CHAPTER I.

[Illustration: A CHAPMAN.

_From "The Cries and Habits of the City of London," by M. Lauron,

1709._]

CHAP-BOOKS

OF

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

WITH

_FACSIMILES, NOTES, AND INTRODUCTION_

BY

JOHN ASHTON

[Illustration]

=London=

CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY

1882

_All rights reserved_

PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.

INTRODUCTION.

Although these Chap-books are very curious, and on many accounts

interesting, no attempt has yet been made to place them before

the public in a collected form, accompanied by the characteristic

engravings, without which they would lose much of their value. They

are the relics of a happily past age, one which can never return,

and we, in this our day of cheap, plentiful, and good literature, can

hardly conceive a time when in the major part of this country, and

to the larger portion of its population, these little Chap-books

were nearly the only mental pabulum offered. Away from the towns,

newspapers were rare indeed, and not worth much when obtainable--poor

little flimsy sheets such as nowadays we should not dream of either

reading or publishing, with very little news in them, and that

consisting principally of war items, and foreign news, whilst these

latter books were carried in the packs of the pedlars, or Chapmen, to

every village, and to every home.

Previous to the eighteenth century, these men generally carried

ballads, as is so well exemplified in the "Winter's Tale," in

Shakespeare's inimitable conception, Autolycus. The servant (Act iv.

sc. 3) well describes his stock: "He hath songs, for man, or woman,

of all sizes; no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves. He

has the prettiest love songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is

strange; with such delicate burdens of 'dildos' and 'fadings:' 'jump

her' and 'thump her;' and where some stretch-mouthed rascal would, as

it were, mean mischief, and break a foul gap into the matter, he makes

the maid to answer, 'Whoop, do me no harm, good man;' puts him off,

slights him, with 'Whoop, do me no harm, good man.'" And Autolycus,

himself, hardly exaggerates the style of his wares, judging by those

which have come down to us, when he praises the ballads: "How a

usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a burden; and

how she longed to eat adders' heads, and toads carbonadoed;" and "of

a fish, that appeared upon the coast, on Wednesday the fourscore of

April, forty thousand fathom above water, and sung this ballad against

the hard hearts of maids;" for the wonders of both ballads, and early

Chap-books, are manifold, and bear strange testimony to the ignorance,

and credulity, of their purchasers. These ballads and Chap-books have,

luckily for us, been preserved by collectors, and although they are

scarce, are accessible to readers in that national blessing, the

British Museum. There the Roxburghe, Luttrell, Bagford, and other

collections of black-letter ballads are easily obtainable for purposes

of study, and, although the Chap-books, to the uninitiated (owing to

the difficulties of the Catalogue), are not quite so easy of access,

yet there they exist, and are a splendid series--it is impossible to

say a complete one, because some are unique, and are in private hands,

but so large, especially from the middle to the close of the last

century, as to be virtually so.

I have confined myself entirely to the books of the last century, as,

previous to it, there were few, and almost all black-letter tracts

have been published or noted; and, after it, the books in circulation

were chiefly very inferior reprints of those already published. As

they are mostly undated, I have found some difficulty in attributing

dates to them, as the guides, such as type, wood engravings, etc., are

here fallacious, many--with the exception of Dicey's series--having

been printed with old type, and any wood block being used, if at

all resembling the subject. I have not taken any dated in the Museum

Catalogue as being of this present century, even though internal

evidence showed they were earlier. The Museum dates are admittedly

fallacious and merely approximate, and nearly all are queried. For

instance, nearly the whole of the beautiful Aldermary Churchyard

(first) editions are put down as 1750?--a manifest impossibility, for

there could not have been such an eruption of one class of publication

from one firm in one year--and another is dated 1700?, although the

book from which it is taken was not published until 1703. Still, as

a line must be drawn somewhere, I have accepted these quasi dates,

although such acceptation has somewhat narrowed my scheme, and

deprived the reader of some entertainment, and I have published

nothing which is not described in the Museum Catalogue as being

between the years 1700 and 1800.

In fact, the Chap-book proper did not exist before the former date,

unless the Civil War and political tracts can be so termed. Doubtless

these were hawked by the pedlars, but they were not these pennyworths,

suitable to everybody's taste, and within the reach of anybody's

purse, owing to their extremely low price, which must, or ought

to have, extracted every available copper in the village, when the

Chapman opened his budget of brand-new books.

In the seventeenth, and during the first quarter of the eighteenth

century, the popular books were generally in 8vo form, _i.e._ they

consisted of a sheet of paper folded in eight, and making a book

of sixteen pages; but during the other seventy-five years they were

almost invariably 12mo, _i.e._ a sheet folded into twelve, and making

twenty-four pages. After 1800 they rapidly declined. The type and wood

blocks were getting worn out, and never seem to have been renewed;

publishers got less scrupulous, and used any wood blocks without

reference to the letter-press, until, after Grub Street authors

had worked their wicked will upon them, Catnach buried them in a

dishonoured grave.

But while they were in their prime, they mark an epoch in the literary

history of our nation, quite as much as the higher types of literature

do, and they help us to gauge the intellectual capacity of the lower

and lower middle classes of the last century.

The Chapman _proper_, too, is a thing of the past, although we still

have hawkers, and the travelling "credit drapers," or "tallymen," yet

penetrate every village; but the Chapman, as described by Cotsgrave in

his "Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues" (London, 1611),

no longer exists. He is there faithfully portrayed under the heading

"BISSOÜART, m. A paultrie Pedlar, who in a long packe or maund (which

he carries for the most part open, and (hanging from his necke) before

him) hath Almanacks, Bookes of News, or other trifling ware to sell."

Shakespeare uses the word in a somewhat different sense, making him

more of a general dealer, as in "Love's Labour's Lost," Act ii. SC. I:

"_Princess of France._ Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,

Not uttered by base sale of Chapmen's tongues."

And in "Troilus and Cressida," Act iv. SC. I:

"_Paris._ Fair Diomed, you do as Chapmen do,

Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy."

Unlike his modern congener, the colporteur, the Chapman's life seems

to have been an exceptionally hard one, especially if we can trust a

description, professedly by one of the fraternity, in "The History of

John Cheap the Chapman," a Chap-book published early in the present

century. He appears, on his own confession, to have been as much of

a rogue as he well could be with impunity and without absolutely

transgressing the law, and, as his character was well known, very few

roofs would shelter him, and he had to sleep in barns, or even

with the pigs. He had to take out a licence, and was classed in

old bye-laws and proclamations as "Hawkers, Vendors, Pedlars, petty

Chapmen, _and unruly people_." In more modern times the literary

Mercury dropped the somewhat besmirched title of Chapmen, and was

euphoniously designated the "Travelling," "Flying," or "Running

Stationer."

Little could he have dreamed that his little penny books would ever

have become scarce, and prized by book collectors, and fetch high

prices whenever the rare occasion happened that they were exposed

for sale. I have taken out the prices paid in 1845 and 1847 for nine

volumes of them, bought at as many different sales. These nine volumes

contain ninety-nine Chap-books, and the price paid for them all was

£24 13_s._ 6_d._, or an average of five shillings each--surely not a

bad increment in a hundred years on the outlay of a penny; but then,

these volumes were bought very cheaply, as some of their delighted

purchasers record.

The principal factory for them, and from which certainly nine-tenths

of them emanated, was No. 4, Aldermary Churchyard, afterwards removed

to Bow Churchyard, close by. The names of the proprietors were William

and Cluer Dicey--afterwards C. Dicey only--and they seem to have come

from Northampton, as, in "Hippolito and Dorinda," 1720, the firm is

described as "Raikes and Dicey, Northampton;" and this connection was

not allowed to lapse, for we see, nearly half a century later, that

"The Conquest of France" was "printed and sold by C. Dicey in Bow

Church Yard: sold also at his Warehouse in Northampton."

From Dicey's house came nearly all the original Chap-books, and I have

appended as perfect a list as I can make, amounting to over 120,

of their publications. Unscrupulous booksellers, however, generally

pirated them very soon after issue, especially at Newcastle, where

certainly the next largest trade was done in this class of books. The

Newcastle editions are rougher in every way, in engravings, type, and

paper, than the very well got up little books of Dicey's, but I

have frequently taken them in preference, because of the superior

quaintness of the engravings.

After the commencement of the present century reading became more

popular, and the following, which are only the names of _a few_ places

where Chap-books were published, show the great and widely spread

interest taken in their production:--Edinburgh, Glasgow, Paisley,

Kilmarnock, Penrith, Stirling, Falkirk, Dublin, York, Stokesley,

Warrington, Liverpool, Banbury, Aylesbury, Durham, Dumfries,

Birmingham, Wolverhampton, Coventry, Whitehaven, Carlisle, Worcester,

Cirencester, etc., etc. And they flourished, for they formed nearly

the sole literature of the poor, until the _Penny Magazine_ and

Chambers's penny Tracts and Miscellanies gave them their deathblow,

and relegated them to the book-shelves of collectors.

