him

to kiss in some Church of which it was the choicest treasure,—“sinner

that I am, this is the fourth head of the glorious Baptist that I have

had the happiness of holding in these unworthy hands!” But while some

half dozen or half score of these heads were produced, because it was

certain that the Saint had been beheaded, no relic of St. John the

Evangelist's person, nor of the Virgin Mary's, was ever invented. The

story of the Assumption precluded any such invention in the one

case,—and in St. John's the mysterious uncertainty of his fate had the

same effect as this received tradition. The Benedictines of St.

Claude's Monastery in the Jura exhibited his own manuscript of the

Apocalypse,—(the most learned of that order in no unlearned age,

believed or affected to believe that it was his actual autograph,)—and

they considered that it was greatly enhanced in value by its being the

only relic of that Saint in existence.

The fable which St. Augustine seems to have believed, was either

parent or child of the story told under the name of Abdias, that when

the Beloved Disciple had attained the postdiluvian age of ninety

seven, our Lord appeared to him, said unto him, “come unto me, that

thou mayest partake at my feast with thy brethren,” and fixed the next

Sunday, being Easter, for his removal from this world. On that Sunday

accordingly, the Evangelist after having performed service in his own

temple at Ephesus, and exhorted the people, told some of his chosen

disciples to take with them two mattocks and spade, and accompany him

therewith. They went to a place near the city, where he had been

accustomed to pray, there he bade them dig a grave, and when they

would have ceased from the work, he bade them dig it still deeper.

Then taking off all his garments except a linen vestment, he spread

them in the grave, laid himself down upon them, ordered his disciples

to cover him up, and forthwith fell asleep in the Lord. Abdias

proceeds no farther with the story; but other ecclesiastic romancers

add that the evangelist enjoined them to open the grave on the day

following; they did so and found nothing but his garments, for the

blessed virgin in recompence for the filial piety which he had

manifested towards her in obedience to our Lord's injunctions from the

cross, had obtained for him the privilege of an Assumption like her

own. Baronius has no objection to believe this, but that St. John

actually died is, he says more than certain,—_certo certius_; and that

his grave at Ephesus was proof of it, for _certe non nisi mortuorum

solent esse sepulchra_.

Yet the Cardinal knew that the historian of his Church frequently

represented the dead as sentient in their graves. The Jews have some

remarkable legends founded upon the same notion. It is written in the

book of Zohar, say the Rabbis, how when Abraham had made a covenant

with the people of the land, and was about to make a feast for them, a

calf which was to be slaughtered on the occasion, broke loose and ran

into the cave of Machpelah. Abraham followed, and having entered the

cave in pursuit, there he discovered the bodies of Adam and Eve, each

on a bed, with lamps burning between them. They were sleeping the

sleep of death, and there was a good odour around them, like the odour

of repose. In consequence of having made this discovery it was that he

desired to purchase the cave for his own burial place; and when the

sons of Jebus refused to sell it, he fell upon his knees, and bowed

himself before them, till they were entreated. When he came to deposit

the body of Sarah there, Adam and Eve rose up, and refused their

consent. The reason which they gave for this unexpected prohibition

was, that they were already in a state of reproach before the Lord,

because of their transgression, and a farther reproach would be

brought upon them by a comparison with his good deeds, if they allowed

such company to be introduced into their resting place. But Abraham

took upon himself to answer for that; upon this they were satisfied

with his assurances, and composed themselves again to their long

sleep.

The Rabbis may be left to contend for the authority of the book of

Zohar in this particular against the story of the Cabalists that

Adam's bones were taken into the Ark, and divided afterwards by Noah

among his sons. The skull fell to Shem's portion; he burnt it on the

mountain which for that reason obtained the name of Golgotha, or

Calvary,—being interpreted, the place of a skull, and on that spot,

for mystical signification the cross whereon our Saviour suffered was

erected;—a wild legend, on which as wild a fiction has been grafted,

that a branch from the Tree of Life had been planted on Adam's grave,

and from the wood which that branch had produced the cross was made.

And against either of these the authority of Rabbi Judas Bar Simon is

to be opposed, for he affirms that the dust of Adam was washed away by

the Deluge, and utterly dispersed.

The Rabbis have also to establish the credit of their own tradition

against that of the Arabs who at this time shew Eve's grave near

Jeddah;—about three days journey east from that place, according to

Bruce. He says, it is covered with green sods, and about fifty yards

in length. The Cashmerian traveller Abdulkurreem who visited it in

1742, says that it measured an hundred and ninety-seven of his

footsteps, which would make the mother of mankind much taller than

Bruce's measurement. He likens it to a flower-bed; on the middle of

the grave there was then a small dome, and the ends of it were

enclosed with wooden pales. Burckhardt did not visit it; he was told

that it was about two miles only, northward of the town, and that it

was a rude structure of stone, some four feet in length, two or three

in height and as many in breadth, thus resembling the tomb of Noah,

which is shewn in the valley of Bekaa, in Syria. Thus widely do these

modern travellers, on any one of whom reasonable reliance might have

been placed, differ in the account of the same thing.

CHAPTER CCXXXV.

THE SHORTEST AND PLEASANTEST WAY FROM DONCASTER TO JEDDAH, WITH MANY

MORE, TOO LONG.

_Πόνος πόνῳ πόνον φέρει

Πᾶ πᾶ γὰρ οὐκ ἔβαν ἐγώ._

SOPHOCLES.

