■

UMUftY

tWUVEASJTY OF CALIFORNIA

WVERSIDE

I 'J

COLLECTION

ANCIENT AND MODERN

BRITISH AUTHORS

VOL. LXXJV.

CURIOSITIES OF LITERATURE.

n.

'RIOTED T, CRAPELET, Q, RCE DE VAUG!R\RD.

CURIOSITIES

OF LITERATURE

.

I. DISRAELI, ESQ.D.C.L.F.S. A

Disrae/i; Isaac

VOL. II.

PARIS,

RAUDRY'S EUROPEAN LIBRARY

RUE DU COQ, NEAR THE LOUVRE-

iOLI) ALSO DY AMYOT, RUE BE LA PA1X ; TRUCHY , DOULEVAR1) DES ITAL1ENS

TIIEOPII1LE BARKOIS, JUN., RUE DE RICHELIEU; L1BRAIRIE DES ET8ANGERS,

55, RUE REUVE SAINT-AUGUSTIN , AM) FRENCH AND ENGLISH LIBRARY,

RUE VIVIESSE.

1835

\23S

V, 2

CONTENTS.

Charles the first page 1

Duke of Buckingham .- . . . 4

Death of Charles the ninth 6

Royal promotions 8

Nobility 10

Modes of salutations and amicable ceremonies observed in

various nations ibid.

Singularities of war 13

Fire , and the origin of fire-works 1 4

The Bible prohibited and improved. 17

Origin of the materials of writing 21

Anecdotes of European manners 27

The early drama 34

The marriage of the arts 38

A contrivance in dramatic dialogue 41

The comedy of a madman 42

Solitude 44

Literary friendships 48

Anecdotes of abstraction of mind 51

Richardson 54

Influence of names 57

The Jews of York 66

The sovereignty of the seas 69

On the custom of kissing hands , 71

Popes 72

Literary composition 74

Poetical imitations and similarities 81

Explanation of the fac-simile 97

Literary fashions 99

The pantomimical characters 102

Extcmporal comedies 114

Massinger, Milton, and the Italian theatre.-: . .' 120

vj CONTENTS

Songs of trades , or songs for the people page 124

Introducers of exotic flowers , fruits , etc 131

Usurers of the seventeenth century 1 36

Chidiock Titchbourne 147

Elizabeth and her Parliament 154

Anecdotes of prince Henry , the son of James the first , when a

child 161

The diary of a master of the ceremonies 168

Diaries , moral , historical , and critical 178

Licensers of the press . . . » 187

Of anagrams and echo verses 198

Orthography of proper names 205

Names of our streets 207

Secret history of Edward Vere , earl of Oxford 210

Ancient cookery and cooks 212

Ancient and modern saturnalia 221

Reliquiae Gethinianrc 233

Robinson Crusoe 237

Catholic and protectant dramas 239

History of the theatre during its suppression 243

Drinking customs in England , 252

Literary anecdotes 260

Condemned poets 262

Acajou and Zirphile 266

Tom o' Bedlams 269

Introduction of tea , coffee , and chocolate 274

Charles the first's love of the fine arts 282

Secret history of Charles the first and his queen Henrietta 290

The minister — the cardinal duke of Richelieu 301

The minister — duke of Buckingham , lord admiral , lord ge- neral , etc 307

Felton the political assassin 320

Johnson's hints for the life of Pope 327

SECOND SERIES.

Modern literature — Bayle's critical dictionary 330

Characteristics of Bayle. . 335

Cicero viewed as a collector >>42

The history of the Garacci. 3A t

CONTENTS. vij

An English Academy of literature Pagc 351

Quotation 359

The origin of Dante's Inferno I 363

Of a history of events which have not happened 369

Of false political reports . 378

Of suppressors and dilapidalors of manuscripts 383

Parodies 391

Anecdotes of the Fairfax family 398

Medecine and morals 401

Psalm-singing 407

On the ridicidous titles assumed by the Italian Academies 414

On the hero of Hudibras ; Butler vindicated 423

Shenstone's Schoolmistress 427

Ben Jonson on translation 431

The loves of" the Lady Arabella" 432

CURIOSITIES

OF LITERATURE

CHARLES THE FIRST.

Of his romantic excursion into Spain for the Infanta , many cu- rious particulars are scattered amongst foreign writers , which dis- play the superstitious prejudices which prevailed on this occasion , and, perhaps, develope the mysterious politics of the courts of Spain and Rome.

Cardinal Gaetano, who had long been nuncio in Spain, observes, that the people , accustomed to revere the inquisition as the oracle of divinity, abhorred the proposal of the marriage of the Infanta with an heretical prince 5 but that the king's council, and all wise politicians, were desirous of its accomplishment. Gregory XV, held a consultation of cardinals , where it was agreed that the just ap- prehension which the English catholics entertained of being more cruelly persecuted, if this marriage failed, was a sufficient reason to justify the pope. The dispensation was therefore immediately granted, and sent to the nuncio of Spain , with orders to inform the Prince of Wales , in case of rupture , that no impediment of the marriage proceeded from the court of Rome, who, on the contrary, had expedited the dispensation.

The prince's excursion to Madrid was, however, universally blamed, as being inimical to state-interests. Nani, author of a his- tory of Venice, which according to his digressive manner, is the universal history of his times, has noticed this affair. " The people talked, and the English murmured more than any other nation, to see the only son of the king and heir of his realms venture on so long a voyage, and present himself rather as a hostage than a hus- band to a foreign court, which so widely differed in government and religion, to obtain by force of prayer and supplications a woman

2 CHARLES THE FIRST.

whom Philip and bis ministers made a point of honour and conscience to refuse."

Houssaie observes , "The English council were against it, but Ling James obstinately resolved on it; being over persuaded by Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, whose facetious humour and lively repartees greatly delighted him. Gondomar persuaded him that the presence of the prince would not fail of accomplishing this union , and also the restitution of the electorate to his son-in-law the palatine. Add to this the Earl of Bristol , the English ambassador extraordinary at the court of Madrid, finding it his interest, wrote repeatedly to his majesty that the success was certain if the prince came there, for that the Infanta would be charmed with his personal appearance and polished maimers. It was thus that James, seduced by these two ambassadors , and by his parental affection for both his children, permitted the Prince of Wales to travel into Spain." This account differs from Clarendon.

Wicquefort says, " that James in all this was the dupe of Gon- domar, who well knew the impossibilily of this marriage, which was alike inimical to the interests of politics and the inquisition. For a long lime he amused his majesty with hopes, and even got money for the household expenses of the future queen. He acted his part so well , that the King of Spain recompensed the knave , on his return , with a seal in the council of state." There is preserved in She British Museum a considerable series of letters which passed between James I. and the Duke of Buckingham and Charles, du- ring Iheir residence in Spain.

I shall glean some further particulars concerning this mysterious affair from two English contemporaries, Howel and Wilson, who wrole from their own observations. Howel had been employed in this projected match, and resided during its negotiation at Madrid.

Howel describes the first interview of Prince Charles and the In- fanta. He says, " The Infanta wore a blue riband about her arm, ihat the prince might distinguish her, and as soon as she saw the prince her colour rose very high." — Wilson informs us thai " two days after their interview the prince was inviled to run at the ring , where his fair mistress was a spectator, and to (he glory of his for- tune, and the great contentment both of himself and the lookers on, he took the ring the very first course." Howel, writing from Ma- drid, says u The people here do mightily magnify the gallantry of !he journey, and cry out that he deserved to have the Infanta thrown into his arms the first night he came." The people appear, however, some lime after to doubl if the English had any religion at all. Again, "I have seen the prince have his eyes immovably lived upon the Infanta half an hour together in a thoughtful spe-

CHARLES THE FIRST. 3

culative posture." Olivares , who was no friend to this match , coarsely observed that the prince watched her as a cat does a mouse. Charles indeed acted every thing that a lover in one of the old ro- mances could have done. He once leapt over the walls of her garden, and only retired by the entreaties of the old marquis who then guarded her , and who , falling on his knees , solemnly protested that if the prince spoke to her his head would answer for it. He watched hours in the street to meet with her ; and Wilson says he gave such liberal presents to the court, as well as Buckingham to the Spanish beauties, that the Lord Treasurer Middlesex complained repeatedly of their wasteful prodigality.

Let us now observe by what mode this match was consented to by the courts of Spain and Rome. Wilson informs us that Charles agreed " That any one should freely propose to him the arguments in favour of the catholic religion , without giving any impediment 5 but that he would never, directly or indirectly, permit any one to speak to the Infanta against the same." They probably had tam- pered with Charles concerning his religion. A letter of Gregory XV. to him is perscrved in Wilson's life , but its authenticity has been doubted. Olivares said to Buckingham : You gave me some assu- rance and hope of the prince's turning catholic. The duke roundly answered that it was false. The Spanish minister, confounded at the bluntness of our English duke , broke from him in a violent rage , and lamented that state matters would not suffer him to do himself justice. This insult was never forgiven; and some time afterwards he attempted to revenge himself on Buckingham, by endeavouring to persuade James that he was at the head of a conspiracy against him.

We hasten to conclude these anecdotes , not to be found in the pages of Hume and Smollett. — Wilson says that both kingdoms rejoiced. — " Preparations were made in England to entertain the Infanta ; a new church was built at St. James's, the foundation-stone of which was laid by the Spanish ambassador , for the public exercise of her religion ; her portrait was multiplied in every corner of the town 5 such as hoped to flourish under her eye suddenly began to be powerful. In Spain (as Wilson quaintly expresses himself) the substance was as much courted as the shadow here. Indeed the Infanta, Howel tells us, was applying hard to the English language, and was already called the Princess of England. To conclude , — Charles complained of the repeated delays ; and he and the Spanish court parted with a thousand civilities. The Infanta however obser- ved , that had the Prince loved her , he would not have quitted her."

How shall we dispel those clouds of mystery with which politics

4 CHARLES THE FIRST.

have covered this slrange transaction? It appears that James had in view the restoration of the Palatinate to his daughter, whom he could not effectually assist ; that the court of Rome had speculations of the most dangerous tendency to the Protestant religion ; that the marriage was broken off by that personal haired which existed between Olivares and Buckingham ; and that, if there was any sin- cerity existing between the parlies concerned, it rested with the prince and the Infanta, who were both youthful and romantic , and were but two beautiful ivory balls in the hands of great players.

DURE OF BUCRINGHAM.

The Duke of Buckingham, in his bold and familiar maimer, appears to have been equally a favourite with James 1. and Charles I. He behaved with singular indiscretion both at the courts of France and Spain.

Various anecdotes might be collected from the memoir writers of those countries, to convince us that our court was always little respected by its ill choice of this ambassador. His character is hit off by one master-stroke from the pencil of Hume : " He had," says this penetrating observer of men, "English familiarity and French levity j" so that he was in full possession of two of the most offensive qualities an ambassador can possess.

Sir Henry Wotton has written an interesting life of our duke. At school his character fully discovered itself , even at that early period of life. He would not apply to any serious studies, but Excelled in those lighter qualifications adapted to please in the world. He was a graceful horseman, musician, and dancer. His mother withdrew him from school at the early age of thirteen , and he soon became a domestic favourite. Her fondness permitted him lo indulge in every caprice , and to cultivate those agreeable talents which were natural to him. His person was beautiful, and his manners insinuating. In a word , he was adapted to become a courtier. The fortunate oppor- tunity soon presented Hself; for James saw him, and invited him lo court, and showered on him, with a prodigal hand, the cornucopia of royal patronage.

Houssaie , in his political memoirs , has detailed an anecdote of this duke , only known to the English reader in the general obser- vation of the historian. When he was sent to France, to conduct the Princess Henrietta to the arms of Charles I. , he had the insolence lo converse with the Queen of France, not as an ambassador, but as a lover! The Marchioness of Senecy, her lady of honour, efiragea at seeing this conversation continue , seated herself in the arm-chair of the Queen , who that day was confined to her bed ; she did this

DURE OF BUCKINGHAM. 5

to hinder the insolent duke from approaching the Queen , and pro- bably taking; other liberties. As she observed that he still persisted in the lover, "Sir," she said, in a severe tone of voice, " you must learn to be silent ; it is not thus we address the Queen of France."

This audacity of the duke is further confirmed by Nam* in his sixth book of the History of Venice; an historian who is not apt to take things lightly. For when Buckingham was desirous of once more being ambassador at that court , in 1626 , it was signified by the French ambassador , that for reasons well hnown to himself, his person would not be agreeable to his most Christian majesty. In a romantic threat, the duke exclaimed, he would go and see the queen in spite of the French court : and to this petty affair is to be ascribed the war between the two nations !

The Marshal de Bassompierre , in the journal of his embassy, affords another instance of his "English familiarity." He says, " The King of England gave me a long audience , and a very dis- putatious one. He put himself in a passion , while I , without losing my respect, expressed myself freely. The Duke of Buckingham , when he observed the king and myself very warm , leapt suddenly betwixt his majesty and me , exclaiming , ' I am come to set all to rights betwixt you, which I think is high time.' "

Cardinal Bichelieu hated Buckingham as sincerely as did (he Spaniard 01 Wares. This enmity was apparently owing to the car- dinal writing to the duke without leaving any space open after the title of Monsieur ; the duke , to show his equality , returned his answer in the same " paper - sparing " manner. Bichelieu was jealous of Buckingham, whose favour with the Queen of France was known.

This ridiculous circumstance between Bichelieu and Buckingham reminds me of a similar one , which happened to two Spanish Lords : — One signed at the end of his letter, el Marques (the Marquis), as if the title had been peculiar to himself for its ex- cellence. His national vanity received a dreadful reproof from his correspondent, who, jealous of his equality, signed otko Marques ( another Marquis. )

An anecdote given by Sir Henry Wolton offers a characteristic trait of Charles and his favourite : —

" They were now entered into the deep lime of Lent, and could get no flesh into their inns ; whereupon fell out a pleasant passage ( if I may insert it by the way among more serious ) : — There was near Bayon a herd of goals with their young ones; on which sight Sir Bichard Graham (master of the horse to the marquis) tells the marquis he could snap one of the kids, and make some shift to carry him close to their lodgings; which the prince overhearing , ' Why.

G DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

Richard,' says he , 'do you think you may practise here your old tricks again upon the borders ?' Upon which word they first gave the goat-herd good contentment , and then while the marquis and his servants , being both on foot , were chasing the kid about the flock, the prince from horseback killed him in the head with a Scottish pistol. Let this serve for a journal parenthesis , which yet may show how his highness , even in such light and sportful damage , had a noble sense of just dealing."

THE DEATH OF CHARLES IX.

Dr. C.vyet is an old French controversial writer, but is better known in French literature as an historian. His Chronologic no- venaire is full of anecdotes unknown to other writers. He collected them from his own observations , for he was under preceptor to Henry IY. The dreadful massacre of St. Rarlholomew took place in the reign of Charles IX. ; on which occasion the English court went into mourning. The singular death of Charles has been regarded by the Huguenots as an interposition of divine justice : he died bathed in tiis blood , which burst from his veins. The horrors of this mise- rable prince on his dying bed are forcibly depicted by the anecdotes I am now collecting. I shall premise, however, that Charles was a mere instrument in the hands of his mother , the political and cruel Catherine of Medicis.

Dr. Cayet , with honest naivete , thus relates what he knew to have passed a few hours before his death.

" King Charles , feeling himself near his end , after having pass- ed some time without pronouncing a word , said , as he turned himself on one side , and as if he seemed to awake , ' Call my brother ! ' The queen mother was present , who immediately sent for the Duke of Alencon , (who was afterwards Henri III). The king perceiving him , turned his back , and again said , ' Let my brother come! ' The queen his mother replied, 'Sir, I do not know whom you mean ; here is your brother.' The king was dis- pleased , and said , ' Let them bring my brother the King of Na- varre • it is he who is my brother.' The queen mother observing the dying monarch's resolute order, sent for him; but, for reasons known only to herself , she commanded the captain of the guards to conduct him under the vaults. They went to the King of Na- varre , and desired him to come and speak to the king ; at that mo- ment , this prince has since repeatedly said , he fell a shuddering and apprehension of death so much that he would not go. But King Charles persisting on his coming, the queen mother assured him that he should receive no injury. In this promise , however , he

THE DEATH OF CHARLES IX. 7

put little trust. He went, accompanied by the Viscount dAuehy, on whose word he chiefly relied. Having , however, observed under these vaults a great number of halberdiers and arquebusiers in ranks, he would have returned, when the viscount and the captain re-assured him that no harm should happen to him. The soldiers bowed, and their behaviour was respectful. By a private staircase he entered the chamber of the king , who , immediately on perceiv- ing him, turned towards him, and stretched out his arms. The King of Navarre was affected ; he sighed and wept , and fell on his knees at the side of the bed. Charles embraced , and having kissed him , said , ' My brother, you lose a good master and a good friend I know it is not you who occasions me so much trouble ; had I believed what they said , you would not have been alive ; but 1 have always loved you. It is to you alone I trust my wife and daughter ; earnestly do I recommend them to your care. Do not trust the queen ; but God protect you ! '

" The queen mother here interrupted him , ' Ah, sir, do not say that ! ' — ' Yes , madam , I must say it j it is the truth. Believe me my brother; love me; assist my wife and daughter, and implore God for mercy on me. Adieu my brother, adieu ! ' The King of Na- varre remained till his majesty expired."

The following minute particulars are drawn from the journal of Pierre de TEloile. In the simplicity of his narration , so pleasing in the old writers , the nurse and the monarch ,• the religious re- morse of the one , and the artless consolations of the other, become interesting objects.

'k King Charles, two days before his death, having called for (Mazzille, his chief physician, and complaining of the pains he suffered , asked him if it was not possible that he , and so many other celebrated physicians that were in his realms, could give some alleviation to his disorder; ' for I am, ' said he, ' cruelly and hor- ridly tormented. ' To which Mazzille replied, that whatever had depended on them had been tried , but that in truth God only couid be the sovereign physician in such complaints. ' I believe ,' said the king , ' that what you say is true , and that you know nothing else. Draw from me my custode (or large cap), that I may try to rest. [\Jazzjlle withdrew, and left orders that all should leave the king except three, viz. La Tour, St. Pris, and his nurse, whom his ma- jesty greally loved , although .she was a huguenot. As she had jus! sealed herself on a coffer, and began to doze, she heard the king groan bitterly, weeping and sighing; she then approached the bed softly, and drawing away his custode, Ihe king said to her, giving vent in a heavy sigh, and shedding tears plentifully, insomuch thai they interrupted his discourse — Ah! my dear nurse! my beloved

S THE DEATH OF CHARLES IX.

woman , what blood ! what murders ! Ah ! I have followed wicked advice ! O my God ! pardon me , and be merciful. I know not where I am , they have made me so perplexed and agitated. How will all this end? — What shall I do? I am lost for ever ! I know it.' — Then the nurse thus addressed him : — ' Sire , be the murders on those who forced you to order them ; your majesty could not help it, and since you never consented , and now regret them , believe God will never impute them to you , and will cover them with the mantle of justice of his Son, to whom alone you should look for aid. Ah ! for the honour of God, let your majesty cease from this weeping.1 Having said this , she rose for a handkerchief, for his was drenched with tears : Charles having taken it from her, made a sign that she should retire and leave him to repose."

The dreadful narrative of the massacre of St. Bartholomew is detailed in the history of De Thou ; and the same scene is painted in glowing, though in faithful colours, by Voltaire in the Henriade. — Charles , whose last miserable moments we come from contem- plating . when he observed several fugitive Huguenots about his palace in the morning after the massacre of 30,000 of their friends , took a fowling-piece, and repeatedly fired at them.

Such was the effect of religion operating , perhaps, not on a malig- nant, but on a feeble mind!

ROYAL PROMOTIONS.

If the golden gate of preferment is not usually opened to men of real merit , persons of no worth have entered it in a most extraor- dinary manner.

Chevreau informs us that the Sultan Osman having observed a gardener planting a cabbage with some peculiar dexterity, the manner so attracted his imperial eye that he raised him to an office near his person , and shortly afterwards he rewarded the planter of cabbages by creating him bcglerbeg or viceroy of the Isle of Cyprus.

Marc Antony gave the house of a Roman citizen to a cook , who had prepared for him a good supper ! Many have been raised to extraordinary preferment by capricious monarchs for the sake of a jest. Lewis XL promoted a poor priest whom he found sleeping in the porch of a church, that the proverb might be verified, that to lucky men good fortune will come even when they are asleep! Our Henry VII. made a viceroy of Ireland if not for the sake of, at least with a clench. When the king was told that all Ireland could not rule the Earl of Kildare , he said , then shall this carl rule all Ireland.

It is recorded of Hcnrv VI II. that he raised a servant to a con-

ROYAL PROMOTIONS. 9

siderable dignity because he had laken care lo have a roasted hoar prepared for him , when his majesty happened to he in the humour of feasting on one ! and the title of Sugar-loaf-court, in Leadenhall- street , was probably derived from another piece of munificence of this monarch : tiie widow of a Mr. Cornwallis was rewarded by the gift of a dissolved priory there situated, for some fine puddings with which she had presented his majesty !