That these histories were known and prized in Queen Anne's time, is

evidenced by the following quotation from the _Weekly Comedy_, January

22, 1708:--"I'll give him Ten of the largest Folio Books in my Study,

Letter'd on the Back, and bound in _Calves Skin_. He shall have some

of those that are the most scarce and rare among the Learned, and

therefore may be of greater use to so _Voluminous_ an _Author_;

there is '_Tom Thumb_' with _Annotations_ and _Critical Remarks_, two

volumes in folio. The '_Comical Life and Tragical Death of the Old

Woman that was Hang'd for Drowning herself in_ Ratcliffe High-Way:'

One large Volume, it being the 20th Edition, with many new Additions

and Observations. '_Jack and the Gyants_;' formerly Printed in a small

Octavo, but now Improv'd to three Folio Volumes by that Elaborate

Editor, _Forestus, Ignotus Nicholaus Ignoramus Sampsonius_; then there

is '_The King and the Cobler_,' a Noble piece of Antiquity, and fill'd

with many Pleasant Modern Intrigues fit to divert the most Curious."

And Steele, writing in the _Tatler_, No. 95, as Isaac Bickerstaff, and

speaking of his godson, a little boy of eight years of age, says, "I

found he had very much turned his studies, for about twelve months

past, into the lives and adventures of Don Bellianis of Greece, Guy of

Warwick, The Seven Champions, and other historians of that age....

He would tell you the mismanagements of John Hickerthrift, find fault

with the passionate temper in Bevis of Southampton and loved St.

George for being Champion of England."

As before said, their great variety adapted them for every purchaser,

and they may be roughly classed under the following heads:--Religious,

Diabolical, Supernatural, Superstitious, Romantic, Humorous,

Legendary, Historical, Biographical, and Criminal, besides those which

cannot fairly be put in any of the above categories; and under this

classification and in this sequence I have taken them. The Religious,

strictly so called, are the fewest, the subjects, such as "Dr.

Faustus," etc., connected with his Satanic Majesty being more

exciting, and probably paying better; whilst the Supernatural, such

as "The Duke of Buckingham's Father's Ghost," "The Guildford Ghost,"

etc., trading upon man's credulity and his love of the marvellous,

afford a far larger assortment. About the same amount of popularity

may be given to the Superstitious Chap-books--those relating to

fortune telling and the interpretation of Dreams and Moles, etc. But

they were nothing like the favourites those of the Romantic School

were. These dear old romances, handed down from the days when printing

was not--some, like "Jack the Giant Killer," of Norse extraction;

others, like "Tom Hickathrift," "Guy of Warwick," "Bevis of Hampton,"

etc., records of the doughty deeds of local champions; and others,

again, "Reynard the Fox," "Valentine and Orson," and "Fortunatus," of

foreign birth--hit the popular taste, and many were the editions

of them. Naturally, however, the Humorous stories were the prime

favourites. The Jest-books, pure and simple, are, from their extremely

coarse witticisms, utterly incapable of being reproduced for general

reading nowadays, and the whole of them are more or less highly

spiced; but even here were shades of humour to suit all classes, from

the solemn foolery of the "Wise Men of Gotham," or the "World turned

upside down," to the rollicking fun of "Tom Tram," "The Fryer and the

Boy," or "Jack Horner." In reading these books we must not, however,

look upon them from our present point of view. Whether men and women

are better now than they used to be, is a moot point, but things used

to be spoken of openly, which are now never whispered, and no harm was

done, nor offence taken; so the broad humour of the jest-books was,

after all, only exuberant fun, and many of the _bonnes histoires_ are

extremely laughable, though to our own thinking equally indelicate.

The old legends still held sway, and I have given four--"Adam Bell,"

"Robin Hood," "The Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green," and "The Children

in the Wood"--all of them remarkable for their illustrations. History

has a wide range from "Fair Rosamond," to "The Royal Martyr," Charles

I., whilst, naturally, such books as "Robinson Crusoe," "George

Barnwell," and a host of criminal literature found ready purchasers.

I have not included Calendars, and I have purposely avoided Garlands,

or Collections of ballads, which equally come under the category of

Chap-books. I should have liked to have noticed more of them, but the

exigencies of publishing have prevented it; still, those I have taken

seem to me to be the best fitted for the purpose I had in view, which

was to give a fairly representative list: and I hope I have succeeded

in producing a book at once both amusing and instructive, besides

having rescued these almost forgotten booklets from the limbo into

which they were fast descending.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

The History of Joseph and his Brethren 1

The Holy Disciple 25

The Wandering Jew 28

The Gospel of Nicodemus 30

The Unhappy Birth, Wicked Life, and Miserable Death of that

Vile Traytor and Apostle Judas Iscariot 32

A Terrible and Seasonable Warning to Young Men 33

The Kentish Miracle 34

The Witch of the Woodlands 35

The History of Dr. John Faustus 38

The History of the Learned Friar Bacon 53

A Timely Warning to Rash and Disobedient Children 56

Bateman's Tragedy 57

The Miracle of Miracles 60

A Wonderful and Strange Relation of a Sailor 61

The Children's Example 62

A New Prophesy 64

God's Just Judgment on Blasphemers 65

A Dreadful Warning to all Wicked and Forsworn Sinners 66

A Full and True Relation of one Mr. Rich Langly, a Glazier 67

A Full, True and Particular Account of the Ghost or Apparition

of the Late Duke of Buckingham's Father 68

The Portsmouth Ghost 70

The Guilford Ghost 72

The Wonder of Wonders 74

Dreams and Moles 78

The Old Egyptian Fortune-Teller's Last Legacy 79

A New Fortune Book 83

The History of Mother Bunch of the West 84

The History of Mother Shipton 88

Nixon's Cheshire Prophecy 92

Reynard the Fox 95

Valentine and Orson 109

Fortunatus 124

Guy, Earl of Warwick 138

The History of the Life and Death of that Noble Knight

Sir Bevis of Southampton 156

The Life and Death of St. George 163

Patient Grissel 171

The Pleasant and Delightful History of Jack and the Giants 184

A Pleasant and Delightful History of Thomas Hickathrift 192

Tom Thumb 206

The Shoemaker's Glory 222

The Famous History of the Valiant London Prentice 227

The Lover's Quarrel 230

The History of the King and the Cobler 233

The Friar and Boy 237

The Pleasant History of Jack Horner 245

The Mad Pranks of Tom Tram 248

The Birth, Life, and Death of John Franks 253

Simple Simon's Misfortunes 258

The History of Tom Long the Carrier 263

The World turned Upside Down 265

A Strange and Wonderful Relation of the Old Woman who was

Drowned at Ratcliffe Highway 273

The Wise Men of Gotham 275

Joe Miller's Jests 288

A Whetstone for Dull Wits 295

The True Trial of Understanding 304

The Whole Trial and Indictment of Sir John Barleycorn, Knt. 314

Long Meg of Westminster 323

Merry Frolicks 337

The Life and Death of Sheffery Morgan 341

The Welch Traveller 344

Joaks upon Joaks 349

The History of Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, and William of

Cloudeslie 353

A True Tale of Robin Hood 356

The History of the Blind Begger of Bednal Green 360

The History of the Two Children in the Wood 369

The History of Sir Richard Whittington 376

The History of Wat Tyler and Jack Straw 382

The History of Jack of Newbury 384

The Life and Death of Fair Rosamond 387

The Story of King Edward III. and the Countess of Salisbury 390

The Conquest of France 392

The History of Jane Shore 393

The History of the Most Renowned Queen Elizabeth and her Great

Favourite the Earl of Essex 396

The History of the Royal Martyr 398

England's Black Tribunal 403

The Foreign Travels of Sir John Mandeville 405

The Surprizing Life and Most Strange Adventures of Robinson

Crusoe 417

A Brief Relation of the Adventures of M. Bamfyeld Moore Carew 423

The Fortunes and Misfortunes of Moll Flanders 427

Youth's Warning-piece 429

The Merry Life and Mad Exploits of Capt. James Hind 433

The History of John Gregg 437

The Bloody Tragedy 439

The Unfortunate Family 440

The Horrors of Jealousie 441

The Constant, but Unhappy Lovers 442

A Looking Glass for Swearers, etc. 443

Farther, and More Terrible Warnings from God 444

The Constant Couple 446

The Distressed Child in the Wood 447

The Lawyer's Doom 448

The Whole Life and Adventures of Miss Davis 449

The Life and Death of Christian Bowman 453

The Drunkard's Legacy 455

Good News for England 458

A Dialogue between a Blind Man and Death 459

The Devil upon Two Sticks 461

Æsop's Fables 463

A Choice Collection of Cookery Receipts 472

The Pleasant History of Taffy's Progress to London 475

The Whole Life, Character, and Conversation of that Foolish

Creature called Granny 478

A York Dialogue between Ned and Harry 479

The French King's Wedding 481

Appendix 483

CHAP-BOOKS

OF

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

THE HISTORY OF

JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN.

The first printed metrical history of this Biblical episode is the

book printed by Wynkyn de Worde, a book of fourteen leaves, and

entitled "Thystorie of Jacob and his twelue Sones. Emp[=ry]ted at

L[=o]don in Fletestrete at the sygne of the Sonne by Wynkyn de Worde"

(no date). It is chiefly remarkable in connection with this book, as

mentioning Chapmen.

"Now leaue we of them & speak we of the Chapman

That passed ouer the sea into Egipt land.

But truely ere that he thether came

The wind stiffly against them did stand;

And yet at the last an hauen they fand.

The Chapman led Joseph with a rope in the streat

Him for to bye came many a Lord great."

A metrical edition is still used in the performance of a sort of

miracle play, entitled "Joseph and his Brothers. A Biblical Drama or

Mystery Play." 1864. London and Derby.

