Curious Authors from Thackeray's Library, indicating the Course
of his Readings -- Early Essayists illustrated with the
Humourist's Pencillings -- Bishop Earle's 'Microcosmography; a
piece of the World Characterised,' 1628 -- An 'Essay in Defence
of the Female Sex,' 1697 -- Thackeray's Interest in Works on the
Spiritual World -- 'Flagellum Dæmonum, et Fustis Dæmonum. Auctore
R. P. F. Hieronymo Mengo,' 1727 -- 'La Magie et L'Astrologie,'
par L. F. Alfred Maury -- 'Magic, Witchcraft, Animal Magnetism,
Hypnotism, and Electro Biology,' by James Baird, 1852.
MICROCOSMOGRAPHY (1628),
OR A PIECE OF THE WORLD DISCOVERED IN ESSAYS AND CHARACTERS.
BY JOHN EARLE, D.D., BISHOP OF SALISBURY.
_Preface to the Edition of 1732._
This little book had six editions between 1628 and 1633, without any
author's name to recommend it. An eighth edition is spoken of in 1664.
The present is reprinted from the edition of 1633, without altering
anything but the plain errors of the press, and the old printing and
spelling in some places.
The language is generally easy, and proves our English tongue not to
be so very changeable as is commonly supposed. The change of fashions
unavoidably casts a shade upon a few places, yet even those contain an
exact picture of the age wherein they were written, as the rest does
of mankind in general; for reflections founded upon nature will be
just in the main, as long as men are men, though the particular
instances of vice and folly may be diversified. Perhaps these valuable
essays may be as acceptable to the public as they were at first; both
for the entertainment of those who are already experienced in the ways
of mankind, and for the information of others who would know the world
the best way, that is--without trying it.
_Advertisement to the Edition of 1786._
'This entertaining little book is become rather scarce,
and is replete with so much good sense and genuine humour,
which, though in part adapted to the times when it first
appeared, seems on the whole by no means inapplicable to
any era of mankind.'
Earle's 'Microcosmography' is undoubtedly a favourable example of the
quaint epigrammatic wisdom of the early English writers, and few could
question the appropriateness of the pencil which has lightly margined
the settings of these terse and sterling essays, to the wisdom and
humour of which the happiest productions of later essayists can but be
appreciatively likened. Concerning the profoundly accomplished and
eminently modest author, 'a most eloquent and powerful preacher, a man
of great piety and devotion; and of a conversation so pleasant and
delightful, so very innocent, and so very facetious, that no man's
company was more desired and more loved; no man was more negligent in
his dress, habit, and mien, no man more wary and cultivated in his
behaviour and discourse; insomuch as he had the greater advantage when
he was known, by promising so little before,' we may accept the
testimony of Lord Clarendon's 'Account of his own Life.' The
observations of the great Chancellor are supplemented by the character
which honest Isaac Walton has sketched of this estimable prelate in
his 'Life of Hooker.'
'... Dr. Earle, now Lord Bishop of Salisbury,[12] of whom I may justly
say (and let it not offend him, because it is such a truth as ought
not to be concealed from posterity, or those that now live and yet
know him not) that since Mr. Hooker died, none have lived whom God
hath blessed with more innocent wisdom, more sanctified learning, or a
more pious, peaceable, primitive temper; so that this excellent person
seems to be only like himself, and our venerable Richard Hooker.'
[Illustration]
A CHILD
Is a man in a small letter, yet the best copy of Adam before he tasted
of Eve or the apple; and he is happy whose small practice in the world
can only write his character. He is nature's fresh picture newly drawn
in oil, which time, and much handling, dims and defaces. His soul is
yet a white paper unscribbled with observations of the world,
wherewith at length it becomes a blurred notebook. He is purely happy
because he knows no evil, nor hath made means by sin to be acquainted
with misery. He arrives not at the mischief of being wise, nor endures
evils to come by foreseeing them. He kisses and loves all, and, when
the smart of the rod is past, smiles on his beater. Nature, and his
parents alike, dandle him, and 'tice him on with a bit of sugar to a
draught of wormwood. He plays yet like a young 'prentice the first
day, and is not come to his task of melancholy.
All the language he speaks yet is tears, and they serve him well
enough to express his necessity. His hardest labour is his tongue, as
if he were loth to use so deceitful an organ, and he is best company
with it when he can but prattle. We laugh at his foolish sports, but
his game is our earnest, and his drums, rattles, and hobby-horses, but
the emblems and mocking of man's business. His father hath writ him as
his own little story, wherein he reads those days of his life that he
cannot remember, and sighs to see what innocence he hath outlived. The
older he grows, he is a star lower from God; and, like his first
father, much worse in his breeches. He is the Christian's example, and
the old man's relapse; the one imitates his pureness, and the other
falls into his simplicity. Could he put off his body with his little
coat, he had got eternity without a burden, and exchanged but one
heaven for another.
AN UPSTART KNIGHT.
[Illustration]
An upstart country knight is a holiday clown, and differs only in the
stuff of his clothes, not the stuff of himself, for he bare the king's
sword before he had arms to wield it; yet being once laid o'er the
shoulder with a knighthood, he finds the herald his friend. His father
was a man of good stock, though but a tanner or usurer; he purchased
the land, and his son the title. He has doffed off the name of a
country lout, but the look not so easy, and his face still bears a
relish of churn milk. He is guarded with more gold lace than all the
gentlemen of the country, yet his body makes his clothes still out of
fashion. His housekeeping is seen much in the distinct families of
dogs, and serving-men attendant on their kennels, and the deepness of
their throats is the depth of his discourse.