When Cardinal de Monte was elected pope , before he left the conclave he bestowed a cardinal's hat upon a servant , whose chief merit consisted in the daily attentions he paid to his holiness's monkey !

Louis Barbierowed all his good fortune to the familiar knowledge he had of Rabelais. He knew his. Rabelais by heart. This served to introduce him to the Duke of Orleans , who took great pleasure in reading that author. It was for this he gave him an abbey, and he was gradually promoted till he became a cardinal.

George Villiers was suddenly raised from a private station , and loaded with wealth and honours by James the First , merely for his personal beauty. Almost all the favourites of James became so from their handsomeness.

M. de Chamillart, minister of France, owed his promotion merely to his being the only man who could beat Louis XIV. at billiards. He retired with a pension, after ruining the finances of his country.

The Duke of Luynes was originally a country lad , who insinua- ted himself into the favour of Louis XIII. then young, by making bird-traps (pies-grieches) to catch sparrows. It was little expected, ( says Voltaire , ) that these puerile amusements were to be termina- ted by a most sanguinary revolution. De Luynes , after causing his patron the Marshal of Ancre , lo be assassinated , and the queen mother to be imprisoned , raised himself to a title and the most tyrannical power.

Sir Walter Raleigh owed his promotion to an act of gallantry to Queen Elizabeth , and Sir Christopher Hatton owed his preferment to his dancing : Queen Elizabeth , observes Granger, with all her sagacity, could not see the future lord chancellor in the fine dancer. The same writer says , " Nothing could form a more curious collec- tion of memoirs than anecdotes of preferment."'' Could the secret history of great men be traced , it would appear that merit is rarely the first step to advancement. It would much oftener be found to be? owing to superficial qualifications , and even vices.

NOBILITY.

Francis the First was accustomed to say, that when the nobles of his kingdom came to court, they were received by the world as so many little kings j that the day after they were only beheld as so many princes; but on the third day they were merely considered as so many gentlemen , and were confounded among the crowd of courtiers.— It was supposed that this was done with a political view of humbling the proud nobility 5 and for this reason Henry IV. frequently said aloud , in the presence of the princes of the blood , We are all gentlemen.

It is recorded of Philip the Third of Spain , that while he exacted the most punctilious respect from the grandees, he saluted the peasants. He would never be addressed but on the knees ; for which he gave this artful excuse, that as he was of low stature, every one would have appeared too high for him. He showed himself rarely even to his grandees, that he might the better support his haughtiness and repress their pride. He also affected to speak to lliem by half words ; and reprimanded them if they did not guess at the rest. In a word, he omitted nothing that could mortify his nobility.

MODES OF SALUTATION , AND AMICABLE CEREMONIES , OBSERVED IN VARIOUS NATIONS.

When men, writes the philosophical compiler of " V Esprit das Usages et des coutdmes ," salute each other in an amicable manner, it signifies little whether they move a particular part of the body, or practise a particular ceremony. In these actions there must exist different customs. Every nation imagines it employs the most reasonable ones; but all are equally simple , and none are to be treated as ridiculous.

This infinite number of ceremonies may be reduced to two kinds ^ to reverences or salutations , and to the touch of some part of the human body. To bend and prostrate oneself to express sentiments of respect , appears to be a natural motion ; for terrified persons throw themselves on the earth when they adore invisible beings ; and the affectionate touch of the person they salute is an expression of tenderness.

As nations decline from their ancient simplicity, much farce and grimace are introduced. Superstition , the manners of a people, and their situation , influence the modes of salutation ] as may be observ- ed from the instances we collect.

Modes of salutation have sometimes verv different chancier..

SALUTATIONS AND CEREMONIES, etc. 11

and it is no uninteresting speculation to examine their shades. Many display a refinement of delicacy, while others are remarkable for their simplicity, or for their sensibility. In general, however, they arc frequently the same in the infancy of nations, and in more polished societies. Respect, humility, fear, and esteem , are express- ed much in a similar manner, for these are the natural consequences of the organisation of the body.

These demonstrations become in time only empty civilities which signify nothing 5 we shall notice what they were originally, without reflecting on what they are.

Primitive nations have no peculiar modes of salutation 5 they know no reverences or other compliments , or they despise and disdain them. The Greenlanders laugh when they see an European uncover his head , and bend his body before him whom he calls his superior.

The Islanders , near the Philippines , take the hand or foot of him they salute , and with it they gently rub their face. The Lap- landers apply their nose strongly against that of the person they salute. Dampier says , that at New Guinea they are satisfied to put on their heads the leaves of trees , which have ever passed for symbols of friendship and peace. This is at least a picturesque salute.

Other salutations are very incommodious and painful ; it requires great practice to enable a man to be polite in an island situated in the straits of the Sound. Houtman tells us they saluted him in this grotesque manner : ' ' They raised his left foot , which they passed gently over the right leg, and from thence over his face.'1 The inhabitants of the Philippines use a most complex attitude 5 they bend their body very low , place their hands on their cheeks , and raise at the same time one foot in the air with their knee bent. • An Ethiopian takes the robe of another, and ties it about his own waist, so that he leaves his friend half naked. This custom of un- dressing on these occasions takes other forms 5 sometimes men place themselves naked before the person whom they salute ; it is to show their humility, and that they are unworthy of appearing in his pre- sence. This was practised before Sir Joseph Banks, when he receiv- ed the visit of two female Otaheitans. Their innocent simplicity, no doubt, did not appear immodest in the eyes of the virtuoso.

Sometimes they only undress partially. The Japanese only take off a slipper-, the people of Arracan their sandals in the street, and their stockings in the house.

In the progress of time it appears servile to uncover oneself. The grandees of Spain claim the right of appearing covered before the king , to show that they are not so much subjected lo him as the rest

1-2 SALUTATIONS AND CEREMONIES

of (he nation : and (this writer truly observes) we may remark that the English do not uncover their heads so much as the other na- tions of Europe. Mr. Hohhouse observes that uncovering the head, with the Turks , is a mark of indecent faamiliarily • in their mosques the Franks must keep their hats on. The Jewish custom of wearing their hats in their synagogues is, doubtless, the same oriental custom.

In a word, there is not a nation, observes the humorous Mon- taigne , even to the people who when they salute turn their backs on their friends, but that can be justified in their customs.

The negroes are lovers of ludicrous actions , and hence all their ceremonies seem farcical. The greater part pull the fingers till they crack. Snelgrave gives an old representation of the embassy which the king of Dahomy sent to him. The ceremonies of salutation con- sisted in the most ridiculous contortions. When two negro mo- narchs visit, they embrace in snapping three times the middle iinger.

Barbarous nations frequently imprint on their salutations the dis- positions of their character. When the inhabitants of Carmena (says Alhenaeus) would show a peculiar mark of esteem , they breathed a vein, and presented for the beverage of their friend the flowing blood. The Franks lore the hair from their head , and presented it to the person they saluted. The slave cut his hair, and offered it to his master.

The Chinese are singularly affected in their personal civilities. They even calculate the number of their reverences. These are the most remarkable postures. The men move their hands in an affectio- nate manner, while they are joined together on the breast , and bow their head a little. If they respect a person, they raise their hands joined, and then lower them to the earth in bending the body. If two persons meet after a long separation, they both fall on their knees and bend the face to the earth , and this ceremony they repeat two or three limes. Surely we may differ here with the sentiment of Montaigne, and confess this ceremony to be ridiculous. It arises from their national affectation. They substitute artificial ceremonies for natural actions.

Their expressions mean as little as their ceremonies. If a Chinese is asked how he finds himself in health? He answers, Very well; thanks to your abundant felicity. If they would tell a man that he looks well, they say, Prosperity is painted on your face; or, 1 our air announces your happiness.

If you render them any service , they say, My thanks shall be immortal. If you praise them, they answer, How shall I dare to persuade myself of what you say of me? If voudine with them.

OBSERVED IN DIFFERENT NATIONS. IS

Ihey loll you at parting, JVehave not treated youwilh sufficient distinction^. The various lilies Ihey invent for each other it would be impossible to translate.

It is to be observed that all these answers are prescribed by the Chinese ritual, or Academy of Compliments. There, are determined the number of bows 5 the expressions to bo employed ; the genuflex- ions , and the inclinations which are to be made to the right or left hand ; the salutations of the master before the chair where the stranger is to be seated, for he salutes it most profoundly, and wipes the dust away with the skirts of his robe ; all these and other things arc noticed, even to the silent gestures by which you are entreated to enter the house. The lower class of people are equally nice in these punctilios; and ambassadors pass forty days in practising them be- fore they are enabled to appear at court. A tribunal of ceremonies has been erected; and every day very odd decrees arc issued, to which the Chinese most religiously submit.

The marks of honour are frequently arbitrary ; to be seated with us is a mark of repose and familiarity : to stand up , that of respect. There are countries, however, in which princes will only be address- ed by persons who arc seated , and it is considered as a favour to be permitted to stand in their presence. This custom prevails in despotic countries : a despot cannot suffer without disgust the elevated figure of his subjects 5 he is pleased to bend their bodies with their genius; his presence must lay those who behold him prostrate on the earth ; he desires no eagerness, no attention ,• he would only inspire terror.

SINGULARITIES OF WAR.

War kindles enthusiasm , and therefore occasions strange laws and customs. We may observe in it whatever is most noble and he- roic , mixed with what is most strange and wild. We collect facts, and the reader must draw his own conclusions.

They frequently condemned at Carthage their generals to die after an unfortunate campaign, although they were accused of no other fault. We read in Du Haldc that Captain Mancheou , a Chi- nese , was convicted of giving battle without obtaining a complete victory, and he was punished. — With such a perspective at the con- clusion of a battle, generals will become intrepid, and exert them- selves as much as possible, and this is all that is wanted.

When the savages of New France take flight , they pile the wounded in baskets, where they are bound and corded down as we do chil- dren in swaddling-clothes. — If Ihey should happen to fall into the hands of the conquerors, they would expire in the midst of torments.

14 SINGULARITIES OF WAR.

It is belter therefore that the vanquished should carry them away in any manner, though frequently even at the risk of their lives.

The Spartans were not allowed to combat often with the same enemy. They wished not to inure these to battle; and if their ene- mies revolted frequently, they were accustomed to exterminate them.

The governors of the Scythian provinces gave annually a feast to those who had valiantly, with their own hands, despatched their enemies. The skulls of the vanquished served for their cups; and the quantity of wine they were allowed to drink was proportioned to the number of skulls they possessed. The youth , who could not yet boast of such martial exploits , contemplated distantly the solemn feast, without being admitted to approach it. The institution formed courageous warriors.

War has corrupted the morals of the people , and has occasioned them to form horrible ideas of virtue. When the Portuguese attack- ed Madrid, in the reign of Philip V., the courtesans of that city were desirous of displaying their patriotic zeal : those who were most convinced of the envenomed state of their body perfumed them- selves, and went by night to the camp of the enemy ; the conse- quence was that in less than three weeks there were more than six thousand Portuguese disabled with venereal maladies, and the greater part died.

Men have frequently fallen into unpardonable contradictions, in attempting to make principles and laws meet which could never agree with each other. The Jews suffered themselves to be attacked without defending themselves on the Sabbath-day , and the Romans profited by these pious scruples. The council of Trent ordered the body of the constable of Bourbon, who had fought against the Pope, le be dug up, as if the head of the church was not as much subject- ed to war as others, since he is a temporal prince.

Pope Nicholas , in his answer to the Bulgarians, forbids them to make war in Lent , unless , he prudently adds , there be an urgent necessity.

FIRE, AND THE ORIGIN OF FIRE-WORKS.

In the Memoirs of the French Academy, a little essay on this subject is sufficiently curious 5 the following contains the facts : —

Fire-wouks were not known to antiquity. — It is certainly a modern invention. If ever the ancients employed fires at their festi- vals, it was only for religious purposes.

Fire , in primeval ages , was a symbol of respect , or an instru- ment of terror. In both these ways God manifested himself to man.

FIRE, A1ND THE ORIGIN OF FIRE-WORKS. 15

In Ihe holy writings ho compares himself sometimes to an ardent lire , to display his holiness and his purity ; sometimes he renders himself visible under the form of a burning bush , to express himself to be as formidable as a devouring fire : again , he rains sulphur ; and often , before he speaks , he attracts the attention of the multi- tude by flashes of lightning.

Fire was worshipped as a divinity by several idolaters : the Pla- (onisls confounded it with the heavens , and considered it as the divine intelligence. Sometimes it is a symbol of majesty. — God walked ( if we may so express ourselves ) with his people , preceded by a pillar of fire; and the monarchs of Asia, according to Herodo- tus, commanded that such ensigns of their majesty should be carried before them. These fires , according to Quintus Curtius, were con- sidered as holy and eternal , and w ere carried at the head of their armies on little altars of silver, in the midst of the magi who accom- panied them and sang their hymns.

Fire was also a symbol of majesty amongst the Romans ; and if it was used by them in their festivals , it was rather employed for Ihe ceremonies of religion than for a peculiar mark of their rejoi- cings. Fire was always held to be most proper and holy for sacrifices 5 in this the Pagans imitated the Hebrews. The fire so carefully pre- served by the Ycstals was probably an imitation of that which fell from heaven on the victim offered by Aaron , and long afterwards religiously kept up by the priests. Servius , one of the seven kings of Rome, commanded a great fire of straw to be kindled in the pub- lic place of every town in Italy to consecrate for repose a certain day in seed-lime, or sowing.

The Greeks lighted lamps at a. certain feast held in honour of Mi- nerva, who gave them oil ; of Vulcan, who was the inventor of lamps ; and of Prometheus, who had rendered them service by the fire which he had stolen from heaven. Another feast to Bacchus was celebrated by a grand nocturnal illumination , in which wine was poured forth profusely to all passengers. A feast in memory of Ceres , who sought so long in the darkness of hell for her daughter, was kept by burn- ing a number of torches.

Great illuminations were made in various other meetings ; parti- cularly in the Secular Games, which lasted three whole nights; and so carefully were Ihcy kept up , that these nights had no darkness.

In all their rejoicings the ancients indeed used fires ; but they were intended merely to burn their sacrifices , and which, as the genera- lity of them were performed at night, the illuminations served to give light to the ceremonies.

Artificial fires were indeed frequently used by them , but not in public rejoicings ; like us , they employed Ihcm for military pur-

Ui FIRE, AND THE ORIGIN OF FIRE-WORKS.

poses ; but we use them likewise successfully for our decorations and amusement.

From the latest times of paganism to the early ages of Christia- nity, we can but rarely quote instances of fire lighted up for other purposes, in a public form, lhan for the ceremonies of religion; illuminations were made at the baptism of princes, as a symbol of that life of light in which they were going to enter by faith ; or at the tombs of martyrs , to light them during the watchings of the night. All these were abolished , from the various abuses they in- troduced.

We only trace the rise of feuoc de joie , or fire-works, given merely for amusing spectacles to delight the eye , to the epocha of the invention of powder and cannon , at the close of the thirteenth century. It was these two inventions, doubtless , whose effects fur- nished the ideas of ail those machines and artifices which form the charms of diese fires.

To the Florentines and the Siennese are we indebted not only for the preparation of powder with other ingredients to amuse the eyes , but also for the invention of elevated machines and decorations adapted to augment the pleasure of the spectacle. They began their attempts at the feasts of Saint John the Baptist and the Assumption, on wooden edifices, which they adorned with painted statues , from whose mouth and eyes issued a beautiful fire. Callot has engraven numerous specimens of the pageants, triumphs, and processions, under a great variety of grotesque forms: — dragons, swans, eagles , etc., which were built up large enough to carry many per- sons , while they vomited forth the most amusing fire-works.

This use passed from Florence to Rome , where , at the creation of the popes , they displayed illuminations of hand-grenadoes , thrown from the height of a castle. Pyrotechnics from that time have become an art , which , in the degree the inventors have dis- played ability in combining the powers of architecture , sculpture, and painting , have produced a number of beautiful effects, which even give pleasure to those who read the descriptions without hav- ing beheld them.

A pleasing account of decorated fire-works is given in the Secret Memoirs of France. In August, 1764, Torre, an IlalLn artist, ob- tained permission to exhibit a pyrotechnic operation. — The Paris- ians admired the variety of the colours , and the ingenious forms of his fire. But his first exhibition was disturbed by the populace, as well as by the apparent danger of the fire , although it was displayed on the Boulevards. In October it was repeated; and proper precau- tions having been taken , they admired the beauty of the fire, with- out fearing it. These artificial fires are described as having been

FIRE, A1ND THE ORIGIN OF FIRE-WORKS. 17

rapidly and splendidly executed. The exhibition closed with a trans- parent triumphal arch, and a curtain illuminated by the same fire, admirably exhibiting the palace of Pluto. Around the columns , stanzas were inscribed , supported by Cupids , with other fanciful embellishments. Among these little pieces of poetry appeared the following one , which ingeniously announced a more perfect exhi- bition :

Les vents, les frimats, les orages,

Eteindront ces jecx, pour un tems; Mais, aiusi que les fleurs , avec plus d'avantage ,

lis renaitront dans le printems.

IMITATED.

The icy gale, the falling snow,

Extinction to these fires shall bring • But, like the flowers , with brighter glow,

They shall renew their charms in spring.

The exhibition was greatly improved, according to this promise of the artist. His subject was chosen with much felicity : it was a representation of the forges of Vulcan under Mount ./Etna. The in- terior of the mount discovered Vulcan and his Cyclops. Venus was seen to descend , and demand of her consort armour for jEneas. — Opposite to this was seen the palace of Vulcan , which presented a deep and brilliant perspective. The labours of the Cyclops produced numberless very happy combinations of artificial fires. The public with pleasing astonishment beheld the effects of the volcano, so ad- mirably adapted to the nature of these fires. At another entertain- ment he gratified the public with a representation of Orpheus and Eurydice in hell ; many striking circumstances occasioned a mar- vellous illusion. What subjects indeed could be more analogous to this kind of fire ? Such scenical fire-works display more brilliant ef- fects than our stars, wheels, and rockets.

THE BIBLE PROHIBITED AND IMPROVED.

The following are the express words contained in the regulation of the popes to prohibit the use of the Bible.

"As it is manifest by experience , that if the use of the holy wri- ters is permitted in the vulgar tongue more evil than profit will arise, because of the temerity of man ; it is for this reason all Bibles are prohibited ( prohibentur Biblia) with all their parts , whether they be printed or written, in whatever vulgar language soever ; as also are prohibited all summaries or abridgments of Bibles , or any books of the holy writings , although they should only be historical , and that in whatever vulgar tongue they may be written."

It is there also said, "That the reading the Bibles of catholic

18 THE BIBLE PROHIBITED AND IMPROVED.

editors may be permitted to those by whose perusal or power the faith may be spread, and who will not criticise it. But this permis- sion is not to be granted without an express order of the bishop , or the inquisitor, with the advice of the curate and confessor ,• and their permission must first be had in writing. And he who, without permission , presumes to read the holy writings, or to have I hem in his possession, shall not be absolved of his^sins before he first shall have returned the Bible to his bishop."

A Spanish author says , that if a person should come to his bishop to ask for leave to read the Bible , with the best intention , the bishop should answer him from Matthew, ch. xx. ver. 20 , " You know not what you ask." And indeed , he observes, the nature of this demand indicates an heretical disposition.

The reading of the Bible was prohibited by Henry VIII. except by those who occupied high offices in the state; a noble lady or gentlewoman might read it in " their garden or orchard," or other retired places ; but men and women in the lower ranks were posi- tively forbidden to read it , or to have it read to them , under the penalty of a month's imprisonment.

Dr. Franklin has preserved an anecdote of the prohibited Bible in the lime of our Catholic Mary. His family had an English Bible; :ind to conceal it the more securely , they conceived the project of fastening it open with packthreads across the leaves , on the inside of the lid of a close-stool! When my great grandfather wished to read to his family, he reversed the lid of the close stool upon his knees, and passed the leaves from one side to the other , which were held down on each by the packthread. One of the chil- dren was stationed at the door to give notice if he saw an officer of the Spiritual Court make his appearance ; in that case the lid was restored to its place, with the Bible concealed under it as before.

The reader may meditate on what the popes did, and what they probably would have done, had not Lutherhappily been in a humour to abuse the pope , and begin a Reformation. It would be curious to sketch an account of the probable situation of Europe at the present moment , had the pontiffs preserved the omnipotent power of which they had gradually possessed themselves.

It appears by an act dated in 1516, that the Bible was called Bi- bliotheca , that is per enrphasim , the Library. The word library was limited in its signification then to the biblical writings ; no other books , compared with the holy writings , appear to have been worthy to rank with them, or constitute what we call a library.