The action of this piece is reported to be somewhat ludicrous, the

performers being in their everyday dress, or, rather, in their

Sunday attire. There is no scenery, and very little life or motion in

connection with the dialogue, the quality of which may be judged by

the following specimen:--

"(_Joseph, weeping, offers Benjamin his goblet._)

Here, my son,

Drink from my Cup; the sentiment shall be

'Health and long life to your aged father.'

(_Benjamin drinks._)

Now sing me one of your Hebrew Songs

To any National Air; for we in Egypt

Know little of the music of Chanaan.

_Benjamin._ If such be your wish, I'll sing the song

I often sing to soothe my father's breast

When he is sad with memory of the past.

(_He sings._) Air, '_Phillis is my only joy_,' etc.:--

Joseph was my favourite boy,

Rachel's firstborn Son and pride:

His father's hope, his father's joy,

Begotten in life's eventide," etc.

THE HISTORY

OF

Joseph and his Brethren,

WITH

_Jacob's Journey into Egypt_,

AND

HIS DEATH AND FUNERAL.

ILLUSTRATED WITH TWELVE CUTS.

[Illustration: JOSEPH BROUGHT BEFORE PHAROAH.]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD,

BOW LANE, LONDON.

THE HISTORY OF

JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN.

JACOB'S LOVE TO JOSEPH, WITH JOSEPH'S FIRST DREAM.

In Canaan's fruitful land there liv'd of late,

Old Isaac's heir blest with a vast estate;

Near Hebron Jacob sourjourned all alone,

A stranger in the land that was his own:

Dear to his God, for humbly he ador'd him,

As Isaac did, and Abraham before him.

And as he was of worldly wealth possest,

So with twelve sons the good old man was blest,

Amongst all whom none his affections won,

So much as Joseph, Rachel's first-born son,

He in his bosom lay, still next his heart,

And with his Joseph would by no means part:

He was the lad on whom he most did doat,

And gave to him a many colour'd coat.

This made his bretheren at young Joseph grudge,

And thought their father loved him too much.

At Jacob's love their hatred did encrease,

That they could hardly speak to him in peace.

But Joseph, (in whose heart the filial fear

Of his Creator early did appear)

Not being conscious to himself at all,

He had done ought to move his brethren's gall,

Did unto them a dream of his relate, }

Which (tho' it did increase his bretheren's hate, }

Did plainly shew forth Joseph's future state }

This is the dream, said Joseph, I did see:

The Corn was reap'd, and binding sheaves are we,

When my sheaf only was on a sudden found,

Both to arise and stand upon the ground.

Then yours arose, which round about were laid, }

And unto mine a low obeisance made, }

Is this your dream, his brethren said? }

Can your ambitious thoughts become so vain,

To think that you shall o'er your brethren reign?

Or that we unto you shall tribute pay,

And at your feet our servile necks should lay?

Believe us brother, this youll never see,

But your aspiring will your ruin be.

[Illustration]

Thus Joseph's bretheren talk'd, and if before

They hated him, they did it now much more;

The father lov'd him, and the lad they thought,

Took more upon him, than indeed he ought.

But they who judge a matter e'er the time,

Are oftentimes involved in a crime:

'Tis therefore best for us to wait and see

What the issue of mysterious things will be;

For those that judge by meer imagination,

Will find things contrary to their expectation.

JOSEPH'S SECOND DREAM.

[Illustration]

How bold is innocence! how fix'd it grows!

It fears no seeming friends nor real foes.

'Tis conscious of no guilt, nor base designs,

And therefore forms no plots nor countermines:

But in the paths of virtue walks on still,

And as it does none, so it fears no ill.

Just so it was with Joseph: lately he

Had dream'd a dream, and was so very free,

He to his bretheren did the dream reveal,

At which their hatred scarce they could conceal.

But Joseph not intending any ill,

Dream'd on again, and told his bretheren still.

Methought as on my slumb'ring bed I lay,

I saw a glorious light more bright than day:

The sun and moon, those glorious lamps of heaven,

With glittering stars in number seven,

Came all to me, on purpose to adore me,

And every one of them bow'd down before me:

And each one when they had thus obedience made,

Withdrew, nor for each other longer staid.

When Joseph thus his last dream had related,

Then he was by his bretheren much more hated.

This dream young Joseph to his father told,

Who when he heard it, thinking him too bold,

Rebuk'd him thus: What dream is this I hear?

You are infatuated, child I fear,

Must I, your mother, and your bretheren too,

Become your slaves and bow down to you.

Thus Jacob chid him, for at present he,

Saw not so far into futurity:

Yet he did wonder how things might succeed,

And what for Joseph providence decreed,

For well he thought those dreams wa'nt sent in vain

Yet knew not how he should these dreams explain.

For those things oft are hid from human eyes,

Which are by him that rules above the skies

Firmly decreed; which when they come to know,

The beauty of the work will plainly shew,

And all those bretheren which now Joseph hate,

Shall then bow down to his superior fate:

Old Jacob therefore, just to make a shew,

As if he was displeased with Joseph too,

Thus seem'd to chide young Joseph, but indeed

To his strange dreams he gave no little heed;

Tho' how to interpret them he could not tell,

Yet in the meanwhile he observ'd them well.

How great's the difference 'twixt a father's love,

And brethren's hatred may be seen above.

They hate their brother for his dreams, but he, }

Observes his words, and willing is to see }

What the event in future times may be. }

JOSEPH PUT INTO A PIT BY HIS BRETHEREN.

When envy in the heart of man does reign,

To stifle its effects proves oft in vain.

Like fire conceal'd, which none at first did know,

It soon breaks out and breeds a world of woe:

Young Joseph this by sad experience knew,

And his brethren's envy made him find it true:

For they, as in the sequel we shall see,

Resolv'd upon poor Joseph's tragedy;

That they together at his dream might mock,

Which they almost effected, when their flock

In Sechem's fruitful field they fed, for there

Was Joseph sent to see how they did fare:

Joseph his father readily obeys,

And on the pleasing message goes his ways.

[Illustration]

Far off they know, and Joseph's coming note,

For he had on his many colour'd coat;

Which did their causeless anger set on fire,

And they against Joseph presently conspire:

Lo yonder doth the dreamer come they cry,

Now lets agree and act this tragedy.

And when we've slain him in some digged pit

Let's throw his carcase, and then cover it,

And if our father ask for him, we'll say,

We fear he's kill'd by some wild beast of prey.

This Reuben heard, who was to save him bent, }

And therefore said, (their purpose to prevent,) }

To shed his blood I'll ne'er give my consent; }

But into some deep pit him let us throw,

And what we've done there's none will know.

This Reuben said his life for to defend,

Till he could home unto his father send.

To Reuben's proposition they agree,

And what came of it we shall quickly see.

Joseph by this time to his brethren got,

And now affliction was to be his lot;

They told him all his dreams would prove a lye,

For in a pit he now should starve and die.

Joseph for his life did now entreat and pray, }

But to his tears and prayers they answered Nay, }

And from him first his coat they took away. }

Then into an empty pit they did him throw, }

And there left Joseph almost drown'd in woe, }

While they to eating and to drinking go. }

See here the vile effects of causeless rage,

In what black crimes does it oftimes engage.

Nearest relations! setting bretheren on

To work their brother's dire destruction.

But now poor Joseph in the pit doth lie,

'Twill be his bretheren's turn to weep and cry.

JOSEPH SOLD INTO EGYPT.

[Illustration]

As Joseph in the Pit condemn'd to die,

So did his grandfather on the altar lie,

The wood was laid, a sacrificing knife,

Was lifted up to take poor Isaac's life.

But heaven that ne'er design'd the lad should die,

Stopt the bold hand, and shew'd a lamb just by,

Thus in like manner did the all-wise decree,

His brethrens plots should disappointed be:

For while within the Pit poor Joseph lay, }

And they set down to eat and drink and play, }

And with rejoicing revel out the day: }

Some Ishmaelitish merchants strait drew near, }

Who to the land of Egypt journeying were, }

To sell some balm and myrrh, and spices there. }

This had on Judah no impressions made,

And therefore to his bretheren thus he said,

Come Sirs, to kill young Joseph is not good,

What profit will it be to spill his blood?

How are we sure his death we shall conceal?

The birds of air this murder will reveal.

Come let's to Egypt sell him for a slave,

And we for him some money sure may have;

So from his blood our hands shall be clear,

And we for him have no cause for fear.

To this advice they presently agreed,

And Joseph from the Pit was drawn with speed:

For twenty pieces they their brother sell

To the Ishmaelites, and thought their bargain well.

And thus they to their brother bid adieu,

For he was quickly carried out of view.

Reuben this time was absent, and not told

That Joseph was took out of the pit and sold,

He therefore to the pit return'd, that he

Might sit his father's Joy at liberty.

But when, alas! he found he was not there, }

He was so overcome with black despair, }

To rend his garments he could not forbear; }

Then going to his bretheren thus said he,

Poor Joseph's out, and whither shall I flee?

But they, not so concern'd, still kill'd a goat,

And in its blood they dipt poor Joseph's coat,

And that they all suspicion might prevent,

It by a stranger to their father sent,

Saying, We've found, and brought this coat to know

Whether 'tis thy son Joseph's coat or no.

This brought sad floods of tears from Jacob's eyes,

Ah! 'tis my son's, my Joseph's coat he cries:

Ah! woe is me, thus wretched and forlorn,

For my poor Joseph is in pieces torn:

His sons and daughters comfort him in vain, }

He can't but mourn while he thinks Joseph slain, }

And yet those sons won't fetch him back again. }

JOSEPH AND HIS MISTRESS.

