of pilgrimage for the Parsees--and it is not so long since that
fire-worship there has been discontinued. Mr. Charles Marvin (writing
in 1884) commences his most interesting book, ‘The Region of the
Eternal Fire,’ thus: ‘A few years ago a solitary figure might have
been daily seen on the shore of the Caspian Sea, worshipping a fire
springing naturally from the petroleum gases in the ground. The devotee
was a Parsee from India, the last of a series of priests who for more
than two thousand five hundred years had tended the sacred flame upon
the spot. Round about his crumbling temple was rising greasy derricks,
and dingy distilleries--symbols of a fresh cult, the worship of
mammon--but, absorbed in his devotions, the Parsee took no heed of the
intruders. And so time passed on, and the last of the Fire-Worshippers
died, and with him perished the flame that was older than history.’
He stayed some time in Russia, but undertook no more arduous journeys.
Even when he did leave St. Petersburg, on the 9th of July, 1750, he
travelled very leisurely overland, reaching Harwich on the 28th of
October, 1750, after an absence from England of nearly eight years.
He lived in London in a modest fashion, for his fortune was but
modest--yet it was sufficient for him to keep a _solo_ carriage,
_i.e._, only carrying one person, and on its panels was painted a
device allusive to his dangers in Persia, especially of a somewhat
perilous voyage on the Caspian. It consisted of ‘a man dressed in the
Persian habit, just landed in a storm on a rude coast, and leaning on
his sword, his countenance calm and resigned. In the background was
depicted a boat tossed about by the billows; in front, a shield charged
with his arms leaning against a tree, and underneath the motto, in
English, _Never Despair_.’
As a result of his eastern experiences,[80] on his return to England
he used an umbrella, which at that time for a man to carry was
considered somewhat effeminate. He is often credited with having
introduced that useful article into England; but it had been
generally used by women for fifty years previously--nay, there is in
the British Museum (Harl. 630 fol. 15b,) an Anglo-Saxon MS. of the
eleventh century--unmistakeably English in its drawing--wherein is
an illustration of an umbrella being held (by an attendant) over the
head of a king, or nobleman. It is a veritable ‘Sangster,’ and, as
far as form goes, it would pass muster now. From this time the use of
the umbrella became familiar, and in general use among men--probably
because he introduced them of pure silk, whereas hitherto they had been
cumbrous and heavy, being made of oiled paper, muslin, or silk.
He had enough to live on, and, as in those days no one cared about
making a colossal fortune, he lived contentedly on his competence,
and wrote a long description of his travels, which was very well
illustrated, and which cost him £700 to produce his first edition
of one thousand two hundred copies, after which he disposed of the
copyright, and second, third, and fourth editions were published.
Still, the climate of Russia had not agreed with him, and he had to go
to the then fashionable Spa, Tunbridge Wells, and afterwards to Paris,
thence to Brussels, Antwerp, and Amsterdam.
He returned to Tunbridge Wells, where he wrote (in 1753) a treatise
against the Naturalisation of the Jews,[81] which was a question then
being agitated. One can scarcely imagine a man with large sympathies,
as was Jonas Hanway, a travelled man, also, of great experience of
men, taking the narrow view of such a question of social polity.
After a severe fight the Bill was carried (26 Geo. 2) and his Majesty
gave his consent on the 7th of June, 1753,[82] but the opposition
to it was so great that when Parliament next met (15th of November,
1753) the very first business after the address (which only occupied
half-an-hour or so--a valuable hint to present M.P.’s) was to bring in
a bill repealing the privilege of Naturalization to the Jews. Popular
clamour on its behalf was senseless, as it usually is, but it was too
strong to resist, and in the debate thereon, on the 27th of November,
1753, William Pitt (all honour to him) said, ‘Thus, sir, though we
repeal this law, out of complaisance to the people, yet we ought to
let them know that we do not altogether approve of what they ask.’[83]
The Bill was carried on the 28th of November, and received the Royal
Assent on the 20th of December, the same year, and consequently an
injustice was for some time done to some of the loyalest, quietest,
and most law-abiding citizens we have. Hanway, however, thought so
strongly on the subject that he wrote four tractates upon it, which, as
the question is now happily settled, may be dismissed with this brief
notice.