We have had several remarkable attempts to recompose the Bible ; Dr. Geddes's version is aridly literal, and often ludicrous by its vul- garity ; as when he translates the Passover as the Skip-over, and

THE BIBLE PROHIBITED AND IMPROVED. 19

introduces Constables among the ancient Israelites • but the follow- ing attempts are of a very different kind. Sebastian Castillon — who afterwards changed his name to Castallon , with his accustomed af- fectation referring to Cqistalia, the fountain of the Muses — took a very extraordinary liberty with the sacred writings. He fancied he could give the world a more classical version of the Bible , and for this purpose introduced phrases and entire sentences from profane writers into the text of holy writ. His whole style is finically quaint , overloaded with prettinesscs , and all the ornaments of false taste. Of the noble simplicity of the Scripture he seems not to have had the remotest conception.

But an attempt by Pere Berruyer is more extraordinary ; in his Histoire du Peuple de Dieu , he has recomposed the Bible as he would have written a fashionable novel. He conceives that the great legislator of the Hebrews is too barren in his descriptions , too con- cise in the events he records , nor is he careful to enrich his history by pleasing reflections and interesting conversation-pieces, and hurries on the catastrophes , by which means he omits much enter- taining matter : as for instance , in the loves of Joseph and the wife of Potiphar, Moses is very dry and concise , which , however, our Pere Berruyer is not. His histories of Joseph , and of King David , are relishing morsels , and were devoured eagerly in all the bou- doirs of Paris. Take a specimen of the style. ""Joseph combined with a regularity of features , and a brilliant complexion , an air of the noblest dignity •, all which contributed to render him one of the most amiable men in Egypt.11 At length " she declares her passkm , and pressed him to answer her. It never entered her mind that the advances of a woman of her rank could ever be rejected. Joseph at first only replied to all her wishes by his cold embarrassments. She would not yet give him up. In vain he flics from her \ she was too passionate to waste even the moments of his astonishment.11 This good father, however, does ample justice to the gallantry of the Pa- triarch Jacob. He offers to serve Laban seven years for Rachel. " Nothing is too much ," cries the venerable novelist, " when one really loves •," and this admirable observation he confirms by the facility with which the obliging Rachel allows Leah for one night to her husband ! In this manner the patriarchs are made to speak in the tone of the lenderest lovers ; Judith is a Parisian coquette , Holofernes is rude as a German baron 5 and their dialogues are tedious with all the reciprocal politesse of metaphysical French lovers? Moses in the desert, it was observed , is precisely as pedantic as Pere Berruyer addressing his class at the university. One cannot but smile at the following expressions : tkBy the easy manner in which God performed miracles, one might easily perceive they

50 THE BIBLE PROHIBITED AND IMPROVED.

cost no effort." When he has narrated an "Adventure ofthe Pa- triarchs," he proceeds, " After such an extraordinary, or curious, or interesting adventure ," etc. This good father had caught the language of the beau mondc , but with such perfect simplicity that, in employing it on sacred history, he was not aware ofthe ludicrous he was writing.

A Gothic bishop translated the Scriptures into the Goth language , but omitted the Boohs of Kings! lest the wars , of which so much is there recorded , should increase their inclination to fighting , al- ready too prevalent. Jortin notices this castrated copy ofthe Bible in his Remarks on Ecclesiastical History.

As the Bible , in many parts , consists merely of historical transac- tions , and as too many exhibit a detail of offensive ones , it has often occurred to the fathers of families , as well as to the popes , to prohi- bit its general reading. Archbishop Tillolson formed a design of pu- rifying the historical parts. Those who have given us a Family Shakspeare , in the same spirit may present us with a Family- Bible.

In these attempts to recompose the Bible , the broad vulgar collo- quial diction , which has been used by our theological writers , is less tolerable than the quaintness of Caslalion and the floridity of Pere Berruyer.

The style now noticed long disgraced the writings of our divines ; and we see it sometimes still employed by some of a certain stamp. Mattew Henry, whose Commentaries are well known, writes in this manner on Judges ix. — "We are here told by what acts Abimelech got into the saddle. — None would have dreamed of making such a fellow as he king. — See how he has wheedled them into the choice. He hired into his service the scum and scoundrels of the country. Jotham was really a fine gentleman. — The Sechemites that set Abimelech up , were the first to kick him off*. The Sechem- ites said all the ill they could of him in their table-talk; they drank healths to his confusion. — Well , Gaal's interest in Sechem is soon at an end. Exit Gaol!''

Lancelot Addison , by the vulgar coarseness of his style , forms an admirable contrast with the amenity and grace of his son's Spec- tators. He tells us , in his voyage to Barbary, that " A rabbin once lold him, among other heinous stuff, that he did not expect the felicity of the next world on the account of any merits but his own , whoever kept the law would arrive at the bliss, by coming upon his own legs.^

it must be confessed that the rabbin , considering he could not conscientiously have the same creed as Addison, did not deliver any very " heinous stuff," in believing that other people's merits have

THE BIBLE PROHIBITED AND IMPROVED. 21

nothing to do with our own 5 and that " we should stand on our own legs ! " But this was not " proper words in proper places! "

ORIGIN OF THE MATERIALS OF WRITING.

It is curious to observe the various subsitutes for paper before its discovery.

Ere the invention of recording events by writing, trees were planted , rude altars were erected , or heaps of stone , to serve as memorials of past events. Hercules probably could not write when he fixed his famous pillars.

The most ancient mode of writing was on bricks, tiles, and oyster-shells , and on tables of stone; afterwards on plates of va- rious materials , on ivory, on barks of trees , on leaves of trees. l

Engraving memorable events on hard substances was giving , as it were , speech to rocks and metals. In the book of Job mention is made of writing on stone , on rocks , and on sheets of lead. On tables of stone Moses received the law written by the finger of God. Hesiods works were written on leaden tables : lead was used for writing , and rolled up like a cylinder, as Pliny slates. Montfaucon notices a very ancient book of eight leaden leaves , which on the back had rings fastened by a small leaden rod to keep them toge- ther. They afterwards engraved on bronze : the laws of the Cretans were on bronze tables ; the Romans etched their public records on brass. The speech of Claudius, engraved on plates of bronze , is yet preserved in the town-hall of Lyons, in France. Several bronze ta- bles, with Etruscan characters , have been dug up in Tuscany. The treaties between the Romans , Spartans , and the Jews , were written on brass ; and estates , for better security, were made over on this enduring metal. In many cabinets may be found the discharges of soldiers, written on copper-plates. This custom has been discovered in India : a bill of feoffment on copper has been dug up near Bengal, dated a century before the birth of Christ.

Among these early inventions many were singularly rude, and

' Specimens of most of these modes of writing may be seen at the British Museum. No. 3478, in the Sloanian library, is a Nabob's letter, on a piece of bark, about two yards long, and richly ornamented with gold. No. 3207 is a book of Mexican hieroglyphics, painted on bark. In the same collection are various species, many from the Malabar coast and the East. The latter writings are chiefly on leaves. There are several copies of Bibles written on palm leaves. The ancients , doubtless, wrote on any leaves they found adapted for the purpose. Hence the leaf oi a book , alluding to that of a tree , seems to be derived. At the British Museum we have also Babylonian ides , or broken pots , which the people used, and made their contracts of business on; a custom mentioned in the Scriptures.

22 ORIGI1N OF THE MATERIALS OF WRITING.

miserable substitutes for a better material. In the shepherd state they wrote their songs with thorns and awls on straps of leather, which they wound round their crooks. The Icelanders appear to have scratched their runes , a kind of hieroglyphics, on walls ; and Olof, according to one of the Sagas, built a large house, on the bulks and spars of which he had engraved the history of his own and more ancient limes 5 while another northern hero appears to have had nothing better than his own chair and bed to perpetuate his own heroic acts on. At the town-hall, in Hanover, are kept twelve wooden boards , overlaid with bees' wax, on which are written the names of owners of houses , but not the names of streets. These ■wooden ma- nuscripts must have existed before 1423 , when Hanover was first divided into streets. Such manuscripts may be found in public col- lections. These are an evidence of a rude stale of society. The same event occurred among the ancient Arabs, who, according to the his- tory of Mahomet , seem lo have carved on the shoulder-bones of sheep remarkable events with a knife , and tying them with a string hung up these sheep-bone chronicles.

The laws of the twelve tables which the Romans chiefly copied from the Grecian code were , after they had been approved by the people , engraven on brass : they were melted by lightning , which struck the Capitol ; a loss highly regretted by Augustus. This manner of writing we still retain, for inscriptions , epitaphs , and other me- morials designed to reach posterity.

These early inventions led to the discovery of tables of wood; and as cedar has an antiseptic quality from its bitterness , they chose this wood for cases or chests to preserve their most important writ- ings. This well known expression of the ancients, when they meant to give the highest eulogium of an excellent work , et cedro digna locuti , that it was worthy to be written on cedar, alludes to the oil of cedar, with which valuable MSS. of parchment were anointed, to preserve them from corruption and moths. Persius illustrates this : —

" Who would not leave posterity such rhymes, As cedar oil might keep to latest times! "

They stained materials/or writing upon , with purple , and rub- bed them with exudations from the cedar. The laws of the emperors were published on wooden tables , painted with ceruse ; to which custom Horace alludes. Leges incidere ligno. Such tables , the term now softened into tablets , are still used , but in general are made of other materials than wood. The same reason for whieh they preferred the cedar to other wood induced to write on wax , as being incorruptible. Men generally used it lo write their testaments on , the better to preserve them ; thus Juvennl says , Ceras implere.

ORIGIN OF THE MATERIALS OF WRITING. 23

caprices. This thin paste of wax was also used on tablets of wood , that it might more easily admit of erasure , for daily use.

They wrote with an iron bodkin , as they did on the other sub- stances we have noticed. The stylus was made sharp at one end to write with , and blunt and broad at the other , to deface and correct easily 5 hence the phrase vertere stylum, to turn the stylus, was used to express blotting out. But the Romans forbad the use of this sharp instrument, from the circumstance of many persons having used them as daggers. A school-master was killed by the Pugillares or table-books , and the styles of his own scholars. They substituted a stylus made of the bone of a bird , or other animal ; so that their writings resembled engravings. When they wrote on softer mate- rials , they employed reeds and canes split like our pens at the points , which the orientalists still use to lay their colour or ink neater on the paper.

Naude observes , that when he was in Italy, about 1642 , he saw some of those waxen tablets, called Pugillares, so called because they were held in one hand ; and others composed of the barks of trees , which the ancients employed in lieu of paper.

On these tablets, or table-books, Mr. Astle observes, that the Greeks and Romans continued the use of waxen table-books long after the use of the papyrus , leaves , and skins became common 5 because they were convenient for correcting extemporaneous compositions : from these table-books they transcribed their performances correctly into parchment books, if for their own private use •, but if for sale , or for the library, the Librarii , or Scribes , performed the office. The writing on table-books is particularly recommended by Quint!- lian in the third chapter of the tenth book of his Institutions ; because the wax is readily effaced for any corrections : he confesses weak eyes do not see so well on paper, and observes that the frequent ne- cessity of dipping the pen in the inkstand retards the hand , and is but ill-suited to the celerity of the mind. Some of these table-books are conjectured to have been large , and perhaps heavy, for in Plau- lus , a school-boy is represented breaking his master's head with his table-book. The critics , according to Cicero , were accustomed in reading their wax manuscripts to notice obscure or vicious phrases by joining a piece of red wax , as we should underline such bv red ink.

Table-books written upon with styles were not entirely laid aside in Chaucer's time , who describes them in his Sompner's tale : —

" His fellow had a staffe tipp'd witb borne , A paire of tables all of iverie ; And a pointell polished fetouslie , And wrote alvvaics the names , as lie stood , Of all folke, that gave hem any good."

24 ORIGIN OF THE MATERIALS OF WRITING.

By the word pen in the translation of the Bible , we must under- stand an iron style. Table-books of ivory are still used for memo- randa , written with black-lead pencils. The Bomans used ivory to write the edicts of the senate on , with a black colour ; and the expres- sion of libris elephantinis , which some authors imagine alludes to books that for their size were called elephantine , were most probably composed of ivory , the tusk of the elephant : among the Bomans they were undoubtedly scarce.

The pumice stone was a writing-material of the ancients ; they used it to smooth the roughness of the parchment , or to sharpen their reeds.

In the progress of time the art of writing consisted in painting with different kinds of ink. This novel mode of writing occasioned them to invent other materials proper to receive their writing ; the thin bark of certain trees and plants , or linen ; and at length , when this was found apt to become mouldy, they prepared the skins of animals. Those of asses are still in use 5 and on the dried skins of serpents, were once written the Iliad and Odyssey. The iirst place where they began to dress these skins was Pergamus , in Asia ; whence the Latin name is derived ofPergamejiae or parch- ment. These skins are, however, better known amongst the authors of the purest Latin under the name of membrana; so called from the membranes of various animals of which they were composed. The ancients had parchments of three different colours , white . yellow , and purple. At Borne white parchment was disliked, because it was more subject to be soiled than the others , and dazzled the eye. They generally wrote in letters of gold and silver on purple or violet parchment. This custom continued in the early ages of the church 5 and copies of the evangelists of this kind are preserved in the British Museum.

When the Egyptians employed for writing the bark of a plant or reed, called papyrus , or paper-rush, it superseded all former modes, for its convenience. Formerly it grew in great quantities on the sides of the Nile. This plant has given its name to our paper , although the latter is now compose of linen and rags , and formerly had been of cotton-wool , which was but brittle and yellow ; and improved by using cotton rags, which they glazed. After the eighth century the papyrus was superseded by parchment. The Chinese make their paper with silk. The use of paper is of great antiquity. It is what the ancient Latinisls call charta or cliartoe. Before the use of parchment and paper passed to the Bomans, they used the thin peel found between the wood and the bark of trees. This skinny substance they called liber , from whence the Latin word liber , a book, and library and librarian in the European languages, and

OIUGIN OF THE MATERIALS OF WRITING. S.r»

the French Uvre for book ; but we of northern origin derive our 6ooAfrom the Danish bog, the beech-tree, because that being the most plentiful in Denmark was used to engrave on. Anciently, instead of folding this bark, this parchment or paper, as we fold ours , they rolled it according as they wrote on it ; and the Latin name which they gave these rolls has passed into our language as the others. We say a volume , or volumes, although our books are composed of leaves bound together. The books of the ancients on the shelves of their libraries were rolled up on a pin and placed erect , tilled on the outside in red letters , or rubrics , and appeared like a number of small pillars on the shelves.

The ancients were as curious as ourselves in having their books richly conditioned. Propertius describes tablets with gold borders , and Ovid notices their red titles ; but in later times , besides the tint of purple with which they tinged their vellum , and the liquid gold which they employed for their ink, they inlaid their covers with precious stones ; and I have seen , in the library at Triers or Treves, a manuscript, the donation of some princess to a monastery, studded with heads wrought in fine cameos. In the early ages of the church they painted on the outside commonly a dying Christ. In the curious library of Mr. Douce is a Psalter , supposed once to have apper- tained to Charlemagne; the vellum is purple, and the letters gold. The Eastern nations likewise tinged their MSS. with different co- lours and decorations. Astle possessed Arabian MSS. of which some leaves were of a deep yellow , and others of a lilac colour. Sir William Jones describes an oriental MS. in which the name of Mohammed was fancifully adorned with a garland of tulips and carnations , painted in the brightest colours. The favourite works of the Persians are written on fine silky paper , the ground of which is often pow- dered with gold or silver dust ; the leaves are frequently illuminated, and the whole book is sometimes perfumed with essence of roses or sandal wood. The Romans had several sorts of paper to which they had given different names ; one was the Charta Augusta , in com- pliment to the emperor-, another Liviana, named after the empress. There was a Charta blanca, which obtained its title from its beau- tiful whiteness , and which we appear to have retained by applying it to a blank sheet of paper which is only signed , Carte blanche. They had also a Charta Nigra , painted black , and the letters were in white or other colours.

Our present paper surpasses all other materials for ease and con- venience of writing. The first paper-mill in England was erected at Dartford, by a German, in 1588 , who was knighted by Elizabeth ; but it was not before 1713 that one Thomas Walkins , a stationer, brought the art of paper-making to any perfection, and to the in-

2G ORIGIN OF THE MATERIALS OF WRITING.

dustry of this individual wo owe the origin of our numerous paper- mills. France had hitherto supplied England and Holland.

The manufacture of paper was not much encouraged at home , even so late as in 166-2; and the following observations by Fuller are curious, respecting the paper of his limes : — " Paper partici- pates in some sort of the characters of the country which makes it ; the I~ejietia?i,beina neat, subtile, and court-like: the French , tight, slight, and slender: and the Dutch, thick, corpulent, and gross, sucking up the ink with the sponginess thereof." He com- plains that the paper manufactories were not then sufficiently en- couraged, " considering the vast sums of money expended in our land for paper, out of Italy, France, and Germany, which might be lessened were it made in our nation. To such who object that we can never equal the perfection of Venice-paper, I return, neither can \ve match the purity of Venice-glasses : and yet many green ones are blown in Sussex, profitable to the makers, and convenient for the users. Our home shun paper might be found beneficial." The present German printing-paper is made so disagreeable both to printers and readers from their paper manufacturers making many more reams of paper from one cwt. of rags than formerly. Rags are scarce , and German writers , as well as the language , are volu- minous.

Mr. Aslle deeply complains of the inferiority of our inks to those of antiquity; an inferiority productive of the most serious conse- quences, and which appears to originate merely in negligence. From the important benefits arising to society from the use of ink, and the injuries individuals may suffer from the frauds of designing men, he wishes the legislature would frame some new regulations respecting it. The composition of ink is simple, but we possess none equal in beauty and colour to that used by the ancients; the Saxon I\ISS. written in England exceed in colour any thing of the kind. The rolls and records from the fifteenth century to the end of the seventeenth . compared with those of the fifth to the twelfth cen- turies, show the excellence of the earlier ones , which are all in the finest preservation ; while the others are so much defaced, that they are scarcely legible.

The ink of the ancients had nothing in common with ours , but the colour and gum. Gall-nuts, copperas, and gum make up the composition of our ink: whereas soot or ivory-black was the chief ingredient in that of the ancients.

Ink has been made of various colours ; we find gold and silver ink. and red, green, yellow, and blue inks:, but the black is con- sidered as the best adapted lo its purpose.

ANECDOTES OF EUROPEAN MANNERS.

The following circumstances probably gave rise to the tyranny of the feudal power , and are the facts on which the fictions of romance are raised. Castles were erected to repulse the vagrant attacks of the Normans: and in France, from the year 768 to 987 , these places disturbed the public repose. The petty despots who raised these castles pillaged whoever passed, and carried off the females who pleased them. Rapine, of every kind, were the privi- leges of the feudal lords ! Mezeray observes, that it is from these circumstances romancers have invented their talcs offoiigfits errant, monsters , and giants.

De Saint Foix . in his "Historical Essays." informs us that " women and girls were not in greater security when they passed by abbeys. The monks sustained an assault rather than relinquish their prey : if they saw themselves losing ground, they brought to their walls the relics of some saint. Then it generally happened that the assailants, seized with awful veneration, retired, and dared not pursue their vengeance. This is the origin of the enclianters , of the en- chantments, and of the enchanted castles described in romances."

To these may be added what the author of " Northern Anti- quities," Vol. I. p. 243 , writes, that as the walls of the castles ran winding round them , they often called them by a name which signi- fied serpents or dragons ; and in these w ere commonly secured the women and young maids of distinction , who were seldom safe at a time when so many bold warriors were rambling up and down in search of adventures. It was this custom which gave occasion to ancient romancers , w ho knew not how to describe any thing simple, to invent so many fables concerning princesses of great beauty guarded by dragons.

A singular and barbarous custom prevailed during this period 5 it consisted in punishments by mutilations. It became so general that the abbots, instead of bestowing canonical penalties on their monks, obliged them to cut off an ear, an arm, or a leg!

A elly , in his History of France , has described two festivals, which give a just idea of the manners and devotion of a later period, 1230, which like the ancient mysteries consisted of a mixture of farce and piety: religion in fact was their amusement! The following one existed even to the Reformation : —

In the church of Paris , and in several other cathedrals of the kingdom, was held the Feast of Fools or madmen. " The priests and clerks assembled elected a pope, an archbishop, or a bishop . conducted them in great pomp to the church, which fhey entered dancing, masked, and dressed in the apparel of women, animals

M ANECDOTES OF EUROPEAN MANNERS.

and merry-andrews •, sung infamous songs, and converted the altar into a beaufet, where they ale and drank , during the celebration of the holy mysteries; played with dice; burned, instead of incense, the leather of their old sandals; ran about, and leaped from seat to seat, with all the indecent postures with which the merry-andrews know how to amuse the populace."

The other does not yield in extravagance. " This festival was called the Feast of Asses , and was celebrated at Beauvais. They chose a young woman , the handsomest in the town ; they made her ride on an ass richly harnessed , and placed in her arms a pretty infant. In this stale, followed by the bishop and clergy, she marched in procession from the cathedral to the church of St. Stephen's ; entered into the sanctuary; placed herself near the altar, and the mass began ; whatever the choir sung was terminated by this charm- ing burthen , Hihan , hihan ! Their prose , half Latin and half French , explained the fine qualities of the animal. Every strophe finished by this delightful invitation : —

" He, sire Ane, ca cliautez lielle bouche recliignez , Vous aures du Coin assez, Et de l'avoine a plantez."

