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lilts. li 





CLASS  OP  1871 

^-^v       . 












D.  APPLETON  &  Co.,  200  BROADWAY. 


^^f  3 .  76 




MARCH  16|  1921 


This  miBcellany  was  first  formed^  many  years  ago,  when  two  of  my 
friends  were  occupied  in  those  anecdotical  labours,  which  have  proved  so 
entertaining  to  themselves,  and  their  readers.*  I  conceived  that  a  collec- 
tion of  a  different  complexion,  though  much  less  amusing,  might  prove 
somewhat  more  instructive ;  and  that  literary  history  afforded  an  almost 
unexplored  source  of  interesting  facts.  The  work  itself  has  been  well 
enough  received  by  the  public  to  justify  its  design. 

Every  class  of  readers  requires  a  book  adapted  to  itself  and  that  book 
which  interests,  and  perhaps  brings  much  new  information  to  a  multitude 
of  readers,  is  not  to  be  contemned,  even  by  the  learned.  More  might  be 
alleged  in  favour  of  works  like  the  present  than  can  be  urged  against  them, 
'^hey  are  of  a  class  which  was  well  known  to  the  ancients.  The  Greeks 
were  not  without  them ;  the  Romans  loved  them  under  the  title  of  Yaria 
ErudMo  ;  and  the  Orientalists,  more  than  either,  were  passionately  fond 
of  these  agreeable  collections.  The  fanciful  titles,  with  which  they  de- 
corated their  variegated  miscellanies,  sufficiently  express  their  delight. 

The  design  of  this  work  is  to  stimulate  the  literary  curiosity  of  those, 
who,  with  a  taste  for  its  tranquil  pursuits,  are  impeded  in  their  acquire* 
ments.  The  characters,  the  events,  and  the  singularities  of  modem  Utera- 
ture,  are  not  always  familiar  even  to  those  who  excel  in  classical  studies. 
But  a  more  numerous  part  of  mankind,  by  their  occupations,  or  their  in- 
dolence, both  unfavourable  causes  to  literary  improvement,  require  to  ob- 
tain the  materials  for  thinking,  by  the  easiest  and  readiest  means.  This 
work  has  proved  useful :  it  has  been  reprinted  abroad,  and  it  has  been 
translated ;  and  the  honour  which  many  writers  at  home  have  conferred 
on  it,  by  referring  to  it,  has  exhilarated  the  zealous  labour  which  seven 
editions  have  necessarily  exacted. 

*  The  Ute  William  S«wmrd,  Eiq.,  wod  Junes  Pettit  Aadrowi,  Eiq. 


Th>  p&miod  for  fiHrmmg  vut  coUectiom  of  booln  htm  no- 
comaiily  oziated  in  all  ]>eriodi  of  human  carioutv;  but 
long  it  required  royal  munificence  to  found  a  national  libra- 
ry. It  is  only  since  the  art  of  multiplying  the  productions 
of  the  mind  has  been  discovered,  that  men  of  letters  have 
been  enabled  to  rival  this  imperial  and  patriotic  honour. 
The  taste  for  books,  so  rare  nefore  the  nfteenth  century, 
has  gradually  become  general  only  within  these  four  hun- 
dred years ;  in  that  snudl  space  of  time  the  public  mind  <^ 
Europe  has  been  created. 

Of  I^XBRAaiES,  the  following  anecdotes  seem  most  in- 
teresting, as  they  mark  either  uie  affection,  or  the  venera- 
tion, which  civilized  men  have  ever  felt  for  these  perennial 
repositories  of  their  minds.  The  first  national  library 
founded  in  Egypt  seemed  to  have  been  (4aced  under  the 
protection  (^  the  divinities,  for  their  statues  msj^ficently 
adorned  this  temple,  dedicated  at  once  to  religion  and  to 
literature.  It  was  still  farther  embellished  by  a  well 
known  inscription,  for  ever  grateful  to  the  votary  of  Utera- 
ture ;  on  the  front  was  engraven,  *  The  nourishment  of  the 
soul  ;*  or,  according  to  Diodorus,  *  The  medicine  of  the 

The  Egyptian  Ptolemies  founded  the  vast  library  of 
Alexandria,  which  was  afterwards  the  emulative  labour  of 
rival  monarchs ;  the  founder  infused  a  soul  into  the  vast 
body  he  was  creating,  by  his  choice  of  the  librarian  De- 
metrius Phalereus,  whose  skilful  industry  amassed  from 
an  nations  their  choicest  productions.  Without  such  a 
librarian,  a  national  library  would  be  little  more  than  a 
Uterary  chaos.  His  well  exercised  memory  and  critical 
iudgment  are  its  best  catalogue.  One  of  the  Ptolemies  re- 
fused supplying  the  famished  Athenians  with  wheat,  until 
they  presented  him  with  the  original  manuscripts  of  ^s- 
chylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides ;  and  in  returning  copies 
of  these  orwinals,  he  allowM  them  to  retain  the  fifteen  ta* 
lents  which  he  had  pledged  with  them  as  a  princely 

Even  when  tyrants,  or  usurpers,  possessed  sense  as 
.well  as  courage,  they  have  proved  the  most  ardent  patrons 
of  literature ;  they  know  it  is  their  interest  to  turn  aside  the 
public  mind  from  pditical  speculations,  and  to  afford  their 
subjects  the  inexhaustible  occupations  of  curiosity,  and  the 
consoling  pleasures  of  the  imaginaUon.  Thus  Pisistratus 
is  said  to  have  been  among  the  earliest  of  the  Greeks,  who 
projected  an  immense  collection  of  the  works  of  the  learn- 
ed, and  is  believed  to  have  been  the  collector  of  the  scat- 
tered works,  which  paraed  under  the  name  of  Homer. 

The  Romans,  afler  six  centuries  of  gradual  dominicxi, 
must  have  possessed  the  vast  and  diversified  collections  of 
the  writings  of  the  nations  they  conquered ;  among  the 
most  valuM  spoils  of  their  victories,  we  know  that  manu- 
scripts were  considered  as  more  precious  than  vases 
of  gold.  Paulus  Emilius,  afler  the  defeat  of  Perseus,  king 
of  Macedon,  brought  to  Rome  a  great  number  which  he 
had  amassed  in  Greece,  and  which  he  now  distributed 
among  his  sons,  or  presented  to  the  Roman  people.  S^la 
followed  his  example.  After  the  siege  of  Athens,  he  dis- 
covered an  entire  library  in  the  temple  of  Apollo,  which 
having  carried  to  Rome  he  i^pears  tohave  been  the  founder 
of  the  first  Roman  public  library.  Afler  the  takine  of 
Carthaf[e,  the  Roman  senate  rewarded  the  family  of  Re- 
gnlus  with  the  books  found  in  the  city.  A  library  was  a 
natiooal  gift,  and  the  most  honourable  they  could  oestow. 
From  the  intercourse  of  the  Romans  with  the  Greeks,  the 
passion  for  formine  libraries  rapidly  increased,  and  indivi- 
uals  began  to  pride  themselves  on  their  private  collections. 

Of  manjT  illustrious  Romans,  their  magnificent  taste  in 
IhcvUbrariesmu been  recorded.  AsiniuaPollio,Crassu8 

Cssar,  and  Cicero,  have,  aaoDf  others,  been  celefaraied 
for  their  literary  splendour.  Lueullus,  whose  incrediUa 
opulence  exhaustea  itself  on  more  than  imperial  luzuriMi 
more  honourably  distinguished  himself  by  nis  vast  ooOeo> 
tions  of  books,  and  thenanpy  use  he  made  of  them  by  the 
liberal  access  be  allowed  the  learned.  •  It  was  a  library,* 
says  Plutarch,  <  whose  walks,  galleries,  and  cabinets,  wer« 
open  to  all  visiters ;  and  the  mgenious  Greeks,  when  at 
leisure,  resorted  to  this  abode  oTthe  Muses  to  hold  literary 
conversations,  m  which  Lueullus  himself  loved  to  join.' 
This  library,  enlarged  by  others,  Julius  Cesar  once  pr»> 
posed  to  open  for  the  puDlic,  having  chosen  the  erudite 
Varro  for  lUi  tibrarian ;  but  the  daggers  of  Brutus  and  his 
party  prevented  the  meditated  projects  of  Cesar.  In  this 
museum,  Cicero  frequently  pursued  his  studies,  during  the 
time  his  friend  Faustus  had  the  charge  of  it,  which  he  de- 
scribes to  Atticus  in  his  4th  Book,  Epist.  9.  Amidst  bis 
public  occupations  and  his  private  studies,  either  of  them 
sufficient  to  have  immortalized  one  man,  we  are  astonish- 
ed at  the  minute  attention  Cicero  paid  to  the  frnmation  of 
his  libraries,  and  his  cabinets  of  antiquities. 

