complies with the language of a great many persons, who, for want of
attention and light, would have us put all religion in systems. Whatever
regard I ought to have for many of those persons, I must not be afraid
to say, that there is no system to be made of those truths, which we
ought to learn distinctly by faith, because we must advance nothing
here, but what we receive from the oracle. We must make a system to
explain the effects of the loadstone, the ebbing and flowing of the sea,
the motion of the planets; for that the cause of these effects is not
evidently signified to us, and many may be conceived by us; and to
determine us, we have need of a great number of observations, which by
an exact induction may lead us to a cause that may satisfy all the
phenomena. It is not the same in the truths of religion, we come not at
them by groping, it were to be wished men spoke not of them, but after a
decisive and infallible authority. It is thus we should speak of the
power of demons, and of the commerce they have with men; it is of faith,
that they have power, and that they attack men, and try to seduce them
divers ways. It is true, indeed, they are sometimes permitted to have it
over the just, though they have it not ordinarily, but over those that
want faith, or fear not to partake of their works; and that to the last
particularly, the disordered intelligences try to make exactly succeed
what they wish; inspiring them to have recourse to certain practices by
which those seducing spirits enter into commerce with men." Thus far
Father le Brune. But still these objectors demand to know by what means
this commerce may be held between demons and men, and urge us to
describe the manner; or pretend that they have still reason to refuse
coming into the belief of a thing which we would impose upon them,
though wholly ignorant of it ourselves; to that the refuters answer
thus; that both Christian divines and physicians agree as to the manner
how, which they are so curious in inquiring after, that demons stir up
raptures and ecstacies in men, binding or loosing the exterior senses,
and that either by stopping the pores of the brain, so that the spirits
cannot pass forth, as it is done naturally by sleep, or by recalling the
sensitive spirits from the outward senses to the inward organs, which he
there retains; so the Devil renders women witches ecstatical and
magicians, who while they lie fast asleep in one place, think they have
been in divers places, and done many things. This the learned objectors
say proceeds from no demon, but from the disease called an epilepsy;
but, on the other hand, the more learned refuters insist upon it, that
these ecstacies are not epileptic seizures; this, say they, appears from
Bodin, in his Theatre of Universal Nature, where he says, That those who
are wrapped by the Devil, feel neither stripes nor cuttings, nor no
wresting of their limbs, nor burning tortures, nor the application of a
red hot iron; nay, nor is the beat of the pulse, nor the motion of the
heart perceived in them; but afterwards, returning to themselves, they
feel most bitter pains of the wounds received, and tell of things done
at six hundred miles' distance, and affirm themselves to have seen them
done. The ingenious Dr. Ader, makes an admirable physical distinction
between this kind of ecstacy and a syncope, or stupor caused by narcotic
medicines. Sennertus, in his Institutio Medica, writes of the demoniacal
sopor of witches, who think they are carried through the air, dance,
feast, and have copulation with the devil, and do other things in their
sleep, and afterwards believe the same things waking. Now, he says,
whether they are really so carried in the air, &c., or being in a
profound sleep, or only dream they are so carried, and persist in that
opinion after they are awake, these facts or dreams cannot be natural;
for it cannot be that there should be so great an agreement in dreams,
of persons differing in place, temperament, age, sex, and studies, that
in one night, and at the same hour, they should, in concert, dream of
one and the same such meeting, and should agree as to the place, number,
and quality of the persons, and the like circumstances; but such dreams
are suggested from a preternatural cause, viz., from the devil to his
confederate, by the divine permission of an Almighty power, where
punishments are to be permitted to be inflicted upon reprobate sinners.
Whence also, to those witches, sincerely converted, and refusing to be
any more present at those diabolical meetings, those dreams no longer
happen, which is a proof that they proceeded not before from a natural
cause.
Here begins the great point of the dispute as to that branch of magic
which we call natural magic. The objectors may tell us, that they will
freely own that there may be an existence of spirits, that there may be
an existence of witches, that by a divine power men may be influenced so
far as to have a communication with good spirits, and that from thence
they may become spiritual-divine magicians, they will likewise, perhaps,
as freely grant, that by the intervention of a demon, things
preternatural may be brought about by persons who have studied the
demoniacal magic; but then what they principally insist upon is, that it
must be contradictory to all human reason to imagine that there can be
such a thing as natural magicians; and thus far they may form their
argument. They say, that the persons, who contend for the magic art,
own, that all that is brought about by magic, is by the assistance and
help of a spirit, and that consequently what is effected by it must be
preternatural; now, they say, it is a thing inconsistent, by a natural
power, to bring about a preternatural effect; therefore, there can be no
such thing as natural magic, which has within itself the efficacy of
destroying those acts done by magicians in the diabolical.
To this the refuters take leave to reply, that the foundation upon which
the argument is built is wrong grounded; they have admitted that, in
diabolical art magic, there may be a commerce held between men and
spirits, by which several preternatural effects may be brought about;
and the reason they assign for it there is, because there is a
preternatural agent concerned therein, the devil; but then, say they, in
natural magic you can pretend to no such agent, and therefore to no such
preternatural effect. This argument contains within it two fallacies;
first, as to the commerce held between a man and a demon, there is
nothing preternatural in getting the acquaintance; the will of the man
is entirely natural, either naturally good, or naturally corrupted; the
black spirit that converseth with him, it is acknowledged is not so, but
it is from the will of the man, not from the power vested in the devil,
that the acquaintance first grows, therefore the acquaintance itself is
natural, though it arises from the last corruption and depravations of
nature; but being made with a preternatural existence, though the cause
of the acquaintance be corruptedly natural, yet the intermediate cause
or means after that acquaintance is not so, and therefore the effect of
that intermediate cause may be wonderful, and seem to be out of the
ordinary course of nature. Now, since it is generally allowed that there
are natural spirits of the elements, as well as divine and infernal,
what we have to prove is only this, that man by natural magic may have a
commerce with natural spirits of their elements, as witches may have
with the spirits or demons. Now, as we said before, the commerce itself
depends upon the will of the person, and is therefore natural, and
consequently may as well subsist between the one as the other; for the
devil cannot force a man to hold a commerce with him whether he will or
no. The second fallacy is calling the effect preternatural, no otherwise
than as it connotates the agent that brought it about, which is a
spiritual agent; for the effect is, in itself considered, natural, and
brought about by second causes that are natural, by the devil's
penetration, who is subtle enough to make use of them for such and such
ends. Now men, by natural spirits, which are of a faculty thoroughly
subtle, may as well with natural second causes compass the remedy of an
evil spirit, as the devil is able to infect men with it. From these
speculations a farther plain consequence may be deduced, how a man may,
by the pure force of natural magic, cure a person that is infested with
evils by a demon; for how is it that a demon infests anybody with his
evil motions? It is true, he is a preternatural agent, but the evil
effect he does is brought about by natural causes. For how does a demon
stir up raptures or ecstacies in men? Why he does it, as we are told
above, by binding or loosing the exterior senses, by stopping the pores
of the brain, so that the spirits cannot pass forth; and this the art of
physic can compass by its drugs, and sleep causes the same thing very
naturally of itself; therefore, as the evil itself is natural, the
remedy, that is natural, will certainly overcome it. But then, say you,
why cannot those persons be cured by physicians? I answer, not because
their remedies are not in themselves sufficient to cure the evils
themselves, but because generally physicians do not administer their
drugs as Christians, but as physicians; and when they prescribe them to
the sick they generally prescribe to them only purely considered as
patients, not as Christians, and therein they come to fail; because the
agent, the devil, is a subtle spirit, that brings the evil, and alters
its situation before the remedy, which would master it otherwise, can
take any effect; which agent, the devil, is employed by the horrible and
impious faith of the antiphysician, viz., the black magician; but if the
physician would act the Christian at the same time, so far as to have a
faith that things ordained in the course of nature for the good of man,
would have its effects in spite of a devil, if taken with a good faith
by the patient; that all good things ordained to be for the natural
recovery of men, if they took it with thankfulness to the sender, would
have due effect; why then the natural spirits of the elements would
resist the farther agency of the demoniacal spirit, and then nothing but
the natural evil, caused at first by the demon, remaining in the person,
without the farther superintendency of the demon, might demonstratively
be taken away by the mere natural remedy or medicine. And thus good and
pious physicians, making use of such proper remedies as their skill
teaches them, and having an honest faith, that the goods of nature
intended for the use and benefit of man, if received by the patient with
the same good faith, is above the power of the devil to frustrate, may
not improperly be called natural magicians. These arguments of mine I
shall now take leave to back by experience.