They at length exhorted him , in making a devout genuflexion , to forget his ancient food , for the purpose of repeating without ceasing, Amen , Amen. The priest, instead of lie missa est, sung three times , Hihan , hihan , hihan ! and the people three times an- swered , Hihan , hihan , hihan ! to imitate the braying of that grave animal.'1

What shall we think of this imbecile mixture of superstition and farce ? This ass was perhaps typical of the ass which Jesus rode ! The children of Israel worshipped a golden ass , and Balaam made another speak. How unfortunate then was James Naylor, who desirous of entering Bristol on an ass , Hume informs us — it is indeed but a piece of cold pleasantry — that all Bristol could not afford him one!

At the time when all these follies were practised , they would not suffer men to play at chess! Velly says, "A statute of Eudes de Sully prohibits clergymen not only from playing at chess , but even from having a chessboard in their house." Who could believe , that while half the ceremonies of religion consisted in the grossest buffoon- ery, a prince preferred death rather than cure himself by a remedy which offended his chastity. Louis VIII. being dangerously ill , the physicians consulted , and agreed to place near the monarch while he slept a young and beautiful lady, who, when he awoke, should

ANECDOTES OF EUROPEAN MANNERS. 29

inform him of the motive which had conducted her to him. Louis answered, "No, my girl, I prefer dying rather than to save my life by a mortal sin ! " And , in fact , the good king died ! He would not be prescribed for , out of the whole Pharmacopoeia of Love !

An account of our taste in female beauty is given by Mr. Ellis, who observes, in his notes to Way's Fabliaux, "In the times of chivalry the minstrels deal with great complacency on the fair hair and delicate complexion of their damsels. This taste was continued for a long time , and to render the hair light was a great object of education. Even when wigs first came into fashion they were all flaxen. Such was the colour of the Gauls and of their German con- querors. It required some centuries to reconcile their eyes to the swarthy beauties of their Spanish and their Italian neighbours/'

The following is an amusing anecdote of the difficulty in which an honest Vicar of Bray found himself in those contentious times.

When the court of Rome, under the pontificates of Gregory IX. and Innocent IV. , set no bounds to their ambitious projects , they were opposed by the Emperor Frederick •, who was of course ana- thematised. A curate of Paris , a humorous fellow, got up in his pulpit with the bull of Innocent in his hand. " You know, my brethren (said he), that I am ordered to proclaim an excommuni- cation against Frederick. I am ignorant of the motive. All that I know is , that there exist between this Prince and the Roman Pontiff great differences, and an irreconcilable hatred. God only knows which of the two is wrong. Therefore with all my power I excom- municate him who injures the other ; and I absolve him who suffers , to the great scandal of all Christianity."

The following anecdotes relate to a period which is sufficiently remote to excite curiosity, yet not so distant as to weaken the inter- est we feel in those minutiae of the limes.

The present one may serve as a curious specimen of the despotism and simplicity of an age not literary, in discovering the author of a libel. It took place in the reign of Henry VIII. A great jealousy subsisted between the Londoners and those Foreigners who traded here. The Foreigners probably (observes Mr. Lodge, in his Illustrations of English History) worked cheaper and were more industrious.

There was a libel affixed on St. Paul's door, which reflected on Henry VIII. and these Foreigners, who were accused of buying up the wool with the king's money, to the undoing of Englishmen. This tended to inflame the minds of the people. The method adopt- ed to discover the writer of the libel must excite a smile in the present day, while it shows the state in which knowledge must have been in this country. The plan adopted was this : In every ward

30 ANECDOTES OF EUROPEAN MANNERS.

one of the king's council, with an alderman of the same, was commanded to see every man write that could , and further look every man's book and sealed them , and brought them to Guildhall Jo confront them with the original. So that if of this number many wrote alike , the judges must have been much puzzled to fix on the criminal.

Our hours of refection are singularly changed in little more than two centuries. In the reign of Francis I. (observes the author of Recreations historiques) they were accustomed to say,

Lever a cinq, diner a neuf , Souper a cinq, coucher a neuf, Fait vivre d'ans uonaute et neuf.

Historians observe of Louis XII. that one of the causes which contributed to hasten his death was the entire change of his regimen. The good king, by the persuasion of his wife , says the history of Bayard , changed his manner of living : when he was accustomed to dine at eight o'clock, he agreed to dine at twelve; and when he was used to retire at six o'clock in the evening, he frequently sat up as late as midnight.

Iloussaie gives the following authentic notice drawn from the registers of the court, which presents a curious account of domestic life in the fifteenth century. Of the dauphin Louis, son of Charles VI., who died at the age of twenty, we are told , ' ' that he knew the Latin and French languages 5 that he had many musicians in his chapel 5 passed the night in vigils ; dined at three in the afternoon , supped at midnight, went to bed at the break of day, and thus was ascertene ( that is threatened ) with a short life." Froissart mentions waiting upon the Duke of Lancaster at five o'clock in the afternoon, when he had supped.

The custom of dining at nine in the morning relaxed greatly under Francis I., his successor. However, persons of quality dined then the latest at ten ; and supper was at five or six in the evening. We may observe this in the preface to the Heptameron of the Queen of Navarre , where this princess, describing the mode of life which the lords and ladies whom she assembles at the castle of Madame Oysille, should follow, to be agreeably occupied and to banish languor, thus espressos herself: "As soon as the morning rose, they went to the chamber of Madame Oysille, whom they found already at her prayers; and when they had. heard during a good hour her lecture, and then the mass, they went to dine at ten o'clock-, and afterwards each privately retired to his room, but did not fail at noon to meet in the meadow." Speaking of (lie end of this first day which was in September) the same lady Oysille says ,

ANECDOTES OF EUROPEAN MANNERS. 3i

" Say where is Ihe sun? and hear the boll of the Abbey, which has for some lime called us to vespers 5 in saying this they all rose and wenl to the religionists , who had waited for them above an hour. Vespers heard , they went to supper, and after having played a thousand sports in the meadow, they retired to bed." All this exactly corresponds with the lines above quoted. Charles V. of France, however, who lived near two centuries before Francis, dined at ten , supped at seven , and all the court was in bed by nine o'clock. They sounded the curfew, which bell warned them to cover their fire, at six in the winter, and between eight and nine in the summer. Under the reign of Henry IV. the hour of dinner at court was eleven , or at noon the latest ; a custom which prevailed even in the early part of the reign of Louis XIV. In the provinces distant from Paris, it is very common to dine at nine ; they make a second repast about two o'clock , and sup at five ; and their last meal is made just before they retire to bed. The labourers and peasants in France have preserved this custom , and make three meals ; one at nine, another. at three , and the last at the setting of the sun.

The Marquis of Mirabeau, in " L'Ami des Homines," Vol. I. p. 261, gives a striking representation of the singular industry of the French citizens of that age. He had learnt from several ancient citizens of Paris , that if in their youth a workman did not work two hours by candle-light, either in the morning or evening, he even adds in the longest days, he would have been noted as an idler, and would not have found persons to employ him. On the 12th of May, 1588, when Henry III. ordered his troops to occupy various posts at Paris , Davila writes , that the inhabitants , warned by the noise of the drums , began to shut their doors and shops , which , according to the custom of that town to work before day- break, were already opened. This must have been, taking it at the latest, about four in the morning. "In 1750," adds the ingenious writer, " I walked on that day through Paris at full six in the morning ; I passed through the most busy and populous part of the city, and I only saw open some stalls of the venders of brandy !"

To the article, "Anecdotes of Fashions," in our first volume, we may add, that in England a taste for splendid dress existed in the reign of Henry VII. 5 as is observable by the following descrip- tion of Nicholas Lord Vaux. " In the 17th of that reign, at the marriage of Prince Arthur, the brave young Vaux appeared in a gown of purple velvet , adorned with pieces of gold so thick and massive, that exclusive of the silk and furs, it was valued at a thousand pounds. About his neck he wore a collar, of S. S. weigh- ing eight hundred pounds in nobles. In those days it not only re- quired great bodily strength to support Ihe weigh! of (heir cumber-

32 ANECDOTES OF EUROPEAN MANNERS.

some armour 5 their very luxury of apparel for the drawing-room would oppress a system of modern muscles. "

In the follow ing reign , according to the monarch's and Wolsey's magnificent taste , their dress was , perhaps , more generally sump- tuous. We then find the following rich ornaments in vogue. Shirts and shifts were embroidered with gold, and bordered with lace. Strutl notices also perfumed gloves lined with white velvet , and splendidly worked with embroidery and gold buttons. Not only gloves , but various other parts of their habits , were perfumed ; shoes were made of Spanish perfumed skins.

Carriages were not then used 5 so that lords would carry princesses on a pillion behind them, and in wet weather the ladies covered their heads w ith hoods of oil-cloth : a custom that has been generally con- tinued to the middle of the seventeenth century. Coaches w ere intro- duced into England by Fitzalan Earl of Arundel, in 1580, and at first were only drawn by a pair of horses. The favourite Buckingham , about 1619 , began to have them drawn by six horses ; and Wilson , in his life of James I., tells us this "was wondered at as a novelty, and imputed to him as a mastering pride." The same ai ^biter ele- gantiarum introduced sedan chairs. In France , Catherine of Medi- cis was the first who used a coach, which had leather doors and cur- tains, instead of glass windows. If the carriage of Henry IV. had had glass windows, this circumstance might have saved his life. Carriages were so rare in the reign of this monarch, that in a letter to his mi- nister Sully, he notices that having taken medicine that day, though he had intended to have called on him , he was prevented , because the queen had gone out with the carriage. Even as late as in the reign of Louis XIV. the courtiers rode on horseback to their dinner par- ties, and wore their light boots and spurs. Count Hamilton describes his boots of white Spanish leather, with gold spurs.

Saint Foix observes, that in 1658 there were only 310 coaches in Paris , and in 1758 there were more than 14,000.

Strutt has judiciously observed , that though " luxury and gran- deur were so much affected, and appearances of state and splendour carried to such lengths , we may conclude that their household furni- ture and domestic necessaries were also carefully attended to : on passing through their houses , we may expect to be surprised at the neatness , elegance , and superb appearance of each room , and the suitableness of every ornament; but herein we may be deceived. The taste of elegance amongst our ancestors was very different from the present, and however we may find them extravagant in their ap- parel , excessive in their banquets , and expensive in their trains of attendants; yet, follow them home, and within their houses you shall

ANECDOTES OF EUROPEAN MANNERS. 33

find their furniture is plain and homely ; no great choice , but what was useful, rather than any for ornament or show."

Erasmus , as quoted by Jorlin , confirms this account , and makes it worse ; he gives a curious account of English dirtiness ; he ascribes the plague from which England was hardly ever free , and the sweat- ing-sickness , partly to the incommodious form , and bad exposition of the houses, to the filtbinessof the streets, and to fheslullishness withindoors. The floors, says he, are commonly of clay, strewed with rushes ; under which lies , unmolested , an ancient collection of beer, grease , fragments , bones , spittle , excrements of dogs and cats, and every thing that is nasty. And now, certainly, we are the cleanest nation in Europe , and the word comfortable expresses so peculiar an idea , that it has been adopted by foreigners to describe a sensation experienced no where but in England.

I shall give a sketch of the domestic life of a nobleman in the reign of Charles the First , from the " Life of the Duke of Newcastle ," written by his Duchess, whom I have already noticed. It might have been impertinent at the lime of its publication ; it will now please those who are curious about English manners.

" Of his Habit.

" He accoutres his person according to the fashion , if it be one that is not troublesome and uneasy for men of heroic exercises and actions. He is neat and cleanly ; which makes him to be somewhat long in dressing , though not so long as many effeminate persons are. He shifts ordinarily once a day, and every time when he uses exercise , or his temper is more hot than ordinary.

" Of his Diet.

" In his diet he is so sparing and temperate , that he never eats nor drinks beyond his set proportion , so as to satisfy only his na- tural appetite 5 he makes but one meal a day, at which he drinks two good glasses of small beer, one about the beginning , the other at the end thereof, and a little glass of sack in the middle of his dinner; which glass of sack he also uses in the morning for his breakfast , with a morsel of bread. His supper consists of an egg and a draught of small beer. And by this temperance he finds himself very healthful, and may yet live many years , he being now of the age of seventy- three.

" His Recreation and Exercise.

" His prime pastime and recreation hath always been the exercise ofmannage and weapons, which heroic arts he used to practise every day ; but I observing that when he had overheated himself he

34 ANECDOTES OF EUROPEAN MANNERS.

would be apt to take cold , prevailed so far, that at last he left the frequent use of the mannage , using nevertheless still the exercise of weapons ; and though he dolh not ride himself so frequently as he hath done , yet he taketh delight in seeing his horses of mannage rid by his escuyers , whom he instructs in that art for his own plea- sure. But in the art of weapons (in which he has a method beyond all that ever was famous in it , found out by his own ingenuity and practice) he never taught any body but the now Duke of Bucking- ham , whose guardian he hath been , and his own two sons. The rest of his time he spends in music, poetry, architecture, and the like."

The value of money, and the increase of our opulence , might form, says Johnson , a curious subject of research. In the reign of Edward the Sixth , Latimer mentions it as a proof of his father's prosperity, that though but a yeoman , he gave his daughters five pounds each for their portion. At the latter end of Elizabeth's reign , seven hundred pounds were such a temptation to courtship, as made all other motives suspected. Congreve makes twelve thousand pounds more than a counterbalance to the affectation of Belinda. No poet will now fly his favourite character at less than fifty thousand. Cla- rissa Harlowe had but a moderate fortune.

In Sir John Vanbrugh's Confederacy, a woman of fashion is pre- sented with a bill of millinery as long as herself. — Yet it only amounts to a poor fifty pounds! at present this sounds oddly on the stage. I have heard of a lady of quality and fashion, who had a bill of her fancy-dress maker, for the expenditure of one year, to the tune of, or rather, which closed in the deep diapason of, six thou- sand pounds !

THE EARLY DRAMA.

It is curious to trace the first rude attempts of the drama , in various nations 5 to observe at that moment , how crude is the ima- gination , and to trace the caprices it indulges •, and that the resem- blance in these attempts holds in the earliest essays of Greece , of France , of Spain , of England , and , what appears extraordinary, even of China and Mexico.

The rude beginnings of the drama of Greece are sufficiently known , and the old mysteries of Europe have been exhibited in a former volume. The progress of the French theatre has been this : —

Etienne Jodelle, in 1552 , seems to have been the first who had a tragedy represented of his own invention , entitled Cleopatra — it was a servile imitation of the form of the Grecian tragedy ; but if this did not require the highest genius , it did the utmost intrepi-

THE EARLY DRAMA. 35

dily ; for the people were , through long habit , intoxicated with the wild amusement they amply received from their farces and mo- ralities.

The following curious anecdote , which followed the first attempt at classical imitation , is very observable. Jodelle's success was such , that his rival poets , touched by the spirit of the Grecian muse , showed a singular proof of their enthusiasm for this new poet , in a classical festivity which gave room for no little scandal in that day ■ yet as it was produced by a carnival , it was probably a kind of drunken bout. Fifty poets, during the carnival of 1552, went to Arcueil. Chance , says the writer of the life of the old French bard Ronsard, who was one of the present profane party, threw across their road a goat — which having caught , they ornamented the goat with chaplets of flowers , and carried it triumphantly to (he hall of their festival , to appear to sacrifice to Bacchus, and to present it to Jo- delle •, for the goat , among the ancients , was the prize of the tragic bards ; the victim of Bacchus , who presided over tragedy.

Carmine , qui tragico , vilem certavit ob hircum.

The goat thus adorned , and his beard painted , was hunted about the long table , at which the fifty poets were seated •, and after having served them for a subject of laughter for some time , he was hunted out of the room , and not sacrificed to Bacchus. Each of the guests made verses on the occasion , in imitation of the Bacchanalia of the ancients. Ronsard composed some dithyrambics to celebrate the fes- tival of the goat of Etienne Jodelle ; and another, entitled "Our travels to Arcueil." However, this Bacchanalian freak did not finish as it ought, where it had begun, among the poets. Several eccle- siastics sounded the alarm , and one Chandieu accused Ronsard with having performed an idolatrous sacrifice ; and it was easy to accuse the moral habits of fifty poets assembled together, who were far, doubtless , from being irreproachable. They repented for some lime of their classical sacrifice of a goat to Tragedy.

Hardi, the French Lope de Vega, wrote 800 dramatic pieces from 1600 to 1637 ; his imagination was the most fertile possible ; but so wild and unchecked , that though its extravagances are very amus- ing , they served as so many instructive lessons to his sucessors. One may form a notion of his violation of the unities by his piece, " La Force du sang." In the first act Leocadia is carried off and ravished. In the second she is sent back with an evident sign of pregnancy. In the third she lies in , and at the close of this act, her son is about ten years old. In the fourth, the father of the child acknowledges him ; and in the fifth , lamenting his son's unhappy fafe , he marries Leo- cadia. Such are the pieces in the infancy of the drama.

36 THE EARLY DRAMA.

Rotrou was the first who ventured to introduce several persons in the same scene ; Before his lime they rarely exceeded two persons ; if a third appeared, he was usually a mute actor, who never joined the other two. The state of the theatre was even then very rude ; free- doms of the most lascivious embraces were publicly given and taken 5 and Rotrou even ventured to introduce a naked page in the scene , who in this situation holds a dialogue with one of his heroines. In another piece , " Scedase , ou Thospitalite violee /' Hardi makes two young Spartans carry otf Scedase's two daughters , ravish them on the theatre , and , violating them in the side scenes , the spectators heard their cries and their complaints. Cardinal Richelieu made the theatre one of his favourite pursuits , and though not successful as a dramatic writer, he gave that encouragement to the drama , which gradually gave birth to genius. Scudery was the first who introduced ihe twenty-four hours from Aristotle 5 and Mairet studied the con- struction of the fable , and the rules of the drama. They yet groped in the dark , aud their beauties were yet only occasional ; Corneille , Racine , Moliere , Crebillon , and Voltaire , perfected the French drama.

In the infancy of the tragic art in our country, the bowl and dag- ger were considered as the great instruments of a sublime pathos \ and the " Die all" and " Die nobly" of the exquisite and affecting tragedy of Fielding were frequently realised in our popular dramas. Thomas Goff , of the university of Oxford , in the reign of James I. was considered as no contemptible tragic poet : he concludes the first part of his courageous Turk , by promising a second , thus :

If this first part, gentles! do like you well, The second part shall greater nurthers tell.

Specimens of extravagant bombast might be selected from his tragedies. The following speech of Amurath the Turk, who coming on the stage, and seeing "an appearance of the heavens being on fire, comets and blazing stars, thus addresses the heavens," which seem to have been in as mad a condition as the poet's own mind.

How now ye heavens! grow you

So proud, that you must needs pat on curled locks , And clothe yourselves in periwigs of fire!

In the raging Turk , or Bajazet the Second , he is introduced with this most raging speech . —

Am I not emperor? he that breathes a no

Damns in that negative syllable his soul;

Durst any god gainsay it , he should feel The strength of fiercest giants in my armies; Mine anger's at the highest, and I could shake

THE EARLY DRAMA. 37

The hrin foundation of the earthly globe : Could I but grasp the poles in these two liauiU I'd pluck the world asunder. He would scale heaven , and when he had

got beyond the utmost sphere,

Besiege the concave of this universe ,

And hunger-starve the gods till they confessed

What furies did oppress his sleeping soul.

These plays went through two editions ; the last printed in 1056. The following passage from a similar hard is as precious. Tin4 king in the play exclaims ,

By all the ancient gods of Rome and Greece ,

I love my daughter! better thau my niece!

If any one should ask the reason why ,

I'd tell them Nature makes the stronger tie !

One of the rude French plays, about 1600 , is entitled uLa Re- bellion, ou mescontentement des Grenouilles contre Jupiter," in five acts. The subject of this tragicomic piece is nothing more than the fable of the frogs who asked Jupiter for a king. In the pantomimical scenes of a wild fancy, the actors were seen croaking in their fens, or climbing up the steep ascent of Olympus; they were dressed so as to appear gigantic frogs; and in pleading their cause before Jupiter and his court, the dull humour was to croak sublime- ly, whenever they did not agree with their judge.