The  emperors  were  ambitious  at  length  to  give  their 
names  to  the  libraries  they  founded ;  they  did  not  consider 
the  purple  as  their  chief  ornament.  Augustus  was  himself 
an  author,  and  in  one  of  those  sumptuous  buildings  called 
Thermes,  ornamented  with  porticoes,  galleries,  and  statues, 
with  shady  walks,  and  refreshing  baths,  testified  his  love  of 
literature  by  adding  a  magnificent  library,  one  of  these 
libraries  he  fondly  called  by  the  name  of  his  sister  Octavia; 
and  the  other,  the  temple  of  Apollo,  became  the  haunt  of 
the  poets,  as  Horace,  Juvenal,  and  Persius  have  comme- 
morated. The  successors  of  Augustus  imitated  his  ex- 
ample, and  even  Tiberius  had  an  imperial  library  chiefly 
consisting  of  works  concerning  the  empire  and  the  acts  of 
its  sovereigns.  These  Trajan  augmented  by  the  Ulpian 
library,  so  denominated  from  the  family  name  of  this  prince. 

In  a  word  we  have  accounts  of  the  rich  ornaments  the 
ancients  bestowed  oa  their  libraries ;  of  their  floors  paved 
with  marble,  their  walls  covered  with  glass  and  ivory,  and 
their  shelves  and  desks  of  ebony  and  cedar. 

The  first  public  library  in  llaly,  says  Tiraboschi,  was 
founded  by  a  person  of  no  considerable  fortune :  his  credit, 
his  frugafity,  and  fortitude,  were  indeed  equal  to  a  trea- 
sury. This  extraordinary  man  was  Nicholas  Niccoli,  the 
son  of  a  merchant,  and  in  his  youth  himself  a  merchant; 
but  after  the  death  of  his  father  he  relinquished  the  beaten 
roads  of  gain,  and  devoted  his  soul  to  study,  and  his  for- 
tune to  assist  students.  At  his  death  he  left  his  library  to 
the  public,  but  his  debts  being  greater  than  his  effects,  the 
princely  generosity  of  Cosmo  de  Medici  realized  the  inte»> 
tion  of  us  former  possessor,  and  afterwards  enriched  it,  by 
the  addition  of  an  apartment,  in  which  he  placed  the  Greek, 
Hebrew,  Arabic,  Chaldaic,  and  Indian  mss.  The  intre- 
pid resolution  of  Nicholas  Y,  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
Vatican ;  the  affection  of  Cardinal  Bessarion  for  his  cotm- 
try,  first  gave  Venice  the  rudiments  of  a  public  library;  and 
to  Sir  T.  Bodley  we  owe  the  invaluable  one  of  Oxford. 
Sir  Robert  Cotton,  Sir  H.  Sloane,  Dr  Birch,  Mr  Crach- 
erode,  and  others  of  this  race  of  lovers  of  books,  have  all 
contributed  to  form  these  Uterary  treasures,  which  our  na^ 
tion  owe  to  the  enthusiasm  of  individuals,  who  have  found 
such  pleasure  in  consecrating  their  fortunes  and  their  days 
to  this  great  public  object ;  or,  which  in  the  result  produces 
the  same  public  good,  the  collections  of  such  men  have 
been  frequently  purchased  on  their  deaths,  by  government, 
and  thus  have  entered  whole  and  entire  into  the  great  na^ 
tional  collections. 

Literature,  like  virtue,  is  its  own  reward,  and  the  en- 
thusiasm some  eiperience  in  the  permanent  enjoyments  of 


*  vut  Dbrarf,  have  far  outweighed  the  neglecl  er  the 
himnj  of  the  wnid,  which  eome  of  its  irotahes  have  receiv- 
ed. From  the  tiiBe  that  Cicero  poured  forth  hie  fechm 
in  his  oration  for  the  poet  Ardiiaa,  inmmierable  are  the 
tettiiiioiiiee  oTbmii  of  letten  of  the  pleanirahle  delinam  of 
their  reaearchea ;  that  debcioaa  heverage  which  they  have 
■wallowed,  ao  thirstUj,  from  the  magical  cup  ofliteratnre. 
Richard  de  Bary,  Bishop  oTDorham,  Chancellor  and  high 
treaamer  of  England  ao  early  as  IS41,  perhaps  raned  the 
firat  private  Ubnry  in  oar  country.  He  purchased  thirty 
or  forty  volomea  oTthe  abbot  of  St.  Albana  for  fifty  ponwb 
w<^t  of  ailver.  He  was  ao  enamoured  of  hb  large  col- 
lection, that  he  eipreealy  composed  a  treatise  on  bis  lov^ 
ofbooks,  under  the  title  of  *  Phflobibbou,'  an  honoorahle  tri- 
bute paid  to  literature,  m  an  age  not  literary. 

To  pass  moch  of  our  tane  anud  such  vast  resoarees, 
that  man  mnst  indeed  be  not  more  animated  than  a  leaden 
Mercurv,  who  does  not  aspire  to  make  some  small  addition 
to  his  library,  were  it  only  by  a  critical  catalocue !  He 
must  be  as  indolent  as  that  animal  called  the  sfoth,  who 
perishes  on  the  tree  he  climbs,  after  he  has  eaten  all  its 

Hennr  Ranlxau,  a  Danish  gentlenwn,  the  founder  of  the 
|reat  horary  at  Copenhagen,  whose  days  were  dissolved 
m  the  pleasures  oTreadimr,  discovers  his  taMe  and  ardour 
ia  the  ibUowing  elegant  effusion : 

Salvela  aoreoli  met  libelli, 
Mea  delicia,  mei  leporee . 
Quam  vos  ssepe  oculn  juvai  viders, 
£t  iriKM  roanibua  tenere  nosirts ! 
Tol  vos  ezimii,  tot  eruJiii, 
Priacl  lamina  aisculi  et  recentls. 
Coofecera  viri,  auaaque  vobls 
Aual  credere  Iticubratkmes : 
El  aperare  decus  porvDne  scripcia  ; 
Neque  hoc  Irrita  apes  fefeUit  illoa. 


Ooklan  volumra !  richest  traasuras . 
Ol^Jects  of  deliciouf  pleasaras ! 
Tou  my  eyes  rvjoictiur  please. 
Too  my  hands  In  rajnur<»  rrite ! 
Brilliant  wlc«  and  nui.^inir  «•««:<*«, 
Lights  wh<*  boAuiM  ihmu^h  munj  ajrea ! 
Len  to  your  conscious  leaves  thdr  story. 
And  dared  to  trust  you  with  their  frlory ; 
And  now  their  ho\tt>  of  (kme  arhicr'd. 
Dear  volumes  .*>-you  have  not  denvivcd  i 

Tnls  passion  for  the  acquisition  and  enioyment  cfUMtHf 
«Al  been  (he  occasion  of  Uieir  lovers  e n>bellUhln|{  thmr  out> 
•idea  with  ooally  ornameiita ;  a  rage  which  oatentatioii  may 
have  abused ;  but  when  these  volumes  belong  to  the  real  man 
of  letters,  the  m<Mit  fanciful  bmdinga  are  often  the  emblema 
of  his  taste  and  feelings.  The  gre«t  Thuanus  waa  eager 
to  purchase  I  ha  Aneat  ctipiea  for  his  library,  and  his  volumes 
trs  atill  eagerly  purchased,  bearing  hta  auloj^raph  on  the 
laat  page.  A  celebrated  amaieur  waa  OntlUrr.  whose  li- 
brary waa  opulent  in  those  luxuries ;  the  Muaes  themselves 
ooulil  not  more  uigenuHisly  have  ornamenled  their  favtMiiiie 
works,  I  have  acenaeveral  In  the  libraries  of  our  own  cu- 
rious nollectora,  He  embellishetl  their  outside  with  taste 
and  intfenuity.  Tliey  are  gtUinI  ami  slamiKnl  with  peru« 
liar  nealneaa,  the  cofii|)artntenls  on  (he  binding  are  drawn, 
and  painli«<i,  wlili  liillVrent  inveniions  of  siihjects,  analogous 
to  Ihs  worits  ihemsnivtta  (  nuil  (hnv  are  fkrther  adtMrned  by 
Ihat  amiable  ltiscri)Mion,  Jo  Ort4Hrrii  s#  nmifvrmm!  pur» 
porting  that  these  liirrary  treN«iiies  were  colUuMetl  for  him- 
■elf  and  for  his  lrii«ntls' 

The  f\imilv  of  the  Kuf^gera  had  Inng  f»>U  an  hereiiitary 
paaslofl  for  the  accuiniilaUon  of  lllrrary  treasures )  aiiil 
Uieir  iMiftraMa,  wlUi  uihera  In  iheir  plolure  gallorv,  tornia 
flurioua  quarto  voluiim  of  IIT  nnitrails,  cirt>s«ivp|y  rare 
even  In  (lernianv,  anililml  '  FUKHeiorutu  rinacoiheca/ 
WolHiia,  who  ilaily  haiiiileil  ilieir  ('i>|phraic«l  liluaiy,  jMiure 
out  his  gratllnile  in  aoine  (4reeli  versi«s,  ami  dcsorihes  this 
Rihholhet|ue  aa  a  ttlernry  heawn,  lUiitlsheil  ^Uh  as  manv 
booka  a«  there  were  slnra  in  the  riMnaiu«nt  \  or  as  n  liit*- 
rary  garden,  in  whioh  hn  passed  eniire  Java  In  uniheting 
Ihiit  and  flowers,  d«li||hung  and  insiruiMiiig  hlinspll  by  |ii>i^ 
peiual  occupation. 