He was naturally of a busy turn of mind, and could not sit still. He
wrote about anything--it did not much matter what--of the paving, etc.
of Westminster and its adjacent parishes; he even wrote a big book,
beautifully illustrated, on a little trip he took, when travelling
was not so common as now, ‘A Journal of Eight days’ Journey from
Portsmouth to Kingston-on-Thames,’ (1756) a second edition of which
was published in two volumes in 1757, with the addition of ‘An Essay
on Tea, considered as pernicious to Health, obstructing Industry, and
impoverishing the Nation.’ So we see he took strong views on things in
general, which have since, by experience, been modified.
His scribbling propensities probably did some good, for in 1757 we
find him taking up the cause of that very meritorious charity, the
Marine Society, to which he was a subscriber to the extent of fifteen
guineas. This society, whose house is in Bishopsgate Street, is still
alive, and, what is more, flourishing. About this he wrote four or five
pamphlets and books. This seems only to have served as a whet to his
appetite for philanthropy, for in 1758 he paid £50 to qualify himself
as a Life-Governor of the Foundling Hospital. This, naturally, led him
to think upon the source whence the foundlings principally came: and he
turned his attention towards the foundation of a Magdalen (?) Hospital,
which was, with the cooperation of several gentlemen, established in
London in 1758, in Great Prescott Street, Goodman’s Fields (the site of
which is now, or used to be, called Magdalen Row).
Many more books and pamphlets on the above subjects, the Foundling
Hospital, the Marine and Stepney Societies, the Encouragement of
British Troops, etc., occupied his leisure until 1760, when he took
in hand the social question of giving fees, or _vails_, to servants,
and wrote two pamphlets on the subject. In one of them are some very
humorous stories of this absurd custom, one, especially, which from its
raciness has become somewhat hackneyed.[84] ‘It is a more _humorous_
Story they tell of ---- after he had dined with ----. The Servants with
assiduous duty had taken the best care of his friend’s _Hat_, _Sword_,
_Cane_, _Cloak_, and among the rest his _Gloves_ also. When he came to
demand them, every Servant, with the most submissive respect, brought
his part of the Old Gentleman’s _personal furniture_, and so many
_Shillings_ were distributed with his usual liberality; but, as he was
going away without his _Gloves_, one of the Servants reminded him of
it, to which he answered, “_No matter, friend, you may keep the Gloves,
they are not worth a Shilling._”’
Hanway tried to do away with this social tax, which, however, remains
to this day. But a very good story is told of Robert Hamilton of
Kilbrachmont.[85] ‘After a party at Kellie Castle the guests were
passing through the Hall where the servants were drawn up to receive
their vails, in those days a customary exaction at great houses. The
gifts of those who preceded “Robbie” (as the Laird was commonly called)
drew forth no expression of gratitude, not even a smile, but when his
turn came for performing the ceremony their features were at once
lighted up with something even approaching to a laugh.
‘“What did you give the fellows, Robbie?” said his friends, when they
got outside; “they looked as sour as vinegar till your turn came.”
‘“Deil a bawbee they got frae me,” said Robbie, “I just kittled their
loof.”’[86]
This system of feeing servants received a crushing blow on the
production (in 1759) of the Rev. James Townley’s farce of ‘High Life
below Stairs,’ which probably led to Hanway’s writing his two pamphlets
on the subject.
He used occasionally to go to Court--but never solicited any place for
himself; still it was thought that his philanthropic exertions should
be rewarded, more especially as he had by no means a large fortune. So
a deputation of five prominent citizens of London, amongst whom was
Hoare the banker, waited on Lord Bute (who was then Prime Minister),
and asked that some substantial recognition of his services should
made. Their representations had weight, and, in July, 1762, he was
appointed one of the commissioners for victualling the Navy.