Besides, what we have urged from reason, concerning the power of natural
magic, we shall only subjoin, that divines themselves hold that natural
magic, and also natural divinations and prophecies, are proved by
quotations from that venerable writ which is their guide; and bring
proofs from the same also, that by natural magic demons are also cast
forth, but not all kinds of demons, and so many works of efficacy are
wrought by natural magic: they tell you, such was the Pythonissa that
raised the apparition to Saul, which appeared in a body of wind and air.
Thus, if a person by natural magic should cast out demons, it does not
follow that this was also from divine magic; and if demons are cast out
by natural magic, by one that is in the fear of God, it does not follow
that he is a true magician of God; but if it exorbitates to demoniacal,
then it is condemned: and when natural magic keeps within its bounds,
the divines tell us it is not condemned in the venerable book, which is
the Christian's sure guide. But, inasmuch as the lawfulness even of
natural magic has been called in question by others, I shall, in an
Appendix joined to this treatise, examine that matter, both according to
the reasons of our English laws, and according to the best stated rules
of casuistry that I am a master of; still submitting my judgment to the
superior judgment of those who are professed divines and lawyers; and if
my opinions prove erroneous, I am willing to retract them; and
therefore, in this place, there remains nothing farther for me to do,
but only, as I have shown, on the one hand, how natural magic, and its
powerful operations, are proved by reason, to show, on the other hand,
how far reason in these cases is likewise backed and supported by
well-evidenced practice, and notorious experience. And to do this, after
having mentioned one memorable instance, which I refer the reader to in
the body of the book, concerning the performances of Mr. Greatrix, to
which a Lord Orrery was a witness, in Ireland; I shall, to avoid
prolixity, bring the other testimonials of practice, from the success
which our Duncan Campbell himself has had in this way on other
occasions.
In the year 1713, lived in Fenchurch-street, one Mr. Coates, a
tobacco-merchant, who had been for many years sorely tormented in his
body, and had had recourse for a cure to all the most eminent physicians
of the age, even up to the great Dr. Ratcliff himself; but all this
mighty application for relief was still in vain; each doctor owned him a
wonder and a mystery to physic, and left him as much a wonder as they
found him. Neither could the professors of surgery guess at his ailment,
or resolve the riddle of his distemper; and after having spent, from
first to last, above a thousand pounds in search of proper remedies,
they found the search ineffectual; the learned all agreed that it could
proceed from nothing else than witchcraft; they had now indeed guessed
the source of his illness, but it was an illness of such a kind that,
when they had found it out, they thought themselves not the proper
persons to prescribe to him any remedies. That task was reserved, it
seems, for our Duncan Campbell, who, upon somebody's information or
other, was sent for to the bewitched patient Mr. Coates, who found him
the wonder that the others had left him, but did wonders in undertaking
and compassing his cure. I remember, one of the ingredients made use of
was boiling his own water, but I cannot tell how it was used; and, upon
turning over the books of some great physicians since, I have found,
that they themselves have formerly delivered that as one part of the
prescriptions for the cure of patients in like cases. But as there are
other things which Mr. Campbell performs, that seem to require a mixture
of the second-sight, and of this natural magic, before they can be
brought about, I will entertain the reader with one or two passages of
that sort likewise, and so conclude the history of this so singular a
man's life and adventures.
In the year 1710, a gentlewoman lost about six pounds' worth of Flanders
lace, and inasmuch as it was a present made to her husband, she was
concerned as much as if it had been of twenty times the value; and a
lady of her acquaintance coming to visit her, to whom she unfolded,
among other things in discourse, this little disaster, the lady,
smiling, replied with this question, Did you never hear, madam, of Mr.
Duncan Campbell? It is but making your application to him, things that
are lost are immediately found; the power of his knowledge exceeds even
the power of laws; they but restrain, and frighten, and punish robbers,
but he makes thieves expiate their guilt by the more virtuous way of
turning restorers of the goods they have stolen. Madam, rejoined the
losing gentlewoman, you smile when you tell me this; but really, as much
a trifle as it is, since it was a present to my husband, I cannot help
being sensibly concerned at it, a moment's disappointment to him in the
least thing in nature, creates in me a greater uneasiness than the
greatest disappointment to my single self could do in things of moment
and importance. What makes me smile, said the lady, when I speak of it,
or think of it, is the oddness and peculiarity of this man's talent in
helping one to such things; but, without the least jest, I assure you,
that I know, by experience, these things come within the compass of his
knowledge; and I must seriously tell you, for your farther satisfaction,
that he has helped me, and several of my friends, to the finding again
things lost, which were of great value. And is this, without laughing,
true? said the losing fair, very gravely and demurely, like a person
half believing, and desirous to be fully confirmed in such a belief. The
lady she advised with did then ascertain her of the truth of the matter,
alleging that, for a single half-guinea, he would inform her of her
things, and describe the person that conveyed them away. No sooner was
this gentlewoman convinced, but she was eager for the trial; solicited
her friend to conduct her to Mr. Campbell, and, upon the first word of
consent, she was hooded and scarfed immediately, and they coached it
away in a trice to Mr. Campbell's house, whom they luckily found within.
The ladies had not been long seated before he wrote down the name of
this new client of his, exactly as it was, viz., Mrs. Saxon. Then she
was in good hopes, and with much confidence propounded to him the
question about the lace. He paused but a very little while upon the
matter, before he described the person that took it, and satisfied her
that in two or three days she would be mistress of her lace again, and
find it in some book, or corner of her room. She presented him a
half-guinea, and was very contentedly going away, but Mr. Campbell very
kindly stopped her, and signified to her, that, if she had no more to
offer to him, he had something of more importance to reveal to her. She
sat full of expectation while he wrote this new matter; and the paper he
delivered to her contained the following account: As for the loss of a
little bit of lace, it is a mere trifle; you have lost a great many
hundreds of pounds, which your aunt (naming her name) left you, but you
are bubbled out of that large sum. For while you was artfully required
down stairs about some pretended business or other, one Mr. H--tt--n,
conveyed your aunt's Will out of the desk, and several other things of
value; and writing down the names of all the persons concerned, which
put Mrs. Saxon in a great consternation, he concluded this paper, with
bidding her go home with a contented mind, she should find her lace in a
few days; and as she found that prediction proved true, she should
afterwards come and consult about the rest.
When she came home, it seems, big at first with the thoughts of what she
had been told, she rifled and ransacked every corner, but no lace was to
be met with; all the next day she hunted in the like manner, but
frightened the whole time as if she thought the devil was the only
person could bring it, but all to no purpose; the third day her
curiosity abated, she gave over the hopes of it, and took the prediction
as a vain delusion, and that what she gave for it was only more money
thrown away after what had been lost before. That very day, as it
commonly happens in such cases, when she least dreamt of it, she lighted
on it by accident and surprise. She ran with it in her hand immediately
to her husband, and now she had recovered it again, told him of the loss
of it, and the whole story of her having been at Mr. Campbell's about
it; and then, amplifying the discourse about what he had told her
besides, as to more considerable affairs, she said she resolved to go
and consult him a little farther about them, and begged her husband to
accompany her. He would fain have laughed her out of that opinion and
intent, but the end was, she persuaded him into it, and prevailed upon
him to seem at least very serious about the matter, and go with her to
the oracle, assuring him there was no room for doubting the same
success.
Well, to Mr. Campbell's they accordingly came; and after Mr. Saxon, in
deference to his wife's desire, had paid our predictor a handsome
complement of gold, Mr. Duncan Campbell saluted him in as grateful a
manner, with the assurance that there was in Kent a little country
house, with some lands appertaining to it, that was his in right of his
wife; that he had the house, as it were, before his eyes, that though he
had never substantially seen it, nor been near the place where it stood,
he had seen it figuratively as if in exact painting and sculpture; that
particularly it had four green trees before the door, from whence he was
positive, that if Mr. Saxon went with him in quest of it, he should find
it out, and know it as well the moment he come near it, as if he had
been an inhabitant in it all his life.