A justice of peace he is to domineer in his parish, and do his
neighbour wrong with more right. He will be drunk with his hunters for
company, and stain his gentility with drippings of ale. He is fearful
of being sheriff of the shire by instinct, and dreads the assize week
as much as the prisoner.
In sum, he's but a clod of his own earth, or his land is the dunghill,
and he the cock that crows over it; and commonly his race is quickly
run, and his children's children, though they 'scape hanging, return
to the place from whence they came.
A PLAIN COUNTRY-FELLOW.
[Illustration]
A plain country-fellow is one that manures his ground well, but lets
himself lie fallow and untilled. He has reason enough to do his
business, and not enough to be idle and melancholy. He seems to have
the punishment of Nebuchadnezzar, for his conversation is among
beasts, and his talons none of the shortest, only he eats not grass
because he loves not salads. His hand guides the plough, and the
plough his thoughts, and his ditch and landmark is the very mound of
his meditations. He expostulates with his oxen very understandingly,
and speaks gee, and ree, better than English. His mind is not much
distracted with objects, but if a good fat sow come in his way, he
stands dumb and astonished, and though his haste be never so great,
will fix here half an hour's contemplation. His habitation is some
poor thatched roof, distinguished from his barn by the loop-holes that
let out smoke, which the rain had long since washed through, but for
the double ceiling of bacon on the inside, which has hung there from
his grandsire's time, and is yet to make rashers for posterity. His
dinner is his other work, for he sweats at it as much as at his
labour; he is a terrible fastener on a piece of beef, and you may hope
to stave the guard off sooner. His religion is part of his copyhold,
which he takes from his landlord, and refers it wholly to his
discretion. Yet if he give him leave he is a good Christian to his
power--that is, comes to church in his best clothes, and sits there
with his neighbours, where he is capable only of two prayers, for
rain, and fair weather. He apprehends God's blessings only in a good
year, or a fat pasture, and never praises Him but on _good ground_.
Sunday he esteems a day to make merry in, and thinks a bagpipe as
essential to it as evening prayer, when he walks very solemnly after
service with his hands coupled behind him, and censures the dancing of
his parish. His compliment with his neighbour is a good thump on the
back, and his salutation commonly some blunt curse. He thinks nothing
to be vices, but pride and ill husbandry, from which he will gravely
dissuade the youth, and has some thrifty hob-nail proverbs to clout
his discourse. He is a niggard all the week, except only market days,
when, if his corn sell well, he thinks he may be drunk with a good
conscience. He is sensible of no calamity but the burning of a stack
of corn, or the overflowing of a meadow, and thinks Noah's flood the
greatest plague that ever was, not because it drowned the world, but
spoiled the grass. For death he is never troubled, and if he get in
but his harvest before, let it come when it will, he cares not.
A POT POET.
A pot poet is the dregs of wit, yet mingled with good drink may have
some relish. His inspirations are more real than others, for they do
but feign a god, but he has his by him. His verse runs like the tap,
and his invention as the barrel ebbs and flows at the mercy of the
spiggot. In thin drink he aspires not above a ballad, but a cup of
sack inflames him, and sets his muse and nose a-fire together. The
press is his mint, and stamps him now and then a sixpence or two in
reward of the baser coin, his pamphlet. His works would scarce sell
for three halfpence, though they are given oft for three shillings,
but for the pretty title that allures the country gentleman; for which
the printer maintains him in ale for a fortnight. His verses are, like
his clothes, miserable stolen scraps and patches, yet their pace is
not altogether so hobbling as an almanac's. The death of a great man,
or the burning of a house, furnish him with an argument, and the nine
muses are out strait in mourning gowns, and Melpomene cries 'Fire!
fire!' His other poems are but briefs in rhyme, and, like the poor
Greek's collections, to redeem from captivity.
[Illustration]
His frequentest works go out in single sheets, and are chanted from
market to market to a vile tune and a viler throat; whilst the poor
country wench melts like her butter to hear them. And these are the
stories of some men of Tyburn, or of a strange monster broken loose;
or sitting in a tap-room he writes sermons on judgments. He drops away
at last, and his life, like a can too full, spills upon the bench. He
leaves twenty shillings on the score, which his hostess loses.
A BOWL ALLEY.
A bowl alley is the place where there are three things thrown away
besides bowls--to wit, time, money, and curses, and the last ten for
one. The best sport in it is the gamesters, and he enjoys it that
looks on and bets not. It is the school of wrangling, and worse than
the schools, for men will cavil here for a hair's breadth, and make a
stir where a straw would end the controversy. No antic screws men's
bodies into such strange flexures, and you would think them here
senseless, to speak sense to their bowl, and put their trust in
entreaties for a good cast. It is the best discovery of humours,
especially in the losers, where you have fine variety of impatience,
whilst some fret, some rail, some swear, and others more ridiculously
comfort themselves with philosophy. To give you the moral of it, it is
the emblem of the world, or the world's ambition; where most are
short, or over, or wide, or wrong-biassed, and some few justle in to
the mistress of fortune. And it is here as in the court, where the
nearest are most spited, and all blows aimed at the toucher.
[Illustration]
A HANDSOME HOSTESS.