[Illustration]

How much for Joseph's loss old Jacob griev'd,

It was not now his time to be reliev'd:

And therefore let's to Egypt turn our thought,

Where we shall find young Joseph sold and bought,

By Potiphar a Captain of the Guard;

Sudden the change, but yet I can't say hard;

For Joseph mercy in this change did spy,

And thought it better than i' th' pit to lie;

And well might Joseph be therewith content,

For God was with him where so 'er he went;

And tho' he did him with afflictions try,

He gave him favour in his master's eye,

For he each work he undertook did bless,

And crown'd his blessing with a good success.

So that his master then him steward made,

And Joseph's orders were by all obey'd:

In which such diligence and care he took,

His master needed after nothing look.

But his estate poor Joseph long can't hold,

His Mistress love so hot, made his master's cold,

For Joseph was so comely, young and wise,

His mistress on him cast her lustful eyes;

Joseph perceiv'd it, yet no notice took,

Nor scarcely on her did he dare to look.

This vex't her so, she could no more forbear,

But unto Joseph did the same declare;

Joseph with grief the unwelcome tidings heard,

But he his course by heavens directions steer'd.

And therefore to his mistress thus did say,

O mistress I must herein disobey;

My master has committed all to me,

That is within his house, save only thee:

And if I such a wickedness should do,

I should offend my God and master too;

And justly should I forfeit my own life,

To wrong my master's bed, debauch his wife.

But tho' he thus had given her denial,

She was resolv'd to make a further trial,

She saw he minded not whate'er she said,

And therefore now another plot she laid.

Joseph one day some business had to do,

When none was in the house beside them two,

When casting off all shame, and growing bold,

Of Joseph's upper garment she takes hold;

Now Joseph you shall lie with me, said she,

For there is none in the house but you and me;

But while she held his cloak to make him stay,

He left it with her, and made haste away;

On this her lust to anger turns, and she,

Cries out help! help! Joseph will ravish me,

Whose raging lust I hardly could withstand!

But fled, and left his garment in my hand.

JOSEPH CAST INTO THE DUNGEON.

[Illustration]

Poor Joseph's innocence was no defence,

Against this brazen strumpet's impudence,

She first accus'd, and that she might prevail,

She to her husband thus then told her tale.

Hast thou this servant hither brought that he

Might make a mock upon my chastity?

What tho' he's one come from the Hebrew Stock,

Shall he thus at my virtue make a mock?

For if I once should yield to throw't away }

On such a wretch.--O think what you would say? }

And yet he sought to do't this very day. }

But when he did this steady virtue find,

Then fled, and left his garment here behind.

No wonder if this story so well told

Stirr'd up his wrath, and made his love turn cold;

He strait believ'd all that his wife had said,

And Joseph was unheard in prison laid.

Joseph must now again live underground,

And in a dungeon have his virtue crown'd,

But tho' in prison cast and bound in chains,

His God is with him, and his friend remains;

So here he with the gaoler favour finds,

That whatsoe'er he does he never minds:

The Gaoler knew his God was with him still,

And therefore lets him do whate'er he will.

King Pharoah's butler and his baker too

Under their Princes great displeasure grew

And therefore both of them were put in ward,

As prisoners to the captain of the guard

Where Joseph lay; to whom they did declare,

Their case, he serving them whilst they were there.

One night, a several dream to each befel,

But what it signify'd they could not tell.

Joseph perceiving they were very sad,

Demanded both the Dreams that they had had,

On which they each their dream to Joseph told,

Who strait the meaning of it did unfold.

The butler in three days restor'd shall be, }

The baker should be hang'd upon a tree, }

But when this comes to pass remember me, }

Said he to the Butler, for here I am thrown,

And charg'd with crimes that are to me unknown,

In three days time (such was their different case)

The Baker hang'd, the Butler gains his place;

And he again held Pharoh's cup in his hand,

And stood before him as he us'd to stand.

And yet for all that he to Joseph said,

Joseph in prison two years longer staid,

In all which time he ne'er of Joseph thought,

Tho' he his help so earnestly besought.

So in affliction promises we make,

But when that's o'er forget whate'er we speak.

JOSEPH'S ADVANCEMENT.

[Illustration]

More than two years Joseph in prison lay,

Yet had no prospect of the happy day

Of his release; nor any means could see,

By which he could be set at liberty;

But God who sent him thither to be try'd,

In his due time his mercy magnify'd.

For as King Pharaoh lay upon his bed,

He had strange things which troubled his head,

He saw seven well fed kine rise out of Neal,

And seven lean ones eat them in a meal.

Again he saw seven ears of corn that stood

Upon one stalk, and were both rank and good:

Yet these were eaten up as the kine before,

By seven ears very lean and poor.

What this imported Pharoah fain would know,

But none there were that could the meaning show.

This to the Butler's mind poor Joseph brought,

Who till this day of him had never thought.

Great Prince! I call to mind my faults this day,

And well remember when in gaol I lay,

I and the Baker each our dreams did tell,

Which a young Hebrew slave expounded well:

I was advanc'd and executed he,

Both which the Hebrew servant said should be.

Go, said the King, and bring him hither strait,

I for his coming with impatience wait.

Joseph was put in hastily no doubt,

And now more hastily was he brought out.

His prison garment now aside was laid,

And being shav'd was with new cloaths array'd;

To Pharaoh being brought, canst thou, said he,

The dream I've dream'd expound me?

'Tis not me, great Sir, Joseph reply'd,

To say that I could do't were too much pride,

And so 'twould be for any that doth live,

But God to Pharaoh will an answer give.

Then Pharaoh did at large his dreams relate,

And Joseph shew'd him Egypt's future fate.

Seven years of plenty should to Egypt come,

In which they scarce could get their harvests in.

Which by seven years of dearth eat up should be;

As were the fair kine by the lean he see.

For FAMINE Sir, said he, provide therefore,

And in the years of PLENTY lay up store.

What Joseph said, seem'd good in Pharoh's eyes,

Who did esteem him of all men most wise:

Since God, said Pharoah has shewn this to thee,

Thou shalt thro' all the land be next to me.

Then made him second in his chariot ride,

And bow the knee before him all men cry'd.

JOSEPH'S BRETHEREN COME INTO EGYPT TO BUY CORN.

Now Joseph's Lord of Egypt, all things there

Are by the King committed to his care:

The plenteous years come on as Joseph told,

The earth produces more than barns can hold:

New store-houses were in each city made,

Where all the corn about it up was laid,

Till he had gotten such a numerous store,

That it was vain to count it any more.

But famine does to plenty next succeed,

And in all lands but Egypt there was need;

For they neglecting to lay up such store,

Had spent their Stock, and soon became so poor,

That in the land of Egypt there was bread,

By fame's loud trump, thro' every land was spread.

Old Jacob heard it, and to his sons thus said.

Why look you thus, as if you was afraid?

There's Corn in Egypt, therefore go and try,

That we may eat and live, not starve and die.

[Illustration]

Joseph's ten bretheren straitway thither went,

Their corn in Canaan being almost spent.

This Joseph knew, for him they came before,

As being Lord of all the Egyptian store;

And as they came to him did each one bow,

But little thought he'd been the Dreamer now.

From whence came you? said Joseph as they stood,

My Lord say they from Canaan to buy food.

I don't believe it, said Joseph very high,

I rather think you came the land to spy,

That you abroad its nakedness may tell,

Come, come, I know your purpose very well;

Let not, say they, my Lord, his servants blame,

For only to buy food thy servants came.

Said Joseph sternly, Tell me not those lies,

For by the life of Pharaoh ye are spies.

We are twelve bretheren, sir, they then reply'd,

Sons of one man, of whom one long since dy'd:

And with our father we the youngest left,

So that he might not be of him bereft.

Hereby said Joseph 'twill be prov'd I trow,

Whether what I have said be true or now.

Your younger brother fetch, make no replies,

For if you don't, by Pharoah's life ye are spies.

On this they unto prison all were brought,

Where how they us'd their brother oft they thought.

When they in prison three days time had staid,

He sent for them and this proposal made,

They to their father should the corn convey,

And Simeon should with him a prisoner stay;

Until they brought their youngest brother there,

Which should to him their innocence declare.

This they agreed to, and were sent away,

Whilst Simeon did behind in prison stay.

BENJAMIN BROUGHT TO JOSEPH.

Old Jacob's sons came back to him, report,

How they were us'd at the Egyptian court:

Taken for spies, and Simeon left behind,

Till Benjamin shall make the man more kind.

This news old Jacob griev'd unto the heart,

Who by no means with Benjamin would part;

But when the want of corn did pinch them sore,

And they were urg'd to go again for more;

They told their father they were fully bent,

To go no more except their brother went.

Then take your brother and arise and go,

Said good old Jacob, and the man will show

You favour, that you may all safe return,

And I no more my children's loss may mourn.

Then taking money and rich presents too,

To Joseph they their younger brother shew.

Then he his steward straitway did enjoin

To bring those men to his house with him to dine.

When Joseph came, he kindly to them spake,

When they to him did low obeysance make,

He ask'd their welfare, and desir'd to tell

Whether their father was alive and well.

They answer'd Yea, he did in health remain,

And to the ground bow'd down their heads again.

[Illustration]

Then Benjamin he by the hand did take,

And said, Is this the youth of whom ye spake,

Then God be gracious unto thee my son,

To whom he said; which when as soon as done,

Into his chamber strait he went to weep,

For he his countenance could hardly keep.