In  19(14  the  royal  library  nl  Krance  did  not  eiceeil  (wen. 
ty  vnluiiiea,  Nhorlly  aAer  (Mmilott  V  tnoreassil  it  to  nine 
hundred,  which  by  (he  iHle  «if  war,  as  iniioli  al  li»n«l  as  ihni 
of  money,  the  Dukeol  ll^^iUord  aOvr^vanIa  purchased  and 
iranaported  to  London,  where  Uhraries  wpre  smallsr  Ihan 

OB  the  ooBtment,  abom  1440.    Itisa 
uheiiiBi'wi,  lhat  the  Frendi  sovereign,  Charies  Y, 
named  the  Wise,  ordered  that  thirty  portable  lights, 
a  silver  lamp  suspended  from  the  centre,  shook]  m  flhmuB- 
ated  at  night,  that  stadeots  might  not  fisK)  their  pursuits  in- 
terrapted  at  any  hour.    Many  anioag  us^  at  this 
whose  profossMmal  avocations  ed—^i*  not  oi 
fibad  that  the  resources  of  a  pobbc  library  are  not  I 
to  them  from  the  omissinn  4if  the  regulation  of  the  xealous 
Charles  Y  of  France.    An  ahrmmg  ohfection  to  nighl- 
studies  in  public  libraries  is  the  danger  of  fim,  and  in  our 
own  Britbui  Museum  not  a  li^t  is  peinuttcd  to  he  carried 
about  on    any  pretence  ^diatever.    The  hiamry  of  the 
<  Bibliotheqae  do  Roi*  is  a  curious  incnieBt  in  btenlare* 
and  die  piogiess  of  the  human  mind  and  puhfie  opinioa 
might  be  traced  by  its  sradoal  acoessMos,  noting  the 
changeable  qualities  of  its  uterary  stores  cfaidly  from  theo> 
logy,law  and  medicine,  to  philosophy,  and  degaat  litera- 
ture.    In  1789  Neckar  reckoned  the  literary  treasures  to 
asBount  to  225,000  printed  books,  T0,000  manuscripts,  and 
15,000  cottectians  of  prints.    By  a  curious  Hule  wvtamt 
puUished  bv  M.  Le  Prince  m  1782,  it  appears  that  it  wms 
first  under  Louis  XI Y  that  the  prodoctsons  of  the  art  of 
engraving  were  collected  and  arranged ;  the  great  miiuster 
Cttbert  porchased  the  extensive  collectioos  of  the  Ahb^  de 
MaroUes,  who  nwy  be  ranked  amoeigtbe  fiohersofour 
print-collectors.    Two  hundred  and  aixiy-loor  ali^lie  port- 
lolios  laid  the  foundeticm,  and  the  catalogues  of  hn  ooOe^ 
tiuns,  printed  by  Mar%>s  himself,  are  rare,  curious,  and 
high-pnced.     Our  own  natiottal  pnnt-gallery  is  yet  an  in> 
fant  estabhshmcDt. 

Mr  Haliam  has  ohyerred.  that  hi  1440,  England  had 
made  oomparativelT  but  bttlc  prepress  in  leaming-^uad 
Germany  was  prooab^v  still  less  advanced.  However 
there  was  in  GcnnacT  a  cekbrated  colleclor  of  books  in 
the  person  of  Tnihcinius,  the  celebrated  abbot  of  Spaa- 
heim,  who  died  in  1516 ;  be  had  amassed  about  two  tlioo- 
sand  manu$crij>t$,  a  btcrary  treasure  which  excited  soch 

Seoeral  attention,  that  princes  and  eminent  saen  of  that 
ay  travelled  to  vtsit  Tri:heouus  and  his  hbrary.  About 
thu  time  six  or  rixht  hundred  rolames  formed  a  roval  col> 
lection,  and  <hrir  'in eh  value  in  price  could  only  boTomish* 
ed  by  a  pnnce.  Ttiis  was  indeed  a  great  advancement  in 
librarit*$,  when  at  the  bepnmnff  of  the  fourteenth  centnry 
the  hbmry  of  Louis  IX  cooiaioed  only  four  dassica]  au- 
thors, aoil  lhat  of  Oxfivd,  m  1900,  consvted  of  *  a  few 
tracts  kent  in  chest.' 

The  pleasures  of  study  are  dassed  by  Burton  among 
th(V»e  exercises  or  rccrearions  of  the  inind  which  pass 
within  d<x>rs.  Lookine  about  this  '  vrorid  of  books'  he  ex- 
claims,  *  1  could  even  bre  and  d:e  sdih  such  meditatioos, 
and  take  more  delist  and  true  content  of  mind  in  them, 
than  in  all  thy  wealth  and  s^port!  there  is  a  ssreetnecs, 
which,  as  Cirre*s  cup.  betmcheih  a  stndeM,  he  cannot 
leave  olT,  as  wi^ll  may  witness  tho?e  many  laborioos  hours, 
days  and  Dij;hts,  scM^nt  m  ;heir  rcluminous  treatises.  So 
swret  IS  the  litUj^ht  of  ^tudr.  The  iast  dav  is pnisris «S»> 
tripHfu*.^  *  HviM»«'US  was  mew-d  -jp  :b  the  library  of  Lev- 
den  all  I  he  year  U^s,  and  :hat  irh:oh  to  my  thinkuur  idioidd 
ha>'e  bred  a  loathing,  caused  in  him  a  greater  Iftmg.  I 
no  eooner,  wmth  he,  'cv»n»e  into  :he  {brafr,  but  I  holt  the 
dov'^r  to  me«  etcUidinf  Lu5t.  Ainh::K'n.  Avarice,  and  all 
sueh  vWes,  whtxse  nurse  »  Idleness,  the  mother  of  Ignorw 
ancr  and  Melanchi^y.  In  (he  rery  iap  of  eternity  amon^ 
so  many  divine  soiiis,  I  take  my  seat  with  so  lofty  a  spirit, 
ami  sweet  content,  lhat  I  pity  ail  our  crrat  cam  and  rieh 
men.  that  know  ih>t  this  ha;>oiness.*  ^k>ch  is  the  incerse 
of  a  votary  who  scatters  it  oa  the  ahar  less  for  the  cere- 
mony than  fn^m  the  detx^^xi. 

There  is,  however,  an  inTcniperance  in  studv,  ineompa- 
llbleoOrn  wiih  oiir  $\vial  ivr  nKMe  active  duties.  The 
llhistnous  Gr\>(iu5  ex^vsed  himsc'X  to  the  retwonches  of 
some  of  his  (s^tiomnoranes  fcr  harm*  tc^  warm*T  pmwieo 
his  at  ml  IPS,  to  the  deinnient  of  h»  wS>  sTatienL  It  was 
thu  b»mst  of  l^Kvrxv  that  h»  ph:.o$ophira!  stodies  had 
never  mteiR  f,H|  nith  the  serrict^^  he  owed  die  repohfic, 
auil  ihnt  he  had  only  devhoatrvl  •.>  ihem  the  hoars  which 
tMheis  gave  to  their  walk*.  iheiT  r^oas-*,  and  their  plea- 
Biirrs.  LooKioj  t^i  hi*  vxv(;m>n.  «s  hKx!r«,  i«^  ve  sm- 
pruoil  at  \\\\*  oWervftth^H :  h.^w  h.^«o«ir»b^r  w  it  to  hhn, 
Ihni  his  van.  \i«  j»|oK«t»pS»<-al  m>«k*  hear  the  titles  oTtho 
dillireot  v.lln,  ho  pm<r»>tfd ;  whh-h  shows  lhat  therwere 
rui«|»os..d  in  tl.rir  respeclivr  rrtirvments,  Cicero  mnt 
ha%e  hrrnan  early  riser;  and  ixn»ei,<yvl  that  mac*c  art  ol 
einphiMng  hi*  tune,  at  \^^  have  i>«s  ;.«:wd  hts  dais! 



The  preceding  article  is  honourable  to  literature,  yet 
impartial  truth  must  show  that  even  a  passion  for  coUect- 
ioffbooks  is  not  always  a  passion  for  liierature. 