He was now in easy circumstances, and his official duties could not
have been very heavy, for in that year he wrote four pamphlets on
‘Meditations on Life, &c.,’ ‘Registration of the Parish Poor, and
Ventilation,’ his pet Magdalens, and a ‘Disquisition on Peace and
War’ themes so diverse that they show the variety of subjects that
occupied his serious attention. In fact, he scribbled on an infinity
of things--all having for their aim the benefit of mankind. He had
a financial scheme ‘for saving from Seventy Thousand Pounds to One
Hundred and Fifty Thousand Pounds to the Public;’ he wrote on the ‘Uses
and Advantages of Music;’ the ‘Case of the Canadians at Montreal;’ ‘The
Soldier’s Faithful Friend, being Moral and Religious Advice to private
Men in the Army and Militia;’ the ‘Registration of the Children of
the Poor;’ another pamphlet on the rising generation of the labouring
poor; and, not content with addressing the private soldier, he must
needs write ‘The Christian Officer, addressed to the Officers of his
Majesty’s forces, &c.’
About this time he was evidently most _goody-goody_. He wrote ‘Moral
and Religious Instruction to young Persons;’ ‘Moral and Religious
Instructions, intended for Apprentices among the lower Classes of the
People;’ ‘Letters to the Guardians of the Infant Poor;’ ‘Rules and
Regulations of the Magdalene Hospital, with Prayers, &c.;’ ‘Advice to
a Daughter, on her going to Service, &c.;’ ‘Advice from a Farmer to
his Daughter;’ ‘Observations on the Causes of the Dissoluteness which
reigns among the lower Classes of the People.’
He could not even leave to Mrs. Elizabeth Montague of the
‘Blue-Stocking Club’ notoriety, her championship and patronage of the
poor little climbing boys--and he fired off a pamphlet on ‘The State of
Chimney-Sweepers’ young Apprentices, &c.’ These poor little friendless
mortals excited his pity, and his first efforts in their behalf were
to get them regularly bound apprentices, so as to bring them under
the cognizance of the magistracy; he advocated and inaugurated a
subscription to defray the expense, and supply them with clothes. And
this movement was attended with considerable success, for many boys
were bound apprentices, and some of the masters were prosecuted for
cruelty to their boys.
Then, to show the diversity of his talents, he wrote two pamphlets on
bread, and a book in two volumes on ‘Virtue in humble life, &c.’ In
1775 he published a large quarto volume on ‘The Defects of Police, the
Causes of Immorality, &c.,’ and in the copy which I have before me, is
written, ‘TO THE KING, _with the Author’s most humble Duty_.’ In this
book, among other things, he advocated solitary, or rather isolated
confinement--permitting the prisoners to work, and giving them an
increased dietary according to their labour, This was followed in 1776
by a pamphlet on ‘Solitude in Imprisonment, with proper labour, &c.’
He was now sixty-four years of age, but he was as bodily active as
he was mentally, and in February, 1776, he had to go over to Hamburg
in connection with his duties as one of the commissioners of the
Victualling Board. In 1777, 1778, and 1782, he wrote three books on
the Lord’s Supper--and from that time he wrote, until he died in 1786,
on all sorts of subjects, religious, social, and political, a list of
which would only be wearisome. In the summer of 1786 his health gave
way, and he was evidently sinking, but he lingered until the 5th of
September, when he calmly passed away--perfectly prepared for the great
change, putting on a fine ruffled shirt, giving up his keys, disposing
of some trinkets, and having his will read to him. Death came easily to
him, and he expired with the word ‘Christ’ upon his lips.
Such was the life, and such was the death, of Jonas Hanway, whose
biography is not half well enough known.
A HOLY VOYAGE TO RAMSGATE A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.
This little story, which I very much condense, is most amusing, and is
the work of ‘Henry Blaine, Minister of the Gospel at Tring, Herts.’
I only give it as showing the dread with which any country-bred man,
at that time, put his precious body at the mercy of Father Neptune.
Steam has changed all our habits, but then there were no ‘Globe
Trotters,’--few, if any, climbed the Alps for amusement; the Dolomites
were unknown; people had no steam-yachts and went in pursuit of
perpetual summer; a cruise to the Pacific Islands and Japan was never
dreamt of; there was no Mudie’s library to scatter broadcast holiday
tours, for they never existed--so that we must look upon this relation
of an inland-bred ‘Minister of the Gospel’ (whose long and extremely
pious, but wearisome, exordia I omit) with very different eyes, to a
similar one published in the present day.