[Illustration]
A handsome hostess is the fairer commendation of an inn, above the
fair sign, or fair lodgings. She is the loadstone that attracts men of
iron, gallants and roarers, where they cleave sometimes long, and are
not easily got off. Her lips are your welcome, and your entertainment
her company, which is put into the reckoning too, and is the dearest
parcel in it. No citizen's wife is demurer than she at the first
greeting, nor draws in her mouth with a chaster simper; but you may be
more familiar without distaste, and she does not startle at a loose
jest. She is the confusion of a pottle of sack more than would have
been spent elsewhere, and her little jugs are accepted to have her
kiss excuse them. She may be an honest woman, but is not believed so
in her parish, and no man is a greater infidel in it than her husband.
A POOR FIDDLER.
[Illustration]
A poor fiddler is a man and a fiddle out of case, and he in worse case
than his fiddle. One that rubs two sticks together (as the Indians
strike fire), and rubs a poor living out of it; partly from this, and
partly from your charity, which is more in the hearing than giving
him, for he sells nothing dearer than to be gone. He is just so many
strings above a beggar, though he have but two; and yet he begs too.
Hunger is the greatest pain he takes, except a broken head sometimes.
Otherwise his life is so many fits of mirth, and 'tis some mirth to
see him. A good feast shall draw him five miles by the nose, and you
shall track him again by the scent. His other pilgrimages are fairs
and good houses, where his devotion is great to the Christmas; and no
man loves good times better. He is in league with the tapsters for the
worshipful of the inn, whom he torments next morning with his art, and
has their names more perfect than their men. A new song is better to
him than a new jacket, especially if it be lewd, which he calls merry;
and hates naturally the puritan, as an enemy to this mirth. A country
wedding and Whitsun-ale are the two main places he domineers in, where
he goes for a musician, and overlooks the bagpipe. The rest of him is
drunk, and in the stocks.
A COWARD.
A coward is the man that is commonly most fierce against the coward,
and labouring to take off this suspicion from himself; for the opinion
of valour is a good protection to those that dare not use it. No man
is valianter than he is in civil company, and where he thinks no
danger may come of it, and is the readiest man to fall upon a drawer
and those that must not strike again; wonderfully exceptious and
choleric where he sees men are loth to give him occasion, and you
cannot pacify him better than by quarrelling with him. The hotter you
grow, the more temperate man is he; he protests he always honoured
you, and the more you rail upon him, the more he honours you, and you
threaten him at last into a very honest quiet man. The sight of a
sword wounds him more sensibly than the stroke, for before that come,
he is dead already. Every man is his master that dare beat him, and
every man dares that knows him. And he who dare do this is the only
man that can do much with him; for his friend he cares not, as a man
that carries no such terror as his enemy, which for this cause only is
more potent with him of the two; and men fall out with him on purpose
to get courtesies from him, and be bribed again to a reconcilement. A
man in whom no secret can be bound up, for the apprehension of each
danger loosens him, and makes him betray both the room and it. He is a
Christian merely for fear of hell fire; and if any religion could
frighten him more, would be of that.
[Illustration]
(_APPENDIX._)
CHARACTERS FROM THE 'FRATERNITY OF VAGABONDS.'
WITH A DESCRIPTION OF THE CRAFTY COMPANY OF CUSONERS AND SHIFTERS,
WHEREUNTO IS ADDED THE TWENTY-FIVE ORDERS OF KNAVES. 1565.
'A RUFFLER goeth with a weapon to seek service, saying he hath been a
servitor in the wars, and beggeth for relief. But his chiefest trade
is to rob poor wayfaring men and market-women.
[Illustration]
'An UPRIGHT MAN is one that goeth with the truncheon of a staff. This
man is of so much authority, that, meeting with any of his profession,
he may call them to account, and command a share or "snap" unto
himself of all that they have gained by their trade in one month.
'A WHIPIAKE, or fresh-water mariner, is a person who travels with a
counterfeit license in the dress of a sailor.
'An ABRAHAM MAN (hence to "_Sham-Abraham_") is he that walketh
bare-armed and bare-legged, and feigneth himself mad, and carryeth a
pack of wool, or a stick with a bauble on it, or such-like toy, and
nameth himself "Poor Tom."'
AN ESSAY IN DEFENCE OF THE FEMALE SEX.
DEDICATED TO THE PRINCESS ANNE OF DENMARK.
[Illustration]
As this book does not bear the reputation of being generally familiar,
we give a slight sketch of its contents. The vitality of a work
depends in so large a degree on the estimation which its subject
happens to secure at the date of publication, that, as a rule, it may
be held when a book is forgotten, or extinguished before its first
spark of life has time to catch popular attention, the fault is its
own, and, being buried, it is a charity to allow its last rest to
remain undisturbed. We are inclined to believe, however, that this
little treatise forms an exception. The 'Essay in Defence of the
Female Sex' is written by a lady. The third edition, which now comes
under our consideration as having formed one of the works in
Thackeray's library (illustrated with original little sketches of the
characters dealt with by their authors), was published in 1697, at the
signs of the 'Black Boy' and the 'Peacock,' both in Fleet Street. The
authoress disclaims any participation in a brace of verses which
appear on its title:--
'_Since each is fond of his own ugly face,
Why should you, when we hold it, break the glass?_'
Prol. to 'Sir F. Flutter.'