We have got from the West Riding of Yorkshire, to the Eastern shore of

the Red Sea, without the assistance of mail-coach, steam-packet, or

air-balloon, the magical carpet, the wishing-cap, the shoes of

swiftness, or the seven-leagued boots. From Mr. Bacon's vicarage we

have got to Eve's grave, not _per saltum_, by any sudden, or violent

transition; but by following the stream of thought. We shall get back

in the same easy manner to that vicarage, and to the quiet churchyard

wherein the remains of one of the sweetest and for the few latter

years of her short life, one of the happiest of Eve's daughters, were

deposited in sure and certain hope. If you are in the mood for a

Chapter upon Churchyards, go reader to those which Caroline Bowles has

written;—you will find in them every thing that can touch the heart,

every thing that can sanctify the affections, unalloyed by anything

that can offend a pure taste and a masculine judgement.

But before we find our way back we must tarry awhile among the tombs,

and converse with the fablers of old.

A young and lovely Frenchwoman after visiting the _Columbarium_ near

the Villa Albani, expressed her feeling strongly upon our custom of

interring the dead, as compared with the non-burial of the ancients,

_usage odieux_, said she, _qui rend la mort horrible! Si les anciens

en avaient moins d'effroi, c'est que la coutume de brûler les corps

dérobait au trépas tout ce qu'il a de hideux. Qu'il était consolant et

doux de pouvoir pleurer sur des cendres chéries! Qu'il est

épouvantable et déchirant aujourd'hui de penser que celui qu'on a tant

aimé n'offre plus qu'une image affreuse et décharnée dont on ne

pourrait supporter la vue._

The lady in whose journal these lines were written lies buried in the

Campo Santo at Milan, with the following inscription on her tomb;

_Priez pour une jeune Française que la mort a frappée à vingt ans,

comme elle allait, après un voyage de huit mois avec un epoux chéri,

revoir son enfant, son pere et sa mere, qui venaient joyeux au-devant

d'elle._ Her husband wished to have her remains burnt, in conformity

to her own opinion respecting the disposal of the dead, and to his own

feelings at the time, that he might have carried her ashes to his own

country, and piously have preserved them there, to weep over them, and

bequeath them to his son; _mais les amis qui m'entouraient_, he says,

_combatterent mon desir, comme une inspiration insensée de la

douleur._

There can be no doubt that our ghastly personification of Death has

been derived from the practice of interment; and that of all modes in

which the dead have ever been disposed of, cremation is in some

respects the best. But this mode, were it generally practicable, would

in common use be accompanied with more revolting circumstances than

that which has now become the Christian usage. Some abominations

however it would have prevented, and though in place of those

superstitions which it precluded others would undoubtedly have arisen,

they would have been of a less loathsome character.

The Moors say that the dead are disturbed if their graves be trodden

on by Christian feet; the Rabbis that they feel the worms devouring

them.

On the south side of the city of Erzeroom is a mountain called Eyerli,

from the same likeness which has obtained for one of the English

mountains the unpoetical name of Saddleback. The Turkish traveller

Evlia Effendi saw on the top of this mountain a tomb eighty paces in

length, with two columns marking the place of the head and of the

feet. “I was looking on the tomb,” he says, “when a bad smell occurred

very hurtfully to my nose, and to that of my servant who held the

horses; and looking near, I then saw that the earth of the grave,

which was greasy and black, was boiling, like gruel in a pan. I

returned then, and having related my adventures in the evening in

company with the Pashaw, Djaafer Effendi of Erzeroom, a learned man

and an elegant writer, warned me not to visit the place again, for it

was the grave of Balaam the son of Beor, who died an infidel, under

the curse of Moses, and whose grave was kept always in this state by

subterraneous fires.”

When Wheler was at Constantinople, he noticed a monument in the

fairest and largest street of that city, the cupola of which was

covered with an iron grating. It was the tomb of Mahomet Cupriuli,

father to the then Grand Vizier. He had not been scrupulous as to the

means by which he settled the government during the Grand Seignior's

minority, and carried it on afterwards, quelling the discontents and

factions of the principal Agas, and the mutinies of the Janizaries.

Concerning him after his decease, says this traveller, “being buried

here, and having this stately monument of white marble covered with

lead erected over his body, the Grand Seigneur and Vizier had this

dream both in the same night, to wit, that he came to them and

earnestly begged of them a little water to refresh him, being in a

burning heat. Of this the Grand Seigneur and Vizier told each other in

the morning, and thereupon thought fit to consult the Mufti what to do

concerning it. The Mufti, according to their gross superstition,

advised that the roof of his sepulchre should be uncovered, that the

rain might descend on his body, thereby to quench the flames which

were tormenting his soul. And this remedy the people who smarted under

his oppression think he had great need of, supposing him to be

tormented in the other world for his tyrannies and cruelties committed

by him in this.”

If Cupriuli had been a Russian instead of a Turk, his body would have

been provided with a passport before it was committed to the grave.

Peter Henry Bruce in his curious memoirs gives the form of one which

in the reign of Peter the Great, always before the coffin of a Russian

was closed, was put between the fingers of the corpse:—“We N. N. do

certify by these presents that the bearer hereof hath always lived

among us as became a good Christian, professing the Greek religion;

and although he may have committed some sins, he hath confessed the

same, whereupon he hath received absolution, and taken the communion

for the remission of sins: That he hath honoured God and his Saints,

that he hath not neglected his prayers; and hath fasted on the hours

and days appointed by the Church: That he hath always behaved himself

towards me, his Confessor, in such a manner that I have no reason to

complain of him, or to refuse him the absolution of his sins. In

witness whereof I have given him these testimonials, to the end that

St. Peter upon sight of them, may not deny him the opening of the gate

to eternal bliss!”