It is a tract of fifty-four pages, and commences, ‘In hopes of
recovering that invaluable blessing, health, on Friday, August 10,
1787, I embarked on board the ship FRIENDS bound for RAMSGATE, in
KENT. I had heard there was such a place; and many had raised my
expectations by their reports of the efficacy of sea-bathing; and
others encouraged my hopes by repeating their own experience of benefit
received. By these means I was induced to determine on this little
voyage. It reminded me of the never-to-be-forgotten season, when, urged
by some motives, and impelled by a power unseen, but not unfelt, I
entered on board that stately vessel which the Lord’s prophet saw in a
storm. _Isaiah 54.--11._’
This is a sample of the tract. He then goes on to say: ‘While we waited
for the time of sailing (for different purposes, I suppose), many came
on board, and appeared, to me at least, as if they intended to embark
with us: but they left not the harbour, but, urged by other occasions
and inducements, they took leave of their friends and departed; while
we, who were bound for a distant place, kept steady to our purpose,
turned our backs upon home and waited patiently for the gentle breeze
and driving tide to convey us to the desired port.’
We can well imagine the good man, when he got back to Tring, giving,
for a long time, his soul-harrowing experiences of that memorable
voyage. He should have lived in our days and have been ‘Our Special
Correspondent’ on whom the editor of the newspaper relies to fill so
many columns--for every detail is taken, evidently note-book in hand.
Witness this: ‘When our sails were displayed, and our cable unloosed,
assisted by a gentle gale, we began by degrees to view the lofty
towers, the aspiring churches, and all the grandeurs of London at a
distance behind us: in hopes of finding something we could not find in
town, we turned our attention from the pleasures, and riches, and pomps
of London; we bid farewel, for a time, to our dearest friends; we laid
aside our daily and domestic cares, and cheerfully forsook the dear
delights of home.’
At length they were fairly started on their voyage, which from the
crowded state of the river, and the excessive timidity of the writer,
must have been vastly perilous. ‘Our vessel, though it set sail with
a fair wind, and gently fell down the river towards her destined
port, yet once or twice was nearly striking against other vessels in
the river, to her own injury; but, by the care of the steersman and
sailors, she was timely prevented.... There was no spectacle more
affecting, in all the little voyage, than the bodies of those unhappy
malefactors which were hung up, _in terrorem_, on the margin of the
river Thames. Surely these was some of the execrable characters whom
Justice pursued, who, though “they escaped the sea, yet vengeance
suffered not to live. _Acts 28.--4._” ... Having passed these
spectacles of horror, a fair wind and flowing tide smoothly carried us
towards the boundless ocean....
‘When we drew towards the conflux of the river Thames there were two
objects that attracted our notice: the one, the King’s guardship,
placed there for the purposes of good œconomy, the other a large
painted vessel which floated on the surface of the water, and is called
a buoy. While we were passing the king’s ship, I heard the report
of a cannon, and saw the flash of the charge at some distance; and,
on inquiring the reason of such a circumstance, was informed it was
customary for every ship which passed, by way of obedience, to lower
her topsail; but the firing of the gun made them hasten to show their
obedience, for fear of a more unfavourable salute; for, though a flash
of powder might give us some alarm, the discharge of a ball might make
us _feel_ the effects of disobedience.... Hitherto the generality of
our company appeared to carry jollity and mirth in their countenances;
but now we began to see the blushing rose die in the sickly cheek,
and several of our passengers began to feel the sickening effects
of the rolling sea; they withdrew from their mirth, and in pleasure
crept into a corner, and silently mourned their lost pleasures in
solitude.... Thrice happy the souls who are by divine grace made sick
of unsatisfying delights, and compelled to withdraw from unsatisfying
objects, and seek and find permanent bliss in the friendship of
Immanuel!
‘There had been the appearance of affability and good-humour kept
up among the passengers of our vessel, and a reciprocal exchange of
civilities had passed between them; our bad tempers were for awhile
laid aside, and we seemed mutually agreed to make each other as
innocently happy as our present. If the same mode of conduct was
observed through the whole of our department, how would the ills of
life be softened, and the ties of society sweetened!...