The second couplet appears under an engraving of the 'Compleat Beau,'
an elaborate creation adjusting his curls with a simper, whilst a
left-handed barber bestows a finishing puff from his powder-box:--
'_This vain gay thing set up for man,
But see what fate attends him,
The powd'ring Barber first began,
The barber-Surgeon ends him!_'
The paragraphs distinguished with little drawings, which we have
extracted, may give an impression that the 'defence' consists of an
attack on the male, rather than a vindication of the fair sex. The
arguments of the gentle champion are, however, temperate and sensible,
in parts; they are stated in a lively, quaint manner, and the general
quality of the book may be considered superior to the average of its
class and date. The preface, which discourses of vanity as the
mainspring of our actions, deals with the characters it is designed to
introduce in the work as with the mimic actors of a puppet-show; this
coincidence with a similar assumption in the preface to the great
novel of our century, from the pen of the gifted author who at one
time possessed this little treatise, is worthy of a passing remark.
PREFACE.
[Illustration]
'Prefaces to most books are like prolocutors to puppet-shows; they
come first to tell you what figures are to be presented, and what
tricks they are to play. According, therefore, to ancient and laudable
custom, I thought fit to let you know, by way of preface or
advertisement (call it which you please), that here are many fine
figures within to be seen, as well worth your curiosity as any in
Smithfield at Bartholomew-tide. I will not deny, reader, but that you
may have seen some of them there already; to those that have I have
little more to say, than that if they have a mind to see them again in
effigy, they may do it here. What is it you would have? Here are St.
Georges, Batemans, John Dories, Punchinelloes, and the "Creation of
the World," or what's as good, &c. The bookseller, poor man, is
desirous to please you at firsthand, and therefore has put a fine
picture in the front to invite you in.'
_Character of a Pedant._
(The Authoress alludes to scholars 'falling short' of
certain qualifications. The expression is literally
illustrated.)
[Illustration]
'For scholars, though by their acquaintance with books, and conversing
much with old authors, they may know perfectly the sense of the
learned dead, and be perfect masters of the wisdom, be thoroughly
informed of the state, and nicely skilled in the policies of ages long
since past, yet by their retired and inactive life, their neglect of
business, and constant conversation with antiquity, they are such
strangers to, and so ignorant of, the domestic affairs and manners of
their own country and times, that they appear like the ghosts of old
Romans raised by magic. Talk to them of the Assyrian or Persian
monarchies, the Grecian or Roman commonwealths, they answer like
oracles; they are such finished statesmen, that we should scarce take
them to have been less than confidants of Semiramis, tutors to Cyrus
the Great, old cronies of Solon and Lycurgus, or privy councillors at
least to the twelve Cæsars successively. But engage them in a
discourse that concerns the present times, and their native country,
and they hardly speak the language of it, and know so little of the
affairs of it, that as much might reasonably be expected from an
animated Egyptian mummy.
'They are much disturbed to see a fold or plait amiss in the picture
of an old Roman gown, yet take no notice that their own are
threadbare, out at the elbows, or ragged; or suffer more if Priscian's
head be broken than if it were their own. They are excellent guides,
and can direct you to every alley and turning in old Rome, yet lose
their way at home in their own parish. They are mighty admirers of the
wit and eloquence of the ancients, and yet had they lived in the time
of Cicero and Cæsar, would have treated them with as much supercilious
pride and disrespect as they do now with reverence. They are great
hunters of ancient manuscripts, and have in great veneration anything
that has escaped the teeth of time and rats, and if age has
obliterated the characters 'tis the more valuable for not being
legible. But if by chance they can pick out one word, they rate it
higher than the whole author in print, and would give more for one
proverb of Solomon under his own hand, than for all his wisdom.'
[Illustration]
_Extracts from the Character of a Country Gentleman._
[Illustration]
Contrasting the picture of a pedant with that of a country gentleman,
the writer states these two characters are presented to show 'that men
may, and do often, baffle and frustrate the effects of a liberal
education as well by industry as negligence. For my part I think the
learned and unlearned blockhead pretty equal, for 'tis all one to me,
whether a man talk nonsense or unintelligible sense.'
After describing the relief experienced by the country squire on his
release from the bondage of learning, the authoress continues her
sketch:--
'Thus accomplished and finished for a gentleman, he enters the civil
list, and holds the scales of Justice with as much blindness as she is
said to do. From henceforward his worship becomes as formidable to
the ale-houses as he was before familiar; he sizes an ale-pot, and
takes the dimensions of bread with great dexterity and sagacity. He is
the terror of all the deer and poultry stealers in the neighbourhood,
and is so implacable a persecutor of poachers that he keeps a register
of all the guns and dogs in the hundred, and is the scare-beggar of
the parish. Short pots, and unjustifiable dogs and nets, furnish him
with sufficient matter of presentments to carry him once a quarter to
the sessions, where he says little, eats and drinks much, and after
dinner, hunts over the last chase, and so rides, worshipfully drunk,
home again.'
_Extracts from the Character of a Scowler._
[Illustration]
'These are your men of nice honour, that love fighting for the sake of
blows, and are never well but when they are wounded; they are severe
interpreters of looks, are affronted at every face that don't please
them, and like true cocks of the game, have a quarrel with all mankind
at first sight. They are passionate admirers of scarred faces, and
dote on a wooden leg. They receive a challenge like a "billet-doux,"
and a home-thrust as a favour. Their common adversary is the
constable, and their usual lodging "the counter." Broken heads are a
diversion, and an arm in a scarf is a high satisfaction. They are
frugal in their expenses with the tailor, for they have their doublets
pinked on their backs; but they are as good as an annuity to the
surgeon, though they need him not to let them blood.'