Clavigero , in his curious history of Mexico , has given Acosta's account of the Mexican theatre , which appears to resemble the first scenes among the Greeks, and these French frogs, but with more fancy and taste. Acosta writes, "The small theatre was curiously whitened , adorned with boughs , and arches made of flowers and feathers, from which were suspended many birds, rabbits, and other pleasing objects. The actors exhibited burlesque characters , feigning themselves deaf, sick with colds, lame, blind, crippled, and addressing an idol for the return of health. The deaf people answered at cross purposes; those who had colds by coughing , and the lame by halting ; all recited their complaints and misfortunes , which produced infinite mirth among the audience. Others appeared under the names of different little animals ; some disguised as beetles , some like toads, some like lizards, and upon encountering each other, reciprocally explained their employments, which was highly satisfactory to the people, as they performed their parts with infi- nite ingenuity. Several little boys also belonging to the temple , appeared in the disguise of butterflies , and birds of various colours, and mounting upon the trees which were fixed there on purpose, little balls of earth were thrown at them with slings , occasioning many humorous incidents to the spectators."

■38 THE EARLY DRAMA.

Something very wild and original appears in this singular exhi- bition; where at times the actors seem to have been spectators, and the spectators were actors.

THE MARRIAGE OF THE ARTS.

As a literary curiosity can we deny a niche to that "obliquity of distorted wit," of Barton Holyday, who has composed a strange comedie, in five acts, performed at Christ Church, Oxford, 1630, not for the entertainment, as an anecdote records, of James the First?

The title of the comedy of this unclassical classic , for Holyday is known as the translator of Juvenal with a very learned commentary, is Texnotamia, or the Marriage of the Arts, 1639, quarto, extreme- ly dull, excessively rare, and extraordinarily high-priced among collectors.

It may be exhibited as one of the most extravagant inventions of a pedant. Who but a pedant could have conceived the dull fancy of forming a comedy, of five acts , on the subject of marrying the Arts! They are the dramatis personam of this piece, and the bachelor of arts describes their intrigues and characters. His actors are Poli- tes, a magistrate-, — Physica ;— Astronomia , daughter to Physica; — Ethicus, an old man ; — Geographus, a traveller and courtier, in love with Astronomia; — Arithmetica, in love with Geometry; — Logicus; — Grammaticus, a schoolmaster-, — Poeta; — Historian in love with Poeta-, — Rhetorica, in love with Logicus ; — Melancho- lico , Poeta's man ; — Phantastes , servant to Geographus • — Choler, Grammaticus's man.

All these refined and abstract ladies and gentlemen have as bodily feelings , and employ as gross language, as if they had been every- day characters. A specimen of his grotesque dullness may en- tertain : —

" Fruits of dull heat, and sooterkins of wit."

Geographus opens the play with declaring his passion to Astro- nomia , and that very rudely indeed ! See the pedant wreathing the roses of Love !

uGeog. Come, now you shall, Astronomia.

Ast. What shall I , Geographus ?

Geog. Kisse!

Ast. What in spite of my teeth!

Geog. No , not so ! I hope you do not use to kisse with your teeth.

Ast. Marry, and I hope I do not use to kisse without them.

THE MARRIAGE OF THE ARTS. 39

Geog. Ay, but my fine wit-catcher, I mean you do not show your teeth when you kisse."

He then kisses her, as he says \ in the different manners of a French , Spanish, and Dutch kiss. He wants to take off the zone of Astronomia. She begs he would not fondle her like an elephant as he is; and Geographus says again, "Wont you then?

Ast. Won't I what?

Geog. I3e kinde?

Ast. Be kinde! how?"

Fortunately Geographus is here Interrupted by Astronomia s mother Physica. This dialogue is a specimen of the whole piece : very flat , and very gross. Yet the piece is still curious , — not only for its absurdity, but for that sort of ingenuity, which so whimsi- cally contrived to bring together the different arts ; this pedantic writer, however, owes more to the subject, than the subject derived from him ; without wit or humour, he has at times an extravagance of invention. As for instance, — Geographus, and his man Phan- tasies, describe to Poela the lying wonders they pretend to have witnessed ; and this is one : —

" Phan. Sir, we met with a traveller that could speak six lan- guages at the same instant.

Poeta. How? at the same instant, that's impossible!

Phan. Nay, sir, the actuality of the performance puts iy>eyond all contradiction. With his tongue he'd so vowel you out as smooth Italian as any man breathing; with his eye he would sparkle forth the proud Spanish; with his nose blow out most robustious Dutch; the creaking of his high-heeled shoe would articulate exact Polo- nian; the knocking of his shin-bone feminine French ,-and his belly would grumble most pure and scholar-like Hungary.''''

This, though extravagant without fancy, is not the worst part of the absurd humour which runs through this pedantic comedy.

The classical reader may perhaps be amused by the following slrange conceits. Poeta , who was in love with Historia , capri- ciously falls in love with Astronomia , and thus compares his mis- tress : —

Her brow is like a brave heroic line

That does a sacred inajestie inshrine ;

Her nose , Pkaleuciahe-\i]i.e , in comely sort,

Ends in a Trochie , or a long and short.

Her mouth is like a pretty Dimeter ;

Her eie- brows like a little-longer Trimeter.

Her chinne is an adonicke , and her tongue

Is an ffypermeter, somewhat too long.

Her eies I may compare them nnto two

Quick-turning dactyles , for their nimble view.

40 THE MARRIAGE OF THE ARTS-

Her ribs like statics of Sapphicks doe desceud Thither, which but to name were to offend. Her arms like two Iambics raised on hie, Doe with her brow bear equal majestie ; Her legs like two straight spondees keep apace Slow as two scazons , but with stately grace.

The piece concludes with a speech by Polites , who settles all the disputes and loves of the Arts. Poeta promises for the future to at- tach himself to Historia. Rhetorica , though she loves Logicus , yet as they do not mutually agree, she is united to Gramrnaticus. Po- lites counsels Phlegmatico , who is Logicus's man , to leave off smoking , and to learn better manners ; and Choler, Grammalicuss man , to bridle himself 5 — that Ethicus and OEconoma would vouch- safe to give good advice to Poeta and Historia ; — and Physica to her children Geographus and Astronomia ! for Gramrnaticus and Rhe- toric , he says , their tongues will always agree , and will not fall out 5 and for Geometry and Arithmetica , they will be very regular. Melancholico , who is Poeta's man , is left quite alone , and agrees to be married to Musica : and at length Phantastes , by the entreaty of Poeta , becomes the servant of Melancholico and Musica. Physi- cognomus and Cheiromantes , who are in the character of gypsies and fortune-tellers , are finally exiled from the island of Fortunata , where lies the whole scene of the action in the residence of the mar- ried arts.

The pedant-comic-writer has even attended to the dresses of his characters , which are minutely given. Thus Melancholico wears a black suit , a black hat , a black cloak , and black worked band, black gloves , and black shoes. Sanguis , the servant of Medicus , is in a red suit ; on the breast is a man with his nose bleeding ; on the back, one letting blood in his arm j with a red hat and band, red stockings, and red pumps.

It is recorded of this play, that the Oxford scholars , resolving to give James I. a relish of their genius, requested leave to act this no- table piece. Honest Anthony Wood tells us, that it being too grave for the king , and loo scholastic for the auditory, or, as some have said, the actors had taken loo much wine , his majesty offered several times , after two acts, to withdraw. He was prevailed to sit it out, in mere charity to the Oxford scholars. The following humorous epi- gram was produced on the occasion : —

At Christ-church marriage , done before the king, Least that those mates shoidd want an offering , The kiug himself did offer;— What, I pray? He offered twice or thrice — to go away !

A CONTRIVANCE IN DRAMATIC DIALOGUE.

Crown , in his " City Politiques ," 1688 , a comedy written to satirise the Whigs of those days , was accused of having copied his character too closely after life , and his enemies turned his comedy into a libel. He has defended himself in his preface from this impu- tation. It was particularly laid to his charge , that in the characters of Bartoline, an old corrupt lawyer, and his wife Lucinda , a wanton

country girl, he intended to ridicule a certain serjeant M and

his young wife. It was even said that the comedian mimicked the odd speech of the aforesaid serjeant, who, having lost all his teeth , uttered his words in a very peculiar manner. On this, Crown tells us in his defence , that the comedian must not be blamed for this pe- culiarity, as it was an invention of the author himself, who had taught it to the player. He seems to have considered it as no ordinary invention, and was so pleased with it that he has most painfully print- ed the speeches of the lawyer in this singular gibberish , and his reasons , as well as his discovery, appear remarkable.

He says, that " Not any one old man more than another is mimick- ed , by Mr. Lee's way of speaking , which all comedians can wit- ness was my own invention, and Mr. Lee was taught it by me. To prove this farther, I have printed Bartoline's part in that manner of spelling by which I taught it Mr. Lee. They who have not teeth can- not pronounce many letters plain, but perpetually lisp and break their words, and some words they cannot bring out at all. As for in- stance tli is pronounced by thrusting the tongue hard to the teeth , therefore that sound they cannot make , but something like it. For that reason you will often find in Bartoline's part , instead o{th,ya, as y at for that ; yish for this ; y osh for those ; sometimes a t is left out , as housand for thousand ; hirty for thirty. S they pronounce like sh, as sher for sir ; musht for must : t they speak like ch , — therefore you will find chrue for true \, chreason for treason ; cho for to ; choo for two ; chen for ten ; chake for take. And this ch is not to be pronounced like k , as 'tis in christian , but as in child , church , chest. I desire the reader to observe these things , because otherwise he will hardly understand much of the lawyer's part, which in the opinion of all is the most divertising in the comedy •, but when this ridiculous way of speaking is familiar with him , it will render the part more pleasant."

One hardly expects so curious a piece of orthoepy in the preface to a comedy. It may have required great observation and ingenuity to have discovered the cause of old toothless men mumbling their words. But as a piece of comic humour, on which the author appears to have prided himself, the effect is far from fortunate. Humour aris-

42 A CONTRIVANCE IN DRAMATIC DIALOGUE.

ing from a personal defect is but a miserable substitute for that of a more genuine kind. I shall give a specimen of this strange gibberish as it is so laboriously printed. It may amuse the reader to see his mother's language transformed into so odd a shape that it is with dif- ficulty he can recognise it.

Old Bartholine thus speaks : — ' ' I wrong'd my shelf., cho entcher inc/io bondsh of marriage and could not perform covenantsh I might well /litike you would chake the forfeiture of the bond ; and I never found equichy in a bedg in my life; but I'll trounce you boh ; I have paved jaylsh wi' the bonesh of honestcr people yen you are , yat never did me nor any man any wrong , but had law o' yeir shy dsh and right o' yeir shydsli , but because yey had not me o' yeir shydsh , I ha' "hrown 'em in jaylish , and got yeir eshchatsh for my clyentsh , yat had no more chytle to 'em yen dogsh."

THE COMEDY OF A MADMAN!

Desmarets , the friend of Richelieu , was a very extraordinary character, and produced many effusions of genius in early life , till he became a mystical fanatic. It was said of him that " he was the greatest madman among poets , and the best poet among madmen." His comedy of " The Visionaries" is one of the most extraordinary dramatic projects, and, in respect to its genius and its lunacy, may be considered as a literary curiosity.

In this singular comedy all Bedlam seems to be let loose on the stage, and every character has a high claim to an apartment in it. It is indeed suspected that the cardinal had a hand in this anomalous drama , and in spite of its extravagance it was favourably received by the public , who certainly had never seen anything like it.

Every character in this piece acts under some hallucination of the mind, or a fit of madness. Artabaze is a cowardly hero , who believes he has conquered the world. Amidor is a wild poet, who imagines he ranks above Homer. Filidan is a lover , who becomes inflam- mable as gunpowder for every mistress he reads of in romances. Phalante is a beggarly bankrupt , who thinks himself as rich as Crcesus. Melisse, in reading the " History of Alexander," has be- come madly in love with this hero , and will have no other husband than " him of Macedon." Hesperie imagines her fatal charms occa- sion a hundred disappointments in the world , but prides herself on her perfect insensibility. Sestianc, who knows no other happiness than comedies , and whatever she sees or hears , immediately plans a scene for dramatic effect , renounces any other occupation ; and finally, Alcidon, the father of these three mad girls, as imbecile as his daughters are wild. So much for the amiable characters!

THE COMEDY OE A MADMAN. 43

The plot is in perfect harmony with the genius of the author, and the characters he has invented — perfectly unconnected , and fanci- fully wild. Alcidon resolves to marry his three daughters , who , however, have no such project of their own. He offers them to the first who comes. He accepts for his son-in-law the first who offers, and is clearly convinced that he is within a very short period of ac- complishing his wishes. As the four ridiculous personages whom we have noticed frequently haunt his house , he becomes embarrassed in finding one lover too many, having only three daughters.

The catastrophe relieves the old gentleman from his embarrass- ments. Melisse , faithful to her Macedonian hero declares her reso- lution of dying before she marries any meaner personage. Hesperic refuses to marry out of pity for mankind 5 for to make one man happy she thinks she must plunge a hundred into despair. Sestiane , only passionate for comedy, cannot consent to any marriage , and tells her father, in very lively verses ,

Je ne veux point, mon pere, espouser uu censeur; Puisque vous me souffres recevoir la douceur Des plaisirs inuoceus que le theatre apporte, Preudrois-je le hasard de vivre d'autre sorte ? Puis on a des enfans, qui vous sont sur les bras, Les meuer au theatre , 6 Dieux ! quel embarras ! Tantot couche 011 grossesse , ou quelque maladie; Pour jamais vous font dire, adieu la coinedie !

IMITATED.

Wo , no , my father, I will have no critic ,

( Miscalled a husband ) since you still permit

The innocent sweet pleasures of the Stage ;

And shall I venture to exchange my lot ?

Then we have children folded in our arms

To bring them to the play-house ; heavens! what troubles!

Then we lie in , are big , or sick , or vex'd :

These make us bid farewell to comedy !

At length these imagined sons-in-law appear : Filidan declares that in these three girls he cannot find the mistress he adores. Amidor confesses he only asked for one of his daughters out of pure gallan- try , and that he is only a lover — in verse ! When Phalante is ques- tioned after the great fortunes he hinted at , the father discovers that he has not a stiver , and out of credit to borrow : while Artabazc declares that he only allowed Alcidon , out of mere benevolence , to flatter himself for a moment with the hope of an honour that even Jupiter would not dare to pretend to. The four lovers disperse, and leave the old gentleman more embarrassed than ever, and his daughters perfectly enchanted to enjoy their whimsical reveries , and die old maids — all alike "Visionaries !"

SOLITUDE.

We possess, among our own native treasures, two treatises orr this subject, composed with no ordinary talent, and not their least value consists in one being an apology for solitude, while the other combats that prevailing passion of the studious. Zimmerman's po- pular work is overloaded with common-place ; the garrulity of elo- quence. The two treatises now noticed may be compared to the highly-finished gems , whose figure may be more finely designed , and whose strokes may be more delicate in the smaller space they occupy than the ponderous block of marble hewed out by the Ger- man chiseler.

Sir George Mackenzie, a polite writer, and a most eloquent pleader, published, in 1665, a moral essay, preferring Solitude to public employment. The eloquence of his style was well suited to the dignity of his subject ; the advocates for solitude have always prevailed over those for active life, because there is something sub- lime in those feelings which would retire from the circle of indolent triflers , or depraved geniuses. The tract of Mackenzie was inge- niously answered by the elegant taste of John Evelyn in 1667. Mackenzie , though he wrote in favour of solitude , passed a very active life, first as a pleader, and afterwards as a judge 5 that he was an eloquent writer, and an excellent critic, we have the authority of Drydcn , who says , that till he was acquainted with that noble wit of Scotland , Sir George Mackenzie, he had not known the beautiful turn of words and thoughts in poetry, which Sir George had ex- plained and exemplified to him in conversation. As a judge , and king's advocate, will not the barbarous customs of the age defend his name? He is most hideously painted forth by the dark pencil of a poetical Spagnoletti (Grahame), in his poem on " The Birds of Scotland." Sir George lived in the age of rebellion, and used tor- ture : we must entirely put aside his political , to attend to his literary character. Blair has quoted his pleadings as a model of eloquence , and Grahame is unjust to the fame of Mackenzie, when he alludes to his " half-forgotten name." In 1689, he retired to Oxford, to indulge the luxuries of study in the Bodleian Library, and to practise that solitude which so delighted him in theory 5 but three years afterwards he fixed himself in London. Evelyn , who wrote in favour of public employment being preferable to solitude , passed his days in the tranquillity of his studies , and wrote against the habits which he himself most loved. By this it may appear, that that of which we have the least experience ourselves , will ever be what appears most delightful! Alas! every thing in life seems to have in it the nature of a bubble of air, and, when touched, we find nothing but emp-

SOLITUDE. 45

liness in our hand. It is certain that the most eloquent writers in favour of solitude have left behind them too many memorials of their unhappy feelings , when they indulged this passion to excess ; and some ancient has justiy said, that none hut a God, or a savage, can suffer this exile from human nature.

The following extracts from Sir George Mackenzie's tract on Solitude are eloquent and impressive , and merit to be rescued from that oblivion which surrounds many writers, whose genius has not been effaced , but concealed by the transient crowd of their pos- terity : —

" I have admired to see persons of virtue and humour long much to he iti the city, where , when they come they found nor sought for no other diver- tisement than to visit one another; and there to do nothing else than to make legs, view others habit, talk of the weather, or some such pitiful subject, and it may be, if they made a farther inroad upon any other affair, they did so pick one another, that it afforded them matter of eternal quarrel ; for what was at first but an indifferent subject , is by interest adopted into the number of our quarrels. — What pleasure can be received by talking of new fashions, buying and selling of lands , advancement or ruin of favourites , victories or defeats of strange princes , which is the ordinary subject of ordinary conver- sation?— Most desire to frequent their superiors, and these men must either suffer their raillery , or must not be suffered to continue in their society ; if we converse with them who speak Avith more address than ourselves, then we repine equally at our own dulness , and envy the acuteness that accomplishes the speaker ; or, if we converse with duller animals than ourselves , then we are weary to draw the yoke alone, and fret at our being in ill company ; but if chance blows us in amongst our equals, then we are so at guard to catch all advantages , and so interested in point d'honneur, that it rather cruciates than recreates us. How many make themselves cheap by these occasions, whom we had valued highly if they had frequented us less ! And how many frequent persons who laugh at that simplicity which the addresser admires in himself as wit, and yet both recreate themselves with double laughters!"

In solitude , he addresses his friend :— " My dear Celador, enter into your own breast, and there survey the several operations of your own soul, the progress of your passions , the strugglings of your appetite , the wanderings of your fancy, and ye will find , I assure you , more variety in that one piece than there is to be learned in all the courts of Christendom. Represent to yourself the last age , all the actions and interest in it , how much this person was infatuated with zeal , that person with lust ; how much one pursued honour, and another riches ; and in the next thought draw that scene, and represent them all turned to dust and ashes! "

I cannot close this subject without the addition of some anec- dotes, which may be useful. A man of letters finds solitude necessary, and for him solitude has its pleasures and its conveniences; but we shall find that it also has a hundred things to be dreaded.

Solitude is indispensable for literary pursuits. No considerable work has yet been composed , but its author , like an ancient magi- cian, retired first to the grove or the closet, to invocatc his spirits.

16 SOLITUDE.

Every production of genius must be the production of enthusiasm. When the youth sighs and languishes, and feels himself among crowds in an irksome solitude , — that is the moment to fly into se- clusion and meditation. Where can he indulge but in solitude the tine romances of his soul? where but in solitude can he occupy himfelf in useful dreams by night , and , when the morning rises , fly without interruption to his unfinished labours ? Retirement to the frivolous is a vast desert, to the man of genius it is the enchanted garden of Armida.

Cicero was uneasy amidst applauding Rome , and he has desig- nated his numerous works by the titles of his various villas , where they were composed. Voltaire had talents , and a taste for society , yet he not only withdrew by intervals, but at one period of his life passed five years in the most secret seclusion and fervent studies. Montesquieu quitted the brilliant circles of Paris for his books , his meditations , and for his immortal work , and was ridiculed by the gay triflers he relinquished. Harrington, to compose his Oceana , severed himself from the society of his friends , and was so wrapped in abstraction, that he was pitied as a lunatic. Descartes, inflamed by genius , abruptly breaks all his friendly connexions , hires an obscure house in an unfrequented corner at Paris, and applies himself to study during two years unknown to his acquaintance. Adam Smith , after the publication of his first work , throws himself into a retirement that lasted ten years ; even Hume rallied him for separating himself from the world 5 but the great political inquirer satisfied the world , and his friends , by his great work on the Wealth of Nations.

But this solitude, at first a necessity, and then a pleasure, at length is not borne without repining. I will call for a witness a great genius, and he shall speak himself. Gibbon says, " I feel, and shall continue to feel , that domestic solitude , however it may be alleviated by the world , by study , and even by friendship , is a comfortless state , which will grow more painful as I descend in the vale of years." And afterwards he writes to a friend, " Your visit has only served to remind me that man , however amused and oc- cupied in his closet, was not made to live alone."

I must therfore now sketch a different picture of literary solitude than some sanguine and youthful minds conceive.