The  *  Bibiioroaniai*  or  the  collecting  an  enormous  heap 
of  books  Mrithout  intelligent  curiosity,  has,  since  libraries 
hare  existed,  infected  weak  minds,  who  imagine  that  the^ 
themselves  acquire  knowledge  when  they  keep  it  on  their 
■helves.  Their  motley  libraries  have  been  called  the  mad 
Jwiuetofthe  human  mind;  and  again,  the  iombofbookM^ 
when  the  possessor  will  not  communicate  them,  and  cof^ 
fins  them  up  in  the  cases  of  his  library — and  as  it  was 
facetiously  observed,  these  collections  are  not  without  a 
Loick  on  me  human  Understanding.* 

The  Bibliomania  has  never  raged  more  violently  than  in 
the  present  day.  It  is  fortunate  that  hterature  is  in  no 
ways  injured  ^y  the  follies  of  collectors,  since  though  they 
preserve  the  worthless,  they  necessarily  defend  the  good. 

Some  collectors  place  all  their  fame  on  the  vieu>  of  a 
splendid  library,  where  volumes  arrayed  in  all  the  pomp  of 
lettering,  silk  linings,  triple  gold  bands  and  tinted  leather, 
are  locked  up  in  wire  cases,  and  secured  from  the  vulgar 
bands  of  the  mere  reader^  dazzline  our  eyes  hke  eastern 
beauties  peering  through  their  jealousies ! 

Bruyere  has  touched  on  this  mania  with  humour :  '  Of 
such  a  collector,'  sajs  he, '  as  soon  as  I  enter  bis  house,  I 
am  ready  to  faint  on  the  staircase,  from  a  strong  smell  of 
Morocco  leather  :  in  vain  he  shows  me  fine  editions,  gold 
leaves,  Etruscan  bindings,  &c.,  naming  them  one  after 
another,  as  if  he  were  showing  a  gallery  of  pictures !  a  gaU 
lery  by  the  by  which  he  seldom  traverses  when  o/one,  for 
he  rarely  reads,  but  roe  he  oiTers  to  conduct  through  it !  I 
thank  him  for  his  politeness,  and,  as  little  as  himself,  care 
to  visit  the  tan-house,  which  he  calls  his  library.* 

Lucian  has  composed  a  biting  invective  against  an  ig- 
norant possessor  of  a  vast  library.  Like  him,  who  in  the 
present  day,  after  turning  over  the  pages  of  an  old  hook, 
chiefly  admires  the  date.  Lucian  compares  him  to  a  pilot, 
who  was  never  taught  the  science  of  navigation  ;  to  a  rider 
who  cannot  keep  his  seat  on  a  spirited  norse;  to  a  man 
who  not  having  the  use  of  his  feet,  wishes  to  conceal  the 
defect  by  wearing  embroidered  shoes ;  but,  alas !  he  can- 
not stand  in  them  !  He  ludicrously  compares  him  to  Ther- 
sites  wearing  the  armour  of  Achilles,  tottering  at  every 
step ;  leering  with  his  little  eyes  under  his  enormous  hel- 
met, and  his  hunch-back  raising  the  ciiiras8  above  his 
shoulders.  Why  do  you  buy  so  many  books  ?  he  says  :— 
YOU  have  no  hair,  and  you  purchase  a  cnmb;  you  are 
blind,  and  you  will  have  a  ^nd  mirror ;  you  arc  deaf,  and 
you  will  have  fine  musical  instruments !  Your  costly  bind- 
ings are  only  a  source  of  vexation,  and  you  are  coniinually 
dischargins  your  librarians  for  not  preserving  them  from 
the  silent  invasion  of  the  worms,  and  the  nibbling  triumphs 
of  the  rats! 

Such  collectors  will  contemptuously  smile  at  the  collec- 
tion of  the  amiable  Melanctnon.  He  pof'sessed  in  his 
library  only  four  authors,  Plato,  Pliny,  Plutarch,  and 
Ptolemy  the  geographer. 

Anciilon  was  a  great  collector  of  curit)U9  books,  and 
dexterouslv  defended  himself  when  accused  of  the  BihUo^ 
mania.  He  gave  a  good  reason  for  buying  the  most  ele- 
gant editions ;  which  he  did  not  consider  merely  as  a  liter- 
ary luxury.  He  said  the  less  the  eyes  are  fatigued  in 
reading  a  work,  the  more  liberty  the  mind  feels  to  judge  of 
it :  and  a?  we  perceive  more  clearly  the  excellencies  and 
defects  of  a  printed  book  than  when  in  Ms ;  so  we  see 
them  more  plainly  in  good  paper  and  clear  type  than  when 
the  impression  and  paper  are  both  bad.  He  always  pur- 
chased Jhst  editions,  and  never  wailed  for  seconci  ones ; 
though  it  is  the  opinion  of  some  that  a  first  edition  is  gene- 
rally the  least  valuable,  and  only  to  be  considered  as  an 
imperfect  essay,  which  the  author  proposes  to  finish  afler 
he  has  tried  the  sentimmts  of  the  literary  world. 
Bayle  approves  of  Ancillon*s  plan.  Those  who  wait 
calmly  for  a  book,  says  he,  till  it  is  reprinted,  show  plainly 
that  tney  are  resigned  to  their  ignorance,  and  prefer  the 
saving  of  a  pistole  to  the  acquisition  of  useful  knowledge. 
With  one  of  theso  persons,  who  waited  for  a  second  edi- 

*  An  allusion  and  pun  which  occasioned  the  French  trans* 
lator  of  the  present  work  an  unlucky  blunder:  puzzled  no 
doubt  by  my  facetiousness,  he  translates  *  mettant  com  mo  on 
I'a  tres'jurlicieusement  fait  observer,  1-entendement  huraaln 
sous  la  Clef.*  The  book,  and  the  author  alluded  to,  quite 
escaped  him. 

tion,  which  never  appeared,  a  literary  man  argued,  tliat 
it  was  much  better  to  have  two  editions  of  a  book  than  to 
deprive  himself  of  the  advantage  which  the  reading  of  tho 
first  might  procure  him ;  and  it  was  a  bad  economy  to 

E refer  a  few  crowns  to  that  advantage.     It  has  frequently 
appened,  besides,  that  in  second  editions,  the  author 
omits,  as  well  as  adds,  or  makes  alt  era tiona/rom  prudential 
reasons ;  the  displeasing  truths  which  he  corrects,  as  be 
might  call  them,  are  ko  many  losses  incurred  by  Truth 
itself.     There  is  an  advantage  in  comparing  the  first  with 
subsequent  editions ;  for  among  other  things,  we  feel  great 
satisfaction  in  tracing  the  variations  of  a  work,  when  a  man 
of  genius  has  revised  it.     There  are  also  other  secrets, 
well  known  to  the  intelligent  curious,  who  are  versed  in 
affairs  relating  to  books.  Many  first  editions  are  not  to  be 
purchased  for  the  treble  value  of  later  ones.    Let  no  lover 
of  books  be  too  hastily  censured  for  his  passion,  which,  if 
he  indulges  with  judgment,  is  useful.     The  collector  we 
have  noticed  frequently  said,  as  is  related  of  Virgil, '  I  col- 
lect gold  from  Ennius's  dung.*    I  find,  added  he,  m  some 
neglected  authors,  particular  things,  not  elsewhere  to  be 
found.    He  read  them,  indeed,  not  with  equal  attention, 
but  many,  <  Sicut  canis  ad  Nilum  bibens  etJugienSf  like  a 
dog  at  tho  Nile,  drinking  and  running. 

Fortunate  are  those  who  only  consider  a  book  for  the 
utility  and  pleasure  they  may  derive  from  its  possession. 
Those  students,  who,  though  they  know  much,  still  thirst 
to  know  more,  may  require  this  vast  sea  of  books;  yet  in 
that  sea  they  may  suffer  many  shipwrecks.  Great  collec- 
tions of  books  are  subject  to  certain  accidents  besides  the 
damp,  the  worms,  and  the  rats;  one  not  less  common  is 
that  of  the  borrowers,  not  to  say  a  word  of  the  purloinera. 


When  writers  were  not  numerous,  and  readers  rare,  the 
unsuccessful  author  fell  insensibly  into  oblivion ;  he  dis- 
solved away  in  his  own  weakness  ;  if  he  committed  the 
private  folly  of  printing  what  no  one  would  purchase,  he 
was  not  arraigned  at  the  public  tribuna^and  the  awful 
terrors  of  his  day  of  judgment  consisted  only  in  the  retri- 
butions of  his  publisher's  final  accounts.  At  length,  a 
taste  for  literature  spread  through  the  body  of  the  people, 
vanity  induced  tJie  inexperienced  and  the  i&norant  to  as- 
pire to  literary  honours.  To  oppose  these  forcible  entries 
into  tho  haunts  of  the  Muses,  periodical  criticism  brand- 
ished its  formidable  weapon ;  and  the  fall  of  many,  taught 
some  of  our  greatest  geniuses  to  rise.  Multifarious  writ- 
ings produced  multifarious  strictures,  and  public  criticism 
reached  to  such  perfection,  that  taste  was  generally  diffus- 
ed, enlightening  those  whose  occupations  had  otherwiae 
never  permitted  them  to  judge  of  literary  compositions. 