_Extracts from the Character of a Beau._
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'A beau is one that has more learning in his heels than his head,
which is better covered than filled. His tailor and his barber are his
cabinet council, to whom he is more beholden for what he is than to
his Maker. He is one that has travelled to see fashions, and brought
over with him the newest cut suits and the prettiest fancied ribands
for sword-knots. He should be a philosopher, for he studies nothing
but himself, yet every one knows him better that thinks him not worth
knowing. His looks and gestures are his constant lesson, and his glass
is the oracle that resolves all his mighty doubts and scruples. He
examines and refreshes his complexion by it, and is more dejected at a
pimple than if it were a cancer. When his eyes are set to a
languishing air, his motions all prepared according to art, his wig
and his coat abundantly powdered, his gloves essenced, and his
handkerchief perfumed, and all the rest of his bravery adjusted
rightly, the greatest part of the day, as well as the business of it
at home, is over; 'tis time to launch, and down he comes, scented like
a perfumer's shop, and looks like a vessel with all her rigging under
sail without ballast.' ... 'He first visits the chocolate-house, where
he admires himself in the glass, and starts a learned argument on the
newest fashions. From hence he adjourns to the play-house, where he is
to be met again in the side box, from whence he makes his court to all
the ladies in general with his eyes, and is particular only with the
orange wench. After a while he engages some neighbouring vizor, and
altogether they run over all the boxes, take to pieces every face,
examine every feature, pass their censure upon every one, and so on to
their dress; but, in conclusion, sees nobody complete, but himself, in
the whole house. After this he looks down with contempt upon the pit,
and rallies all the slovenly fellows and awkward "beaux," as he calls
them, of the other end of the town; is mightily offended at their
ill-scented snuff, and, in spite of all his "pulvilio" and essences,
is overcome with the stink of their Cordovant gloves. To close all,
Madam in the mask must give him an account of the scandal of the town,
which she does in the history of abundance of intrigues, real or
feigned, at all of which he laughs aloud and often, not to show his
satisfaction, but his teeth. His next stage is Locket's, where his
vanity, not his stomach, is to be gratified with something that is
little and dear. Quails and ortolans are the meanest of his diet, and
a spoonful of green peas at Christmas is worth more to him than the
inheritance of the field where they grow in summer. His amours are all
profound secrets, yet he makes a confidence of them to every man he
meets with. Thus the show goes forward, until he is beaten for
trespasses he was never guilty of, and shall be damned for sins he
never committed. At last, with his credit as low as his fortune, he
retires sullenly to his cloister, the King's Bench or the Fleet, and
passes the rest of his days in privacy and contemplation. Here, if you
please, we will give him one visit more, and see the last act of the
farce; and you shall find him (whose sobriety was before a vice, as
being only the pander to his other pleasures, and who feared a lighted
pipe as much as if it had been a great gun levelled at him) with his
nose flaming, and his breath stinking of spirits worse than a Dutch
tarpaulin's, and smoking out of a short pipe, that for some months has
been kept hot as constantly as a glass-house, and so I leave him to
his meditation.'
[Illustration]
_Extracts from the Character of a 'Poetaster.'_
After commencing his education in a shop or counting-house, the
poetaster sets up as a manufacturer of verse.
'He talks much of Jack Dryden, and Will Wycherley, and the rest of
that set, and protests he can't help having some respect for them,
because they have so much for him and his writings; otherwise he could
prove them to be mere sots and blockheads that understand little of
poetry in comparison with himself. He is the oracle of those who want
wit, and the plague of those that have it, for he haunts their
lodgings, and is more terrible to them than their duns. His pocket is
an inexhaustible magazine of rhyme and nonsense, and his tongue, like
a repeating clock with chimes, is ready upon every touch to sound
them. Men avoid him for the same reason they avoid the pillory, the
security of their ears, of which he is as merciless a prosecutor. He
is the bane to society, a friend to the stationers, the plague of the
press, and the ruin of his bookseller. He is more profitable to the
grocers and tobacconists than the paper manufacturer; for his works,
which talk so much of fire and flame, commonly expire in their shops
in vapour and smoke.'
[Illustration]
_Extracts from the Character of a Virtuoso._
[Illustration]
'The virtuoso is one who has sold his estate in land to purchase one
in scallop, couch, and cockle shells, and has abandoned the society of
men for that of insects, worms, grubs, lizards, tortoises, beetles,
and moths. His study is like Noah's ark, the general rendezvous of all
creatures in the universe, and the greatest part of his movables are
the remainders of the deluge. His travels are not designed as visits
to the inhabitants of any place, but to the pits, shores, and hills;
and from whence he fetches not the treasure but the trumpery. He is
ravished at finding an uncommon shell or an odd-shaped stone, and is
desperately enamoured at first sight of an unusual marked butterfly,
which he will hunt a whole day to be master of. He traffics to all
places, and has his correspondents in every part of the world. He
preserves carefully those creatures which other men industriously
destroy, and cultivates sedulously those plants which others root up
as weeds. His cash consists much in old coins, and he thinks the face
of Alexander on one of them worth more than all his conquests.'