Then coming out, and sitting down to meet,

He made his bretheren all sit down to eat:

He sent to each a mess of what was best,

But Benjamin's was larger than the rest.

Then what he further did design to do,

He call'd his servant, and to him did shew;

Put in each sack as much corn as they'll hold,

And in the mouth of each return his gold,

And see that you take my silver cup,

And in the sack of the youngest put it up.

The steward fill'd the sack as he was bid,

And in the mouth of each their money hid.

Then on the morrow morning merry hearted

With this their good success they all departed;

But Joseph's steward quickly spoil'd their laughter,

Who by his master's orders strait went after,

And to the eleven brethren thus he spake,

Is this the return you to my master make?

Could you not be contented with the wine,

But steal the Cup in which he does divine?

This is unkind. And therefore I must say

You've acted very foolishly to day.

JOSEPH MAKES HIMSELF KNOWN TO HIS BRETHEREN.

[Illustration]

The steward's words put them into a fright,

They wonder'd at his speech, as well they might

Why does my Lord this charge against us bring;

For God forbid we e'er should do this thing:

The money that within our sacks we found,

We brought from Canaan; then what ground

Have you to think, or to suppose that we

Of such a crime as this should guilty be.

With whatsoever man this cup is found,

Both let him die, and we'll be also bound

As slaves unto my Lord. Let it so be,

Reply'd the steward, we shall quickly see

Whether it is so or not; then down they took[1]

And when the steward he had search'd them round,

Within the sack of Benjamin the cup was found.

To Joseph therefore they straitway repair,

To whom he said as soon as they came there,

How durst you take this silver cup of mine

Did you not think that I could well divine?

To whom Judah said, My Lord we've nought to say

But at your feet as slaves ourselves we lay.

No, no, said Joseph, there's for that no ground,

He is my slave with whom the cup is found.

Then Judah unto Joseph drew more near,

And said, O let my Lord and Master hear:

If we without the lad should back return,

Our father would for ever grieve and mourn,

And his grey hairs with sorrows we should bring

Unto the grave, if we should do this thing;

For when your servants father would at home

Have kept the lad, I begg'd that he might come,

And said, If I return him not to thee,

Then let the blame for ever lay on me.

Now therefore let him back return again,

And in his stead thy servant will remain,

And how shall I that piercing sight endure,

Which will I know my father's death procure.

This speech of Judah touch'd good Joseph so,

That he bid all his servants out to go.

He and his brethren being all alone,

He unto them himself did thus make known.

I am Joseph:--Is my father alive?

But to return an answer none did strive;

For at his presence they were troubled all,

Which made him thus unto his brethren call,

I am your brother Joseph, him whom ye }

To Egypt sold; but do not troubled be; }

For what you did heaven did before decree. }

Then he his brother Benjamin did kiss,

Wept on his neck, and so did he on his,

Then kist his bretheren, wept on them likewise,

So that among them there were no dry eyes.

[Footnote 1: Here seems a line missing.]

JOSEPH SENDS FOR HIS FATHER WHO COMES TO EGYPT.

[Illustration]

Then Joseph to his bretheren thus did say, }

Unto my father pray make haste away, }

Take food and waggons here, and do not stay, }

They went, and Jacob's spirits did revive,

To hear his dearest Joseph was alive,

It is enough, then did old Jacob cry,

I'll go and see my Joseph e'er I die;

And he had reason for resolving so,

For God appear'd to him and bid him go.

Then into Egypt Jacob went with speed,

Both he, his wives, his sons, and all their seed.

And being for the land of Goshen bent,

Joseph himself before him did present.

Great was their Joy they on that meeting shew'd,

And each the others cheeks with tears bedew'd.

Then Joseph did his aged father bring

Into the royal presence of the King,

Whom Jacob blest, and Pharaoh lik'd him well,

And bid him in the land of Goshen dwell.

JACOB'S DEATH AND BURIAL.

[Illustration]

Jacob now having finished his last stage,

And come to the end of earthly pilgrimage.

Was visited by his son Joseph, who

Brought with him Ephraim and Manassah too.

When Jacob saw them, who are these said he?

The sons said Joseph, God has given me

Then Jacob blest them both, and his sons did call,

To shew to each what should to them befal.

Then giving orders unto Joseph where

He would be buried, left to him that care;

Then yielded up the ghost upon his bed

And to his people he was gathered.

Then Joseph for his burial did provide,

And with a numerous retinue did ride,

Of his own children and Egyptians too,

That their respect to Joseph might shew,

And with a mighty mourning did inter

Old Jacob in his fathers sepulchre.

FINIS.

THE HOLY DISCIPLE;

OR, THE

=History of Joseph of Arimathea.=

Wherein is contained a true Account of his Birth; his Parents; his

Country; his Education; his Piety; and his begging of Pontius Pilate

the Body of our blessed Saviour, after his Crucifixion, which he

buried in a new Sepulchre of his own. Also the Occasion of his coming

to England, where he first preached the Gospel at Glastenbury, in

Somersetshire, where is still growing that noted White Thorn which

buds every Christmas day in the morning, blossoms at Noon, and fades

at Night, on the Place where he pitched his Staff in the Ground. With

a full Relation of his Death and Burial.

TO WHICH IS ADED,

_MEDITATIONS on the BIRTH, LIFE, DEATH, and

RESURRECTION of our LORD and SAVIOUR

JESUS CHRIST_.

[Illustration]

NEWCASTLE: PRINTED IN THIS PRESENT YEAR.

THE HOLY DISCIPLE;

OR, THE

HISTORY OF JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA.

The text of this book is simply an amplification of the title-page,

which is sufficient for its purpose in this work. The legend of his

planting his staff, which produced the famous Glastonbury Thorn, is

very popular and widespread. The writer remembers in the winter of

1879, when living in Herefordshire, on Old Christmas Day (Twelfth

Day), people coming from some distance to see one of these trees

blossom at noon. Unfortunately they were disappointed. Loudon, in his

"Arboretum Britannicum," V. 2, p. 833, says, "_Cratægus præcox_, the

_early_ flowering, or Glastonbury, _Thorn_, comes into leaf in January

or February, and sometimes even in autumn; so that occasionally,

in mild seasons, it may be in flower on Christmas Day. According to

Withering, writing about fifty years ago, this tree does not grow

within the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey, but stands in a lane beyond the

churchyard, and appears to be a very old tree. An old woman of ninety

never remembered it otherwise than it now appears. This tree is

probably now dead; but one said to be a descendant of the tree

which, according to the Romish legend, formed the staff of Joseph of

Arimathea, is still existing within the precincts of the ancient abbey

of Glastonbury. It is not of great age, and may probably have sprung

from the root of the original tree, or from a truncheon of it; but

it maintains the habit of flowering in the winter, which the legend

attributes to its supposed parent. A correspondent (Mr. Callow) sent

us on December 1, 1833, a specimen, gathered on that day, from the

tree at Glastonbury, in full blossom, having on it also ripe fruit;

observing that the tree blossoms again in the month of May following,

and that it is from these later flowers that the fruit is produced.

Mr. Baxter, curator of the Botanic Garden at Oxford, also sent us

a specimen of the Glastonbury Thorn, gathered in that garden on

Christmas Day, 1834, with fully expanded flowers and ripe fruit on the

same branch. Seeds of this variety are said to produce only the common

hawthorn; but we have no doubt that among a number of seedlings there

would, as in similar cases, be found several plants having a tendency

to the same habits as the parent. With regard to the legend, there is

nothing miraculous in the circumstances of a staff, supposing it to

have been of hawthorn, having, when stuck in the ground, taken root

and become a tree; as it is well known that the hawthorn grows from

stakes and truncheons. The miracle of Joseph of Arimathea is nothing

compared with that of Mr. John Wallis, timber surveyor of Chelsea,

author of 'Dendrology,' who exhibited to the Horticultural and Linnæan

Societies, in 1834, a branch of hawthorn, which, he said, had hung for

several years in a hedge among other trees; and, though without any

root, or even touching the earth, had produced, every year, leaves,

flowers, and fruit!"

Of St. Joseph himself, Alban Butler gives a very meagre account,

not even mentioning his death or place of burial; so that, outside

Glastonbury, we may infer he had small reputation. We must not,

however, forget that he is supposed to have brought the Holy Grail

into England.

Wynkyn de Worde printed a book called "The Life of Joseph of Armathy,"

and Pynson printed two--one "De Sancto Joseph ab Arimathia," 1516, and

"The Lyfe of Joseph of Arimathia," 1520.

THE

WANDERING JEW;

OR, THE

SHOEMAKER OF JERUSALEM.

Who lived when our Lord and Saviour

JESUS CHRIST was Crucified,

_And by Him Appointed to Wander until He comes again_.

With his Travels, Method of Living, and a

Discourse with some Clergymen about

the End of the World.

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH-YARD,

BOW LANE, LONDON.

THE WANDERING JEW.

This version is but a catchpenny, and principally consists of a

fanciful dialogue between the Wandering Jew and a clergyman. This

famous myth seems to have had its origin in the Gospel of St. John

(xxi. 22), which, although it does not refer to him, evidently was the

source of the idea of his tarrying on earth until the second coming of

our Saviour. The legend is common to several countries in Europe,

and we, in these latter days, are familiar with it in Dr. Croly's

"Salathiel," "St. Leon," "Le Juif Errant," and "The Undying One." It

is certain it was in existence before the thirteenth century, for it

is given in Roger of Wendover, 1228, as being known; for an Armenian

archbishop, who was then in England, declared that he knew him.