Mr. Saxon, though somewhat of an unbeliever, yet must naturally wish to
find it true, you may be sure, and yet partly doubting the event, and
partly pleased with the visionary promise of a fortune he never
expected, laughed very heartily at the oddness of the adventure, and
said he would consider whether it would not savour too much of
Quixotism, to be at the expense of a journey on such frolics, and on
such a chimerical foundation of airy hopes, and that then he would call
again and let Mr. Campbell know his mind upon that point.
In every company he came into, it served for laughter and diversion;
they all, however, agreed it was worth his while, since the journey
would not be very expensive, to go it by way of frolic. His wife, one
morning, saying that she did remember some talk of a house, and such
things as Mr. Campbell had described, put him forward upon the
adventure; and upon Mr. Saxon's proposing it to his brother Barnard, Mr.
Barnard favoured the proposal as a joke, and agreed upon the country
ramble. They came on horseback to Mr. Campbell's with a third horse, on
which the dumb predictor was mounted, and so on they jogged into Kent,
towards Sevenoaks, being the place which he described. The first day
they set out was on a Saturday morning in June, and about five that
afternoon they arrived at the Black Bull, at Sevenoaks, in Kent. It
being a delicate evening, they took an agreeable walk up a fine hill,
gracefully adorned with woods, to an old seat of the Earl of Dorset.
Meeting by the way with an old servant of the earl, one Perkin, he
offered Mr. Barnard, who it seems was his old acquaintance, to give them
all a sight of the fine ancient seat.
After they had pleased themselves with viewing the antique nobility of
that stately structure, this Perkin went back with them to their inn,
the Bull, at Sevenoaks. They that could talk, were very merry in chat;
and the dumb gentleman, who saw them laugh and wear all the signs of
alacrity in their countenances, was resolved not to be behind with their
tongues, and by dint of pen, ink, and paper, that he made signs should
be brought in, was resolved, if one might be said to crack without
noise, to crack his jest as well as the best of them; for it may be
truly said of him, that he seldom comes into any, even diverting
company, where he is not the most diverting man there, and the head,
though we cannot call him the mouth, of the cheerful society. After
having eyed this Perkin a little, and being grown, by his art, as we may
suppose, as familiar with the man's humour as if he had known him as
many years as Mr. Barnard, Pray, Mr. Barnard, quoth he, in writing, how
comes it, you, that are so stanch and so stiff a whig, should be so
acquainted and so particularly familiar with such an old Papist, and so
violent a Jacobite, as I know that Mr. Perkin (whom I never saw nor had
any notice of in my life) to be? And pray, replied Mr. Barnard, what
reason have you beyond a pun to take him for a Jacobite? Must he be so
because his name is Perkin? I do assure you, in this you show yourself
but little of a conjurer; if you can tell no more of houses than you do
of men, we may give over the search after the house you spoke of. (Here
the reader must understand they discoursed on their fingers, and wrote
by turns.) Mr. Campbell replied, seriously, Laying a wager is no
argument in other things, I own, but in this I know it is, because I am
sure, after we have laid the wager, he will fairly confess it among
friends, since it will go no farther; and I, said Mr. Campbell, will lay
what wager you will apiece with you all round. Hereupon, Mr. Barnard,
who had known him a great many years, was the first that laid, and many
more, to the number of five or six, followed his example; the decision
of the matter was deferred till next day at the return of the old man to
the inn, they being about to break up that night and go to bed.
The next day being Sunday, the landlord carried his guests to see the
country, and after a handsome walk, they came through the churchyard.
They were poring upon the tombs; no delight can be greater to Mr.
Campbell than that; and really, by the frequent walks he usually takes
in Westminster abbey, and the churchyards adjacent to this metropolis,
one would imagine he takes delight to stalk along by himself on that
dumb silent ground, where the characters of the persons are only to be
known, as his own meaning is, by writings and inscriptions on the
marble. When they had sufficiently surveyed the churchyard, it grew near
dinner-time, and they went homewards; but before they had got many yards
out of the churchyard, Mr. Campbell makes a full stop, pointing up to a
house, and stopping his friends a little, he pulls out of his pocket a
pencil and paper, and notes down the following words: That, that is the
house my vision presented to me; I could swear it to be the same, I know
it to be the same, I am certain of it. The gentlemen with him remarked
it, would not take any farther notice at that time intending to inquire
into it with secrecy, and so went on to the inn to dinner.
As merry as they had been the night before after supper, they were
still more innocently cheerful this day after dinner, till the time of
service begun. When the duty of the day was performed and over, they
returned to divert and unbend their minds with pleasant but harmless
conversation. I suppose nobody but a set of very great formalists will
be offended with scandal or scruples, that to travellers just ready to
depart the town, Mr. Perkin came on that good day and decided the
wagers, by owning to all the company, secrecy being first enjoined, that
he was a Roman Catholic, though nobody of the family knew it in so many
years as he had lived there, which was before Mr. Campbell was born.
This and other innocent speeches afforded as much cheerfulness as the
Lord's-day would allow of.
On the next day, being Monday, they sent for one Mr. Toland Toler, an
attorney of the place, to find out to whom that house belonged, but by
all the inquiry that could possibly be made with convenient secrecy,
nobody could find it out for a long time; but at last it came to light
and appeared to be justly to a tittle as Mr. Campbell had predicted.
Being now satisfied, the next day our three travellers returned for
London; and the two vocal men were very jocular upon their adventure,
and by their outward gesticulations gave the prophetical mute his share
of diversion. Mr. Barnard, as they passed into a farmhouse-yard,
remarked that all the hogs fell a grunting and squeaking more and more
as Mr. Campbell came nearer, (who, poor man! could know nothing of the
jest, nor the cause of it, till they alighted and told it him by signs
and writing,) said to Mr. Saxon, laughing, Now we have found out our
house, we shall have only Mr. Campbell home again by himself--we have no
farther need of the devil that accompanied him to the country, up to
town with us, there are other devils enow to be met with there he knows;
and so this, according to the fashion of his predecessor devils, is
entered into the herd of swine.
However, the event of this journey, to cut the story short, procured Mr.
Saxon a great insight, upon inquiry, into several affairs belonging to
him, of which he would otherwise have had no knowledge; and he is now
engaged in a chancery suit to do himself justice, and in a fair way of
recovering great sums of money, which, without the consultation he had
with this dumb gentleman, he had in all likelihood never dreamt of.
In the year 1711, a gentleman, whose name shall be, in this place,
Amandus, famed for his exquisite talents in all arts and sciences, but
particularly for his gentlemanlike and entertaining manner of
conversation, whose company was affected by all men of wit, who grew his
friends, and courted by all ladies of an elegant taste, who grew his
admirers; this accomplished gentleman, I say, came to Mr. Campbell, in
order to propound a question to him, which was so very intricate, and so
difficult to answer, that, if he did answer it, it might administer to
himself and the ladies he brought with him, the pleasure of admiration
in seeing a thing so wonderful in itself performed; or, on the other
hand, if he did not make a satisfactory reply to it, then it might
afford him and the ladies a very great delight, in being the first that
puzzled a man who had had the reputation for so many years of being
capable of baffling all the wittiest devices and shrewd stratagems that
had been from time to time invented to baffle his skill and explode his
penetration in the second-sight, and the arts which he pretended to. The
persons whom Amandus brought with him, were the illustrious Lady
Delphina, distinguished for her great quality, but still more celebrated
for her beauty, his own lady, the admired Amabella, and a young blooming
pretty virgin whom we will call by the name of Adeodata, about which
last lady, the question was to be put to Mr. Campbell. Adeodata, it
seems, was the natural daughter of this very fine gentleman, who had
never let her into the knowledge of her own birth, but had bred her up
from her infancy under a borrowed name, in the notion that she was a
relation's daughter, and recommended to his care in her infancy. Now the
man that had the second-sight was to be tried; it was now to be put to
the proof if he could tell names or no? Amandus was so much an
unbeliever as to be willing to hazard the discovery. Amabella and
Delphina were strangers to her real name, and asked Duncan Campbell, not
doubting but he would set down that which she ordinarily went by.