_Character of a City Militiaman._
[Illustration]
After describing the contests in Flanders being re-fought by the
newsmongers in the coffee-houses, the sketch proceeds:--
'Our greatest actions must be buffooned in show as well as talk. Shall
Namur be taken and our heroes of the city not show their prowess upon
so great an occasion? It must never be said that the coffee-houses
dared more than Moorfields. No; for the honour of London, out comes
the foreman of the shop, very formidable in buff and bandoleers, and
away he marches, with feather in cap, to the general rendezvous in the
Artillery Ground. There these terrible mimics of Mars are to spend
their fury in noise and smoke upon a Namur erected for that purpose on
a molehill, and by the help of guns and drums out-stink and out-rattle
Smithfield in all its bravery, and would be too hard for the greatest
man in all France, if they had him but amongst them. Yet this is but
skirmishing, the hot service is in another place, when they engage the
capons and quart pots; never was onset more vigorous, for they come to
handy blows immediately, and now is the real cutting and slashing, and
tilting without quarter: were the towns in Flanders all walled with
beef, and the French as good meat as capons, and dressed the same way,
the king need never beat his drums for soldiers; and all these gallant
fellows would come in voluntarily, the meanest of which would be able
to eat a marshal.'
These descriptions of character are concluded by contrasts drawn
between the virtues and vices of the respective sexes, and the
authoress remarks that if the masses are to be measured by the
instances of either Tullia, Claudia, or Messalina, by Sardanapalus,
Nero, or Caligula, the human race will certainly be found the vilest
part of the creation.
The essayist records that she has gained one experience by her
treatise:--
'I find when our hands are in 'tis as hard to stop them as our
tongues, and as difficult not to write as not to talk too much. I have
done wondering at those men that can write huge volumes upon slender
subjects, and shall hereafter admire their judgment only who can
confine their imaginations, and curb their wandering fancies.'
[Illustration]
WORKS ON DEMONOLOGY AND MAGIC.
[Illustration]
Among the books which formed part of Thackeray's library are one or
two treating on the subject of the 'Black Arts.' The most curious and
valuable example, H. Mengo's 'Flagellum Dæmonum,' appears to have been
purchased in Paris; in addition to the book-stamp usually employed by
the author of 'Vanity Fair,' there is an autograph, and the remark, 'a
very rare and curious volume,' in his own hand-writing. As the work is
seldom met with, we give the title-pages of the two volumes entire,
for the benefit of those readers who may have a taste for
'Diablerie':--
FLAGELLUM DÆMONUM.
EXORCISMOS, TERRIBILES, POTENTISSIMOS, ET EFFICACES.
REMEDIAQUE PROBATISSIMA, AC DOCTRINAM SINGULAREM IN MALIGNOS
SPIRITUS EXPELLENDOS, FACTURASQUE, ET MALESICIA FUGANDA
DE OBSESSIS CORPORIBUS COMPLECTENS, CUM SUIS BENEDICTIONIBUS,
ET OMNIBUS REQUISITIS AD
EORUM EXPULSIONEM.
_Accessit postremo Pars Secunda, quæ Fustis Dæmonum inscribitur._
QUIBUS NOVI EXORCISMI, ET ALIA NONNULLA, QUÆ PRIUS
DESIDERABANTUR, SUPER ADDITA FUERUNT
AUCTORE R. P. F. HIERONYMO MENGO,
VITELLIANENSI, ORDINIS MINORUM REGULARIS OBSERVANTIÆ.
ANNO 1727.
The fly-leaf is illustrated with the following animated design in
pencil, possibly drawn from a vivid recollection existing in the
artist's mind of a similar subject, by the magic etching-needle of
that fantastic creator of demons and imaginative devices, Jacques
Callot; found in the 'Capricci,' dedicated to Lorenzo Medici.
[Illustration]
We are unable, in the limits of the present volume, to offer more than
a brief summary of the contents of this singular work. The first
volume (309 pages) contains three indexes, a 'dedicatoria' to 'D.D.
Lotharia a Metternich,' and a list of authors who have been consulted
in the composition of the book.
We are inclined to believe that this list of authorities, on a subject
which presents a large field for exploration, will be of value to
investigators, and not altogether without interest to the general
reader. Their names are arranged alphabetically:--
Alexander Papa Sanctus. Alexander de Ales Doctor. Alphonsus
Castrensis. Ambrosius Doctor S. Athanasius Doctor S. August. de
Ancona. Bartholomæus Sybilla. Beda Venerabilis. Bernardus Abbas S.
Bernardinus de Bustis. Boetius Severinus. Bonaventura Doctor S.
Concilia diversa. Dionysius Cartusianus. Fulgentius Doctor S. Glossa
ordinaria. Gregorius Papa Doctor Sanctus. Haymo Episcopus. Henricus
Arphius. Hieronymus Doctor S. Hilarius Doctor S. Hugo de Sancto
Victore. Joachim Abbas. Johannes Crysostomus S. Joannes Cassianus Abb.
Joann. Damascenus S. Johannes Gerson Doctor. Joannes Scotus Doctor.
Josephus de Bello Judaico. Isidorus Doctor S. Leo Papa Doctor S.
Ludovicus Blosius. Magister Sententiarum. Magister Historiarum.
Malleus Malesicarum. Michael Psellus. Nicolaus de Lira Doct. Paulus
Ghirlandus. Petrus Galatinus. Richardus Mediavilla Doctor. Rupertus
Abbas. Silvester Prierius. Thomas Aquinas Doctor Sanctus.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Forty-five pages are devoted to 'Doctrina pulcherrima in malignos
Spiritus.' One hundred and seventy-two pages are occupied with
'Exorcismus I. ad VII.' An 'Exorcismus' consists of various 'Oratio,'
'Adjuratio,' and 'Conjuratio;' the latter, in Exor. VI., graduating
through the 'Conjuratio æris--terræ--aquæ--ignis--omnium
elementalium--Inferni--&c.' Vol. I. concludes with 'Remedia
Efficacissima in malignos spiritus,' and offers, besides Psalms proper
for the purpose, regular physicians' prescriptions--drugs and their
proportions--under the head of 'Medicina pro Maleficiatis.'