His name is generally received as Cartaphilus, but he was known, in

different countries and ages, also as Ahasuerus, Josephus, and Isaac

Lakedion. The usual legend is that he was Pontius Pilate's porter, and

when they were dragging Jesus out of the door of the judgment-hall,

he struck him on the back with his fist, saying, "Go faster, Jesus, go

faster: why dost thou linger?" Upon which Jesus looked at him with

a frown, and said, "I, indeed, am going; but thou shalt tarry till I

come." He was afterwards converted and baptized by the name of Joseph.

He is believed every hundred years to have an illness, ending in

a trance, from which he awakes restored to the age he was at our

Saviour's Crucifixion. Many impostors in various countries have

personated him.

THE

GOSPEL OF

NICODEMUS.

_In thirteen Chapters._

1. Jesus Accused of the Jews before Pilate.

2. Some of them spake for him.

3. Pilate takes Counsel of Ancient Lawyers, etc.

4. Nicodemus speaks to Pilate for Jesus.

5. Certain Jews shew Pilate the Miracles which Christ had done

to some of them.

6. Pilate commands that no villains should put him to his

Passion, but only Knights.

7. Centurio tells Pilate of the Wonders that were done at

Christ's Passion; and of the fine Cloth of Syndonia.

8. The Jews conspire against Nicodemus and Joseph.

9. One of the Knights that kept the Sepulchre of our Lord,

came and told the Master of the Law, that our Lord was gone

into Gallilee.

10. Three men who came from Gallilee to Jerusalem say they saw

Jesus alive.

11. The Jews chuse eight men who were Joseph's friends, to

desire him to come to them.

12. Joseph tells of divers dead Men risen, especially of

Simon's two sons, Garius and Levicius.

13. Nicodemus and Joseph tell Pilate all that those two Men

had said; and how Pilate treated with the Princes of the Law.

NEWCASTLE: PRINTED IN THIS PRESENT YEAR.

This is a translation by John Warren, priest, of this apocryphal

Gospel, of which the frontispiece is a summary, and varies very little

from that given by Hone, who, in his prefatory notice says, "Although

this Gospel is, by some among the learned, supposed to have been

really written by Nicodemus, who became a disciple of Jesus Christ,

and conversed with him; others conjecture it was a forgery towards the

close of the third century, by some zealous believer, who, observing

that there had been appeals made by the Christians of the former

Age, to the Acts of Pilate, but that such Acts could not be produced,

imagined it would be of service to Christianity to fabricate and

publish this Gospel; as it would both confirm the Christians under

persecution, and convince the Heathens of the truth of the Christian

religion.... Whether it be canonical or not, it is of very great

antiquity, and is appealed to by several of the ancient Christians."

Wynkyn de Worde published several editions of it--in 1509, 1511, 1512,

1518, 1532--and his headings of the chapters differ very slightly from

those already given.

The unhappy Birth, wicked Life, and miserable

Death of that vile Traytor and Apostle

JUDAS ISCARIOT,

_Who, for Thirty Pieces of Silver betrayed his Lord and

Master_

_JESUS CHRIST_.

SHEWING

1. His Mother's Dream after Conception, the Manner of his

Birth; and the evident Marks of his future shame.

2. How his Parents, inclosing him in a little chest, threw

him into the Sea, where he was found by a King on the Coast of

Iscariot, who called him by that Name.

3. His advancement to be the King's Privy Counsellor; and how

he unfortunately killed the King's Son.

4. He flies to Joppa; and unknowingly, slew his own Father,

for which he was obliged to abscond a Second Time.

5. Returning a Year after, he married his own Mother, who knew

him to be her own Child, by the particular marks he had, and

by his own Declaration.

6. And lastly, seeming to repent of his wicked Life, he

followed our Blessed Saviour, and became one of his Apostles;

But after betrayed him into the Hands of the Chief Priests for

Thirty Pieces of Silver, and then miserably hanged himself,

whose Bowels dropt out of his Belly.

TO WHICH IS ADDED,

_A Short RELATION of the Sufferings of Our

BLESSED REDEEMER_,

Also the Life and miserable Death of

PONTIUS PILATE,

Who condemn'd the Lord of Life to Death.

_Being collected from the Writings of Josephus Sozomenus,

and other Ecclesiastical Historians._

DURHAM: PRINTED AND SOLD BY ISAAC LANE.

_A Terrible and seasonable Warning to young Men._

Being a very particular and True Relation of one _Abraham Joiner_ a

young Man about 17 or 18 Years of Age, living in _Shakesby's_ Walks in

_Shadwell_, being a Ballast Man by Profession, who on _Saturday_ Night

last pick'd up a leud Woman, and spent what Money he had about him in

Treating her, saying afterwards, if she wou'd have any more he must go

to the Devil for it, and slipping out of her Company, he went to the

_Cock_ and _Lyon_ in _King Street_, the Devil appear'd to him, and

gave him a Pistole, telling him _he shou'd never want for Money_,

appointing to meet him the next Night at the _World's End_ at Stepney;

Also how his Brother perswaded him to throw the Money away, which he

did; but was suddenly taken in a very strange manner; so that they

were fain to send for the Reverend Mr. Constable and other Ministers

to pray with him; he appearing now to be very Penitent; with an

Account of the Prayers and Expressions he makes use of under his

Affliction, and the prayers that were made for him to free him from

this violent Temptation.

The Truth of which is sufficiently attested in the Neighbourhood, he

lying now at his mother's house, etc.

[Illustration]

LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. DUTTON, NEAR FLEET STREET.

THE

_KENTISH MIRACLE_

=Or, a Seasonable Warning to all

Sinners=

SHEWN IN

The Wonderful Relation of one Mary Moore, whose Husband died some time

ago, and left her with two Children, who was reduced to great Want;

How she wandered about the Country asking Relief, and went two Days

without any food. How the Devil appeared to her, and the many great

Offers he made to her to deny Christ, and enter into his Service; and

how she confounded Satan by powerful Arguments. How she came to a

Well of Water, when she fell down on her Knees to pray to God, that he

would give that Vertue to the Water that it might refresh and satisfy

her Children's Hunger; with an Account how an Angel appeared to her

and relieved her; also declared many things that shall happen in the

Month of March next; shewing likewise what strange and surprizing

Accidents shall happen by means of the present War; and concerning a

dreadful Earthquake, etc.

EDINBURGH: PRINTED IN THE YEAR 1741.

THE

=Witch of the Woodlands;=

OR, THE

_COBLER'S NEW TRANSLATION_.

Here Robin the Cobler for his former Evils,

Is punish'd bad as Faustus with his Devils.

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD,

BOW LANE, LONDON.

Here the old Witches dance, and then agree,

How to fit Robin for his Lechery;

First he is made a Fox and hunted on,

'Till he becomes an Horse, an Owl, a Swan.

At length their Spells of Witchcraft they withdrew,

But Robin still more hardships must go through;

For e'er he is transform'd into a Man,

They make him kiss their bums and glad he can.

[Illustration]

This is the argument of the story, which is too broad in its humour

to be reprinted, but the following two illustrations show the popular

idea of his Satanic Majesty and his dealings with witches.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

THE HISTORY OF

DR. JOHN FAUSTUS.

There is very little similarity between this history and Goethe's

beautiful drama. This is essentially vulgar, and perfectly fitted

for the popular taste it catered for; but we, who are familiar with

Goethe's masterpiece, can hardly read it without a shudder. It has

been given at length, because it is a type of its class.

The History of Faust (who, as far as one can learn, existed early

in the sixteenth century) has been repeatedly written, especially

in Germany, where it first appeared in 1587, published at

Frankfurt-on-the-Main, and it was soon translated into English by P.

K. Gent. Marlowe produced his "Tragicall History of D. Faustus" in

1589, and in an entry in the Register of the Stationers' Company

it appears that in the year 1588 "A Ballad of the Life and Death of

Doctor Faustus, the great Congerer," was licensed to be printed,[2] so

that it soon became well rooted in England. It has been a favourite

theme with dramatists and musicians, and has even been the subject of

a harlequinade, "The Necromancer; or Harlequin Dr. Faustus" (London,

1723). It was a popular Chap book, and many versions were published

of it in various parts of the country. J. O. Halliwell Phillips, Esq.,

has an English edition of Faustus printed 1592, unknown to Herbert or

Lowndes.

[Footnote 2: Probably the original of that ballad, "The

Judgment of God shewed upon one J. Faustus Dr. in Divinity,"

of which the British Museum possesses two versions--Rox. II.

235 and (643 m. 10,)/55. the date of both being attributed

1670.]

THE HISTORY

OF

=Dr. John Faustus,=

SHEWING

_How he sold himself to the Devil to have power to do what

he pleased for twenty-four years_.

ALSO

STRANGE THINGS DONE BY HIM AND HIS SERVANT

MEPHISTOPHOLES.

With an Account how the Devil came for him, and tore him in Pieces.

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD

BOW LANE, LONDON.

[Illustration]

THE HISTORY OF

DR. JOHN FAUSTUS.

CHAP. 1.

THE DOCTOR'S BIRTH AND EDUCATION.

Dr. John Faustus was born in Germany: his father was a poor labouring

man, not able to give him any manner of education; but he had a

brother in the country, a rich man, who having no child of his own,

took a great fancy to his nephew, and resolved to make him a scholar.