Even the sublimest of men , Milton , who is not apt to vent com- plaints , appears to have felt this irksome period of life. In the pre- face to Smectymus, he says, " It is but justice, not to defraud of due esteem the wearisome labours and studious watchings , wherein I have spent and tired out almost a whole youth. "

Solitude in a later period of life . or rather the neglect which

SOLITUDE. 47

awaits the solitary man, is felt with acufer sensibility. Cowley, that enthusiast for rural seclusion, in his retirement calls himself" The melancholy Cowley." Mason has truly transferred the same epithet to Gray. Read in his letters the history of solitude. We lament the loss of Cowley's correspondence through the mistaken notion of Sprat; he assuredly had painted the sorrows of his heart. But Shenslone has filled his pages with the cries of an amiable being whose soul bleeds in the dead oblivion of solitude. Listen to his melancholy expressions : " Now I am come from a visit, every little uneasiness is sufficient to introduce my whole train of melancholy considerations, and to make me utterly dissatisfied with the life I now lead, and the life I foresee I shall lead. I am angry, and en- vious, and dejected , and frantic , and disregard all present things , as becomes a madman to do. I am infinitely pleased (though it is a gloomy joy) with the application of Dr. Swifts complaint, that he is forced to die in a rage, like a poisoned rat in a hole." Let the lover of solitude muse on its picture throughout the year, in the following stanza by the same poet : —

Tedious again to curse the drizzling day,

Again to trace the wintry tracks of snow ! Or, soothed by vernal airs , again survey

The self-same hawthorns bud ! and cowslips blow !

Swiffs letters paint in terrifying colours a picture of solitude , and at length his despair closed with idiotism. The amiable Gresset could not sport w ith the brilliant wings of his butterfly-muse , with- out dropping some querulous expression on the solitude of genius. In his " Epistle to his Muse," he exquisitely paints the situation of men of genius :

" Je les vois , victimes du genie ,

Au foible prix d'un eclat passager, Vivre isole , sans jouir de la vie ! "

And afterwards he adds ,

'' Vingt ans d' ennuis, pour quelques jours de gloire ! "

I conclude with one more anecdote on solitude, which may amuse. When Menage, attacked by some, and abandoned by others, was seized by a fit of the spleen , he retreated into the country, and gave up his famous Mercuriales ; those Wednesdays when the literati assembled at his house, to praise up or cry down one another, as is usual with the literary populace. Menage expected to find that tranquillity in the country which he had frequently described in his verses ; but as he was only a poetical plagiarist , it is not strange that our pastoral writer was greatly disappointed. Some country

4» SOLITUDE.

rogues having killed his pigeons , they gave him more vexation than his critics. He hastened his return to Paris. " It is belter," he observed, "since we are born to suffer, to feel only reasonable sorrows."

LITERARY FRIENDSHIPS.

The memorable friendship of Beaumont and Fletcher so closely united their labours , that we cannot discover the productions of either; and biographers cannot, without difficulty, compose the memoirs of the one, without running into the life of the other. They pourtrayed the same characters , while , they mingled senti- ment with sentiment-, and their days were as closely interwoven as their verses. Metastasio and Farinelli were born about the same time, and early accmainted. They called one another Gemello , or The Twin! Both (he delight of Europe , both lived to an advanced age, and died nearly at the same time. Their fortune bore, too, a resemblance 5 for they were both pensioned , but lived and died separated in the distant courts of Vienna and Madrid. Montaigne and Charron were rivals , but always friends 5 such was Montaigne's affection for Charron , that he permitted him by his will to bear the full arms of his family ; and Charron evinced his gratitude to the manes of his departed friend , by leaving his fortune to the sister of Montaigne , who had married. Forty years of friendship , unin- terrupted by rivalry or envy , crowned the lives of Poggius and Leonard Aretin , two of the illustrious revivers of letters. A singular custom formerly prevailed among our own writers , which was an affectionate tribute to our literary veterans by young writers. The former adopted the latter by the title of sons. Ben Jonson had twelve of these poetical sons. Walton the angler adopted Cotton, the translator of Montaigne.

Among the most fascinating effusions of genius are those little pieces which it consecrates to the cause of friendship. In that poem of Cowley , composed on the death of his friend Harvey , the fol- lowing stanza presents a pleasing picture of the employments of two young students : —

" Say4 for you saw us , ye immortal lights , How oft unwearied have we spent tbe nights! Till the Ledaean stars, so famed for love, Wondered at us from above. We spent them not in toys , in lust , or wine , But search of deep philosophy, Wit, eloquence, and poetry, Arts which I loved , for they , my friend , were thine."

Milton has not only given the exquisite Lycidas to the memory of

LITERARY FRIENDSHIPS. v.)

<i young friend , but in his Epitaphium Damonis , to that of Dco- dalus, has poured forth some interesting sentiments. It has been versified by Langhorne. Now, says the poet,

" To whom shall I my hopes and fears impart , Or trust the cares and follies of my heart? "

The elegy ofTickell, maliciously called by Steele "prose in rhyme ," is alike inspired by affection and fancy ; it has a melodious languor , and a melancholy grace. The sonnet of Gray to the me- mory of West is a beautiful effusion , and a model for English sonnets. Helvetius was the protector of men of genius, whom he assisted not only with his criticism , but his fortune. At his death , Saurin read in the French Academy an epistle to the manes of his friend. Saurin , wrestling with obscurity and poverty , had been drawn into literary existence by the supporting hand of Helvetius. Our poet thus addresses him in the warm tones of gratitude :

C'est toi qui me cherchant au seiu de l'infortune

Relevas mon sort abattu, Et scus me rendre chere line vie importune.

* * * + •*■

Qu'importent ccs pleurs —

0 douleur impuissante ! 6 regrets superflus ! Je vis, helas ! je vis, et mon ami n'est plus!

IMITATED.

In Misery's haunts, thy friend thy bounties seize, And give an urgent life some days of ease ; Ah ! ye vain griefs , superfluous tears I chide !

1 live, alas! I live — and thou hast died!

The literary friendship of a father with his son is one of the rarest alliances in the republic of letters. It was gratifying to the feelings of young Gibbon , in the fervour of literary ambition , to dedicate his first fruits to his father. The too lively son of Crebillon , though his was a very different genius to the grandeur of his father's, yet dedicated his works to him , and for a moment put aside his wit and raillery for the pathetic expressions of filial veneration. We have had a remarkable instance in the two Richardsons ; and the father, in his original manner, has in the most glowing language expressed his affectionate sentiments. He says, "My lime of learning was em- ployed in business ; but after all, I have the Greek and Latin tongues, because a part of me possesses them , to whom I can recur at pleasure, just as I have a hand when I would write or paint, feel to walk, and eyes to see. My son is my learning, as I am that to him whicli he has not. — We make one man , and such a cpmpound man may probably produce what no single man can." And further,

11. 4

50 LITERARY FRIENDSHIPS.

" I always think it my peculiar happiness to be as it were enlarged, expanded , made another man , by the acquisition of my son ; and he thinks in the same manner concerning my union with him." This is as curious as it is uncommon ; however the cynic may call it egotism !

Some for their friend have died penetrated with inconsolable grief ; some have sacrificed their character to preserve his own 5 some have shared their limited fortune ; and some have remained attached to their friend in the cold season of adversity.

Jurieu denounced Bayle as an impious writer, and drew his con- clusions from the '.' Avis aux Piefugies." This work is written against the Calvinists, and therefore becomes impious in Holland. Bayle might have exculpated himself with facility , by declaring the work was composed by La Roque ; but he preferred to be persecuted rather than to ruin his friend ; he therefore was silent , and was condemned. When the minister Fouquet was abandoned by all, it was the men of letters he had patronised who never forsook his prison ; and many have dedicated their works to great men in their adversity , whom they scorned to notice at the time when they were noticed by all. The learned Goguel bequeathed his MSS. and library to his friend Fugere , with whom he had united his affections and his studies. His work on the "Origin of the Arts and Sciences,, had been much indebted to his aid. Fugere, who knew his friend to be past recovery , preserved a mute despair , during the slow and painful disease-, and on the death of Goguet, the victim of sensi- bility perished amidst the manuscripts which his friend had in vain bequeathed to prepare for publication. The Abbe de Saint Pierre gave an interesting proof of literary friendship. When he was at college he formed a union with Varignon, the geometrician. They were of congenial dispositions. When he went to Paris he invited Yarignon to accompany him •, but Varignon had nothing , and the abbe was far from rich. A certain income was necessary for the tranquil pursuits of geometry. Our abbe had an income of ISOOlivres; from this he deducted 300 , which he gave to the geometrician , accompanied by a delicacy which few but a man of genius could conceive. "I do not give it to you ," he said, " as a salary, but an annuity, that you may be independent, and quit me when you dislike me." Something nearly similar embellishes our own literary history. When Akenside was in great danger of experiencing famine as well as fame , Mr. Dyson allowed him three hundred pounds a year. Of this gentleman , perhaps , nothing is known; yet whatever his life may be , it merits the tribute of the biographer. To close with these honourable testimonies of literary friendship, we must not omit that of Churchill and Lloyd. It is known that when Lloyd

LITERARY FRIENDSHIPS. 51

heard of the death of our poet, he acted the part which Fugere did to Goguet. The page is crowded , but my facts are by no means exhausted.

The most illustrious of the ancients prefixed the name of some friend to the head of their works. — We too often place that of some patron. They honourably inserted it in their works. When a man of genius , however, shows that he is not less mindful of his social affection than his fame , he is the more loved by his reader. Plato communicated a ray of his glory to his brothers 5 for in his Re- public he ascribes some parts to Adimantus and Glauchon •, and Antiphon the youngest is made to deliver his sentiments in the Par- menides. To perpetuate the fondness of friendship, several authors have entitled their works by the name of some cherished associate. Cicero to his Treatise on Orators gives the title of Brutus 5 to that of Old Age , Cato. They have been imitated by the moderns. The poe- tical Tasso , to his dialogue on Friendship gave the name of Manso, who was afterwards his affectionate biographer. Sepulvueda entitles his Treatise on Glory by the name of his friend Gonsalves. Lociel to his Dialogues on the Lawyers of Paris prefixes the name of the learned Pasquier. Thus Plato distinguished his Dialogues by the names of certain persons; the one onlying is entitled Hippius; on Rhetoric , Gorgias 5 and on Beauty, Phtedrus.

Luther has perhaps carried this feeling to an extravagant point. He was so delighted by his favourite " Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians , " that he distinguished it by a title of doting fondness; he named it after his wife, and called it " His Ca- therine. "

ANECDOTES OF ABSTRACTION OF MIND.

Some have exercised this power of abstraction to a degree that appears marvellous to volatile spirits , and puny thinkers.

To this patient habit, Newton is indebted for many of his great discoveries ; an apple falls upon him in his orchard , — and the system of attraction succeeds in his mind ! he observes boys blow- ing soap bubbles , and the properties of light display themselves ! Of Socrates , it is said , that he would frequently remain an entire day and night in' the same attitude , absorbed in meditation ; and why shall we doubt this , when we know that Lafontaine and Thom- son , Descartes and Newton, experienced the same abstraction? Mercalor, the celebrated geographer, found such delight in the ceaseless progression of his studies , that he would never willingly quit his maps to take necessary refreshments of life. In Cicero's Treatise on Old Age , Cato applauds Gallus , who , when he sat down

58 ANECDOTES 01- ABSTRACTION OF MIND.

to write in (he morning was surprised by the evening ; and when he took up his pen in the evening was surprised by the appearance of the morning. Bufibn once described these delicious moments with his accustomed eloquence. — " Invention depends on patience-, contemplate your subject long ; it will gradually unfold, till a sort of electric spark convulses for a moment the brain, and spreads down to the very heart a glow of irritation. Then come the luxuries of genius ! the true hours for production and composition ; hours so delightful that I have spent twelve and fourteen successively at my writing-desk, and still been in a state of pleasure. " The anec- dote related of Marini, the Italian poet, may be true. Once absorbed in revising his Adonis , he suffered his leg to be burnt for some lime, without any sensation.

Abstraction of this sublime kind is the first step to that noble enthusiasm which accompanies Genius 5 it produces those raptures and that intense delight, which some curious f:cts will explain lo us.

Poggius relates of Dante , that he indulged his meditations more strongly than any man he knew; whenever he read he was only alive to what was passing in his mind 5 to all human concerns , he was as if they had not been ! Dante went one day to a great public pro- cession ; he entered the shop of a bookseller to be a spectator of the passing show. He found a book which greatly interested him : he devoured it in silence , and plunged into an abyss of thought. On his return he declared that he had neither seen , nor heard , the slightest occurrence of the public exhibition which passed before him. This enthusiasm renders every thing surrounding us as distant as if an immense interval separated us from the scene. A modern astronomer, one summer night, withdrew to his chamber 5 the brightness of the heaven showed a phenomenon. He passed the whole night in observing it , and when they came to him early in the morning , and found him in the same attitude , he said , like one who had been recollecting his thoughts for a few moments , " It must be thus; but FU go to bed before 'lis late ! " He had ga- zed the entire night in meditation , and did not know it.

This intense abstraction operates visibly ; this perturbation of the faculties , as might be supposed , affects persons of genius physi- cally. What a forcible description the late Madame Roland , who certainly was a woman of the first genius , gives of herself on her first reading of Telemachus and Tasso. " My respiration rose ; I felt a rapid fire colouring my face , and my voice changing , had betrayed my agitation 5 I was Eucharis for Telemachus, and Ermi- nia for Tancred ; however, during this perfect transformation , I did not yet think that I myself was any thing , for any one. The

ANECDOTES OF ABSTRACTION OF MIND. b3

whole had no connexion with myself, I sought for nothing around me 5 I was them , I saw only the objects which existed for them •, it was a dream , without being awakened." — Metastasio describes a similar situation, " When I apply with a little attention, the nerves of my sensorium are put into a violent tumult. I grow as red in the face as a drunkard , and am obliged to quit my work. When Malebranche first took up Descartes on Man , the germ and origin of his philosophy, he was obliged frequently to interrupt his reading by a violent palpitation of the heart. When the first idea of the Essay on the Arts and Sciences rushed on the mind of Rousseau , it occasioned such a feverish agitation that it approached to a de- lirium.

This delicious inebriation of the imagination occasioned the an- cients , who sometimes perceived the effects , to believe it was not short of divine inspiration. Fielding says , " I do not doubt but that the most pathetic and affecting scenes have been writ with tears.11 He perhaps would have been pleased to have confirmed his obser- vation by the following circumstances. The tremors of Dryden , after having written an Ode , a circumstance tradition has acciden- tally handed down , were not unusual with him ; in the preface to his Tales he tells us , that in translating Homer he found greater pleasure than in Virgil ; but it was not a pleasure without pain 5 the continual agitation of the spirits must needs be a weakener to any constitution , especially in age , and many pauses are required for refreshment betwixt the heats. In writing the ninth scene of the second act of the Olympiad , Metastasio found himself in tears •, an effect which afterwards , says Dr. Burney, proved very contagious. It was on this occasion that that tender poet commemorated the cir- cumstance in the following interesting sonnet : — ■

SONNET FROM METASTASIO.

Scrii'endo VAulore in Vienna V anno 1733 la sua Olimpiade si send tommosso fino alle lagrime nell esprimere la dii'isione cli due teneri amici : e meravi- gliandosi che unj'also, e da lid invenlato disastro , potesse cagionargli una si vera passione, sifece a riflettere quanto poco ragionevole e solido fonda- mento possano aver le altre die soglion frequentamente agitarci, nel corso di nostra vita.

Sogni e favole io fingo , e pure in carte Mentre favole, e sogni, oruo e disegno , In lor, (folle ch'io son ! ) prendo tal parte Che del mal che iuveutai piango, e mi sdeguo. Ma forse allor che non m'inganna l'arte , Piu saggio io sono e l'agitato ingegno Forse allor piu Iranquillo? O forse parte Da piu salda cagion I'amor, 1<> sdeguo?

54 ANECDOTES OF ABSTRACTION OF MIND.

All clie non sol quelle, ch'io cauto, o scrivo Fa vole son • ma quauto temo , o spero. Tutt' e menzogna, e delirando io vivo! Sogno della mia vita e il corso intero. Deli tu , Signor, qnando a destarmi arrivo Fa, ch'io trovi riposo iu Sea del VRRO.

Jn 1733, the Author composing his Olympiad , felt lumself suddenly moved , even to tears, in expressing the separation of two tender Lovers. Surprised that a fictitious grief , invented too by himself, could raise so true a passion, he reflected how little reasonable and solid a foundation the others had , which so frequently agitated us in this state of our existence,

SONNET— Imitated.

Fables and dreams I feign ; yet though but verse

The dreams and fables that adorn this scroll , Fond fool , I rave , and grieve as I rehearse ;

While genuine tears for fancied sorrows roll. Perhaps the dear delusion of my art

Is wisdom; and the agitated mind, As still responding to each plaintive part,

With love and rage , a tranquil hour can find. Ah ! not alone the tender rhymes I give

Are fictions : hut my fears and hopes I deem Are fables all; deliriously I live,

And life's whole course is one protracted dream. Eternal Power! when shall I wake to rest

This wearied brain on Truth's immortal breast?

RICHARDSON.

The censure which the Shakespeare of novelists has incurred for the tedious procrastination and the minute details of his fable 5 his slow unfolding characters , and the slightest gestures of his person- ages, is extremely unjust ; for is it not evident that we could not have his peculiar excellences without these accompanying defects? When characters are very fully delineated , the narrative must be suspend- ed. Whenever the narrative is rapid , which so much delights su- perficial readers , the characters cannot be very minutely featured ; and the writer who aims to instruct ( as Richardson avowedly did ) by the glow and eloquence of his feelings , must often sacrifice to this his local descriptions. Richardson himself has given us the principle that guided him in composing. He tells us, " If I give speeches and conversations , I ought to give them justly •, for the humours and characters of persons cannot be known unless I re- peal what they say, and their manner of saying."

Foreign critics have been more just to Richardson than many of his own countrymen. I shall notice the opinions of three celebrated writers , D'Alembert , Rousseau , and Diderot.

RICHARDSON. 55

DAlembert was a great mathematician. His literary taste was extremely cold : he was not worthy of reading Richardson. The volumes, if he ever read them , must have fallen from his hands. The delicate and subtle turnings , those folds of the human heart , which require so nice a touch, was a problem which the mathema- tician could never solve. There is no other demonstration in the human heart, but an appeal to its feelings 5 and what are the calcu- lating feelings of an arithmetician of lines and curves ? He therefore declared of Richardson that " La Nature est bonne a imiter, mais non pas jusqua rennui."

But thus it was not with the other two congenial geniuses ! The fervent opinion of Rousseau must be familiar to the reader | but Diderot, in his eloge on Richardson , exceeds even Rousseau in the enthusiasm of his feelings. I extract some of the most interesting passages. Of Clarissa he says, "I yet remember with delight the first time it came into my hands. I was in the country. How deli- ciously was I affected ! At every moment I saw my happiness abridged by a page. I then experienced the same sensations those feel who have long lived with one they love, and are on the point of separa- tion. At the close of the work I seemed to remain deserted."

The impassioned Diderot then breaks forth : " O Richardson! thou singular genius in my eyes ! thou shalt form my reading in all times. If forced by sharp necessity, my friend falls into indigence ; if the mediocrity of my fortune is not sufficient to bestow on my children the necessary cares for their education , I will sell my books, — but thou shalt remain ! yes , thou shalt rest in the same class with Moses , Homer , Euripides , and Sophocles , to be read alternately.

" OhRichardson, I dare pronounce that the most veritable history is full of fictions, and thy romances are full of truths. History paints some individuals $ thou paintesl the human species. History attri- butes to some individuals what they have neither said nor done ; all that thou altributest to man he has said and done. History em- braces but a portion of duration , a point on the surface of the globe; thou hast embraced all places and all times. The human heart , which has ever been and ever shall be the same , is the model thou copiest. If we were severely to criticise the best historian, would he maintain his ground as thou? In this point of view , I venture to say, that frequently history is a miserable romance ; and romance, as thou hast composed it , is a good history. Painter of nature, thou never liesl !

" I have never yet met with a person who shared my enthu- siasm , that I was not tempted to embrace , and to press him in mj arms !

56 RICHARDSON.

" Richardson is no more! His loss touches me , as if my brother was no more. I bore him in my heart without having seen him, and knowing him but by his works. He has not had all the reputation he merited. Richardson ! if living , thy merit has been disputed 5 iiow great wilt thou appear to our children's children , when we shall view thee at the distance we now view Homer ! Then who will dare to steal a line from thy sublime works ! Thou hast had more admirers amongst us than in thine own country , and at this I rejoice ! "

It is probable that to a Frenchman the style of Richardson is not so objectionable when translated, as to ourselves. I think myself, that it is very idiomatic and energetic; others have thought diffe- rently. The misfortune of Richardson was , that he was unskilful in the art of writing, and that he could never lay the pen down while his inkhorn supplied it.