[Illustration]
The artist's pencil has made a humorous marginal sketch in 'Exorcismus
V.,' opposite this 'Conjuratio.' 'Conjuro te ✠ dæmon per illum, cujus
Nativitatem Angelus Mariæ Virgini annunciavit, quique pro nobis
peccatoribus descendit de cœlis, &c.'
The title-page of Vol. II. we also give in full:--
FUSTIS DÆMONUM.
ADJURATIONES FORMIDABILES POTENTISSIMAS, ET EFFICACES.
IN MALIGNOS SPIRITUS FUGANDOS DE OPPRESSIS
CORPORIBUS HUMANIS.
EX SACRÆ APOCALYPSIS FONTE VARIISQUE SANCTORUM PATRUM
AUCTORITATIBUS HAUSTAS COMPLECTENS.
AUCTORE R. P. F. HIERONYMO MENGO,
VITELLIANENSI, ORDINIS MINORUM REGULARIS OBSERVANTIÆ.
_Opus sanè ad maximam Exorcistarum commoditatem nunc in
lucem editum._
'LA MAGIE ET L'ASTROLOGIE,'
Par L. F. ALFRED MAURY.
'La Magie et l'Astrologie dans l'Antiquité et au Moyen Age; ou, Étude
sur les Superstitions Païennes qui se sont perpétuées jusqu'à nos
jours.' This work, in two parts, by the author of 'Les Premiers Ages
de la Nature' and 'Une Histoire des Religions,' gives evidence of
wide-spread research. To the curious in 'dark' literature, A. Maury's
compilation must form a vastly concise and interesting introduction to
a subject which once absorbed a large proportion of the erudition and
'fond' wisdom of our ancestors. From its high seat amidst kings and
profound sages, cabalistic art has, in this practical age, sunk so low
that its exclusive privilege may be considered the delectation and
delusion of the most forlorn ignorance.
[Illustration]
It is, indeed, a source of congratulation that magic and astrology in
our day rarely rise above the basement (for their modern patrons
inhabit the kitchen), unless they are admitted in the palpable form of
'parlour necromancy,' degenerating into mere manual dexterity and
common-place conjuring tricks.
A. Maury's work traces the progress of magic from its source among
uncivilised nations, and in the earliest ages, through the history of
the Chaldeans, the Persians, the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the
Romans. He exhibits the struggle of Christianity with magic, until the
greater power overcame vain superstitions. He then follows its evil
track through the middle ages, and illustrates in the observances of
astrology, an imitation of Pagan rites.
[Illustration]
In the Second Part the author reviews the subject of superstitions
attaching to dreams, and defines their employment as a means of
divination, from the earliest records down to a recent period. He then
describes the demoniac origin, once attributed to mental and nervous
derangements, and elucidates the assistance contributed by the
imagination to the deceptions of so-called magic. He concludes by
considering the production of mental phenomena by the use of
narcotics, the destruction of reason and of the intellectual
faculties, and closes his summary by treating of hypnotism and
somnambulism.
In the chapter describing the influence of magic on the teachings of
the Neoplatonic school of philosophy, we find the arguments advanced
in the paragraphs we extract, wittily and practically embodied in a
little sketch of an antique divinity, introduced with modern
attributes.
[Illustration]
'... The new school of Plato imagined a complete hierarchy of demons,
with which they combined a portion of the divinities of the ancient
Greek religion, reconstructed in a newer and more philosophical
spirit.
'In the doctrines expounded by the author of the "Mystères des
Egyptiens," who had borrowed most of his ideas from the Egyptian
theology, demons are represented as veritable divinities, who divide
the government of the world with the deities.
'The inconsistent chronological confusion which prevailed at that
period frequently offers similar contradictions; for the doctrines of
antiquity, while taking their position in the new philosophy, had not
been submitted to the modifications necessary to bring them into
harmony with the later system.
'... The severity directed by Church and State against magicians and
sorcerers was not solely inspired by the terrors of demons or a dread
of witchcraft.
'... Although there existed in the rites of magic many foolish
ceremonials that were harmless and inoffensive, the perpetuation of
the observances of the ancient Polytheism were, however, employed as a
veil, beneath which existed practices that were absolutely criminal,
stamped with the most atrocious and sanguinary superstitions. The
preparation of poisons played a considerable part in these
observances, and witchcraft was not entirely confined to mere
influences on the mind. Those who connected themselves with sorcery
most frequently employed it with a view of gratifying either personal
vengeance or culpable covetousness.'
In the chapter on '_Possession Démoniaque_,' devoted to the demoniacal
origin attributed to nervous and mental afflictions, we find a quaint
pencil-heading which precedes the extracts we have made, to explain
the matter it illustrates.
[Illustration]
'... The ancients no more succeeded in mastering the natural character
and physical origin of disease than they were able to recognise the
constancy of the phenomena of the universe.
'All descriptions of sickness, especially epidemics and mental or
nervous affections, were particularly reputed of supernatural agency;
the first on account of their unexpected approaches, and their
contagious and deadly effects; the second on the grounds of their
mysterious origin, and the profound affections they bring either to
the mind, the muscular system, or the sensations.