Accordingly he put him to a grammar school, where he took learning

extraordinary well; and afterwards to the University to study

Divinity. But Faustus, not liking that employment, betook himself to

the study of Necromancy and Conjuration, in which arts he made such

a proficiency, that in a short time none could equal him. However

he studied Divinity so far, that he took his Doctor's Degree in that

faculty; after which he threw the scripture from him, and followed his

own inclinations.

CHAP. 2.

DR. FAUSTUS RAISES THE DEVIL, AND AFTERWARDS MAKES HIM APPEAR AT HIS

OWN HOUSE.

Faustus whose restless mind studied day and night, dressed his

imagination with the wings of an eagle, and endeavoured to fly all

over the world, and see and know the secrets of heaven and earth.

In short he obtained power to command the Devil to appear before him

whenever he pleased.

One day as Dr. Faustus was walking in a wood near Wirtemberg in

Germany, having a friend with him who was desirous to see his art,

and requested him to let him see if he could then and there bring

Mephistopholes before them. The Doctor immediately called, and the

Devil at the first summons made such a hedious noise in the wood as if

heaven and earth were coming together. And after this made a roaring

as if the wood had been full of wild beasts. Then the Doctor made a

Circle for the Devil, which he danced round with a noise like that

of ten thousand waggons running upon paved stones. After this it

thundered and lightened as if the world had been at an end.

[Illustration]

Faustus and his friend, amazed at the noise, and frighted at the

devil's long stay, would have departed; but the Devil cheared them

with such musick, as they never heard before. This so encouraged

Faustus, that he began to command Mephistopholes, in the name of the

prince of Darkness, to appear in his own likeness; on which in an

instant hung over his head a mighty dragon.--Faustus called him again,

as he was used, after which there was a cry in the wood as if Hell had

been opened, and all the tormented souls had been there--Faustus in

the mean time asked the devil many questions, and commanded him to

shew a great many tricks.

CHAP. 3.

MEPHISTOPHOLES COMES TO THE DOCTOR'S HOUSE; AND OF WHAT PASSED BETWEEN

THEM.

Faustus commanded the spirit to meet him at his own house by ten

o'clock the next day. At the hour appointed he came into his chamber,

demanding what he would have? Faustus told him it was his will and

pleasure to conjure him to be obedient to him in all points of these

articles, viz.

First, that the Spirit should serve him in all things he asked, from

that time till death.

Secondly, whosoever he would have, the spirit should bring him.

Thirdly. Whatsoever he desired for to know he should tell him.

[Illustration]

The Spirit told him he had no such power of himself, until he had

acquainted his prince that ruled over him. For, said he, we have

rulers over us, who send us out and call us home when they will; and

we can act no farther than the power we receive from Lucifer, who you

know for his pride was thrust out of heaven. But I can tell you no

more, unless you bind yourself to us--I will have my request replied

Faustus, and yet not be damned with you--Then said the spirit, you

must not, nor shall not have your desire, and yet thou art mine and

all the world cannot save thee from my power. Then get you hence, said

Faustus, and I conjure thee that thou come to me at night again.

Then the spirit vanished, and Doctor Faustus began to consider by

what means he could obtain his desires without binding himself to the

Devil.

[Illustration: This is a rough copy of the frontispiece to Gent's

translation, ed. 1648.]

While Faustus was in these cogitations, night drew on, and then the

spirit appeared, acquainting him that now he had orders from his

prince to be obedient to him, and to do for him what he desired, and

bid him shew what he would have.--Faustus replied, His desire was

to become a Spirit, and that Mephistopholes should always be at his

command; that whenever he pleased he should appear invisible to all

men.--The Spirit answered his request should be granted if he would

sign the articles pronounced to him viz, That Faustus should give

himself over body and soul to Lucifer, deny his Belief, and become an

enemy to all good men; and that the writings should be made with

his own blood.--Faustus agreeing to all this, the Spirit promised he

should have his heart's desire, and the power to turn into any shape,

and have a thousand spirits at command.

CHAP. 4.

FAUSTUS LETS HIMSELF BLOOD, AND MAKES HIMSELF OVER TO THE DEVIL.

The Spirit appearing in the morning to Faustus, told him, That now

he was come to see the writing executed and give him power. Whereupon

Faustus took out a knife, pricked a vein in his left arm, and drew

blood, with which he wrote as follows:

[Illustration]

"I, JOHN FAUSTUS, Doctor in Divinity, do openly acknowlege That in all

my studying of the course of nature and the elements, I could never

attain to my desire; I finding men unable to assist me, have made my

addresses to the Prince of Darkness, and his messenger Mephistopholes,

giving them both soul and body, on condition that they fully execute

my desires; the which they have promised me. I do also further grant

by these presents, that if I be duly served, when and in what place

I command, and have every thing that I ask for during the space of

twenty four years, then I agree that at the expiration of the said

term, you shall do with Me and Mine, Body and Soul, as you please.

Hereby protesting, that I deny God and Christ and all the host of

heaven. And as for the further consideration of this my writing, I

have subscribed it with my own hand, sealed it with my own seal, and

writ it with my own blood.

JOHN FAUSTUS."

No sooner had Faustus sent his name to the writing, but his spirit

Mephistopholes appeared all wrapt in fire, and out of his mouth issued

fire; and in an instant came a pack of hounds in full cry. Afterwards

came a bull dancing before him, then a lion and a bear fighting. All

these and many spectacles more did the Spirit present to the Doctor's

view, concluding with all manner of musick, and some hundreds of

spirits dancing before him.--This being ended, Faustus looking about

saw seven sacks of silver, which he went to dispose of, but could not

handle himself, it was so hot.

[Illustration]

This diversion so pleased Faustus, that he gave Mephistopholes the

writing he had made, and kept a copy of it in his own hands. The

Spirit and Faustus being agreed, they dwelt together, and the devil

was never absent from his councils.

CHAP. 5.

HOW FAUSTUS SERVED THE ELECTORAL DUKE OF BAVARIA.

Faustus having sold his soul to the Devil, it was soon reported among

the neighbours, and no one would keep him company, but his spirit, who

was frequently with him, playing of strange tricks to please him.

Not far from Faustus's house lived the Duke of Bavaria, the Bishop

of Saltzburg, and the Duke of Saxony, whose houses and cellars

Mephistopholes used to visit, and bring from thence the best provision

their houses afforded.

One day the Duke of Bavaria had invited most of the gentry of that

country to dinner, in an instant came Mephistopholes and took all with

him, leaving them full of admiration.

If at any time Faustus had a mind for wild or tame fowl, the Spirit

would call whole flocks in at the window. He also taught Faustus to do

the like so that no locks nor bolts could hinder them.

The devil also taught Faustus to fly in the air, and act many things

that are incredible, and too large for this book to contain.

CHAP. 6.

FAUSTUS DREAM OF HELL, AND WHAT HE SAW THERE.

After Faustus had had a long conference with the Spirit concerning the

fall of Lucifer, the state and condition of the fallen angels, he in a

dream saw Hell and the Devils.

Having seen this sight he marvelled much at it, and having

Mephistopholes on his side, he asked him what sort of people they was

who lay in the first dark pit? Mephistopholes told him they were those

who pretended to be physicians, and had poisoned many thousands in

trying practices; and now said the spirit, they have the very same

administered unto them which they prescribed to others, though not

with the same effect; for here, said he, they are denied the happiness

to die.--Over their heads were long shelves full of vials and

gallipots of poison.

Having passed by them, he came to a long entry exceeding dark, where

was a great crowd: I asked what they were? and the Spirit told me They

were pick pockets, who, because they loved to be in a crowd in the

other world, were also crowded here together. Among these were some

padders on the highway, and others of that function.

Walking farther I saw many thousand vintners and some millions of

taylors; insomuch there was scarce room enough for them in the place

destined for their reception.

A little farther the Spirit opened a cellar door, from which issued

a smoke almost enough to choak me, with a dismal noise; I asked what

they were? and the Spirit told me, They were Witches, such as had been

pretended Saints in the other world, but now having lost their veil,

they squabble, fight and tear one another.

A few steps farther I espied a great number almost hid with smoke;

and I asked who they were? The Spirit told me they were Millers and

bakers; but, good lack! what a noise was there among them! the miller

cried to the baker and the baker to the miller for help, but all in

vain, for there was none that could help them.

Passing on farther I saw thousands of Shop keepers, some of whom I

know, who were tormented for defrauding and cheating their Customers.

Having taken this prospect of Hell, my Spirit Mephistopholes took me

up in his arms, and carried me home to my own house, where I awaked,

amazed at what I had seen in my dream.

Being come to myself I asked Mephistopholes in what place Hell was?

he answered, Know thou that before the Fall, Hell was ordained: As for

the substance or extent of Hell, we Devils do not know it; but it is

the wrath of God that makes it so furious.

CHAP. 7.

DR. FAUSTUS'S TRICK ON TWENTY STUDENTS.

[Illustration]

Thirteen students meeting seven more near Faustus's house, fell to

words, and at length to blows; the thirteen was took hard for the

seven. The Doctor looking out at a window saw the fray, and seeing how

much the Seven were overmatched by the thirteen, he conjured them all

blind, so that they could not see each other; and in this manner they

continued to fight, and so smote each other, as made the public laugh

heartily. At length he parted them, leading them all to their own

homes, where they immediately recovered their sight, to the great

astonishment of all.

CHAP. 8.

FAUSTUS HELPS A YOUNG MAN TO A FAIR LADY.