The  invention  of  Reviews,  in  tho  form  which  they  have 
at  length  gradually  assumed,  could  not  have  existeo  but  in 
the  most  polished  ages  of  literature;  for  without  a  con- 
stant supply  of  authoric,  and  a  refined  spirit  of  criticism, 
they  could  not  excite  a  perpetual  interest  among  the  loveni 
of  literature.  These  publications  are  the  chronicles  of 
taiitc  and  science,  and  present  the  existing  state  of  the 
public  mind,  while  they  form  a  ready  resource  for  those 
idle  hours,  which  men  of  letters  do  not  choose  to  pass  idly. 

Their  multiplicity  has  undoubtedly  produced  much  evil ; 
puerile  critics,  and  venal  drudges,  manufacture  reviews : 
nence  that  shameful  discordnnco  of  opinion,  which  is  the 
scorn  and  scandal  of  criticism.  Passions  hostile  to  the 
peaceful  truths  of  literature  have  likewise  made  tremend- 
ous inroads  in  the  republic,  and  every  literary  virtue  haa 
been  lost!  In  *  Calamities  of  Authors,'  I  have  given  the 
history  of  a  literary  conspiracy,  conducted  by  a  solitary 
critic  Gilbert  Stuart,  against  the  historian  Henry. 

These  works  may  disgust  by  vapid  panegyric,  or  gron 
invective;  weary  by  uniform  dulncssii,  or  tantalize  by  super- 
ficial knowledge.  Sometimes  merely  written  to  catch  the 
public  attention,  a  malignity  is  indulged  against  authors, 
to  season  the  caustic  leaves.  A  reviewer  has  admired 
those  works  in  private,  which  he  has  condemned  in  his  of> 
ficial  capacity.  But  good  sense,  good  temper,  and  good 
taste,  will  ever  form  ah  estimable  journalist,  who  will  in- 
spire confidence,  and  give  stability  to  his  decisions. 

To  the  lovers  of  literature  these  volumes  when  they  have 
outlived  their  year,  are  not  unimportant.  They  constitute 
a  great  portion  of  literary  history,  and  are  indeed  tho  an- 
nals of  the  republic. 

To  our  own  reviews,  we  must  add  the  old  foreign  jour- 
nals, which  are  perhaps  even  more  valuable  to  the  man  of 
letters.     Of  these  the  variety  is  considerable;  and  many 


of  their  writere  are  now  known.  Tbey  deUsht  oar  corioo- 
tj  by  opening  new  riews,  and  light  op  in  oMerring  minds 
■MBj  pnijects  of  worki,  wmnted  in  our  own  liieratnre. 
Gibbon  feasted  on  them ;  and  while  be  tamed  them  orer 
with  constant  pleasure,  derived  accurate  notions  of  worics, 
wbidi  no  student  can  himself  have  verified :  of  many  worin 
a  notion  is  sufficient,  bat  this  notion  is  necessary. 

The  oricm  of  so  many  literary  joamals  was  the  happy 
pro^t  of  Denis  de  Sallo,  a  counsellor  in  the  parliament  of 
Paris.    In  1665  appeared  his  Journal  dm  SqavanM.    He 
pabtiriied  his  essay  in  the  name  of  the  Sieur  de  Hedoo- 
ville,  his  footman !   Was  this  a  mere  stroke  of  bumoor,  or 
deuAed  to  insinuate  that  the  freedom  of  his  criticism 
eoukl  only  be  allowed  to  his  footman  ?    The  work,  how- 
ever, met  with  so  favourable  a  reception,  that  Sallo  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  it,  the  following  year,  imitated 
throaghout  Europe,  and  ms  journal,  at  the  same  time, 
translated  into  variom  languages.    But  as  most  authors 
ay  themselves  open  to  an  acute  critic,  the  animadvenioas 
or  Sallo  were  given  with  such  asperity  of  criticism,  and 
such  malignitv  of  wit,  that  this  new  journal  excited  load 
murmurs,  ana  the  most  heart-moving  complaints.    The 
learned  had  their  plagiarisms  detected,  and  tne  wit  had  his 
daims  disputed.    Sarasin  called  the  gazettes  of  this  new 
Artstardios,  Hebdomadary  Flams !    BiUevezeea  hebdomm- 
dariet!  and  Menage,  having  published  a  law-book,  which 
Sallo  had  treated  with  severe  raillery,  he  entered  into  a 
long  argument  to  prove,  according  to  Justinian,  that  a  law- 
yer is  not  allowed  to  defame  another  lawyer,  sc.    Seno' 
tan  maUiSeere  nan  licet,  reutaiedieerejtuJaaijueetL  Others 
loodly  declaimed  against  this  new  species  of  imperial  ty- 
ranny, and  this  attempt  to  regulate  the  public  opinion  by 
that  of  an  individual.     Sallo,  after  having  published  only 
his  ihiid  volume,  felt  the  irritated  wasps  of  literature 
thronpng  so  thick  aboot  him,  that  he  very  gladly  abdicated 
the  throne  of  criticism.    The  journal  is  said  to  have  suf- 
fered a  short  interruption  by  a  remonstrance  from  the 
nuncio  of  the  pope,  for  the  energy  with  which  Sallo  had 
defended  the  Uberties  of  the  Gallican  church. 

Intimidated  by  the  fate  of  Sallo,  his  successor,  Abb6 
Qalk>is.  flourished  in  a  milder  reign.  He  contented  him- 
self with  giving  the  titles  of  books,  accompanied  wiih  ex- 
tracts; ani  he  was  more  useful  than  interesting.  The 
public,  who  bad  been  so  much  amused  by  the  raillery  and 
severity  of  the  founder  of  this  dynasty  of  new  critics,  now 
murmured  at  the  want  of  that  salt  and  acidity  by  which 
they  had  relished  the  fugitive  collation.  They  were  not 
satisfied  in  having  the  most  beautiful,  or  the  most  curious 
parts  of  a  new  work  brought  together ;  they  wished  for  the 
unreasonable  entertainment  of  railing  and  raiilery.  At 
length  another  objection  was  conjured  up  againcl  the  re- 
new; mathematicians  complained  they  were  neglected 
to  make  room  for  experiments  in  natural  philosophy ;  the 
historian  sickened  over  the  works  of  natural  history ;  the 
antiquaries  would  have  nothing  but  discoveries  of  Mss,  or 
fragments  of  antiquity.  Medical  works  were  called  (or 
by  one  party  and  reprobated  by  another.  In  a  word,  each 
reader  wished  only  to  have  accounts  of  books  which  were 
interesthig  to  bis  profession  or  his  taste.  But  a  review  is  a 
wofk  presented  to  the  public  at  larse,  and  written  forinore 
than  one  country.  In  spite  of  all  these  difficulties,  this 
work  was  carried  to  a  vast  extent.  An  isuiisr  to  the 
Journal  dtt  Sqavana  has  been  arranged  on  a  critical  plan, 
occupying  ten  volumes  in  quarto,  which  may  be  consider- 
ed as  a  roost  useful  instrument  to  obtain  the  science  and 
literature  of  the  entire  century. 

The  next  celebrated  reviewer  is  Bayle,  who  imdertook, 
in  1684,  his  NauvdUt  dt  la  RepubHque  de»  Lettret.  He 
possessed  ibc  art,  acquired  by  habit,  of  reading  a  book  by 
his  fingers,  as  it  has  been  happily  expressed;  and  of  com- 
prising, in  concise  extracts,  a  just  notion  of  a  book,  with- 
out the  addition  of  irrelevant  matter.  He  had  for  bis  day 
sufficient  playfulness  to  wreathe  the  rod  of  criticism  with 
roses  ;  and,  for  the  first  time,  the  ladies  and  all  the  beau 
manJa  took  an  interest  in  the  labours  of  the  critic.  Tet 
even  Bayle,  who  declared  himself  a  reporter  and  not  a 
judge,  tiayle  the  discreet  sceptic,  could  not  long  satisfy  his 
readers.  His  panegyric  was  thought  somewhat  prodigal ; 
his  fluency  of  style  somewhat  too  familiar;  and  others  af* 
fected  not  to  relnb  his  gayety.  In  his  latter  volumes,  to  still 
the  damoor,  be  assmned  the  eold  sobrietv  of  an  historian : 
and  has  beqaeathed  no  mean  legacy  to  the  literary  world, 
in  lhir^-«iz  small  vokimes  of  criticism,  closed  in  1687. 
Theta  were  continued  by  Bernard,  with  inferior  skill :  and 

by  Baanage  more  successfully  in  hiMHuioindea  Onr^gas 
iua  Sgavana, 

T\^  contemporary  and  the  antagonist  of  Bayle  was  Le 
Clerc.  His  firm  industry  has  produced  three  JmbSathequa 
—  UnweneOeti  Hiatonaue  —  Chmma — and  jindatne  H 
Jlfodeme,  forming  in  all  82  volumes,  which,  complete,  hear 
a  very  high  price.  Inferior  to  Bayle  in  the  more  pleasing 
talents,  he  is  perhaps  superior  in  erudition,  ana  shows 

Xeat  skill  in  analysis :  but  bis  hand  drops  no  flowers ! 
postolo  Zeno's  Giomale  de  UUerati  d'ltaUa.fiom  1710 
to  17SS,  is  valuable.  Gibbon  resorted  to  Le  Clerc's 
volumes  at  his  leisure,  *  as  an  inexhaustible  source  of 
amusement  and  instruction.' 