Amabella had indeed been told by Amandus, that Adeodata was the natural
daughter of a near friend of his; but who this near friend was remained
a secret: that was the point which lay upon our Duncan Campbell to
discover. When the question was proposed to him, what her name was, he
looked at her very steadfastly, and shook his head, and after some time
he wrote down that it would be a very difficult name for him to fix
upon. And truly so it proved; he toiled for every letter till he
sweated; and the ladies laughed incontinently, imagining that he was in
an agony of shame and confusion at finding himself posed. He desired
Amandus to withdraw a little, for that he could not so well take a full
and proper survey of ladies' faces when a gentleman was by. This
disturbance and perplexity of his afforded them still more subject of
mirth; and that excuse was taken as a pretence, and a put-off to cover
his shame the better, and hide from one at least, that he was but a
downright bungler in what he pretended to be so wonderful an artist.
However, after two hours hard sweat and labour, and viewing the face in
different shades and lights, (for I must observe to the reader that
there is a vast deal of difference, some he can tell in a minute or two
with ease, some not in less than four or five hours, and that with great
trouble) he undeceived them with regard to his capacity. He wrote down
that Adeodata's real name was Amanda, as being the natural daughter of
Amandus. Delphina and Amabella were surprised at the discovery; and
Amandus, when he was called in, owning it a truth, his wife Amabella
applauded the curious way of her coming by such a discovery, when
Adeodata was just marriageable, took a liking to her as if her own
daughter, and everything ended with profit, mirth, and cheerfulness. I
could add a thousand more adventures of Mr. Campbell's life, but that
would prove tedious; and as the town has made a great demand for the
book, it was thought more proper to conclude it here. The most diverting
of all, are to be found best to the life in original letters that passed
between Mr. Campbell and his correspondents, some select ones of which
will be shortly published in a little pocket volume, for the farther
entertainment of such readers as shall relish this treatise; in which
the author hopes he shall be esteemed to have endeavoured at the
intermingling of some curious disquisitions of learning, with
entertaining passages, and to have ended all the merriest passages with
a sober, instructive, and edifying moral, which even to those who are
not willing to believe the stories, is reckoned sufficient to recommend
even fables themselves.
APPENDIX.
It is not that Mr. Duncan Campbell stands in need of my arguments, to
prove that he is in no respect liable to the Acts of Parliament made
against fortuntellers, &c., that I undertake the writing of this
Appendix, the true reason thereof being, the more completely to finish
this undertaking; for having, in the body of the book itself, fully
proved a second-sight, and that the same frequently happens to persons,
some of them eminently remarkable for piety and learning, and have from
thence accounted for the manner of Mr. Campbell's performing those
things he professes, to the great surprise, and no less satisfaction of
all the curious who are pleased to consult him; and at the same time
proved the lawfulness of such his performances from the opinions of some
of the most learned in holy science; I thought it not improper to add
the following short Appendix, being a summary of several acts of
parliament made against fortune-tellers, conjurers, Egyptians,
sorcerers, pretenders to prophecy, &c., with some proper remarks, suited
to our present purpose, as well to satisfy them who are fantastically
wise, and obstinately shut their eyes against the most refulgent reason,
and are wilfully deaf to the most convincing and persuasive arguments,
and thereupon cry out, that Mr. Campbell is either an impostor and a
cheat, or at least a person who acts by the assistance of unlawful
powers; as also to put to silence the no less waspish curs, who are
always snarling at such whom providence has distinguished by more
excellent talents than their neighbours. True merit is always the mark
against which traducers level their keenest darts; and wit and invention
oftentimes join hands with ignorance and malice to foil those who excel.
Art has no greater enemy than ignorance; and were there no such thing as
vice, virtue would not shine with half its lustre. Did Mr. Campbell
perform those wonderful things he is so deservedly famous for, as these
cavillers say, by holding intelligence with infernal powers, or by any
unjustifiable means, I am of opinion he would find very few, in this
atheistical age, who would open their mouths against him, since none
love to act counter to the interest of that master they industriously
serve. And did he, on the other hand, put the cheat upon the world, as
they maliciously assert, I fancy he would then be more generally
admired, especially in a country where the game is so universally,
artfully, and no less profitably played, and that with applause since
those pretenders to wisdom merrily divide the whole species of mankind
into the two classes of knaves and fools, fixing the appellation of
folly only upon those whom they think not wise, that is, wicked enough
to have a share with them in the profitable guilt.
Our laws are as well intended by their wise makers to screen the
innocent, as to punish the guilty; and where their penalties are
remarkably severe, the guilt they punish is of a proportionable size.
Art, which is a man's property, when acquired, claims a protection from
those very laws which false pretenders thereto are to be tried and
punished by, or else all science would soon have an end; for no man
would dare make use of any talent providence had lent him, and his own
industrious application had improved, should he be immediately tried and
condemned by those statutes, which are made to suppress villains, by
every conceited and half-learned pedant.
It is true, indeed, those excellent statutes, which are made against a
sort of people, who pretend to fortune-telling and the like, are such as
are well warranted, as being built upon the best foundation, viz.,
religion and policy; and were Mr. Campbell guilty of any such practice
as those are made to punish, I openly declare, that I should be so far
from endeavouring to defend his cause, that I would be one of the first
that should aggravate his crime, thereby to enforce the speedier
execution of those laws upon him, which are made against such offenders.
But when he is so far from acting, that he doth not even pretend to any
such practice, or for countenancing the same in others, as is manifest
from the many detections he has made of that sort of villany, which the
book furnishes us with, I think myself sufficiently justified for thus
pleading in his defence.
I cannot but take notice, in reading the statutes made against such
offenders, our wise legislature hath not in any part of them seemed so
much as to imply that there are in reality any such wicked persons as
they are made against, to wit, conjurors, &c., but that they are only
pretenders to those infernal arts, as may reasonably be inferred from
the nature of the penalties they inflict; for our first laws of that
sort only inflicted a penalty which affected the goods and liberty of
the guilty, and not their lives, though indeed they were afterwards
forced to heighten the punishment with a halter; not that they were
better convinced, as I humbly conceive, but because the criminals were
most commonly persons who had no goods to forfeit, and to whom their
liberty was no otherwise valuable but as it gave them the opportunity of
doing mischief. Indeed our law-books do furnish us with many instances
of persons who have been tried and executed for witchcraft and sorcery,
but then the wiser part of mankind have taken the liberty to condemn the
magistrate, at that time of day, of too much inconsideration, and the
juries of an equal share of credulity; and those who have suffered for
such crimes, have been commonly persons of the lowest rank, whose
poverty might occasion a dislike of them in their fellow-creatures, and
their too artless defence subject them to their mistaken justice; so
that, upon the whole, I take the liberty to conclude, and I hope not
without good grounds, that those laws were made to deter men from an
idle pretence to mysterious and unjustifiable arts, which, if too
closely pursued, commonly lead them into the darkest villany, not only
that of deceiving others, but, as far as in them lie, making themselves
slaves to the devil; and not to prevent and hinder men from useful
inquiries, and from the practice of such arts, which though they are in
themselves mysterious, yet are, and may be lawful.
I would not, however, be thought, in contradiction to my former
arguments, to assert that there never were, or that there now are no
persons such as wizards, sorcerers, &c., for by so doing I should be as
liable to be censured for my incredulity, as those who defame Mr.
Campbell on that account are for their want of reason and common
honesty. Holy and profane writ, I confess, furnishes us with many
instances of such persons; but we must not from thence hastily infer,
that all those men are such who are spitefully branded with the odious
guilt; for were it in the devil's power to make every wicked man a
wizard, and woman a witch, he soon would have agents enough to shake
this lower world to atoms but the Almighty, who restrains him, likewise
restrains those.