The custom evidently implies an opinion that though soul and body were

disunited by death, they kept close company together till after the

burial; otherwise a passport which the Soul was to present at Heaven's

gate, would not have been placed in the hands of the corpse. In the

superstitions of the Romish church a re-union is frequently supposed,

but that there is an immediate separation upon death is an article of

faith, and it is represented by Sir Thomas More as one of the

punishments for a sinful soul to be brought from Purgatory and made to

attend, an unseen spectator, at the funeral of its own body, and feel

the mockery of all the pomps and vanities used upon that occasion. The

passage is in his Supplycacyon of Soulys. One of the Supplicants from

Purgatory speaks:

“Some hath there of us, while we were in health, not so much studied

how we might die penitent, and in good christian plight, as how we

might solemnly be borne out to burying, have gay and goodly funerals,

with heralds at our herses, and offering up our helmets, setting up

our scutcheons and coat-armours on the wall, though there never came

harness on our backs, nor never ancestor of ours ever bare arms

before. Then devised we some Doctor to make a sermon at our mass in

our month's mind, and then preach to our praise with some fond fantasy

devised of our name; and after mass, much feasting, riotous and

costly; and finally, like madmen, made men merry at our death, and

take our burying for a brideale. For special punishment whereof, some

of us have been by our Evil Angels brought forth full heavily, in full

great despight to behold our own burying, and so, stand in great pain,

invisible among the press, and made to look on our carrion corpse,

carried out with great pomp, whereof our Lord knoweth we have taken

heavy pleasure!”

In opposition to this there is a Rabbinical story which shows that

though the Jews did not attribute so much importance to the rights of

sepulture as the ancient Greeks, they nevertheless thought that a

parsimonious interment occasioned some uncomfortable consequences to

the dead.

A pious descendant of Abraham, whom his wife requited with a curtain

lecture for having, as she thought improvidently, given alms to a poor

person in a time of dearth, left his house, and went out to pass the

remainder of the night among the tombs, that he might escape from her

objurgations. There he overheard a conversation between the Spirits of

two young women, not long deceased. The one said, “come let us go

through the world, and then listen behind the curtain and hear what

chastisements are decreed for it.” The other made answer, “I cannot

go, because I have been buried in a mat made of reeds, but go you, and

bring me account of what you hear.” Away went the Ghost whose

grave-clothes were fit to appear in: and when she returned, “well

friend, what have you heard behind the curtain,” said the ghost in the

reed-mat. “I heard,” replied the gad-about, “that whatever shall be

sown in the first rains, will be stricken with hail.” Away went the

alms-giver; and upon this intelligence which was more certain than any

prognostication in the Almanack, he waited till the second rains

before he sowed his field; all other fields were struck with hail, but

according as he had expected his crop escaped.

Next year, on the anniversary of the night which had proved so

fortunate to him, he went again to the Tombs: and overheard another

conversation between the same ghosts to the same purport. The well

drest ghost went through the world, listened behind the curtain, and

brought back information that whatever should be sown in the second

rains would be smitten with rust. Away went the good man, and sowed

his field in the first rains; all other crops were spoilt with the

rust, and only his escaped. His wife then enquired of him how it had

happened that in two successive years he had sown his fields at a

different time from every body else, and on both occasions his were

the only crops that had been saved. He made no secret to her of his

adventures, but told her how he had come to the knowledge which had

proved so beneficial. Ere long his wife happened to quarrel with the

mother of the poor ghost who was obliged to keep her sepulchre; and

the woman of unruly tongue, among other insults, bade her go and look

at her daughter, whom she had buried in a reed-mat! Another

anniversary came round, and the good man went again to the Tomb; but

he went this time in vain, for when the well-dressed Ghost repeated

her invitation, the other made answer, “let me alone, my friend, the

words which have past between you and me have been heard among the

living.”

The learned Cistercian[1] to whom I owe this legend, expresses his

contempt for it; nevertheless he infers from it that the spirits of

the dead know what passes in this world; and that the doctrine of the

Romish Church upon that point, is proved by this tradition to have

been that of the Synagogue also.

[Footnote 1: BERTOLACCI.]

The Mahommedans who adopted so many of the Rabbinical fables,

dispensed in one case for reasons of obvious convenience, with all

ceremonies of sepulchral costume. For the funeral of their martyrs, by

which appellation all Musselmen who fell in battle against the

unbelievers were honoured, none of those preparations were required,

which were necessary for those who die a natural death. A martyr needs

not to be washed after his death, nor to be enveloped in

grave-clothes; his own blood with which he is besmeared serves him for

all legal purification, and he may be wrapt in his robe, and buried

immediately after the funeral prayer, conformably to the order of the

Prophet, who has said, “bury them as they are, in their garments, and

in their blood! Wash them not, for their wounds will smell of musk on

the Day of Judgement.”

A man of Medina, taking leave of his wife as he was about to go to the

wars commended to the Lord her unborn babe. She died presently

afterwards, and every night there appeared a brilliant light upon the

middle of her tomb. The husband hearing of this upon his return,

hastened to the place; the sepulchre opened of itself; the wife sate

up in her winding sheet, and holding out to him a boy in her arms,

said to him take “that which thou commendedst to the Lord. Hadst thou

commended us both, thou shouldest have found us both alive.” So saying

she delivered to him the living infant, and laid herself down, and the

sepulchre closed over her.