Beausobre  and  L'Enfant,  two  learned  Prote8tants,wrole 
a  Bibliotiuque  Gtrmamjne,  from  1720  to  1740,  in  50  vols. ;  . 
our  own  literature  is  interested  by  the  BibUotheque  BrUatt^ 
mipta ;  written  by  some  literary  Frenchmen,  noticed  by 
La  Croze  in  hb  *  Voyage  Litteraire,'  who  designates  the 
writers  in  this  most  tantalizing  manner :  *  Les  auteurs  sont 
gens  de  merite  et  que  entenaent  tous  parfaitement  I'An* 
glois ;  Messrs  S.  B.  le  M.  D.  ei  le  savant  Mr  D.*  Poa- 
terity  has  been  partially  let  into  the  secret ;  De  Missy  was 
one  of  the  contributors,  and  Warburton  communicated  hn 
project  of  an  edition  of  Gelleius  Paterculus.  This  useful 
account  of  only  English  books  begins  in  17SS,  and  closes 
at  1747,  Hague,  23  vols. ;  to  this  we  must  add  the  Joumai 
BritanrnqtUf  in  18  volumes,  by  Dr  Maty,  a  foreign  phy- 
sician residing  in  London ;  this  joumai  exhibits  a  view  of 
the  state  of  EngUsh  Uterature  from  1750  to  1755.  Gibbon 
bestows  a  high  character  on  the  journalist,  who  sometimes 
'  aspires  to  the  character  of  a  poet  and  a  philosopher ;  one 
of  tne  last  disciples  of  the  school  of  Fontenelle.* 

Maty's  son  produced  here  a  review  known  to  the  cari- 
ous ;  his  style  and  decisions  often  discover  haste  and  heat, 
with  some  striking  ob9ervati<ms :  alluding  to  his  father, 
Maty,  in  his  motto,  applies  Virgil's  descripUon  of  the  young 
Ascanius,  *  Sequitur  patrem  non  passibus  cquisr'  He  says 
he  only  holds  a  monthly  eonctrsatian  with  the  public  ;  but 
criticism  demands  more  maturity  of  reflection  and  more 
terseness  of  style.  In  his  obstinate  resoluticn  of  carrying 
on  this  review  without  an  associate,  he  has  shown  its  folly 
and  its  danger ;  for  a  fatal  illness  produced  a  cessation,  at 
once,  of  his  periodical  labours  and  his  life. 

Other  reviews,  are  the  Memoirta  da  TVevoiw,  written 
by  the  Jesuits.  Their  caustic  censure  and  vtvacitv  of 
style  made  them  redoubtable  in  their  day ;  they  dio  not 
even  spare  their  brothers.  The  Jvanud  iMamrt^  printed 
at  the  Hague,  and  chiefly  composed  bv  Prosper  March- 
and,  Sallengre,  Van  Effen,  who  were  tfien  young  writers. 
This  list  may  be  augmented  by  other  journals,  whida 
sometimes  merit  preservation  in  the  history  of  modem 

Our  eariv  English  journals  notice  only  a  few  publica- 
tions, with  but  little  acumen.    Of  these,  the  *  Memoirs  of 
Literature,'  and  the  *■  Present  State  of  the  Republic  of 
Letters,'  are  the  best.    The  Monthly  Review,  the  vene- 
rable mother  of  our  journals,  commenced  in  1749. 

It  is  impossible  to  form  a  literary  journal  in  a  manner 
such  as  might  be  wished ;  it  must  be  the  work  of  many  of 
different  tempers  and  talents.  An  individual,  however 
versatile  and  extensive  his  genius,  would  soon  be  exhaust- 
ed Such  a  regular  labour  occasioned  Bayle  a  dangerous 
illnen,  and  Maty  fell  a  victim  to  his  review.  A  prospect 
always  extending  as  we  proceed,  the  frequent  novelty  of 
the  matter,  the  pride  of  considerint!  one's  self  as  the  arbi- 
ter of  literature,  animate  a  journalist  at  the  commencement 
i  of  his  career ;  but  the  literary  Hercules  becomes  fatigued ; 
and  to  supply  his  craring  pages  he  gives  copious  extracts, 
till  the  joumai  becomes  tedious,  or  fails  in  variety.  Abb^ 
Gallnis  was  frequently  diverted  from  continuing  his  journal, 
and  Fontenelle  remarks,  that  this  occupation  was  too  re- 
strictive for  a  mind  so  extensive  as  his  ;  ihe  Abb^  could 
not  resist  the  charms  of  revelling  in  a  new  work,  and  gra- 
tifying any  sudden  curiosity  which  seized  him ;  which  in- 
terrupted perpetually  that  regularity  the  public  expects 
from  a  ioomalist. 

To  describe  the  chsracter  of  a  perfect  journalist,  would 
be  only  an  ideal  portrait !  There  are  however  some  ac- 
quirements which  are  indispensable.  He  must  be  tolerably 
acquainted  with  the  subjects  he  treats  on ;  no  eomman 
acquirement !  He  must  pos«ees  the  lUerary  hiatory  of  his 
otm  thneM  !  a  science  which  Fontenelle  obierres,  is  almost 
j  di«linet  from  anv  other.  It  is  the  result  of  an  active  curi- 
I  o<itv,  which  leads  u*  to  take  a  lir^lv  interest  in  the  tasted 


nd  panuitt  of  th«  ase,  while  it  tarei  the  journalist  from 
■ome  ridiculous  blunders.  We  ofcen  see  the  mind  of  a  re- 
viewer half  a  century  remote  from  the  work  reviewed.  A 
fine  feeling,  of  the  various  manners  of  writers,  with  a 
style,  adapted  to  fix  the  attention  of  the  indigent,  and  to 
win  the  untractaUe ;  but  candour  is  the  brifthest  gem  of 
criticism !  He  oucht  not  to  throw  every  thing  into  the 
crucible,  n<Hr  should  he  suffer  the  whole  to  pass  as  if  he 
trembled  to  touch  it.  Lampoons,  and  satires,  in  time  will 
.ose  their  effect,  as  well  as  panegyrics.  He  must  learn 
to  resist  the  seductions  of  his  own  pen ;  the  pretensions  of 
eompoeing  a  treatise  on  the  aubjeel,  rather  than  on  the 
hook  ho  cntieises,  proud  of  insinuating  that  he  gives  in  a 
ooxen  pages,  wtuUthe  author  himself  has  not  been  able 
to  perform  in  his  volumes.  Should  he  gain  confidence  by 
a  popular  delusion  and  by  unworthy  conduct,  he  may 
chSince  to  be  mortified  by  the  pardon  or  the  chastisement 
of  insulted  genius.  The  most  noble  criticism  is  that,  in 
which  the  critic  is  not  the  antagonist  so  much  as  the  rival 
of  the  author. 


Our  andent  classics  had  a  very  narrow  escape  from  to- 
tal annihilation.  Many,  we  know,  have  perisned :  many 
we  possess  are  but  fragments ;  and  chance,  blind  arbiter 
of  the  works  of  senius, lias  given  us  some,  not  of  the  high- 
est value :  which,  however,  nave  proved  very  useful,  serv- 
ing as  a  test  to  show  the  pedantry  of  those  who  adore  an- 
tiquity not  from  true  feeling  but  from  traditional  prejudice. 