Having premised thus much, I shall now proceed to consider some of the
Acts of Parliament themselves; the persons against whom they were made,
and the necessity of making the same. And some of the first Acts we meet
with, were those which were made against a sort of people called
Egyptians; persons who, if in reality such, might, if any, be suspected
of practising what we call the black art, the same having been for many
ages encouraged in their country; nay, so much has it been by them
favoured, that it was introduced into their superstitious religion, if I
may without an absurdity call it so, and made an essential part thereof;
and, I believe, Mahometanism has not much mended the matter, since it
has imperiously reigned there, or in any respect reformed that
idolatrous nation. Now the mischief these persons might do, being so
much in the devil's power, among the unwary, was thought too
considerable not to be provided against; and therefore our wise
legislature, the more effectually to prevent the same, by striking at
the very foundation, made an act in 22 Henry VIII. 8: That if any,
calling themselves Egyptians, do come into this realm, they shall
forfeit all their goods; and being demanded, shall depart the realm
within fifteen days, upon pain of imprisonment; and the importers of
them, by another act, were made liable to a heavy penalty. This act was
continued by the 1 Philip and Mary. Conjuration, witchcraft,
enchantment, and sorcery, to get money, or consume any person in his
body, members, or goods, or to provoke any person to unlawful love, was
by the 33 Henry VIII. 14. and the 5 Elizabeth 16. and the 1 James I. 12.
made felony; and by the same 33 Henry VIII. 14. it was made felony to
declare to another any false prophecies upon arms, &c., but this act was
repealed by the 1 Edward VI. 12., but by another act of the 3 and 4 of
Edward VI. 15. it was again enacted, That all such persons who should
pretend to prophecies, &c., should, upon conviction, for the first
offence forfeit ten pounds, and one year's imprisonment; and for the
second offence, all his goods, and imprisonment for life. And by the 7
Edward VI. 11. the same was made to continue but till the then next
sessions of parliament. And by the 5 Elizabeth 15. the same act was
again renewed against fantastical prophesiers, &c., but both those acts
were repealed by the 1 James I. 12.
Thus far we find, that for reasons of state, and for the punishment of
particular persons, those acts were made and repealed, as occasion
required, and not kept on foot, nor indeed were they ever made use of,
as I can remember in my reading, against any persons whose studies led
them into a useful inquiry into the nature of things, or a lawful search
into the workings of nature itself, by which means many things are
foretold long before they come to pass, as eclipses and the like, which
astrologers successfully do, whose art has been in all ages held in so
great esteem that the first monarchs of the East made it their peculiar
study, by which means they deservedly acquired to themselves the name of
Magi, or wise men; but, on the contrary, were provided against persons
profligate and loose, who, under a pretence and mask of science, commit
vile and roguish cheats; and this will the more plainly appear, if we
consider the letter and express meaning of the following Acts, wherein
the persons I am speaking of, are described by such characters, which
sufficiently prove the assertion; for in the 39 of Elizabeth 4. it was
enacted, That all persons calling themselves scholars, going about
begging, seafaring men pretending losses of their ships and goods at
sea, and going about the country begging, or using any subtle craft,
feigning themselves to have knowledge in physiognomy, palmistry, or any
other the like crafty science, or pretending that they can tell
destinies, fortunes, or such like fantastical imaginations, shall be
taken and deemed rogues, vagabonds, sturdy beggars, and shall be
stripped naked from the middle upwards, and whipped till his or her body
be bloody. And by the 1 James I. 12. for the better restraining of the
said offences, and for the farther punishing the same, it was farther
enacted, That any person or persons using witchcraft, sorcery, &c., and
all their aiders, abettors, and counsellors, being convicted, and
attainted of the same offences, shall suffer pain of death, as felons,
without the benefit of clergy; or to tell and declare in what place any
treasure of gold and silver should or might be found in the earth, or
other secret places; or where goods or things lost or stolen should be
found or become; or to provoke any person to unlawful love, such
offender to suffer imprisonment for one whole year without bail or
mainprise, and once in every quarter of the said year shall in some
market-town, or upon the market-day, or at any such time as any fair
shall be kept there, stand openly in the pillory by the space of six
hours, and there shall openly confess his or their offence; and for the
second offence shall suffer death as felons, without the benefit of
clergy.
That these laws were made against a set of villains, whose natural
antipathy to honesty and labour furnished them with pretensions to an
uncommon skill, thereby the more easily to gull and cheat the
superstitiously credulous, and by that means discover from them some
such secrets that might farther them in perpetrating the more consummate
villany, is plain from the very words and expressions of the very Acts
themselves, and the description of the persons they are made against;
and not, as I before observed, to prevent and hinder men from the lawful
inquiry after useful, delightful, and profitable knowledge.
Mr. Campbell, who has been long a settled and reputable inhabitant in
many eminent parts of the city of London, cannot, I am sure, be looked
upon as one of those these Acts of Parliament were made against, unless
we first strip the Acts themselves of their own natural, express, and
plain meaning, and clothe them with that which is more obscure,
unnatural, forced, and constrained a practise; which, if allowed, would
make them wound the innocent and clear the guilty, and render them not
our defence but our greatest evil; they would, by that means, become a
perfect enigma, and be so far from being admired for their plainness,
that they would be even exploded like the oracles of the heathen for
their double meaning.
If Mr. Campbell has the second-sight, as is unquestionable, from the
allowed maxim, that what has been may be again, and by that means can
take a view of contingences and future events; so long as he confines
these notices of approaching occurrences to a good purpose, and makes
use of them only innocently and charitably to warn persons from doing
such things, that according to his conceptions would lead them into
misfortune, or else in putting them upon such arts that may be of use
and benefit to themselves and posterity, always having a strict regard
to morality and religion, to which he truly adheres; certainly, I think,
he ought so much the more to be admired for the same, by how much the
more this his excellent knowledge is surpassing that of other men, and
not be therefore unjustly upbraided with the injurious character of a
cheat, or an ill man: however, this I will presume to affirm, and I
doubt not but to have my opinion confirmed by the learned sages of the
law, that this his innocent practice, and I venture to add, honest one
too, doth by no means entitle him to the penalties of the
before-mentioned laws made against fortune-tellers, and such sort of
profligate wretches; which it is as great an absurdity to decry, as it
would be to call him, who is a settled and reputable inhabitant, a
stroller or wandering beggar.
Again; it is true that Mr. Campbell has relieved many that have been
supposed to have been bewitched, as is related and well attested in the
book of his life; but will any one from thence argue that he himself is
a real conjurer, or wizard, because he breaks the chains by which those
unhappy wretches were bound? No, surely; for if that were the case, we
might then as well indict the physician who drives away a malignant
distemper, and roots out its latent cause by his mysterious skill in
plants and drugs; or conclude that the judge, who condemns a criminal,
is for the same reason guilty of the self-same crime for which the
offender is so by him condemned. Persons who delight in such unnatural
conclusions, must certainly be in love with the greatest absurdities,
and must entirely abandon their natural reason before they can be
brought to conclude that the Prince of Darkness would assist men in
destroying his own power.
The best answer I can afford those men is silence; for if they will not
argue upon the principles of reason, or be guided by her dictates, I
think them no more fit to be contended with in a rational and decent
manner than bedlamites, and such who are bereft of all understanding. A
rod is the best argument for the back of a fool, and contempt the best
usage that ought to be shown to every headstrong and ignorant opponent.
In a word, I know of no branch of Mr. Campbell's practice that bears the
least resemblance to those crimes mentioned in the foregoing Acts. That
he can and doth tell people's names at first sight, though perfect
strangers to him, is confessed by all who have made the curious inquiry
at his hands; but what part of the Acts, I would fain know, is that
against? Knowledge, and a clear sight into things not common, is not
only an allowable, but a commendable qualification; and whether this
knowledge in him be inherent, accidental, or the result of a long study,
the case is still the same; since we are assured he doth it by no
unlawful intelligence, or makes use of the same to any ill purpose, and
therefore is undoubtedly as lawful as to draw natural conclusions from
right premises. Hard is the fate of any man to be ignorant, but much
harder would his lot be if he were to be punished for being wise; and,
like Mr. Campbell, excelling others in this kind of knowledge.
Much more might be said in defence of Mr. Campbell and the art he
professeth, but as the arguments which are brought against him by his
enemies on the one hand, are trivial and ill-grounded, I therefore think
they deserve no farther refutation; so on the other, his innocency is
too clear to require it.