* * * * *

PARS IMPERFECTA MANEBAT.—VIRG. ÆN.

_The following materials, printed verbatim from the MS. Collection,

were to have completed the Chapter. It has been thought advisable in

the present instance to shew how the lamented Southey worked up the

collection of years. Each extract is on a separate slip of paper, and

some of them appear to have been made from thirty to forty years ago,

more or less._

* * * * *

And so the virtue of his youth before

Was in his age the ground of his delight.

JAMES I.

* * * * *

_Ἔνθεν δὲ Σθενέλον τάφον ἔδρακον Ἀκτορίδαο·

Ὅς ῥά τ Ἀμαζονίδων πολυθαρσέος ἐκ πολέμοιο

Ἄψ ἀνιὼν (δὴ γὰρ συνανήλυθεν Ἡρὰκλῆΐ)

Βλήμενος ἰῷ κεῖθεν ᾽επ᾽ ἀγχιάλον θάνεν ἀκτῆς.

Ὀυ μέν θην προτέρω ἀνεμέρεον· ἧκε γὰρ αὐτὴ

Φερσεφόνη ψυχὴν πολυδάκρυον Ἀκτορίδαο

Λισσομένην, τυτθόν περ ὁμήθεας ἄνδρας ἰδέσθαι.

Τύμβου δὲ στεφάνης ἐπιβὰς σκοπιάζετο νῆα,

Τοῖος ἐὼν οἷος πόλεμονδ᾽ ἴεν· ἀμφὶ δὲ καλὴ

Τετράφαλος φοίνικι λόφῳ ἐπελάμπετο πήληξ,

Καὶ ῥ᾽ ὁ μὲν αὖτις ἔδυνε μέγαν ζόφον· οἱ δ᾽ ἐσιδόντες

Θάμβησαν. τοὶς δ᾽ ὦρσε θεοπροπέων ἐπικελσαι

Αμπυκίδης Μόψος, λοιβῆσί τε μειλίξασθαι.

Ὃι δ᾽ ἀνὰ μὲν κραιπνῶς λαῖφος σπάσαν, ἐκ δὲ βαλόντες

Πείσματ᾽ ἐν αἰγιαλῷ Σθενέλου τάφον ἀμφεπένοντο,

Χύτλα τέ οἱχεύαντο, καὶ ἥγνισαν ἔντομα μήλων._

APOLLONIUS RHODIUS.

* * * * *

The Abaza (a Circassian tribe) have a strange way of burying their

Beys. They put the body in a coffin of wood, which they nail on the

branches of some high trees and made a hole in the coffin by the head,

that the Bey as they say, may look unto Heaven. Bees enter the coffin,

and make honey, and cover the body with their comb: If the season

comes they open the coffin, take out the honey and sell it, therefore

much caution is necessary against the honey of the Abazas.

EVLIA EFFENDI.

* * * * *

Once in their life time, the Jews say, they are bound by the Law of

Moses to go to the Holy Land, if they can, or be able, and the bones

of many dead Jews are carried there, and there burnt. We were

fraughted with wools from Constantinople to Sidon, in which sacks, as

most certainly was told to me, were many Jew's bones put into little

chests, but unknown to any of the ship. The Jews our Merchants told me

of them at my return from Jerusalem to Saphet, but earnestly intreated

me not to tell it, for fear of preventing them another time.

Going on, one of my companions said, if you will take the trouble of

going a little out of the way, you will see a most remarkable thing.

Well, said I, what should be the object of all pains taken in

travelling, if it were not to admire the works of God. So we went on

for an hour to the north, but not taking the great road leading to the

Plain of Moosh, we advanced to a high rock that is a quarter of an

hour out of the road. To this rock, high like a tower, a man was

formerly chained, whose bones are yet preserved in the chains. Both

bones and chains are in a high state of preservation. The bones of the

arms are from seven to eight cubits in length, of an astonishing

thickness. The skull is like the cupola of a bath, and a man may creep

in and out without pain through the eye-holes. Eagles nestle in them.

These bones are said to be those of a faithful man who in Abraham's

time was chained by Nimrod to this rock, in order to be burnt by fire.

The fire calcined part of his body, so that it melted in one part with

the rock; but the arms and legs are stretching forth to the example of

posterity. We have no doubt that they will rise again into life at the

sound of the trumpet on the day of judgement.

EVLIA EFFENDI.

* * * * *

The Magistrates of Leghorn have authority to issue out orders for

killing dogs if they abound too much in the streets, and molest the

inhabitants. The men entrusted with the execution of these orders go

through the city in the night, and drop small bits of poisoned bread

in the streets. These are eaten by the dogs and instantaneously kill

them. Before sunrise the same men go through the streets with a cart,

gather hundreds of the dead dogs, and carry them to the Jew's burying

ground without the town.

HASSELQUIST.

* * * * *

In the ROMANCE OF MERLIN it is said that before the time of Christ,

Adam and Eve and the whole ancient world were (not in Limbo) but

actually in Hell. And that when the Prophets comforted the souls under

their sufferings by telling them of the appointed Redeemer, the Devils

for that reason tormented these Prophets more than others. The Devils

themselves tell the story, _et les tourmentions plus que les autres.