'When an epidemic broke out they immediately concluded that a divinity
was abroad, sent forth to execute vengeance or to inflict just
corrections. They then employed their faculties in searching for a
motive that might have provoked his anger, and they strove to appease
his wrath by sacrifices; or they sought to avert the effects of evil
by ceremonies, by purifications, and exorcisms.
[Illustration]
'Their legends record that the deities of evil have been seen riding
through the air, scattering death and desolation far and wide.
[Illustration]
'... A passage in Minutius Felix (Octav. c. 29, which confirms Saint
Cyprien ad Demetrian. p. 501, et Lactance, Inst. Div. Il. xv.; cf.
Kopp, "Palæographia Critica," t. iii. p. 75) informs us that in order
to constrain the demon to declare, through the mouth of the person
supposed to be thus possessed, that he was driven out, recourse was
had to blows, and to the employment of barbarous methods. This will at
once explain the apparent successes of certain exorcists, and the
ready compliance with which the devils responded to their
conjurations. The signs by which the departure of the evil spirit were
recognised were naturally very varied. Pious legends make frequent
mention of demons that have been expelled, and have been seen to
proceed, with terrible cries, from the mouths of those so possessed.'
[Illustration]
The two priestly figures, which are found at the commencement of this
short _résumé_ of Alfred Maury's work, might be readily assumed to
embody the characteristics of magic and astrology. They are drawn on a
fly-leaf in the original, and on the corresponding leaf at the end is
pencilled the richly quaint conception, which appropriately concludes
the summary of contents.
MAGIC, WITCHCRAFT, ANIMAL MAGNETISM, HYPNOTISM, AND ELECTRO BIOLOGY.
By JAMES BRAID. 1852.
Amicus Plato, amicus Socrates, sed magis amica Veritas.
Mr. Braid has selected a neat motto for his treatise, for the matter
contained in it will hardly warrant the assumption of a more ambitious
title.
[Illustration]
Mr. Braid, of Burlington House, Manchester, a doctor by profession, is
a believer in and exponent of hypnotism. A great portion of his little
work reviews the criticisms on earlier editions, or deals with
statements regarding Colquhoun's 'History of Magic.' Its author, while
rejecting the doctrines known as animal mesmerism and magnetism,
admits the effects they are declared to produce; but he refers such
results to hypnotism--a state of induced sleep--into which a patient
may be thrown by artificial contrivance.
It is possible that the contents of this book would not prove of much
general interest excepting to amateurs of 'animal magnetism;' but we
give one extract, which may prove of service to those who do not
happen to be already informed of the theory it advances, which is one
that every reader can practically test:--
'In my work on hypnotism,' observes Mr. Braid, 'published in 1843, I
explained how "tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," might be
procured, in many instances, through a most simple device, by the
patient himself. All that is required for this purpose is simply to
place himself in a comfortable posture in bed, and then to close the
eyelids, and turn up the eyeballs gently, as if looking at a distant
object, such as an imaginary star, situated somewhat above and behind
the forehead, giving the whole concentrated attention of the mind to
the idea of maintaining a steady view of the star, and breathing
softly, as if in profound attention, the mind at the same time
yielding to the idea that sleep will ensue, and to the tendency to
somnolence which will creep upon him whilst engaged in this act of
fixed attention. Mr. Walker's method of "procuring sleep at will," by
desiring the patient to maintain a fixed act of attention by imagining
himself watching his breath issuing slowly from his nostrils, after
having placed his body in a comfortable position in bed, which was
first published by Dr. Binns, is essentially the same as my own
method, &c.'
[Illustration]
Professor Gregory, in his 'Letters to a Candid Inquirer,' after
describing the induction of sleep effected by reading a class of books
of a dry character, remarks: 'But let these persons (sufferers from a
difficulty in getting off to sleep) try the experiment of placing a
small bright object, seen by the reflection of a safe and distant
light, in such a position that the eyes are strained a little upwards
or backwards, and at such a distance as to give a tendency to
squinting, and they will probably never again have recourse to the
venerable authors above alluded to. Sir David Brewster, who, with more
than youthful ardour, never fails to investigate any curious fact
connected with the eye, has not only seen Mr. Braid operate, but has
also himself often adopted this method of inducing sleep, and compares
it to the feeling we have when, after severe and long-continued bodily
exertion, we sit or lie down and fall asleep, being overcome, in a
most agreeable manner, by the solicitations of Morpheus, to which, at
such times, we have a positive pleasure in yielding, however
inappropriate the scene of our slumbers.'
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Among the contents are numerous instances of magnetism, and anecdotes
of experiments, which have been amusingly 'hit off' in little marginal
sketches. One of the best of these is an illustration of the
contagious dancing mania said to be excited by the bite of the
tarantula spider--'against the effect of which neither youth nor age
afforded any protection, so that old men of ninety threw away their
crutches,' and the very sight of those so affected was equally potent.
These sketches are, however, so small that we think it advisable to
exclude them from our selection. The pantomimic mesmerism produced by
the harlequin's magic wand, and practically seconded by the sly slaps
of the clown, are happily given on the fly-leaf of the treatise; and a
vastly original and startling result of animal magnetism records on
the last page the droller impressions of the artist-reader on the
subject, through the medium of his pencil.
[Illustration: Carried away under the influence of spirits]
FOOTNOTE:
[12] Dr. Earle was formerly Bishop of Worcester, from which see he was
translated to that of Sarum in 1663; he died at Oxford in 1665.