There was a galant young gentleman that was in love with a fair Lady,

who was of a proper personage, living at Wirtemberg near the Doctors

house. This gentleman had long sought the lady in marriage, but could

not obtain his desire; and having placed his affections so much upon

her, he was ready to pine away, and had certainly died with grief,

had he not made his affairs known to the Doctor, to whom he opened the

whole matter. No sooner had the gentleman told his case to the Doctor,

but he bid him not fear, for his desire should be fulfilled, and he

should have her he so much admired, and that the gentlewoman should

love none but him, which was done accordingly; for Faustus so changed

the mind of the damsel, by his practices, that she could think of

nothing else but him, whom she before hated; and Faustus's device was

thus: He gave him an inchanted ring, which he ordered him to slip on

her finger, which he did: and no sooner was it on but her affections

began to change, and her heart burned with love towards him. She

instead of frowns could do nothing else but smile on him, and could

not be at rest till she had asked him if he thought he could love her,

and make her a good husband: he gladly answered yes, and he should

think he was the happiest man alive; so they were married the next

day, and proved a very happy couple.

CHAP. 9.

FAUSTUS MAKES SEVEN WOMEN DANCE NAKED IN THE MARKET.

[Illustration]

Faustus walking in the Market place saw seven jolly women setting all

on a row, selling butter and eggs, of each of them he bought something

and departed; but no sooner was he gone, but all their butter and eggs

were gone out of their baskets, they knew not how. At last they were

told that Faustus had conjured all their goods away; whereupon they

ran in haste to the Doctor's house, and demanded satisfaction for

their wares.--He resolved to make sport for the townspeople; made them

pull off all their cloaths, and dance naked to their baskets; where

every one saw their goods safe, and found herself in a humour to put

her cloaths on again.

CHAP. 10.

HOW FAUSTUS SERVED A COUNTRYMAN DRIVING SWINE.

[Illustration]

Faustus, as he was going one day to Wirtemberg, overtook a country

fellow driving a herd of Swine, which was very headstrong, some

running one way and some another way, so that the driver could not

tell how to get them along. Faustus taking notice of it made every one

of them dance upon their hind legs, with a fiddle in one of their fore

feet and a bow in the other, and so dance and fiddle all the way to

Wirtemberg, the countryman dancing all the way before them, which

made the people wonder--After Faustus had satisfied himself with this

sport, he conjured the fiddles away; and the countryman offering his

pigs for sale, soon sold them and got the money; but before he was

gone out of the house, Faustus conjured the pigs out of the market,

and sent them to the countryman's house. The man who had bought them,

seeing the swine gone, stopped the man that sold them, and forced him

to give back the money; on which he returned home very sorrowful, not

knowing what to do; but to his great surprize found all the pigs in

their sties.

CHAP. 11.

FAUSTUS BEGINS TO CONTEMPLATE UPON HIS LATTER END.

Faustus having spun out his twenty four years within a month or two,

began to consider what he could do to cheat the devil, to whom he had

made over both body and soul, but could find no ways to frustrate his

miserable end; which now was drawing near. Whereupon in a miserable

tone he cried out, O lamentable wretch that I am! I have given

myself to the devil for a few years pleasure to gratify my Carnal

and devilish appetites, and now I must pay full dear; Now I must have

torment without end. Woe is me, for there is none to help me; I dare

not, I cannot look for mercy from God, for I have abandoned him; I

have denied him to be my God, and given up myself to the Devil to

be his for ever; and now the time is almost expired, and I must be

tormented for ever and ever.

CHAP. 12.

FAUSTUS WARNED BY THE SPIRIT TO PREPARE FOR HIS END.

[Illustration]

Faustus's full time being come, the Spirit appeared to him, and shewed

him the writings, and told him that the next day the Devil would fetch

him away. This made the Doctor's heart to ache; but to divert himself

he sent for some Doctors, Masters and Batchelors of Arts, and other

students to dine with him for whom he provided a great store of

varieties, with musick and the like; but all would not keep up his

spirits, for his hour drew near--Whereupon his countenance changing,

the doctors asked the reason of his confusion? To which Faustus

answered, O! my friends, you have known me these many years, and that

I practised all manner of wickedness. I have been a great conjuror,

which art I obtained of the devil; selling myself to him soul and

body, for the term of twenty four years; which time expiring to night,

is the cause of my sorrow; I have called you, my friends, to see my

miserable end; and I pray let my fate be a warning to you all, not to

attempt to search farther into the secrets of nature than is permitted

to be known to man, lest your searches lead you to the Devil, to whom

I must this night go, whether I will or no.

About twelve o'clock at night the house shook so terribly that they

all feared it would have tumbled on their heads, and suddenly the

doors and windows were broke to pieces, and a great hissing was heard

as though the house had been full of snakes; Faustus in the mean time

calling out for help but all in vain. There was a vast roaring in

the hall, as if all the Devils in Hell had been there; and then they

vanished, leaving the hall besprinkled with blood, which was most

terrible to behold.

FINIS.

[Illustration]

THE

HISTORY

Of the Learned

_FRIAR BACON_.

[Illustration]

PRINTED AND SOLD IN ALDERMARY CHURCH YARD,

LONDON.

Roger Bacon was born at Ilchester, Somersetshire, in 1214, and was

educated at Oxford and Paris, where he was made D.D. He seems to have

settled at Oxford about 1240, and entered the order of St. Francis.

He devoted himself body and soul to the study of natural philosophy,

mathematics, and chemistry, and obtained such celebrity by his

discoveries, that they were assigned to evil spirits, and he himself

was branded as a magician. He was confined to his cell and forbidden

to lecture. A copy of his "Opus Majus" being sent to Clement IV. on

his elevation to the Papal chair, he promised his protection, which

continued until his death; when Bacon was more severely persecuted,

his works were prohibited, and he was imprisoned about ten years. When

released, he returned to his beloved Oxford, where he died, June 11,

1292. Why the popular idea of him in after times should be always

associated with the ludicrous, I cannot say, but it is so, even in

Greene's play, "The Honourable Historie of frier Bacon, and frier

Bongay," of which the earliest edition extant is 1594; but it must

have been earlier, for in Henslowe's Diary, under 1591-92, is an

entry, "Rd at fryer bacone, the 19 of febrary satterdaye xvij^s ii^d."

Indeed, every history makes fun about him, and almost all his deeds

are comic. In this book, for instance, the king, being about four

miles from Oxford, naturally desired to see the great philosopher,

and sent a nobleman to bring him. Bacon could not go quietly, but

he caused a great mist to spring up, and the nobleman lost his way;

whilst Bacon was straightway transported into the king's presence,

when at the royal request he waved his wand, and caused beautiful

music to sound. Another wave, and a banquet appeared, of which the

king and queen partook, and then it vanished, leaving the place

sweetly perfumed. "Then waving the fourth time, came in Russians

Persians and Polanders clad with the finest furs and richest silks

in the universe, which he bid them feel; and then the strangers all

dancing after their fashion vanished.... During this, the gentleman

of the bed chamber came in puffing and blowing, all bemired and dirty,

his face and hands scratched with bushes and briars. The King asked

him why he stayed so long and how he came in that condition? Oh! the

plague, said he, take Friar Bacon and all his Devils, they have led

me a dance to the endangering my neck; but the dog is here, I'll

be revenged on him. Then he laid his hand upon his sword; but Bacon

waving his wand, fixed it in the scabbard, that he could not draw it,

saying, I fear not thy anger, thou hadst best be quiet, lest a worse

thing befal thee."

He had a hypocritical servant, who on Good Friday would not take a

bit of bread and a cup of wine when offered by his master, but went

privately to eat a pudding, which, by Bacon's enchantments, stuck

fast in his mouth, in which condition he was found by the friar, who

fastened him by the pudding to the college gate, and there left him to

be exposed to the jeers of the passers-by.

After he had perfected his famous brazen head, which was to speak at

some time or other unknown, within two months after being finished,

and required careful watching, this man Miles had his turn of

guard. When the head uttered the words "Time is," instead of at once

informing his master, he chaffed the head, and it said "Time was." He

still went on bantering, when the head called out, "Time is past," and

then, with a horrible noise, it fell down and broke in pieces. Bacon

and Bungay rushed in, and on questioning Miles he told them the truth,

and was punished by his enraged master with the loss of speech for the

space of two months.

A

=Timely Warning=

_To Rash and Disobedient_

CHILDREN.

Being a strange and wonderful RELATION of a young Gentleman in the

Parish of _Stepheny_ in the Suburbs of _London_, that sold himself

to the Devil for 12 Years to have the Power of being revenged on his

Father and Mother, and how his Time being expired, he lay in a sad and

deplorable Condition to the Amazement of all Spectators.

[Illustration]

EDINBURGH: PRINTED ANNO 1721.

BATEMAN'S TRAGEDY,

OR THE

=Perjured Bride justly rewarded;=

BEING THE

_HISTORY_

OF THE

UNFORTUNATE LOVE

OF

_German's Wife and Young Bateman_.

[Illustration]

NEWCASTLE: PRINTED IN THIS PRESENT YEAR.

The story of this very popular Chap book can be very well epitomized

by the headings of the chapters, which give an excellent idea of the

tale.

CHAPTER I.

How young Bateman, riding through Clifton Town, accidentally

espied fair Isabella, a rich Farmer's Daughter, standing at

her Father's door, and fell in love with her, enquiring who

she was, and his resolution to let her know his passion.