Et ilz faisoyent semblant que nostre tourment ne les grevoit riens;

ainçois comfortoyent les aultres pecheurs et disoyent. Le Saulveur de

tout le monde viendra qui tous nous delivrera._

* * * * *

At the time of the deluge the wife of Noah being pregnant, was through

the hardships of the voyage delivered of a dead child to which the

name of Tarh was given, because the letters of this word form the

number 217 which was the number of days he was carried by his mother

instead of the full time of 280 days, or nine months. This child was

buried in the district now called Djezere Ibn Omar, the Island or

Peninsula of the son of Omar, and this was the first burial on earth

after the deluge. And Noah prayed unto the Lord, saying, Oh God thou

hast given me a thousand years of life, and this child is dead before

it began to live on earth! And he begged of the Lord as a blessing

given to the burial-place of his child, that the women of this town

might never miscarry, which was granted; so that since that time

women, and female animals of every kind in this town are all blessed

with births in due time and long living. The length of the grave of

this untimely child of Noah is 40 feet and it is visited by pilgrims.

EVLIA EFFENDI.

* * * * *

They suppose that a few souls are peculiarly gifted with the power of

quitting their bodies, of mounting into the skies, visiting distant

countries, and again returning and resuming them; they call the

mystery or prayer by which this power is obtained, the _Mandiram_.

CRAUFURD.

* * * * *

The plain of Kerbela is all desert, inhabited by none but by the dead,

and by roving wild hounds, the race of the dogs which licked the blood

of the martyrs, and which since are doomed to wander through the

wilderness.

EVLIA EFFENDI.

* * * * *

Shi whang, the K. of Tsin becoming Emperor, he chose for his sepulchre

the mountain Li, whose foundation he caused to dig, if we may so

speak, even to the centre of the earth. On its surface he erected a

mausoleum which might pass for a mountain. It was five hundred feet

high, and at least half a league in circumference. On the outside was

a vast tomb of stone, where one might walk as easily as in the largest

hall. In the middle was a sumptuous coffin, and all around there were

lamps and flambeaux, whose flames were fed by human fat. Within this

tomb, there was upon one side a pond of quicksilver, upon which were

scattered birds of gold and silver; on the other a compleat magazine

of moveables and arms; here and there were the most precious jewels in

thousands.

DU HALDE.

* * * * *

Emududakel, the Messenger of Death, receives the Soul as 'tis breathed

out of the body into a kind of a sack, and runs away with it through

briars and thorns and burning whirlwinds, which torment the Soul very

sensibly, till he arrives at the bank of a fiery current, through

which he is to pass to the other side in order to deliver the soul to

Emen, the God of the Dead.

LETTERS TO THE DANISH MISSIONARIES.

* * * * *

A curious story concerning the power which the Soul has been supposed

to possess of leaving the body, in a visible form, may be found in the

notes to the Vision of the Maid of Orleans. A more extraordinary one

occurs in the singularly curious work of Evlia Effendi.

“Sultan Bajazet II. was a saint-monarch, like Sultan Orkhaun, or

Sultan Mustapha I. There exist different works relating his miracles

and deeds, but they are rare. The last seven years of his life he ate

nothing which had blood and life. One day longing much to eat calf's

or mutton's feet, he struggled long in that glorious contest with the

Soul, and as at last a well-seasoned dish of feet was put before him,

he said unto his Soul, ‘See my Soul, the feet are before thee, if thou

wantest to enjoy them, leave the body and feed on them.’ In the same

moment a living creature was seen to come out of his mouth, which

drank of the juice in the dish and having satisfied its appetite

endeavoured to return into the mouth from whence it came. But Bajazet

having prevented it with his hand to re-enter his mouth, it fell on

the ground, and the Sultan ordered it to be beaten. The Pages arrived

and kicked it dead on the ground. The Mufti of that time decided that

as the Soul was an essential part of man, this dead Soul should be

buried: prayers were performed over it, and the dead Soul was interred

in a small tomb near Bajazet's tomb. This is the truth of the famous

story of Bajazet II. having died twice and having been twice buried.

After this murder of his own soul, the Sultan remained melancholy in

the corner of retirement, taking no part or interest in the affairs of

government.”

The same anecdote of the Soul coming out of the mouth to relish a most

desired dish, had already happened to the Sheik Bajazet Bostaumi, who

had much longed to eat _Mohallebi_ (a milk-dish) but Bajazet Bostaumi

permitted it to re-enter, and Sultan Bajazet killed it;

notwithstanding which he continued to live for some time longer.

See _Josselyn_ for a similar tale.

* * * * *

When Mohammed took his journey upon Alborach, Gabriel (said he) led me

to the first Heaven, and the Angels in that Heaven graciously received

me, and they beheld me with smiles and with joy, beseeching for me

things prosperous and pleasant. One alone among the Angels there sat,

who neither prayed for my prosperity, nor smiled; and Gabriel when I

enquired of him who he was, replied, never hath that Angel smiled, nor

will smile, he is the Keeper of the Fire, and I said to him is this

the Angel who is called the well beloved of God? and he replied, this

is that Angel. Then said I bid him that he show me the Fire, and

Gabriel requesting him, he removed the cover of the vessel of Fire,

and the Fire ascending I feared lest all things whatever that I saw

should be consumed, and I besought Gabriel that the Fire again might

be covered. And so the fire returned to its place, and it seemed then

as when the Sun sinks in the West, and the gloomy Angel, remaining the

same, covered up the Fire.

RODERICI XIMENES, ARC. TOL. HIST. ARAB.

* * * * *

Should a Moslem when praying, feel himself disposed to gape, he is

ordered to suppress the sensation as the work of the Devil, and to

close his mouth, lest the father of iniquity should enter and take

possession of his person. It is curious that this opinion prevails

also among the Hindoos who twirl their fingers close before their

mouths when gaping, to prevent an evil spirit from getting in that

way.