One  reason,  writes  the  learned  compiler  JL*E»^rit  det 
Ootfodes,  why  we  have  lost  a  great  number  of  ancient  au- 
thors, was  the  conquest  of  Egypt  by  the  Saracens,  which 
deprived  Europe  of  the  use  or  the  papyrua.  The  igno- 
rance of  that  age  could  find  no  substitute ;  they  knew  no 
other  expedient  but  writing  on  parchment,  which  became 
every  day  more  scarce  ana  costly.  Ignorance  and  barba- 
rism unfortunately  seized  on  Roman  manuscripts,  and  in- 
dustriously defaced  pages  once  imagined  to  have  been 
immortal  f  The  most  elegant  compositions  of  classic  Rome 
were  converted  into  ihepsalms  of  a  breviary,  or  the  prayers 
of  a  misial.  Livy  and  Tacitus  'hide  their  diminisheo  heads* 
to  preserve  the  legend  of  a  saint,  and  immortal  truths  were 
converted  into  clumsy  fictions.  It  happened  that  the  most 
voluminous  authors  were  the  greatest  sufferers;  these 
were  preferred,  because  their  voiume  being  the  greatest, 
it  most  profitably  repaid  their  destroying  industry,  and  fur- 
nished ampler  scope  for  future  transcription.  A  Livy  or  a 
Diodorus  was  preferred  to  the  smaller  works  of  Cicero  or 
Horace :  and  it  is  to  this  circumstance  that  Juvenal,  Per^ 
sius,  and  Martial  have  come  down  to  us  entire,  rather  pro- 
bably than  to  these  pious  personages  preferring  their  ob- 
scemtJes,  as  some  have  accused  them.  Not  long  ago  at 
Rome,  a  part  of  a  book  of  Livy  was  found,  between  the 
lines  cf  a  parchment  but  half  enaced,  on  which  they  sub- 
stituted a  book  of  the  Bible. 

That,  however,  the  monks  had  not  in  high  veneration 
the  vrofatu  authors,  appears  by  a  facetious  anecdote.  To 
reaa  the  classics  was  considered  as  a  very  idle  recreation, 
and  some  heU  them  in  great  horror.  To  distinguish  them 
from  other  books,  they  mvented  a  disgraceful  sign :  when 
a  monk  asked  for  a  pa|^  author,  after  making  the  gene- 
ral sign  they  used  in  their  manual  and  silent  language  when 
they  wanted  a  book,  he  added  a  particular  one  which  con- 
sisted in  scratching  under  his  ear,  as  a  dog.  which  feels  an 
itching,  scratches  himself  in  that  |>laoe  with  his  paw— be- 
cause, said  they,  an  unbeliever  is  compared  to  a  dog ! 
In  this  manner  they  expressed  an  adung  for  those  dog%, 
Viml  or  Horace ! 

There  have  been  ages  when  for  the  possession  of  a 
manuscri^  some  would  transfer  an  estate ;  wr  leave  in 
pawn  (or  its  loan  hundreds  of  golden  crowns ;  and  when 
even  the  sale  or  loan  of  a  manuscript  was  considered  of 
such  importance  as  to  have  been  solemnly  registered  in 
public  acts.  Absolute  as  was  Louis  XI«  he  could  not  ob- 
tain the  MS  of  Rasis,  an  Arabian  writer,  to  make  a  copy, 
from  the  library  of  the  faculty  of  Paris,  without  pledging  a 
hundred  goUen  crowns ;  and  the  president  of  his  treasury, 
charged  with  this  commission,  .sold  part  of  his  plate  to 
make  the  deposit.  For  the  loan  of  a  volume  <^  Avicenna, 
a  baron  offered  a  pledge  often  mariis  of  silver,  which  was 
tefused :  because  it  was  not  considered  equal  to  the  risk 
iBcurred  of  losing  a  volume  of  Avicenna !  These  events 
occurred  m  1471.  One  cannot  but  smile  at  an  anterior 
period,  when  a  countess  of  Anjou  bought  a  favourite  book 
of  homilies,  for  two  hundred  sheep,  some  skins  of  martins, 
an  I  bushels  of  wheat  and  rys. 

In  these  times,  manuscripts  were  important  articles  of 
commerce ;  they  were  excessively  scarce,  and  preserved 
with  the  utmost  care.  Usurers  themselves  considered 
them  as  precious  objects  for  pawn ;  a  student  of  Pavia* 
who  was  reduced  by  his  debaucheries,  raised  a  new  for- 
tune by  leaving  in  pawn  a  manuscript  of  a  body  of  law; 
and  a  grammarian,  who  was  ruined  by  a  fire,  rebuilt  his 
house  with  two  small  volumes  of  Cicero. 

At  the  restoration  of  letters,  the  researches  of  literary 
men  were  chiefly  directed  to  this  point ;  every  part  of  Eu- 
rope and  Greece  was  ransacked,  and  the  glorious  end  con- 
sidered|  there  was  something  sublime  in  this  humble  indus- 
try, which  oflen  produced  a  lost  author  of  antiquity,  and 
gave  one  more  cisjsic  to  the  world.  This  occupation  was 
carried  on  with  enthusiasm,  and  a  kind  of  mania  possessed 
many  who  exhausted  their  fortunes  in  distant  voyages, 
and  profuse  prices.  In  reading  the  correspondence  ol  the 
learned  Italians  of  these  times,  much  of  which  has  descend- 
ed to  us,  their  adventures  of  manuscript^hunting  are  very 
amusing,  and  their  raptures,  their  congratulations,  or  at 
times  tneir  condolence,  and  even  their  censures,  are  all 
immoderate  and  excessive.  The  acquisition  of  a  province 
would  not  have  given  so  much  satisfaction  as  the  oiscovery 
of  an  author  little  known,  or  not  known  at  all.  '  Oh,  great 
gain !  Oh,  unexpected  felicity !  I  intreat  you  my  Poggio, 
send  me  the  manuscript  as  soon  as  possiole,  that  I  may 
see  it  before  I  die  !*  exclaims  Aretino,  in  a  letter  overflow- 
ing with  enthusiasm,  on  Poggio's  discovery  of  a  copy  of 
duintilian.  Some  of  the  halfwitted,  who  joined  in  this 
great  hunt,  were  often  thrown  out,  and  some  paid  high  for 
manuscripts  not  authentic ;  the  knave  played  on  the  bung- 
ling amateur  of  manuscripts,  whose  credulity  was  greater 
than  his  purse.  But  even  among  the  learned,  much  ill 
blood  was  inflamed  :  he  who  had  Men  most  successful  in 
acquiring  manuscriptawas  enried  by  the  less  fortunate,  and 
the  glory  of  possessing  a  manuscript  of  Cicero,  seemed 
to  approximate  to  that  of  lieing  its  author.  It  is  curious  to 
observe  that  in  these  vast  importations  into  Italy  of  manu- 
scripts from  Asia,  John  Aunspa,  who  brought  many  hun- 
dreds of  Greek  manuscripts,  laments  that  he  had  chosen 
more  profane  than  sacred  writers ;  which  circumstance  he 
tells  us  was  owing  to  the  Gredis,  who  would  not  so  easily 
part  with  thedogical  works,  but  Uiey  did  not  highly  valuo 
profane  writers ! 

These  manuscripts  were  discovered  in  the  obscurest  re- 
cesses of  monastenes ;  they  were  not  always  imprisoned 
in  libraries,  but  rotting  in  ouivion :  in  darii  unfrequented 
comers  with  rubbbh.  It  required  no  less  ingenuity  to  find 
out  places  where  to  examine^  than  to  understand  tne  value 
of  the  acquisition,  when  obtained.  An  universal  ijgnorance 
then  prevailed  in  the  knowledge  of  ancient  writers.  A 
scholar  of  those  times  gave  the  first  rank  among  the  Latin 
writers  to  one  Valerius,  whether  he  meant  Martial  or 
Maximus  is  uncertain ;  he  placed  Plato  and  Tully  among 
the  poets,  and  imagined  that  Ennius  and  Statius  were 
contemporaries.  A  library  of  six  hundred  v<4umes  was 
then  considered  as  an  extraiordinary  collecticm. 

Among  those  whose  Uves  were  devoted  to  this  purpose, 
Poggio  the  Florentine  stands  distinguished ;  but  he  com- 
plams  that  his  seal  was  not  assistM  by  the  great.  He 
found  under  a  heap  of  rubbtsh  in  a  decayed  coffer,  in  a 
tower  belonging  to  the  monastery  of  St  Gallo,  the  work  of 
duintilian.  He  is  indignant  at  its  forlorn  situation ;  at 
least,  he  cries,  it  should  have  been  preserved  in  the  libnry 
of  the  monks ;  but  I  found  it  in  tettnimo  quodam  el  oUeun 
careen  and  to  his  great  joy  drew  it  out  of  its  grave !  The 
monks  have  been  complimented  as  the  preservers  of  lite- 
rature, but  by  facts  like  the  present,  their  real  affection 
may  be  doubted. 