After having thus taken a survey of Mr. Campbell's acts, with regard to
their legality according to the statutes and the laws of the nation
wherein he lives, we will consider next, whether, according to the
stated rules of casuistry, among the great divines eminent for their
authority, it may be lawful for Mr. Campbell to predict, or for good
Christian persons to visit his house, and consult him about his
predictions. I have upon this head examined all the learned casuists I
could meet with in ancient times, for I cannot meet, in my reading, with
any moderns that treat thoroughly upon this case, or I should rather
have chosen them, because, perhaps, the second-sight was less known in
those ancient days than it has been since, and so might escape their
notice.
My design is first to give the reader a distinct summary of all that has
been said of this matter, and to do it as succinctly and briefly as
possible, and then to argue myself from what they agree upon as to this
man's particular case.
That the reader may have recourse to the authors themselves, if they
have a curiosity, and find that I do not go about to impose upon their
judgments, I will here tell the reader where he may find the whole
contents of the following little abstract of divinity and casuistry,
because it would be a tedious piece of work to set down the words of
each of them distinctly, and quote them every one round at the end of
their several different sentences, which tend to the same meaning, but I
will strictly keep to the sense of them all; and I here give the reader
their names, and the places, that he may consult them himself, if his
inclination leads him to be so curious: Thomas Aquinas, iv. _Distin._
34. _Quaestio._ 1. _Art. 3_; Bona, ii. _Dist. 7. Art. 2. Quaest._ 1;
Joannes Major, iv. _Dist. 34. Quaest. 2_; Sylvester, _Verbo Malefico.
Quaest. 8_; Rosella, _Verb Impedimentum_, xv. cap. 18; Tabiena, _Verb.
Impedimentum_, 12 vers.; Cajetan, tom. ii. _Opusc. 12. de Malefic_;
Alphonsus, _a Cast._ lib. x. _de Justa Haereticorum Punitione_, cap. 15;
Cosmus Philiarchus, _de Offic. Sacerdot_, p. 2. lib. iii. cap. 11;
Toletus, _in Summa._ lib. iv., cap. 16; Spineus, _in Tract. de
Strigibus_; Petrus Binsfield, _in Tract. de Confessionibus Maleficorum_.
These divines have generally written upon impious arts of magic, which
they call by the name of divination; and this divination, as they term
it, they divide into two kinds; the one, in which the devil is expressly
invoked, to teach hidden and occult things; the other, in which he is
tacitly called upon to do the same. An express invocation is made by
word or deed, by which a real pact is actually made with the devil, and
that is a sin that affects the death of the soul, according to the laws
of theology, and ought to affect the death of the body, according to
civil and political laws. The tacit invocation of demons is then only,
when a man busies himself so far with such persons, that it is meet and
just that the devil should be permitted to have to do with him, though
it was opposite to the intention of the man.
But then this express invocation is again subdivided into several
species, according to the divers manners by which the devil instructs
these men.
The first is enchantment, which I need not describe, and of which I will
speak no more, because it is what everybody knows to be detestable, and
nobody ought to know the art thereof.
The second is divination by dreams, when any instructions are expected
from the devil by way of dream, which is a capital crime.
The third is called necromancy, which is, when by the use of blood and
writing, or speaking certain verses, the dead seem to rise again, and
speak and teach future things. For though the devil cannot recall a soul
departed, yet he can, as some have thought, take the shape of the dead
corpse, himself actuate it by his subtlety, as if it was informed with a
soul. And some affirm, that by the divine permission the devil can do
this, and spake so in the case of Samuel and Saul. But divines of a more
solid genius attribute that power only to the Deity, and say, with
reason, that it is beyond the devil's capacity. But it is certain this
was a divination done in dead animals by the use of their blood, and
therefore the word is derived from the Greek [Greek: nekron], which
signifies dead, and [Greek: Manthea], which signifies divination.
The fourth species is called divination by the Pythians, which was taken
from Apollo, the first diviner, as Thomas Aquinas says in his _Secunda
Secundae, Quaest. 95. Art. 3_.
The fifth is called geomancy, which is when the devil teaches anything
by certain signs appearing in the earthly bodies, as in wood, iron, or
polished stones, beryls, or glass.
The sixth is named hydromancy, as when a demon teaches anything by
appearances in the water.
The seventh is styled aeromancy; and it is when he informs people of such
things by figures in the air.
The eighth is entituled pyromancy; that is, when it instructs people by
forms appearing in the fire.
The ninth is termed aruspicy; which is when by signs appearing in the
bowels of sacrificed animals the demon predicts at altars.
Thus far as to express divination, or invocation of the devil, which is
detestable; and the very consulting of persons that use such unlawful
means is, according to the judgment of all casuists, the high road to
eternal damnation.
Now as to tacit divination, or invocation of the devil, that is divided
into two subaltern kinds. The first kind is, when for the sake of
knowing hidden things, they make use of a vain and superstitious
disposition existing in things to judge from; which disposition is not
of a sufficient virtue to lead them to any real judgment. The second
kind of tacit divination is, when that knowledge is sought by the
disposition of those things which men effect on purpose and of their own
accord, in order to come by and acquire that knowledge.
Both these kinds of tacit divination are again subdivided into several
species, as are particularly mentioned by St. Thomas, _Secunda Secundae,
Quaest. 95, Art. 3_; Gregory de Valentine, tom. iii. _Disput. 6. Quaest.
12. Puncto 2_; Toletus, _in Summa._ lib. iv. cap. 15; and Michael
Medina, lib. ii. _de Recta in Deum fide: post Sanctum Augustinum_. lib.
ii. _de Doct. Christ._ cap. 19. _et seq_.
The first of these kinds of tacit divination contains under it the
following several species:--
The first species is called Genethliacal, which is when from the
movement or situation of the stars, men's nativities are calculated and
inquired into so far, as that from such a search they pretend to deduce
the knowledge of human effects, and the contingent events that are to
attend them. This Thomas Aquinas and Sixtus Quintus condemns; but I
shall, with humility and submission to greater judgments, inquire
hereafter into their reasons, and give my opinion why I think this no
evil art; but I submit my opinion, if, after it is given, it is thought
erroneous.
The second is augury, when anything is predicted from the chattering of
birds, or the voice of animals, and this may be either lawful or
unlawful. If it comes from natural instinct, for brutes having only a
sensitive soul, have their organs subject to the disposition of the
greater bodies in which they are contained, and principally of all to
the celestial bodies, his augury is not amiss. For if when crows are
remarked to caw, as the vulgar phrase is, more than ordinary, it is,
judging according to the instinct of their nature, if we expect rain,
and we may reasonably depend upon it, we shall be right if we foretell
rain to be at hand. But sometimes the devils actuate those brute animals
to excite vain ideas in men, contrary to what the instinct of their
nature compels them to. This is superstitious and unlawful, and forbid
in holy writ.
The third is aruspicy, when from the flight of birds, or any other
motion of any animals whatsoever, persons pretend to have an insight and
a penetrative knowledge into occult and hidden matters.
The fourth consists in omens, when, for example, a man from any words
which others may have spoken on purpose, or by accident, pretends to
gather a way of looking into and knowing anything of futurity.
The fifth is chiromancy, which consists in making a pretence to the
knowledge of future things by the figures and the lines of the hands;
and if it be by consulting the shoulder-bones of any beast, it goes by
the name of spatulamancy.
* * * * *
As the first kind of divination, by a tacit invocation of the devil is
divided into the five species above mentioned; so also is the second
kind of tacit divination, or invocation of the devil, divided into two
species by St. Thomas of Aquin.
_Secunda Secundae, questione nonagesima quinta articulo tertio_, and too
tedious to insert here.
Now all these ways are by these divines counted wicked, and I set them
down that people may avoid them. For how many gipsies and pretenders to
chiromancy have we in London and in the country? How many that are for
hydromancy, that pretend in water to show men mighty mysteries? And how
many in geomancy, with their beryls and their glasses, that, if they are
not under the instigation of the devil, propagate the scandal at least
by being cheats, and who ought to be punished to the utmost severity, as
our English laws enact? Mr. Campbell, who hates, contemns, and abhores
these ways, ought, methinks, to be encouraged by their being restrained;
and people of curious tempers, who always receive from him moral and
good instructions, which make them happy in the conduct of life, should
be animated in a public manner to consult him, in order to divert the
curious itch of their humours from consulting such wicked impostors, or
diabolical practisers, as too frequently abound in this nation, by
reason of the inquisitive vulgar, who are more numerous in our climate,
than any I ever read of.