GRIFFITHS.

* * * * *

In what part soever of the world they die and are buried, their bodies

must all rise to judgement in the Holy Land, out of the valley of

Jehosophat, which causeth that the greater and richer sort of them,

have their bones conveyed to some part thereof by their kindred or

friends. By which means they are freed of a labour to scrape thither

through the ground, which with their nails they hold they must, who

are not there buried, nor conveyed thither by others.

SANDERSON. PURCHAS.

* * * * *

The Russians in effecting a practicable road to China, discovered in

lat. 50 N., between the rivers Irtish and Obalet, a desert of very

considerable extent, overspread in many parts with Tumuli, or Barrows,

which have been also taken notice of by Mr. Bell and other writers.

This desert constitutes the southern boundary of Siberia. It is said

the borderers on the desert, have for many years, continued to dig for

the treasure deposited in these tumuli, which still however remain

unexhausted. We are told that they find considerable quantities of

gold, silver and brass, and some precious stones, among ashes and

remains of dead bodies: also hilts of swords, armour, ornaments for

saddles and bridles, and other trappings, with the bones of those

animals to which the trappings belonged, among which are the bones of

elephants. The Russian Court, says Mr. Demidoff, being informed of

these depredations, sent a principal officer, with sufficient troops,

to open such of these tumuli, as were too large for the marauding

parties to undertake and to secure their contents. This Officer on

taking a survey of the numberless monuments of the dead spread over

this great desert, concluded that the barrow of the largest dimensions

most probably contained the remains of the prince or chief; and he was

not mistaken; for, after removing a very deep covering of earth and

stones, the workmen came to three vaults, constructed of stones, of

rude workmanship; a view of which is exhibited in the engraving. That

wherein the prince was deposited, which was in the centre, and the

largest of the three, was easily distinguished by the sword, spear,

bow, quiver and arrow which lay beside him. In the vault beyond him,

towards which his feet lay, were his horse, bridle, saddle and

stirrups. The body of the prince lay in a reclining posture, on a

sheet of pure gold, extending from head to foot, and another sheet of

gold, of the like dimensions, was spread over him. He was wrapt in a

rich mantle, bordered with gold and studded with rubies and emeralds.

His head, neck, breast and arms naked, and without any ornament. In

the lesser vault lay the princess, distinguished by her female

ornaments. She was placed reclining against the wall, with a gold

chain of many links, set with rubies, round her neck, and gold

bracelets round her arms. The head, breast and arms were naked. The

body was covered with a rich robe, but without any border of gold or

jewels, and was laid on a sheet of fine gold, and covered over with

another. The four sheets of gold weighed 40 lb. The robes of both

looked fair and complete; but on touching, crumbled into dust. Many

more of the tumuli were opened, but this was the most remarkable. In

the others a great variety of curious articles were found.

MONTHLY REVIEW, Vol. 49.

* * * * *

The following story I had from Mr. _Pierson_, factor here for the

_African_ company, who was sent here from _Cape Coree_ to be second to

Mr. _Smith_ then chief factor. Soon after his arrival Mr. _Smith_ fell

very ill of the country malignant fever; and having little prospect of

recovery, resigned his charge of the company's affairs to _Pierson_.

This Mr. _Smith_ had the character of an obliging, ingenious young

gentleman, and was much esteemed by the King, who hearing of his

desperate illness, sent his _Fatishman_ to hinder him from dying; who

coming to the factory went to Mr. _Smith's_ bed-side, and told him,

that his King had such a kindness for him, that he had sent to keep

him alive, and that he should not die. Mr. _Smith_ was in such a

languishing condition, that he little regarded him. Then the

_Fatishman_ went from him to the hog-yard, where they bury the white

men; and having carried with him some brandy, rum, oil, rice, &c., he

cry'd out aloud, _O you dead white men that lie here, you have a mind

to have this factor that is sick to you, but he is our king's friend,

and he loves him, and will not part with him as yet._ Then he went to

captain _Wiburn's_ grave who built the factory, and cry'd, _O you

captain of all the dead white men that lie here, this is your doings;

you would have this man from us to bear you company, because he is a

good man, but our king will not part with him, nor you shall not have

him yet._ Then making a hole in the ground over his grave, he poured

in the brandy, rum, oil, rice, &c., telling him, _If he wanted those

things, there they were for him, but the factor he must not expect,

nor should not have,_ with more such nonsense; then went to _Smith_,

and assured him he should not die; but growing troublesome to the sick

man, _Pierson_ turned him out of the factory, and in two days after

poor _Smith_ made his _exit_.

Mr. Josiah Relph to Mr. Thomas Routh, in Castle Street, Carlisle.

June 20, 1740.

* * * * *

“The following was sent me a few months ago by the minister of

Kirklees in Yorkshire, the burying place of Robin Hood. My

correspondent tells me it was found among the papers of the late Dr.

Gale of York, and is supposed to have been the genuine epitaph of that

noted English outlaw. He adds that the grave stone is yet to be seen,

but the characters are now worn out.

Here undernead dis laitl Stean

Laiz Robert Earl of Huntingtun.

Nea Arcir ver az hie sa geud,

An Piple kauld im Robin Heud.

Sick utlawz az hi and is men

Vil england nivr si agen.

Obiit 24. Kal. Dehembris, 1247.

I am, dear Sir, your most faithful and humble Servant,

JOSIAH RELPH.”