‘The eyelid of the day was now nearly closed upon us, and the gloom
of darkness began to surround us, which, together with the hollow
bellowing of the wind, and dashing waves, had a tendency to create very
solemn ideas in the mind; and I, being a stranger to such scenes, had
my mind exercised upon things of greater importance....
‘About ten o’clock on Friday night we were brought safely into the
harbour of Margate, and then cast anchor in order to set a great
number of our passengers on shore, who were bound for that place of
rendezvous. How great are the advantages of navigation! By the skill
and care of three men and a boy, a number of persons were in safety
conveyed from one part to another of the kingdom....
‘When we had safely landed our passengers at Margate, we weighed anchor
at eleven o’clock at night, in order to sail round the North Foreland
for Ramsgate. The North Foreland is a point of land which stretches out
some way into the sea, and is the extreme part of our country on the
right hand, when we sail down the river Thames; and sailing round the
point into the British Channel is esteemed by sailors rather dangerous.
However, there was danger enough to awaken the apprehensions of a
freshwater sailor. Yet here with some degree of confidence in Him who
exercises His power over the sea and dry land, I laid me down and slept
in quietness, while the rattling waves drove against the sides of our
vessel, and the rustling winds shook our sails, and made our yielding
masts to speak. I was led to reflect that now there was but a feeble
plank between me and the bottomless deep, yet, by a reliance on the
divine goodness, my fears were hushed, and a divine calm prevailed
within. “Thou will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is staid on
thee.” _Isaiah 26.--3._
‘On Saturday morning I awoke and heard a peaceful sound from shore,
which informed me it was two o’clock; and, inquiring where we were, I
found we were safe anchored within the commodious harbour of Ramsgate.
Being so early an hour, we again composed ourselves to sleep, and lay
till five o’clock; then leaving our sleeping apartment, and mounting
the peaceful deck--not like the frighted sailor, who leaves the horrid
hulk to view a thousand deaths from winds, and waves, and rocks,
without a friendly shore in view--but to see one of the finest retreats
from all these dangers, which Providence has provided for the safety of
those who are exposed to the violence and rage of angry elements. The
commodious Pier of Ramsgate seems admirably calculated to shelter and
protect vessels which are threatened with destruction from winds and
waves. This beautiful piece of architecture is built in the form of a
Crescent, or half-moon, the points of which join to the land.... The
whole of this building of utility appeared to bear a clear resemblance
to the glorious Mediator in his offices, who is appointed for a refuge
from the storm....
‘By six in the morning we went on shore, and joyfully met our friends,
who were brought down the day before; but in their passage were
overtaken by a violent storm of thunder and lightning, whilst our
voyage was smooth and prosperous; but, in the morning, we all met
in peace and safety. Thus we sat down to a friendly breakfast, and
cheerfully talked over the adventures of the little voyage. Something
like this, I think, may take place in the state of blessedness....
While we were thus employed, we consulted how to dispose of ourselves
while we continued at Ramsgate; we mutually agreed to form ourselves
into a little family, and though we could not all lodge, yet we wished
to board together in the same house.’ This is a pleasing instance
of _bonne camaraderie_ engendered, in a short time, among agreeable
companions.
‘In order to pursue the design of our coming, some of our company
mixed among the bathers at the seaside. The convenience of bathing,
the coolness of a fine summer’s morning, the agreeable appearance of
company so early, and the novelty of the scene, had a very pleasing
effect.... We began to look around us; and though we were not presented
with objects of taste and elegance, yet the town and environs afforded
us some rural prospects, which yielded both instruction and pleasure.
Upon our left hand, as we ascended from the sea-side, stands the seat
of observation, erected on a point of land, and commanding an extensive
prospect over that part of the sea called the Downs, where you behold
a number of ships lying at anchor, or on their passage to different
parts of the world. From thence you may likewise see the lofty cliffs
of France, and reverberating the light of the sun; while, at the same
time, you may, by way of amusement, watch the motions of every boat
coming in and going out of the harbour; and, as the sea is always
varying, its appearance altogether affords an agreeable amusement. Here
the Company frequently stop to rest themselves after a morning’s or an
evening’s walk, and are sweetly regaled by the cool refreshing breezes
of the sea....