But now to argue the case of conscience with regard to his particular
practice by way of the second-sight, whether, _in foro conscientiae_, it
is lawful for him to follow it, or others to consult him? The divines
above mentioned having never had any notice of that faculty in all
likelihood, or if they had, never mentioned it, makes it a point more
difficult for me to discuss; but I think they have stated some cases, by
the making of which my premises, I can deduce from all the learned men I
have above quoted, a conclusion in favour of our Mr. Duncan Campbell,
and of those who consult him; but my opinion shall be always corrected
by those who are wiser than myself, and to whom I owe entire submission.
I take leave to fix these premises from them first, and to form my
argument from them afterwards in the following manner:--
First, It is allowed by all these divines, that a knowledge which one
may have of future things within the order of nature, is and may be
lawful.
Secondly, They imply, that where justice is not violated, it is lawful
both to predict and to consult.
Thirdly, Many of them, but particularly Aureolus, puts this question:
Is it lawful to go to one that deals in the black art, to persuade them
to cure any innocent body that another necromancer or dealer in the
black art may have maliciously afflicted and tormented with pains? And
some of these casuists, particularly Aureolus, say, it is lawful on such
an occasion to go to such a conjurer, because the end is not
conjuration, but freeing a person from it.
But I take leave to dissent from these great men, and think they are in
a double mistake; first, in stating the question, and then in making
such an answer, provided the question had been stated right.
The question is founded upon this supposition, which is passed by as
granted, viz., that one necromancer could release a person bewitched by
another, which is absolutely false; for it is against the nature of the
devil to be made an instrument to undo his own works of impiety. But
admitting and not granting this to be possible, and the question to be
rightly stated, why still these casuists are out in their answer. It is
lawful, reply they, because the end of going to the conjurers, is not
conjuration, but freeing a good person from it; but the end is not the
point here to be considered, it is the medium, which is bad, that is to
be considered. It is by conjuration, according to their hypothesis, the
other conjuration is to be dissolved; and does not the common rule, that
a man must not do evil that good may come of it, forbid this practice?
And to speak my opinion plainly in that case, the friend that should
consult a conjurer for that end, would be only so kind to put his own
soul in danger of being guilty of hell torments, to relieve his
afflicted friend from some bodily pains, which it would be a virtue in
him to suffer with patience and resignation.
Others, almost all divines, indeed, agree, that it is and may be lawful
to go to a conjurer that torments another, and give him money not to
afflict the patient any longer; because that is only feeing him to
desist from acting after his conjuring manner.
These premises thus settled, if we allow the second-sight to be inborn
and inbred, and natural and common to some families, which is proved in
the book; and if all that Mr. Campbell has predicted in that
second-sighted way terminates with moral advice, and the profit of the
consulter, and without the violation of justice to others, as the book
shows all throughout; if he can relieve from witchcraft, as it seems
oath is to be had he can, which no one that deals in black art can do,
why then I need not draw the conclusion, every reader will do it
naturally; they will avow all the strictest laws of casuistry and
morality to be in favour of Mr. Campbell and his consulters.
VERSES
TO MR. CAMPBELL,
ON THE
HISTORY OF HIS LIFE AND ADVENTURES.
I court no muse amidst the tuneful throng,
Thy genii, Campbell, shall inspire my song;
The gentle summons every thought obeys,
Wakens my soul, and tunes it all to lays.
Among the thousand wonders thou hast shown,
I, in a moment, am a poet grown;
The rising images each other meet;
Fall into verse, and dance away with feet:
Now with thy Cupid and thy lamb I rove[A],
Through ev'ry bloomy mead and fragrant grove.
A thousand things I can myself divine,
Thy little genii whispers them to mine;
Beyond the grave I see thy deathless fame,
The fair and young all singing Campbell's name;
And Love himself--for Love and thou art friends,
He joins the chorus, and his dart defends.
What noisy talker can thy magic boast?
Let those dull wretches try who scorn thee most.
O, sacred silence! let me ever dwell,
With the sweet muses, in thy lonely cell!
Or else bind up, in thy eternal chain,
Scandal and noise, and all that talk in vain.
M. FOWKE.
TO MRS. FOWKE,
OCCASIONED BY THE FOREGOING VERSES
Sweet nightingale! whose artful numbers show,
Expressive eloquence to silent woe,
Sing on, and in thy sex's power presume,
By praising Campbell, to strike nations dumb.
Whene'er you sing, silent, as he, they'll stand,
Speak by their eyes, grow eloquent by hand:
Tongues are confusion, but as learnt by you,
All but Pythagoras's doctrine's true;
Campbell and he taught silence--had he heard
How much thy lays to silence were preferr'd,
He had recanted from thy powerful song,
And justly wish'd each organ had a tongue.
But could he see, what you, in every line,
Prophetic tell of Campbell's sight divine,
Like Croesus's sons his loosened nerves must break,
And ask the cause--or make his Campbell speak.
G. S.
* * * * *
TO MR. CAMPBELL.
Milton's immortal wish[B] you sure must feel,
To point those fates which you to all reveal;
If second-sight so much alarms mankind,
What transports must it give to know thy mind?
Thy book is but the shadow of thy worth,
Like distant lights, which set some picture forth.
But if the artist's skill we nearer trace,
And strictly view each feature of the face,
We find the charm that animates the whole,
And leave the body to adore the soul.
Milton's immortal wish you sure must feel,
To point those fates which you to all reveal.
I. PHILIPS.
* * * * *
THE PARALLEL
TO MR. CAMPBELL.
As Denham sings, mysterious 'twas, the same
Should be the prophet's and the poet's name[C];
But while the sons of genius join to praise,
What thine presaging dictates to their lays,
The things they sweetly sing, and you foreshow,
Open the Sampson riddle to our view;
Strong are thy prophecies, their numbers sweet,
And with the lion combs of honey meet.
Late on fantastic cabalistic schemes,
Of waking whimsies, or of feverish dreams,
New cobweb threads of poetry were spun,
In gaudy snares, like flies, were witlings won,
Their brains entangled, and our art undone.
Pope, first, descended from a monkish race,
Cheapens the charms of art, and daubs her face;
From Gabalis[D] his mushroom fictions rise,
Lop off his sylphs--and his Belinda[E] dies;
The attending insects hover in the air,
No longer than they're present is she fair;
Some dart those eyebeams, which the youths beguile,
And some sit conquering in a dimpling smile.
Some pinch the tucker, and some smooth the smock.
Some guard an upper, some a lower lock;
But if these truant body-guards escape,
In whip the gnomes and strait commit a rape;
The curling honours of her head they seize,
Hairs less in sight, or any hairs they please;
But if to angry frowns her brow she bends,
Upon her front some sullen gnome descends,
Whisks through the furrows with its airy form,
Bristles her eyebrows and 'directs the storm.'
As wide from these are Addisonian themes,
As angels' thoughts are from distempered dreams;
Spenser and he, to image nature, knew,
Like living persons, vice and virtue drew:
At once instructed and well pleas'd we read,
While in sweet morals these two poets lead,
No less to wisdom than to wit pretence,
They led by music, but they led to sense.
But Pope scarce ever force to fancy joins,
With dancing-master's feet equips his lines,
Plumes empty fancy, and in tinsel shines.
Or if by chance his judgment seems to lead,
Where one poor moral faintly shows its head,
'Tis like a judge, that reverently drest,
Peeps through the pageants at a lord may'r's feast;
By starts he reasons, and seems wise by fits,
Such wit's call'd wisdom, that has lost its wits.
Unnam'd by me this witling bard had been,
Had not the writer's caused the reader's sin;
But less by comedies and lewd romances,
Are ruin'd, less by French lascivious dances,
Than by such rhymers' masqueraded fancies.
From such the root of superstition grew,
Whose old charms fertile, daily branch'd in new;
From such chimeras first inspired, the fair
The conj'rer's ring approach'd, and Jesuit's chair;
Throng'd to the doors where magic rogues divin'd,
And sold out _ignes fatui_ to the mind.
Wizards and Jesuits differ but in name,
Both demon's envoys, and their trade the same;
Weak wills they lead, and vapour'd minds command,
And play the game into each others' hand;
Like spiritual jugglers at the cup and ball,
Rising by foolish maids, that long to fall.