He was delighted by his own works. No author enjoyed so much the bliss of excessive fondness. I heard from the late Charlotte Le- nox, the anecdote which so severely reprimanded his innocent vanity, which Roswell has recorded. This lady was a regular vi- siter at Richardson's house , and she could scarcely recollect one visit which was not taxed by our author reading one of his volu- minous letters , or two or three , if his auditor was quiet and friendly.

The extreme delight which he felt on a review of his own works the works themselves witness. Each is an evidence of what some will deem a violent literary vanity. To Pamela is prefixed a letter* from the editor (whom we know to be the author), consisting of one of the most minutely laboured panegyrics of the work itself, that ever tiie blindest idolater of some ancient classic paid to the object of his phrenetic imagination. In several places there , he contrives to repeat the striking parts of the narrative, which display the fer- tility of his imagination to great advantage. To the author's own edition of his Clarissa is appended an alphabetical arrangement of the sentiments dispersed throughout the work ; and such was the fondness that dictated tiiis voluminous arrangement, that such tri- vial aphorisms as, "habits are not easily changed,11 "men are known by their companions ," etc. seem alike to be the object of their author's admiration. This collection of sentiments , said indeed to have been sent to him anonymously, is curious and useful , and shows the value of the works , by the extensive grasp of that mind which could think so justly on such numerous topics. And in his third and final labour, to each volume of .Sir Charles Grandisou is not only prefixed a complete index , with as much exactness as if it were a History of England, but there is als^e appended a list of

RICHARDSON. 57

the similes and allusions in the volume ; some of which do not exceed three or four in nearly as many hundred pages.

Literary history does not record a more singular example of that self-delight which an author has felt on a revision of his works. It was this intense pleasure which produced his voluminous labours. It must be confessed there are readers deficient in that sort of genius which makes the mind of Richardson so fertile and prodigal.

INFLUENCE OF NAMES.

What's in a name ? Tliat which we call a rose, By any other name would smell as sweet.

Names , by an involuntary suggestion , produce an extraordinary illusion. Favour or disappointment has been often conceded as the name of the claimant has affected us-, and the accidental affinity or coincidence of a name , connected with ridicule or hatred, with pleasure or disgust, has operated like magic. But the facts con- nected with this subject will show how this prejudice has branch- ed out.

Sterne has touched on this unreasonable propensity of judging by names , in his humorous account of the elder Mr. Shandy's system of christian names. And Wilkes has expressed , in BoswelFs Life of Johnson, all the influence of baptismal names, even in mat- ters of poetry ! He said , " The last city poet was Elkanah Settle. There is something in names which one cannot help feeling. Now Elkanah Settle sounds so queer, who can expect much from that name? We should have no hesitation to give it for Jo/in Dry den in preference to Elkanah Settle , from the names only, without knowing their different merits."

A lively critic noticing some American poets says, " There is or was a Mr. Dwight who wrote a poem in the shape of an epic -, and his baptismal name was Timothy; " and involuntarily we infer the sort of epic that a Timothy must write. Sterne humorously exhorts all godfathers not " toNicodemus a man into nothing! "

There is more truth in this observation than some may be incli- ned to allow ; and that it affects mankind strongly, all ages and all climates may be called on to testify. Even in the barbarous age of Louis XL, they felt a delicacy respecting names , which produced an ordinance from his majesty. The kings barber was named Oli- vier le Diable. At first the king allowed him to get rid of the offen- sive part by changing it to Le Malin; but the improvement was. not happy, and for a third time he was called Le Mauvais. Even this did not answer his purpose; and as he was a great racer, he finally had his majesty's ordinance to be called Le Daim, under

58 INFLUENCE OF NAMES.

penalty of law if any one should call him Le Viable , Le Malin , or Le Mauvais. According to Platina , Sergius the Second was the first pope who changed his name in ascending the papal throne j because his proper name was ILog's-mouth, very unsuitable with the pomp of the tiara. The ancients felt the same fastidiousness; and among the Romans, those who were called to the equestrian order, having low and vulgar names, were new-named on the occasion, lest the former one should disgrace the dignity.

When Barbier, a French wit , was chosen for the preceptor of Colbert's son , he felt his name was so uncongenial to his new pro- fession , that he assumed the more splendid one of D'Aucour, by which he is now known. Madame Gomez had married a person named Bonhomme,but she would never exchange her nobler Span- ish name to prefix her married one to her romances , which indi- cated loo much of meek humility. Guez (a beggar) is a French writer of great pomp of style; but he felt such extreme delicacy at so low a name, that to give some authority to the splendour of his diction , he assumed the name of his estate ; and is well known as Balzac. A French poet of the name of Theophile Viaut , finding (hat his surname, pronounced like veau (calf), exposed him to the infinite jests of the minor wits , silently dropped it , by retaining the more poetical appellation of Theophile. Various literary artifi- ces have been employed by some who , still preserving a natural attachment to the names of their fathers , yet blushing at the same time for their meanness , have in their Latin works attempted to obviate the ridicule which they provoked. One Gaucher (left-hand- ed) borrowed the name of Scevola, because Scevola , having burnt his right arm , became consequently left-handed. Thus also one De la Borgne ( one-eyed ) called himself Strabo ; De Charpen- tier took that of Fabricius; De Valet translated his Servilius; and an unlucky gentleman , who bore the name of Du bout a" Homme, boldly assumed that of Virulus. Dorat , a French poet , had for his real name Disnemandi . which, in the dialect of the Limousins, signifies one who dines in the morning ; that is , who has no other dinner than his breakfast. This degrading name he changed to Do- rat, or gilded, a nickname which one of his ancestors had borne for his fair tresses. But by changing his name , his feelings were not entirely quieted , for unfortunately his daughter cherished an invincible passion for a learned man , who unluckily was named Goulu; that is, a shark, or gluttonous as a shark. Miss Disne- mandi felt naturally a strong attraction for a goidu ,■ and in spile of her father's remonstrances, she once more renewed his sorrows in this alliance!

There are unfortunate names, which are very injurious to the

INFLUENCE OF NAMES. 59

cause in which they are engaged; for instance , the long parliament in Cromwell's time , called by derision the Rump, was headed by one Barebones , a leather-seller. It was afterwards called by his unlucky name , which served to heighten the ridicule cast over it by the nation.

Formerly a custom prevailed with learned men to change their names. They showed at once their contempt for vulgar denominations ' and their ingenious erudition. They christened themselves w ith Latin and Greek. This disguising of names came, at length, to be consi- dered to have a political tendency, and so much alarmed Pope Paul the Second , that he imprisoned several persons for their using certain affected names, and some , indeed, which they could not give a reason why they assumed. Desiderius Erasmus was a name formed out of his family name Gerard, which in Dutch signifies amiable-, or Gar all, aerd nature. He first changed it to a Latin word of much the same signification , desiderius , which afterwards he refined into the Greek Erasmus, by which name he is now known. The celebrated Reuchlin, w hich in German signifies smoke, considered it more dignified to smoke in Greek by the name of Capnio. An Italian physician of the name of Senza Malizia pri- ded himself as much on his translating it into the Greek Akakia , as on the works which he published under that name. One of the most amiable of the reformers was originally named Hertz Schwarts (black heart) , which he elegantly turned into the Greek name of Melancthon. The vulgar name of a great Italian poet was Tra- passo ; but when the learned Gravina resolved to devote the youth to the muses , he gave him a mellifluous name , which they have known and clerished — Metastasio.

Harsh names will have , in spite of all our philosophy, a painful and ludicrous effect on our ears and our associations : it is vexatious that the softness of delicious vowels , or the ruggedness of inexor- able consonants, should at all be connected with a mans happiness, or even have an influence on his fortune.

The actor Macklin was softened down by taking in the first and last syllables of the name of Maclaughlin , as Malloch was pol- ished to Mallet; and even our sublime Milton, in a moment of humour and hatred to the Scots , condescends to insinuate that their barbarous names arc symbolical of their natures, — and from a man of the name of Mac Colleittok, he expects no mercy. Yirgil, when young , formed a design of a national poem , but was soon discour- aged from proceeding, merely by the roughness and asperity of the old Roman names, such as Decius Mus; Lucumo; Fibius Cau- dex. The same thing has happened to a friend who began an Epic on the subject of Drake's discoveries ; the name of the hero often

CO INFLUENCE OF NAMES.

will produce a ludicrous effect , but one of the most unlucky of bis chief heroes must be Thomas Doughty ! One of Blackmore's chief heroes in his Alfred is named Gurtter; a printer's erratum might have been fatal to all his heroism ; as it is, he makes a sorry appear- ance. Metastasio found himself in the same situation. In one of his letters he writes, " The title of my new opera is II lie Pastor. The chief incident is the restitution of the kingdom of Sidon to the lawful heir ; a prince with such a hypochondriac name , that he would have disgraced the title-page of any piece : who would have been able to bear an opera entitled JJ Abdolonimo? I have con- trived to name him as seldom as possible." So true is it, as the caustic Boileau exclaims of an epic poet of his days , who had shown some dexterity in cacophony, when he chose his hero —

O le plaisant projet J'ua poete ignorant Qui tie tant de heros va choisir Childebrand ; D'uu seul noru quelquefois le son dur et bizarre Rend uu poeme eutier, ou burlesque ou barbare.

Art Poetique , cb. ill. v. 241.

" In such a crowd the Poet were to blame

To choose King Chilperic for his hero's name."

Sir W. Soames.

This epic poet perceiving the town joined in the severe raillery of the poet , published a long defence of his hero's name : but the town was inexorable, and the epic poet afterwards changed Chil- debrand's name to Charles M artel , which probably was disco- vered to have something more humane. Corneille's Pertharite was an unsuccessful tragedy, and Voltaire deduces its ill fortune partly from its barbarous names , such as Garibald and Edvige. Vol- taire , in giving the names of the founders of Helvetic freedom , says , the difficulty of pronouncing these respectable names is inju- rious to their celebrity •, they are Melchtad, Stauffacher, and F altherfurst.

We almost hesitate to credit what we know to be true , that the length or the shoHness of a name can seriously influence the mind. But history records many facts of this nature. Some nations have long cherished a feeling that there is a certain elevation or abasement in proper names. Montaigne on this subject says, "A gentleman, one of my neighbours, in over-valuing the excellences of old times, never omitted noticing the pride and magnificence of the names of the nobility of those days! Don Gramedan , Qua- dragan, Argesilan , when fully sounded, were evidently men of another stamp than Peter, Giles, and Michel." What could be hoped for from the names of Ebeneser, Malachi, and Methusalem?

INFLUENCE OF NAMES, (;'

The Spaniards have long been known for cherishing a passion for dignified names , and are marvellously affected by long and volu- minous ones ; to enlarge them they often add the places of their residence. We ourselves seem affected by triple names ; and the authors of certain periodical publications always assume for their nom de gueiTe a triple name , which doubtless raises them much higher in their reader's esteem than a mere christian and surname. Many Spaniards have given themselves names from some remarkable incident in their lives. One took the name of the Royal Transport for having conducted the Infanta in Italy. Orendayes added de la Paz, for having signed the peace in 1725. Navarro, after a naval battle off Toulon, added la Vittoria, though he had remained in safety at Cadiz while the French admiral Le Court had fought the battle , which was entirely in favour of the English. A favourite of the King of Spain , a great genius , and the friend of Farinelli , who had sprung from a very obscure origin, to express his contempt of these empty and haughty names , assumed , when called to the administration , that of the Marquis of La Ensenada ( nothing in himself).

But the infiuence of long names is of very ancient standing. Lu- cian notices one Simon , who coming to a great fortune aggran- dised his name to Simonides. Dioclesian had once been plain Diodes before he was emperor. When Bruna became queen of France , it was thought proper to convey some of the regal pomp in her name by calling her Brunehault.

The Spaniards then must feel a most singular contempt for a very short name, and on this subject Fuller has recorded a pleasant fact. An opulent citizen of the name of John Cuts (what name can be more unluckily short?) was ordered by Elizabeth to receive the Spanish ambassador 5 but the latter complained grievously, and thought he was disparaged by the shortness of his name. He imagined that a man bearing a monosyllabic name could never, in the great alphabet of civil life , have performed anything great or honourable , but when he found that honest John Cuts displayed a hospitality which had nothing monosyllabic in it, he groaned only at the utterance of the name of his host.

There are names indeed , which in the social circle will in spite of all due gravity awaken a harmless smile, and Shenslone solemnly thanked God that his name was not liable to a pun. There are some names which excite horror, such as Mr. Stab-back ; others contempt , f^Mr. Twopenny -, and others of vulgar or absurd signification , subject too often to the insolence of domestic witlings, which oc- casions irritation even in the minds of worthy , but suffering, men.

C2 INFLUENCE OF NAMES.

There is an association of pleasing ideas with certain names , — and in the literary world they produce a fine effect. Bloomfield is a name apt and fortunate for a rustic bard; as Florian seems to describe his sweet and flowery style. Dr. Parr derived his first ac- quaintance with the late Mr. Homer from the aptness of his name , associating with his pursuits. Our writers of romances and novels are initiated into all the arcana of names , which costs them many painful inventions. It is recorded of one of the old Spanish writers of romance , that he was for many days at a loss to coin a fit name for one of his giants 5 he wished to hammer out one equal in magnitude to the person he conceived in imagination 5 and in the haughty and lofty name oiTraquitantos, he thought he had succeeded. Richard- son, the great father of our novelists-, appears to have considered the name of Sir Charles Grandison as perfect as his character, for his heroine writes, " You know his noble name , my Lucy." He felt the same for his Clementina , for Miss Byron writes, "Ah, Lucy, what a pretty name is Clementina!'''' We experience a certain tenderness for names , and persons of refined imaginations are fond to give affectionate or lively epithets to things and persons they love. Petrarch would call one friend Lelius , and another Socrates, as descriptive of their character.

In our own country, formerly, the ladies appear to have been equally sensible to poetical or elegant jiames , such as Alicia , Ce- licia, Diana, Helena, etc. Spenser, the poet, gave to his two sons two names of this kind ; he called one Silvanus , from the woody Kilcolman , his estate 5 and the other Peregrine , from his having been born in a strange place , and his mother then travelling. The fair Eloisa gave the whimsical name of Astrolabus to her boy ; it bore some reference to the stars , as her own to the sun.

Whether this name of Astrolabus had any scientific influence over the son , I know not 5 but I have no doubt that whimsical names may have a great influence over our characters. The practice of romantic names among persons , even of the lowest orders of society, has become a very general evil ; and doubtless many unfortunate beauties, of the names of Clarissa and Eloisa, might have escaped under the less dangerous appellatives of Elizabeth or Deborah. I know a person who has not passed his life without some inconve- nience from his name , mean talents and violent passions not accord- ing with Antoninus ; and a certain writer of verses might have been no versifier, and less a lover of the true Falernian, had it not been for his namesake Horace. The Americans, by assuming Roma% names , produce ludicrous associations ; Romulus Riggs , and Junius Brutus Booth. There was more sense , when the Foundling Hospital was first instituted, in baptizing the most robust boys,

INFLUENCE OF NAMES. 63

designed for the sea-service , by the names of Drake , Norris , or Blake , after our famous admirals.

It is no trifling misfortune in life to bear an illustrious name; and in an author it is peculiarly severe. A history now by a Mr. Hume, or a poem by a Mr. Pope , would be examined with different eyes than had they borne any other name. The relative of a great author should endeavour not to be an author. Thomas Corneille had the unfortunate honour of being brother to a great poet, and his own merits have been considerably injured by the involuntary compa- rison. The son of Racine has written with an amenity not unworthy of his celebrated father 5 amiable and candid, he had his portrait painted, with the works of his father in his hand , and his eye fixed on this verse from Phaedra ,

" Et moi , fils inconnu d'un si glorieux pere! "

But even his modesty only served to whet the dart of epigram. It was once bitterly said of the son of an eminent literary character,

" He tries to write because his father writ , And shows himself a bastard by his wit."

Amongst some of the disagreeable consequences attending some names , is, when they are unluckily adapted to an uncommon rhyme ; how can any man defend himself from this malicious ingenuity of wit? Freret, one of those unfortunate victims to Boileau's verse, is said not to have been deficient in the decorum of his manners, and he complained that he was represented as a drunkard , merely because his name rhymed to Cabaret. Murphy, no doubt, felicitated himself in his literary quarrel with Dr. Franklin , the poet and critical reviewer, by adopting the singular rhyme of " envy rankling" to his rival's and critic's name.

Superstition has interfered even in the choice of names , and this solemn folly has received the name of a science, called Ono- mantia, of which the superstitious ancients discovered a hundred foolish mysteries. They cast up the numeral letters of names , and Achilles was therefore fated to vanquish Hector, from the numeral letters in his name amounting to a higher number than his rival's. They made many whimsical divisions and subdivisions of names , to prove them lucky or unlucky. But these follies are not those that I am now treating on. Some names have been considered as more auspicious than others. Cicero informs us that when the Romans raised troops , they were anxious that the name, of the first soldier who enlisted should be one of good augury. When the censors numbered the citizens , they always began by a fortunate name , snch as Salvius ^alereus. A person of the name of Regillianus

M INFLUENCE OF NAMES.

was chosen emperor, merely from Ihe royal sound of his name, and Jovian was elected because his name approached nearest to the beloved one of the philosophic Julian. This fanciful superstition was even carried so far that some were considered as auspicious , and others as unfortunate. The superstitious belief in auspicious names was so strong , that Ciesar, in his African expedition , gave a com- mand to an obscure and distant relative of the Scipios, to please the popular prejudice that the Scipios were invincible in Africa. Sueto- nius observes that all those of the family of Caesar who bore the sur- name of Caius perished by the sword. The emperor Severus consoled himself for the licentious life of his empress Julia , from the fatality attending those of her name. This strange prejudice of lucky and unlucky names prevailed in modern Europe. The successor of Adrian VI. (as Guicciardini tells us) wished to preserve his own name on the papal throne ; but he gave up the wish when the con- clave of cardinals used the powerful argument that all the popes who had preserved their own names had died in the first year of their pontificates. Cardinal Marcel Cervin , who preserved his name when elected pope , died on the twentieth day of his pontificate , and this confirmed this superstitious opinion. La Motte le Vayer gravely asserts that all the queens of Naples of the name of Joan , and the kings of Scotland of the name of James, have been unfortunate; and we have formal treatises of the fatality of christian names. It is a vulgar notion that every female of the name of Agues is fated to become mad. Every nation has some names labouring with this popular prejudice.

Herrera , the Spanish historian , records an anecdote in which the choice of a queen entirely arose from her name. When two French ambassadors negotiated a marriage between one of the Spanish princesses and Louis VIII., the names of the royal females were Urraca and Blanche. The former was the elder and the more beautiful , and intended by the Spanish court for the French mon- arch •, but they resolutely preferred Blanche, observing that the name of Urraca would never do! and for the sake of a more mellifluous sound, they carried off, exulting in their own discerning ears , the happier named , but less beautiful princess.

There are names indeed which are painful to the feelings , from the associations of our passions. I have seen the Christian name of a gentleman , the victim of the caprice of his godfather, who is called Blast us Godly, — which , were he designed for a bishop , must irritate religious feelings. I am not surprised that one of the Spanish monarchs refused to employ a sound catholic for his secretary, because his name {Martin Lutero) had an affinity to the name of the reformer. Mr. Rose has recently informed us that an architect

INFLUENCE OF NAMES. 65

called Malacarne, who, I believe , had nothing against him but his name , was lately deprived of his place as principal architect by the Austrian government , — let us hope not for his unlucky name; though that government , according to Mr. Rose , acts on capricious principles ! The fondness which some have felt to perpetuate their names , when their race has fallen extinct , is well known ; and a fortune has then been bestowed for a change of name. But the affection for names has gone even farther. A similitude of names , Camden observes , " dothe kindle sparkes of love and liking among meere strangers." I have observed the great pleasure of persons with uncommon names meeting with another of the same name \ an instant relationship appears to take place ; and I have known that fortunes have been bequeathed for namesakes. An ornamental manufacturer, who bears a name which he supposes to be very uncommon , having executed an order for a gentleman of the same name , refused to send his bill , never having met with the like , preferring to payment the honour of serving him for namesake.

Among the Greeks and the Romans , beautiful and significant names were studied. The sublime Plato himself has noticed the present topic 5 his visionary ear was sensible to the delicacy of a name ; and his exalted fancy was delighted with beautiful names , as well as every other species of beauty. In his Cratyllus he is solicit- ous that persons should have happy, harmonious, and attractive names. According to Aulus Gellius , the Athenians enacted by a public decree , that no slave should ever bear the consecrated names of their two youthful patriots , Harmodius and Aristogiton , — names which had been devoted to the liberties of their country, they con- sidered would be contaminated by servitude. The ancient Romans decreed that the surnames of infamous patricians should not be borne by any other patrician of that family, that their very names might be degraded and expire with them. Eutropius gives a pleasing proof of national friendships being cemented by a name; by a treaty of peace between the Romans and the Sabines, they agreed to melt the two nations into one mass, that they should bear their names con- jointly 5 the Roman should add his to the Sabine , and the Sabine take a Roman name.