_Note in Nichols_.—See the stone engraved in the Sepulchral Monuments,

vol. i. p. cviii. Mr. Gough says the inscription was never on it; and

that the stone must have been brought from another place, as the

ground under it, on being explored, was found to have been never

before disturbed.[2]

[Footnote 2: On the disputed question of the genuineness of the above

epitaph, see the Notes and Illustrations to Ritson's Robin Hood, pp.

xliv—1. Robin Hood's Death and Burial is the last Ballad in the second

volume.

“And there they buried bold Robin Hood,

Near to the fair Kirkleys.”]

* * * * *

Lord Dalmeny, son of the E. of Rosebery, married about eighty years

ago a widow at Bath for her beauty. They went abroad, she sickened and

on her death-bed requested that she might be interred in some

particular church-yard, either in Sussex or Suffolk I forget which.

The body was embalmed, but at the custom-house in the port where it

was landed the officer suspected smuggling and insisted on opening it.

They recognized the features of the wife of their own clergyman,—who

having been married to him against her own inclination had eloped.

Both husbands followed the body to the grave. The Grandfather of Dr.

Smith of Norwich knew the Lord.

* * * * *

It was a melancholy notion of the Stoics that the condition of the

Soul, and even its individual immortality, might be affected by the

circumstances of death: for example, that if any person were killed by

a great mass of earth falling upon him, or the ruins of a building,

the Soul as well as the body would be crushed, and not being able to

extricate itself would be extinguished there: _existimant animam

hominis magno pondere extriti permeare non posse, et statim spargi,

quia non fuerit illi exitus liber._

Upon this belief, the satirical epitaph on Sir John Vanbrugh would

convey what might indeed be called a heavy curse.

* * * * *

Some of the Greenlanders, for even in Greenland there are sects,

suppose the soul to be so corporeal that it can increase or decrease,

is divisible, may lose part of its substance, and have it restored

again. On its way to Heaven which is five days dreadful journey, all

the way down a rugged rock, which is so steep that they must slide

down it, and so rough that their way is tracked with blood, they are

liable to be destroyed, and this destruction, which they call the

second death, is final, and therefore justly deemed of all things the

most terrible. It is beyond the power of their Angekoks to remedy this

evil; but these impostors pretend to the art of repairing a maimed

soul, bringing home a strayed or runaway one, and of changing away one

that is sickly, for the sound and sprightly one of a hare, a rein

deer, a bird, or an infant.

* * * * *

“This is the peevishness of our humane wisdom, yea, rather of our

humane folly, to earn for tidings from the dead, as if a spirit

departed could declare anything more evidently than the book of God,

which is the sure oracle of life? This was Saul's practise,—neglect

Samuel when he was alive, and seek after him when he was dead. What

says the Prophet, _Should not a people seek unto their God? Should the

living repair to the dead? (Isai. viij. 19.)_ Among the works of

Athanasius I find (though he be not the author of the questions to

Antiochus,) a discourse full of reason, why God would not permit the

soul of any of those that departed from hence to return back unto us

again, and to declare the state of things in hell unto us. For what

pestilent errors would arise from thence to seduce us? Devils would

transform themselves into the shapes of men that were deceased,

pretend that they were risen from the dead (for what will not the

Father of lies feign?) and so spread in any false doctrines, or incite

us to many barbarous actions, to our endless error and destruction.

And admit they be not Phantasms, and delusions, but the very men, yet

all men are liars, but God is truth. I told you what a Necromancer

Saul was in the Old Testament, he would believe nothing unless a

prophet rose from the grave to teach him. There is another as good as

himself in the New Testament, and not another pattern in all the

Scripture to my remembrance, Luke xvi. 27. The rich man in hell urged

Abraham to send Lazarus to admonish his brethren of their wicked life;

Abraham refers to Moses and the Prophets. He that could not teach

himself when he was alive, would teach Abraham himself being in hell,

_Nay, Father Abraham, but if one went unto them from the dead, they

will repent._

“The mind is composed with quietness to hear the living; the

apparitions of dead men, beside the suspicion of delusion, would fill

us with gastly horror, and it were impossible we should be fit

scholars to learn if such strong perturbation of fear should be upon

us. How much better hath God ordained for our security, and

tranquillity, _that the priest's lips should preserve knowledge_? I

know, if God shall see it fit to have us disciplined by such means, he

can stir up the spirits of the faithful departed to come among us: So,

after Christ's resurrection many dead bodies of the Saints which slept

arose, and came out of their graves, and went into the Holy City, and

appeared unto many. This was not upon a small matter, but upon a brave

and renowned occasion: But for the Spirits of damnation, that are tied

in chains of darkness, there is no repassage for them, and it makes

more to strengthen our belief that never any did return from hell to

tell us their woeful tale, than if any should return. It is among the

severe penalties of damnation that there is no indulgence for the

smallest respite to come out of it. The heathen put that truth into

this fable. The Lion asked the Fox, why he never came to visit him

when he was sick: Says the Fox, because I can trace many beasts by the

print of their foot that have gone toward your den, Sir Lion, but I

cannot see the print of one foot that ever came back:

_Quia me vestigia terrent

Omnia te advorsum spectantia, nulla retrorsum._

So there is a beaten, and a broad road that leads the reprobate to

hell, but you do not find the print of one hoof that ever came back.