Some into love they damn, and some they pray,
For greensick minds are caught a different way;
To the same end, tho' several paths, they run,
Priests to undo and maids to be undone;
Some blacker charms, some whiter spells cajole,
As some lick wall and some devour a coal.
Here ladies, strong in vapours, see men's faces
Imprinted in the conjurer's dazzling glasses,
There, when, in spring time, the too praying priest,
Toasts, and does something better,--to the best
A spouse is promised on next Baptist's[F] feast.
First some young contrite rake's enjoined to marry,
Lest--madam's forc'd to squeak for't--or, miscarry:
In June, the lass does to the fields repair,
Where good sir Domine just took the air.
When, O strange wonder! near a plaintain root,
She finds a coal--and so a spouse to boot.
She longs to dream and to secure the sport
That very day the youth design'd--must court,
He does--she struck with rapture and delight.
Bespeaks her fancy--strongly--dreams at night.
The yielding fair, the ravish'd youth obtains,
A maid she passes--so his child's free gains,
He has the pleasure, yet is sav'd the pains.
Thus when priest's wench--to cure the growing evil
Poor St. John Baptist must forerun the devil.
But if the ladies fall, at fall of leaf,
Or in the winter--still there's fresh relief;
Let her lace close four months, and if she can,
St. Agnes[G] heals the breach and brings the man.
Thus a lewd priest to vapour'd virgins cants,
And into pimps reverts his vestal saints.
O! dire effects of mask'd impiety!
And shall they, Christian muse! have aids from thee;
Wilt thou, like witty heathens, lewdly given,
To a Gehenna metamorphose Heaven?
Wilt thou?--O no--forbid th' unhallow'd song,
Such profanations to Rome's bard belong.
Let one, who gods and goddesses adores,
Paint them like rakes and bullies, bawds, and whores.
Our genii, Campbell, shall be all divine,
Shall high o'er theirs as much distinguish'd shine,
As o'er such priests or chiromancers, thine.
Thine, which does future time's events command
To leap to sight, and in thy presence stand;
Thine, whose eyes glowing with a gifted ray,
New roads of life o'er wisdom's Alps survey,
And guide benighted travellers to day.
Let me, for once, a daring prophet be,
Mark from this hour--and poetry thoul't see
Date a new era from thy book and thee;
Thy book, where, thro' the stories, thou hast laid,
All moral wisdom's to the mind convey'd;
And thus far prophecies each page, that all
Must rise by virtues, or by vices fall.
Poets shall blush to see their wit outdone,
Resume their reason and assert its throne,
Shall fables still for virtue's sake commend;
And wit the means, shall wisdom make its end.
Who hopes to please, shall strive to please by pains,
Shall gaining fame, earn hard whate'er he gains
And Denham's morals join to Denham's strains.
Here paint the Thames[H] 'when running to the sea
Like mortal life to meet eternity.'
There show both kings and subjects 'one excess,
Makes both, by striving, to be greater, less.'
Shall climb and sweat, and falling, climb up still,
Before he gains the height of Cooper's Hill.
In Windsor Forest, if some trifling grace
Gives, at first blush, the whole a pleasing face,
'Tis wit, 'tis true; but then 'tis common-place.
The landscape-writer branches out a wood,
Then digging hard for't finds a silver flood.
Here paints the woodcock quiv'ring in the air,
And there, the bounding stag and quaking hare.
Describes the pheasant's scarlet-circled eye,
And next the slaught'ring gun that makes him die.
From common epithets that fame derives,
By which his most uncommon merit lives.
'Tis true! if finest notes alone could show,
(Tun'd justly high or regularly low,)
That we should fame to these mere vocals give,
Pope more, than we can offer, should receive.
For, when some gliding river is his theme,
His lines run smoother than the smoothest stream;
Not so when thro' the trees fierce Boreas blows,
The period blust'ring with the tempest grows.
But what fools periods read for periods' sake?
Such chimes improve not heads, but make 'em ache;
Tho' strict in cadence on the numbers rub,
Their frothy substance is whip-syllabub;
With most seraphic emptiness they roll,
Sound without sense, and body without soul.
Not such the bards that give you just applause,
Each, from intrinsic worth, thy praises draws,
Morals, in ev'ry page, where'er they look,
They find divinely scatter'd thro' thy book:
They find thee studious with praiseworthy strife,
To smooth the future roads of human life,
To help the weak, and to confirm the strong,
Make our griefs vanish, and our bliss prolong,
With Phineus' equal find thy large desert,
And in thy praise would equal Milton's art.
Some fools, we know, in spite of nature born,
Would make thee theirs, as they are mankind's scorn,
For still 'tis one of truth's unerring rules,
No sage can rise without a host of fools.
Coxcombs, by whose eternal din o'ercome,
The wise in just revenge, might wish them dumb,
Say on the world your dumbness you impose,
And give you organs they deserve to lose.
Impose, indeed, on all the world you would,
If you but held your tongue, because you could;
'Tis hard to say, if keeping silence still,
In one, who, could he speak, would speak with skill,
Is worse, or talk in these, who talk so ill.
Why on that tongue should purposed silence dwell,
Whence every word would drop an oracle?
More fools of thy known foresight make a jest,
For all bate greatest gifts who share the least,
(As Pope calls Dryden the often to the test[I])
Such from thy pen, should Irwin's sentence[J] wait,
And at the gallows own the judge of fate.
Or, while with feeble impotence they rail,
Write wonders on, and with the wise prevail.
Sooner shall Denham cease to be renown'd,
Or Pope for Denham's sense quit empty sound,
To Addison's immortal heights shall rise,
Or the dwarf reach him in his native skies.
Sooner shall real gipsies grow most fair,
Or false ones mighty truths like thine declare,
Than these poor scandal-mongers hit their aim,
And blemish thine or Curll's acknowledg'd fame.
Great Nostradamus thus, his age advis'd,
The mob his counsels jeer'd, some bards[K] despis'd
Him still, neglecting these his genius fir'd,
A king encourag'd, and the world admir'd;
Greater (as times great tide increas'd) he grew,
When distant ages proved what truths he knew;
Thy nobler book a greater king received,
Whence I predict, and claim to be believ'd,
That by posterity, less fame shall be
To Nostradamus granted, than to thee;
Thee! whom the best of Kings does so defend,
And (myself barring) the best bards commend.
H. STANHOPE.
Whitehall,
June 6th, 1720.
[A] See Mr. Campbell's Life, p. 43.
[B] To see and tell
Of things invisible to mortal sight,
PARADISE LOST.
[C] (Vates) See the Progress of Learning.
[D] See the History of the Count de Gabalis, from whence he has taken
the machinery of his Rape of the Lock.
[E] Mrs. F--m--r.
[F] See the Dedication of Mr. Campbell's Life.
[G] See Mr. Campbell's Dedication.
[H] See Cooper's Hill.
[I] See many places of his notes on Homer.
[J] See Mr. Campbell's Life, page 80.
[K] Alluding to this verse, "sed cum falsa Damus, nil nisi Nostra
Damus."
THE END OF DUNCAN CAMPBELL.
* * * * *
TRANSCRIBER NOTES:
Punctuation corrected without note.
Archaic spellings have been retained.
The following corrections have been made:
page iv: "two" changed to "too" (too long to dwell upon).
page 8: "dedelighted" changed to "delighted" (however, delighted
extremely in this way).
page 13: "off" changed to "of" (night not be despaired of.).
page 14: "a" added for continuity (for she that can dally with a
heart).
page 15: "governer" changed to "governor" (who is the governor of
Uma).
page 25: "Willis" changed to "Wallis" (An Extract from Dr.
Wallis).
page 36: "hiting" changed to "hitting" (that he seldom missed
hitting).
page 44: "vension" changed to "venison" (to bring a side of
venison to me).
page 47: "be" added for continuity (no demonstrative proof is to
be had on either side).
page 143: "their" changed to "there" (and left there alone).
page 153: "know" changed to "known" (by persons of known credit).
page 180: "inbord" changed to "inborn" (if we allow the
second-sight to be inborn).
page 180: "onger" changed to "longer" (not to afflict the patient
any longer).