The ancients named both persons and things from some event or other circumstanceAconnected with the object they were to name. Chance , fancy, superstition , fondness , and piety, have invented names. It was a common and whimsical custom among the ancients, (observes Larcher) to give as nicknames the letters of the alphabet. Thus a lame girl was called Lambda, on account of the resemblance which her lameness made her bear to the letter a, or lambda! jEsop was called Theta by his master, from his superior acuteness. 11. 5

CC INFLUENCE OF NAMES.

Another was called Beta , from his love of beet. It was thus Scarrort, with infinite good temper, alluded to his zig-zag body, by compar- ing himself to the letters s or z.

The learned Calmet also notices among the Hebrew, nicknames and names of raillery taken from defects of body or mind , etc. One is called Nabal, or fool; another Hamor, the Ass; Hagab, the Grasshopper, etc. Women had frequently the names of animals ; as Deborah , the Bee; Rachel, the Sheep. Others from their nature or other qualifications; as Tamar, the Palm-tree; Hadassa, the Myrtle; Sarah, the Princess; Hannah, the Gracious. The In- dians of North America employ sublime and picturesque names; such are the great Eagle— the Partridge— Dawn of the Day! — Great swift Arrow ! — Path-opener! — Sun-bright!

THE JEWS OF YORK.

Among the most interesting passages of history are those in which we contemplate an oppressed, yet sublime spirit, agitated by the conflict of two terrific passions : implacable hatred attempting a resolute vengeance , while that vengeance , though impotent , with dignified and silent horror, sinks into the last expression of despair. In a degenerate nation , we may, on such rare occasions, discover among them a spirit superior to its companions and its fortune.

In the ancient and modern history of the Jews we may find two kindred examples. I refer the reader for the more ancient narrative to the second book of the Maccabees, chap. xiv. v. 37. No feeble and unaffecting painting is presented in the simplicity of the ori- ginal. I proceed to relate the narrative of the Jews of York.

When Richard I. ascended the throne , the Jews , to conciliate the royal protection , brought their tributes. Many had hastened from remote parts of England , and appearing at Westminster, the court and the mob imagined that they had leagued to bewitch his majesty. An edict was issued to forbid their presence at the coro- nation, but several, whose curiosity was greater than their prudence, conceived that they might pass unobserved among the crowd , and ventured to insinuate themselves into the abbey. Probably their voice and their visage alike betrayed them, for they were soon discovered ; they Hew diversely in great consternation, while many were dragged out with little remains of life.

A rumour spread rapidly through the city, that in honour of the festival the Jews were to be massacred. The populace, at once eager of royalty and riot , pillaged and burnt their houses, and murdered the devoted Jews. Benedict, a Jew of York , to save his life received baptism 5 and returning to that city, with his friend Jocenus, the most

THE JEWS OF YORK. 67

opulent of the Jews , died of his wounds. Jocenus and his servants narrated the late tragic circumstances to their neighbours, but where they hoped to move sympathy they excited rage. The people at York soon gathered to imitate the people at London 5 and their first as- sault was on the house of the late Benedict , which haying some strengh and magnitude , contained his family and friends , who found their graves in its ruins. The alarmed Jews hastened to Joce- nus , who conducted them to the governor of York Castle , and pre- vailed on him to afford them an asylum for their persons and effects. In the mean while their habitations were levelled , and the owners murdered, except a few unresisting beings, who, unmanly in sus- taining honour, were adapted to receive baptism.

The castle had sufficient strengh for their defence ; but a suspi- cion arising that the governor, who often went out , intended to be- tray them , they one day refused him entrance. He complained to the sheriff of the county, and the chiefs of the violent party, who stood deeply indebted to the Jews , uniting with him , orders were issued to attack the castle. The cruel multitude, united with the sol- diery, fell such a desire of slaughtering those they intended to des- poil, that the sheriff, repenting of the order, revoked it, but in vain; fanaticism and robbery once set loose will satiate their appetency for blood and plunder. They solicited the aid of the superior citi- zens , who , perhaps not owing quite so much money to the Jews , humanely refused it 5 but having addressed the clergy ( the barba- rous clergy of those days ) were by them animated , conducted , and blest.

The leader of "this rabble was a canon regular, whose zeal was so fervent that he stood by them in his surplice , which he considered as a coat of mail , and reiteratedly exclaimed, " Destroy the ene- mies of Jesus ! " This spiritual laconism invigorated the arm of men who perhaps wanted no other stimulative than the hope of obtaining the immense property of the besieged. It is related of this canon , that every morning before he went to assist in battering the walls he swallowed a consecrated wafer. One day having approached too near, defended as he conceived by his surplice , this church mili- tant was crushed by a heavy fragment of the wall , rolled from the battlement.

But the avidity of certain plunder prevailed over any reflection , which , on another occasion, the loss of so pious a leader might have raised. Their attacks continued ; till at length the Jews perceived the could hold out no longer, and a council was called , to consider what remained to be done in this extremity of danger.

Among the Jews, their elder Rabbin was most respected. I thas been customary with this people to invite for this place some fo-

68 THE JEWS OF YORK.

reigner, renowned among (hem for the depth of his learning , and the sanctity of his manners. At this time the Haham , or elder Rab- bin , was a foreigner , who had been sent over to instruct them in their laws , and was a person , as we shall observe , of no ordinary qualifications. When the Jewish council was assembled, the Haham rose and addressed them in this manner — " Men of Israel ! the God of our ancestors is omniscient , and there is no one who can say, Why doest thou this ? This day he commands us to die for his law ; for that law which we have cherished from the first hour it was given , which we have preserved pure throughout our captivity in all na- tions , and which for the many consolations it has given us, and the eternal hope it communicates , can we do less than die ? Posterity shall behold this book of truth , sealed with our blood ; and our death, while it displays our sincerity , shall impart confidence to the wanderer of Israel. Death is before our eyes •, and we have only to choose an honourable and easy one. If we fall into the hands of our enemies , which you know we cannot escape , our death will be ignominious and cruel ; for these Christians , who picture the Spirit of God in a dove, and confide in the meek Jesus, are athirst for our blood , and prowl around the castle like wolves. It is therefore my advice that we elude their tortures 5 that we ourselves should be our own executioners ; and that we voluntarily surrender our lives to our Creator. We trace the invisible Jehovah in his acts ; God seems to call for us , but let us not be unworthy of that call. Suicide , on occasions like the present , is both rational and lawful ; many exam- ples are not wanting among our forefathers : as I advise , men of Israel, they have acted on similar occasions." Having said this , the old man sat down and wept.

The assembly was divided in their opinions. Men of fortitude ap- plauded its wisdom , but the pusillanimous murmured that it was a dreadful counsel.

Again the Rabbin rose , and spoke these few words in a firm and decisive tone , — " My children ! since we are not unanimous in our opinions, let those who do not approve of my advice depart from this assembly ! ' — Some departed, but the greater number attached themselves to their venerable priest. They now employed themselves in consuming their valuables by fire 5 and every man , fearful of trusting to the timid and irresolute hand of the women , first des- troyed his wife and children , and then himself. Jocenus and the Rabbin alone remained. Their life was protracted to the last , that they might see every thing performed , according to their orders. Jocenus , being the chief Jew, was distinguished by the last mark of human respect, in receiving his death from the consecrated hand of

THE JEWS OF YORK. 69

the .aged Rabbin, who immediately after performed the melancholy duty on himself.

All this was transacted in the depth of the night. In the morning the walls of the castle were seen wrapt in flames , and only a few miserable and pusillanimous beings , unworthy of the sword , were viewed on the battlements, pointing to their extinct brethren. When they opened the gates of the castle , these men verified the predic- tion of their late Rabbin 5 for the multitude , bursting through the solitary courts , found themselves defrauded of their hopes , and in a moment avenged themselves on the feeble wretches who knew not to die with honour.

Such is the narrative of the Jews of York , of whom the historian can only cursorily observe that five hundred destroyed themselves ; but it is the philosopher who inquires into the causes and the man- ner of these glorious suicides. These are histories which meet only the eye of few, yet they are of infinitely more advantage than those which are read by every one. We instruct ourselves in meditating on these scenes of heroic exertion 5 and if by such histories we make but a slow progress in chronology, our heart however expands with sentiment.

I admire not the stoicism of Cato more than the fortitude of the Rabbin ; or rather we should applaud that of the Rabbin much more; for Cato was familiar with the animating visions of Plato , and was the associate of Cicero and of Caesar. The Rabbin had probably read only the Pentateuch, and mingled with companions of mean occu- pations , and meaner minds. Cato was accustomed to the grandeur of the mistress of the universe •, and the Rabbin to the littleness of a provincial town. Men, like pictures, may be placed in an obscure and unfavourable light ; but the finest picture , in the unilluminated corner, still retains the design and colouring of the master. My Rab- bin is a companion for Cato. His history is a tale

" Which Cato's self had not disdained to hear." — Pope.

THE SOVEREIGNTY OF THE SEAS.

The sovereignty of the seas , which foreigners dispute with us , is as much a conquest as any one obtained on land 5 it is gained and preserved by our cannon , and the French , who , for ages past , exclaim against what they call our tyranny, are only hindered from becoming themselves universal tyrants overland and sea, by that sove- reignty of the seas without which Great Britain would cease to exist.

In a memoir of the French Institute , I read a bitter philippic against this sovereignty , and a notice then adapted to the writers purpose , under Bonaparte , of two great works : the one by Selden ,

70 THE SOVEREIGNTY OF THE SEAS.

and the other by Grotius , on this subject. The following is the his- torical anecdote useful to revive : —

In 1634 a dispute arose between the English and Dutch concern- ing the herring -fishery upon the British coast. The French and Butch had always persevered in declaring that the seas were per- fectly free ; and grounded their reasons on a work of Grotius.

So early as in 1609 the great Grotius had published his treatise of Mare liberum in favour of the freedom of the seas. And it is a curious fact, that in 1618 , Selden had composed another treatise in defence of the king's dominion over the seas ; but which , from ac- cidents which are known , was not published till the dispute revived the controversy. Selden , in 1636, gave the world his Mare Clau- sum , in answer to the Mare Liberum of Grotius.

Both these great men felt a mutual respect for each other. They only knew the rivalry of genius.

As a matter of curious discussion and legal investigation , the phi- losopher must incline to the arguments of Selden , who has proved by records the first occupancy of the English , and the English do- minion over the four seas , to the utter exclusion of the French and Dutch from fishing, without our licence. He proves that our kings have always levied great sums , without even the concurrence of their parliaments , for the express purpose of defending this sove- reignty at sea. A copy of Seidell's work was placed in the council- chest of the Exchequer, and in the court of admiralty, as one of out- most precious records.

The historical anecdote is finally closed by the Dutch themselves , who now agreed to acknowledge the English sovereignty in the seas , and pay a tribute of thirty thousand pounds to the King of En- gland, for liberty to fish in the seas, and consented to annual tributes.

That the Dutch yielded to Seidell's arguments is a triumph we cannot venture to boast. The ultima ratio regum prevailed ; and when we had destroyed their whole fishing fleet , the affair appeared much clearer than in the ingenious volumes of Grotius or Selden. Another Dutchman presented the States-General with a ponderous reply to Selden's Mare Clausum , but the wise Sommclsdyke ad- vised the Stales to suppress the idle discussion ; observing that this affair must be decided by the sword, and not by the pen.

It may be curious to add, that as no prevailing or fashionable subject can be agitated , but some idler must interfere to make it extravagant and very new , so this grave subject did not want for something of this nature. A learned Italian , I believe , agreed with our author Selden in general, that the sea , as v>e!l as the earth . is subject to some States ; but he maintained , that the dominion 0! the sea belonged to the Genoese!

ON THE CUSTOM OF KISSING HANDS.

M. Morin, a French academician , has amused himself with col- lecting several historical notices of this custom. I give a summary, for the benefit of those who have had the honour of kissing his ma- jesty's hand. It is not those who kiss the royal hand who could write hest on the custom.

This custom is not only very ancient , and nearly universal , but has been alike participated by religion and society.

To begin with religion. From the remotest times men saluted the sun , moon , and stars , by kissing the hand. Job assures us that he was never given to this superstition , xxxi. 26. The same honour was rendered to Baal, Kings i. 18. Other instances might be adduced.

We now pass to Greece. There all foreign superstitions were re- ceived. Lucian , after having mentioned various sorts of sacrifices which the rich offered the gods , adds , that the poor adored them by the simpler compliment of kissing their hands. That author gives an anecdote of Demosthenes , which shows this custom. When a prisoner to the soldiers of Antipater , he asked to enter a temple. — When he entered , he touched his mouth w ith his hands , which the guards took for an act of religion. He did it, however, more securely to swallow the poison he had prepared for such an occa- sion. He mentions other instances.

From the Greeks it passed to the Romans. Pliny places it amongst those ancient customs of which they were ignorant of the origin or the reason. Persons were treated as atheists , who would not kiss their hands when they entered a temple. When Apuleius mentions Psyche , he says , she was so beautiful that they adored her as Ve- nus , in kissing the right hand.

This ceremonial action rendered respectable the earliest institu- tions of Christianity. It was a custom with the primaeval bishops to give their hands to be kissed by the ministers who served at the altar.

This custom , however, as a religious rite , declined with Pa- ganism.

In society our ingenious academician considers the custom of kissing hands as essential to its welfare. It is a mute form , which expresses reconciliation , which entreats favours , or which thanks for those received. It is an universal language , intelligible without an interpreter ; which doubtless preceded writing , and perhaps speech itself.

Solomon says of the flatterers and suppliants of his lime , that they ceased not to kiss the hands of their patrons , till they had ob-

72 OIN THE CUSTOM OF KISSING HANDS.

tained the favours which they solicited. In Homer we see Priam kissing the hands and embracing the knees of Achilles , while he supplicates for the body of Hector.

This custom prevailed in ancient Rome , but it varied. In the first ages of the republic, it seems to have been only practised by in- feriors to their superiors : — equals gave their hands and embraced. In the progress of time even the soldiers refused to show this mark of respect to their generals ; and their kissing the hand of Cato when he was obliged to quit them was regarded as an extraordinary circumstance, at a period of such refinement. The great respect paid to the tribunes , consuls, and dictators, obliged individuals to live with them in a more distant and respectful manner ; and instead of embracing them as they did formerly, they considered themselves as fortunate if allowed to kiss their hands. Under the emperors , kissing hands became an essential duty, even for the great them- selves $ inferior courtiers were obliged to be content to adore the purple , by kneeling , touching the robe of the emperor by the right hand , and carrying it to the mouth. Even this was thought too free ; and at length they saluted the emperor at a distance , by kiss- ing their hands , in the same manner as when they adored their gods.

It is superfluous to trace this custom in every country where it exists. It is practised in every known country, in respect to sove- reigns and superiors , even amongst the negroes , and the inhabitants of the New World. Cortez found it established at Mexico , where more than a thousand lords saluted him , in touching the earth with their hands , which they afterwards carried to their mouths.

Thus , whether the custom of salutation is practised by kissing the hands of others from respect , or in bringing one's own to the mouth , it is of all other customs the most universal. This practice is now become too gross a familiarity, and it is considered as a meanness to kiss the hand of those with whom we are in habits of intercourse : and this custom would be entirely lost, if lovers were not solicitous to preserve it in all its full power.

POPES.

Valois observes that the Popes scrupulously followed , in the early ages of the church , the custom of placing their names after that of the person whom they addressed in their letters. This mark of their humility he proves, by letters written by various Popes. Thus, when the great projects of politics were yet unknown to them , did they adhere to Christian meekness. At length the day ar- rived when one of the Popes , whose name does not occur to me ,

POPES. 73

said that " it was safer to quarrel with a prince than with a friar." Henry VI. being at the feet of Pope Celestine, his holiness thought proper to kick the crown off his head ; which ludicrous and dis- graceful action , Baronius has highly praised. Jortin observes on this great cardinal , and advocate of the Roman see , that he breathes nothing but fire and brimstone ; and accounts kings and emperors to be mere catchpolls and constables , bound to execute with im- plicit faith all the commands of insolent ecclesiastics. Bellarmin was made a cardinal for his efforts and devotion to the papal cause , and maintaining this monstrous paradox , — that if the pope forbid the exercise of virtue , and command that of vice , the Roman church , under pain of a sin , was obliged to abandon virtue for vice , if it would not sin against conscience!

It was Nicholas I. , a bold and enterprising Pope, who , in 858 , forgetting the pious modesty of his predecessors , took advantage of the divisions in the royal families of France , and did not hesitate to place his name before that of the kings and emperors of the house of France, to whom he wrote. Since that time he has been imitated by all his successors , and this encroachment on the honours of mo- narchy has passed into a custom from having been tolerated in its commencement.

Concerning the acknowledged infallibility of the Popes , it appears that Gregory VII. , in council , decreed that the church of Rome neither had erred, and never should err. It was thus this prerogative of holiness became received, till 1313, when John XXII. abrogated decrees made by three popes his predecessors , and de- clared that what was done amiss by one pope or council might be corrected by another ; and Gregory XI. , 1370, in his will depre- cates , si quid in catholicdfide errasset. The university of Vienna protested against it, calling it a contempt of God, and an idolatry, if any one in matters of faith should appeal from a concile to the Pope; that is, from God who presides in councils , to man. But the infallibility was at length established by Leo X. , especially after Luther s opposition , because they despaired of defending their indulgences, bulls, etc. by any other method.

Imagination cannot form a scene more terrific than when these men were in the height of power , and to serve their political pur- poses hurled the thunders of their excommunications over a kingdom. It was a national distress not inferior to a plague or famine.

Philip Augustus, desirous of divorcing Ingelburg, to unite him- self to Agnes de Meranie, the Pope put his kingdom under an interdict. The churches were shut during the space of eight months ; they said neither mass nor vespers ; they did not marry ; and even

74 POPES.

the offspring of the married, born at this unhappy period, were considered as illicit : and because the king would not sleep with his wife, it was not permitted, to any of his subjects to sleep with theirs ! In that year France was threatened with an extinction of the ordinary generation. A man under this curse of public penance was divested of all his functions , civil , military, and matrimonial ; he was not allowed to dress his hair, to shave, to bathe, nor even change his linen ; so that upon the whole this made a filthy penitent. The good king Robert incurred the censures of the church for having married his cousin. He was immediately abandoned. Two faithful domestics alone remained with him , and these always passed through the fire whatever he touched. In a word, the horror which an excommunication occasioned was such , that a courtesan , with whom one Pelelier had passed some moments , having learnt soon afterwards that he had been above six months an excommunicated person , fell into a panic , and with great difficulty recovered from her convulsions.

LITERARY COMPOSITION.

To literary composition we may apply the saying of an ancient philosopher : — " A little thing gives perfection, although perfection is not a little thing."

The great legislator of the Hebrews orders us to pull off the fruit for the first three years , and not to taste them. He was not ignorant how it weakens a young tree to bring to maturity its first fruits. Thus , on literary compositions , our green essays ought to be pick- ed away. The word Zamar, by a beautiful metaphor from priming trees , means in Hebrew to compose verses. Blotting and correcting was so much Churchill's abhorrence, that I have heard from his publisher he once energetically expressed himself, that it was like cutting away one's own flesh. This strong figure sufficiently shows his repugnance to an author's duty. Churchill now lies neglected , for posterity only will respect those who

" File off the mortal part

Of glowing thought with attic art."

Young.

I have heard that this careless bard, after a successful work, usually precipitated the publication of another, relying on its crudeness being passed over by the public curiosity excited by its better brother. He called this getting double pay, for thus he secured the sale of a hurried work. But Churchill was a spendthrift of fame , and enjoyed all his revenue while he lived ; posterity owes him little, and pays him nothing!

LITERARY COMPOSITION. 75

Bayle , an experienced observer in literary matters , tells us that correction is by no means practicable by some authors , as in the case of Ovid. In exile , his compositions were nothing more than spiritless repetitions of what he had formerly written. He confesses both negligence and idleness in the corrections of his works. The vivacity which animated his first productions failing him when he revised his poems , he found correction loo laborious , and he aban- doned it. This, however, was only an excuse. "It is certain that some authors cannot correct. They compose with pleasure , and with ardour ; but they exhaust all their force. They fly but with one wing when they review their works ; the first fire does not re- turn ; there is in their imagination a certain calm which hinders their pen from making any progress. Their mind is like a boat, which only advances by the strength of oars."

Dr. More , the Platonist , had such an exuberance of fancy, that correction was a much greater labour than composition. He used to say, that in writing his works, he was forced to cut his way through a crowd of thoughts as through a wood and that he threw off in his compositions as much as would make an ordinary philo- sopher. More was a great enthusiast , and , of course , an egotist , so that criticism ruffled his temper, notwithstanding all his Plato- nism. When accused of obscurities and extravagancies , he said that, like the ostrich , he laid his eggs in the sands , which would prove vital and prolific in time ; however, these ostrich eggs have proved to be addled.

A habit of correctness in the lesser parts of composition will assist the