When I have given you my judgment about apparitions of the dead in

their descending from Heaven, or ascending from hell, I must tell you

in the third place, I have met with a thousand stories in Pontifician

writings concerning some that have had repassage from Purgatory to

their familiars upon earth. Notwithstanding the reverence I bear to

Gregory the Great, I cannot refrain to say; He was much to blame to

begin such fictions upon his credulity; others have been more to blame

that have invented such Legends; and they are most to be derided that

believe them. _O miserable Theology!_ if, thy tenets must be confirmed

by sick men's dreams, and dead men's phantastical apparitions!”

BP. HACKETT.

* * * * *

“It is a morose humour in some, even ministers, that they will not

give a due commendation to the deceased: whereby they not only offer a

seeming unkindness to the dead, but do a real injury to the living, by

discouraging virtue, and depriving us of the great instruments of

piety, good examples: which usually are far more effective methods of

instruction, than any precepts: These commonly urging only the

necessity of those duties, while the other shew the possibility and

manner of performing.

“But then, 'tis a most unchristian and uncharitable mistake in those,

that think it unlawful to commemorate the dead, and to celebrate their

memories: whereas there is no one thing does so much uphold and keep

up the honour and interest of religion amongst the multitude, as the

due observance of those Anniversaries which the Church has, upon this

account, scattered throughout the whole course of the year, would do:

and indeed to our neglect of this in a great part the present decay of

religion may rationally be imputed.

“Thus in this age of our's what Pliny saith of his, _Postquam desimus

facere laudanda, laudari quoque ineptum putamus._ Since people have

left off doing things that are praiseworthy, they look upon praise

itself as a silly thing.

“And possibly the generality of hearers themselves are not free from

this fault; who peradventure may fancy their own life upbraided, when

they hear another's commended.

“But that the servants of God, which depart this life in his faith and

fear, may and must be praised, I shall endeavour to make good upon

these three grounds.

“_In common justice to the deceased themselves._ Ordinary civility

teaches us to speak well of the dead. _Nec quicquam sanctius habet

reverentia superstitum, quàm ut amissos venerabiliter recordetur,_

says Ausonius, and makes this the ground of the Parentalia, which had

been ever since Numa's time.

“_Praise_, however it may become the living, is a just debt to the

deserts of the dead, who are now got clear out of the reach of envy;

which, if it have anything of the generous in it, will scorn,

vulture-like, to prey upon carcass.

“Besides, Christianity lays a greater obligation upon us; _The

Communion of Saints_ is a _Tenet_ of our faith. Now, as we ought not

_pray_ to or for them, so we may and must _praise_ them.

“This is the least we can do in return for those great offices, they

did the Church Militant, while they were with us, and now do, they are

with God; nor have we any other probable way of communicating with

them.

“The Philosopher in his Morals makes it a question, whether the dead

are in any way concerned in what befals them or their posterity after

their decease; and whether those honours and reproaches, which

survivors cast upon them, reach them or no? and he concludes it after

a long debate in the affirmative; not so, he says, as to alter their

state, but, _συμβάλλεσθαί τι_, to contribute somewhat to it.

“Tully, though not absolutely persuaded of an immortal soul, as

speaking doubtfully and variously of it, yet is constant to this, that

he takes a good name and a reputation, we leave behind us, to be a

kind of immortality.

“But there is more in it than so. Our remembrance of the Saints may be

a means to improve their bliss, and heighten their rewards to all

eternity. Abraham, the Father of the Faithful, hath his bosom thus

daily enlarged for new comers.

“Whether the heirs of the kingdom are, at their first admission,

instated into a full possession of all their glory, and kept to that

stint, I think may be a doubt. For if the faculty be perfected by the

object, about which 'tis conversant; then the faculties of those

blessed ones being continually employed upon an infinite object, must

needs be infinitely perficible, and capable still of being more and

more enlarged, and consequently of receiving still new and further

additions of glory.

“Not only so, (this is in Heaven:) but even the influence of that

example, they leave behind them on earth, drawing still more and more

souls after them to God, will also add to those improvements to the

end of the world, and bring in a revenue of accessory joys.

“And would it not be unjust in us then to deny them those glorious

advantages, which our commemoration and inclination may and ought to

give them.”[3]

ADAM LITTLETON.

[Footnote 3: “Five Sermons formerly printed,” p. 61., at the end of

the volume. The one from which the above passage is extracted is that

preached at the obsequies of the Right Honorable the Lady Jane

Cheyne.]

* * * * *

Circles and right lines limit and close all bodies, and the mortal

right lined circle, must conclude to shut up all. There is no Antidote

against the Opinion of Time, which, temporally considereth all things;

Our Fathers find their Graves in our short memories and sadly tell us

how we may be buried in our survivors. Grave-stones tell truth scarce

forty years: Generations pass while some Trees stand, and old families

last not three oaks. To be read by bare Inscriptions like many in

Gruter, to hope for Eternity by Ænigmatical Epithetes, or first

Letters of our names to be studied by Antiquaries, who we were, and

have new names given us like many of the Mummies, are cold

consolations unto the students of perpetuity even by everlasting

Languages.

SIR T. BROWNE.

CHAPTER CCXXXVI.

CHARITY OF THE DOCTOR IN HIS OPINIONS.—MASON THE POET.—POLITICAL

MEDICINE.—SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE.—CERVANTES.—STATE PHYSICIANS.—ADVANTAGE

TO BE DERIVED FROM, WHETHER TO KING, CABINET, LORDS OR

COMMONS.—EXAMPLES.—PHILOSOPHY OF POPULAR EXPRESSIONS.—COTTON

MATHER.—CLAUDE PAJON AND BARNABAS OLEY.—TIMOTHY ROGERS AND MELANCHOLY.