The  'most  valuable  copy  of  Tacitus,  of  whom  so  much 
is  wanting,  was  likewise  discovered  in  a  monastery  of 
Westphaua.  It  is  a  curious  drcomstance  in  literary  his- 
tory, that  we  should  owe  Tacitus  to  this  single  copy ;  for 
the  Roman  emperor  of  that  name  had  copies  of  the  works 
of  his  illustrious  ancestor  placed  in  all  the  libraries  of  th« 
empire,  and  every  year  had  ten  copies  transcribed ;  but 
the  Roman  libraries  seem  to  have  been  all  destroyed,  and 
the  imperial  protection  availed  nothing  against  the  teeth 
of  time. 

The  original  manuscript  of  Justinian's  code  was  dis- 
covered by  the  Pisans,  aoctdentally,  when  they  took  a  city 
in  Calabna;  that  vast  code  of  laws  had  been  in  a  mannsr 
unknown  from  the  time  of  that  emperor.  This  curioos 
book  was  brought  to  Pisa,  and  when  Pisa  was  taken  by 
the  Florentines,  was  transferred  to  Floroaco,  whore  it  li 
still  preserrsd. 



It  sometimes  happened  that  manuscripts  were  discorer- 
ed  in  the  last  agonies  of  existence.  Papirios  Masson 
floond,  in  the  hoose  of  a  book-binder  of  Lyons,  the  worlcs 
of  Aft^iart ;  the  mechanic  was  on  the  point  of  using  the 
manuscripts  to  line  the  covers  of  his  books.  A  page  of 
the  second  decade  of  Livy  it  n  said  was  found  hj  a  man  of 
letters  in  the  parchment  of  bis  battledore,  whde  he  was 
amusing  himself  in  the  country.  He  hastened  to  the  maker 
of  the  batdedore— but  arrived  too  late !  The  man  had 
foiished  the  last  page  of  Liry— about  a  week  before ! 

Many  works  have  undoubtedly  perished  in  this  manu- 
script state.  By  a  petition  of  Dr  Dee  to  Q,oeen  Mary,  in 
the  Cott<m  library,  it  appears  that  Cicero's  treatise  de  JR^ 
pubUca  was  once  extant  in  this  country.  Huet  observes 
that  Petronius  was  probably  entire  in  the  days  of  John  of 
Salisbury,  who  ouotes  fragments,  not  now  to  be  found  in 
the  remains  of  the  Roman  bard.  Raimond  Skramo,  a 
lawyer  in  the  papal  court,  possessed  two  books  of  Cicero 
on  Glory,  which  he  presented  to  Petrarch,  who  lent  them 
to  a  poor  aged  roan  of  letters,  formerly  his  preceptor. 
Urged  by  extreme  want,  the  old  man  pawned  them,  and 
returning  home  died  suddenly  without  having  revealed 
where  he  had  Ie(Y  them.  They  have  never  been  recovered. 
Petrarch  speaks  of  them  with  ecstasy,  and  tells  us  that  he 
had  studied  them  perpetually.  Two  centuries  afterwards 
this  treatise  on  Giory  by  Cicero  was  mentioaed  in  a  cata- 
k^e  of  books  bequeathed  to  a  monastery  of  nuns,  but 
when  inquired  after  was  missing;  it  was  supposed  that 
Petnis  Alcyonius,  phvsician  to  that  househdd,  purloined 
it,  and  after  transcribing  as  much  of  it  as  he  could  into  his 
own  writines,  had  destroyed  the  original.  Alcyonius  in  his 
book  de  EriliOf  the  critics  observed,  had  many  splendid 
passages  which  stood  isolated  in  his  work,  and  were  auite 
above" his  genius.  The  beegar,  or  in  this  case  the  tnief, 
was  detected  by  mending  his  rags  with  patches  of  purple 
and  gold. 

In  this  age  of  manuscript,  there  is  reason  to  believe,  that 

when  a  man  of  letters  accidentally  obtained  an  unknown 

work,  he  did  not  make  the  fairest  use  of  it,  and  cautiously 

concealed  it  from  his  contemporaries.    Leonard  Aretino, 

a  distinguished  scholar  at  the  dawn  of  modem  titerature, 

havine  found  a  Greek  manuscript  of  Procopius  de  BeUo 

CtotJaeOf  translated  it  into  Latin,  and  published  the  work, 

but  concealing  the  author's  name,  it  passed  as  his  own,  till 

another  manuscript  of  the  same  work  being  du?  out  of  its 

grave,  the  fraud  of  Aretuio  was  apparent.    Barbova,  a 

bishop  of  Ueonto,  in  1649,  has  printed  amon*  his  works  a 

treatise,  which,  it  is  said,  he  obtained  by  having  perceived 

one  of  his  domestics  brin^ins  in  a  fish  rolled  in  a  leaf  of 

written  paper,  which  his  curiosity  led  him  to  examine. 

Be  was  sufficiently  interested  to  run  out  and  search  the 

fish  market,  till  he  found  the  manuscript  out  of  which  it 

bad  been  torn.     He  published  it  under  the  title  de  Officio 

EjMoojA.     Machiavclli  abted  more  adroitly  in  a  similar 

case;  a  manuscript  of  the  Apophthegms  of  the  ancients 

by  Plutarch  having  fallen  into  his  hands,  he  selected  those 

which  pleased  him  the  best,  and  put  them  into  the  mouth 

of  his  hero  Castrucio  Castricani. 

In  man  recent  times,  we  might  collect  many  curious 
anecdotes  concerning  manuscripts.  Sir  Robert  Cotton 
one  day  at  his  tailor's,  discovered  that  the  man  was  hold- 
ing in  his  hand,  ready  to  cut  up  for  measures— an  orignal 
Magna  Charta,  with'aO  its  appenda|;es  of  seals  and  sig- 
natures.  He  bought  the  singular  curiosity  for  a  trifle,  and 
recovered  in  this  manner  what  had  long  been  given  over 
for  lost!  This  anecdote  is  told  by  Colomi^s,  who  long  re- 
aided,  and  died  in  this  country.  An  original  Maena  Charta 
is  preserved  in  the  Coltonian  library ;  it  exhibits  marks 
of  dilapidation,  but  whether  from  the  invisible  scythe  of 
bme,  or  the  humble  scissors  of  a  tailor,  I  leave  to  archaw- 

^^^Tardinal  Granvelle  carefully  preserved^  his  letters; 
he  left  behind  him  several  chests  filled  with  a  prodigioM 
ouantitv.  wriUen  in  diflferent  languages,  commented,  noted, 
ind  uiiler4ined  by  his  own  hand.  These  cunous  mano- 
scripts,  after  his  death,  were  left  ra  a  garret  to  themercy 
Jf  the  rain  and  the  rats.  Five  or  s«  of  hese  chests  the 
Seward  sold  to  the  grocers.  It  was  then  that  a  discoven^ 
5^do  of  this  UeSsure:    Several  learned  men  occupied 

A^nSves  in  collecting  as  many  ^ '^^J'^'^'^X^^ 
•ul!rX»«ikIv  could      What  were  saved  formed  eighty 

;5;:^U.  S^L.  fcr  ««b.-«J<«.  «Kl  m.ny  oth« 

Recently  a  vahiiJile  secret  hiilory  by  Sir  Geor^  Blao- 
kenxie,  the  kiiw's  advocate  in  ScottaiiOi  has  been  reacned 
firom  a  mass  of  waste  paper  soM  to  a  grocer,  who  had  the 
good  sense  to  discriminate  it,  and  communicate  this  cori- 
ous  memorial  to  Dr  M*Crie ;  the  original,  in  the  hand- 
writing of  its  author,  has  been  depositM  in  the  advocates^ 
U>rary.  There  is  an  hialns,  which  contained  the  hiMory 
of  six  years.  This  work  excited  inquiry  after  the  rest  oif 
the  Msa,  which  were  fimnd  to  be  nothing  more  than  the 
■weepings  of  an  attorney's  oflice. 

Montaigne's  journal  of  hia  travda  into  Italy  have  bees 
but  recently  published.  A  prebendary  of  Pengord,  travel 
ling  througn  this  province  to  make  researches  relatiye  lo  in 
history,  arrived  at  the  ancient  duUtm  of .~~ 

on  of  a  descendant  of  this  great  man.  He  inocirad 
Tor  the  ardiives,  if  there  had  been  any.  He  was  boowb 
an  oM  worm-eaten  coffer,  which  had  long  held  papeia  v^ 
touched  by  the  incurious  genermtions  of  Mosiiaigne.  The 
prebendary,  with  philoeopbical  intrepidity,  stifled  hioMelf 
m  clouds  of  dust,  and  at  length  drew  out  the  original  manu- 
script of  the  travels  of  Montaigne.  Two  thirds  of  the 
work  are  in  the  hand-writing  of  Montai^e,  and  the  rest 
is  written  l^  a  servant  who  served  as  his  secretary,  and 
who  always  speaks  of  his  master  in  the  third  penon.  Bat 
ha  must  have  written  what  Montaigne  dictated,  as  the  ex- 
pressions and  the  egotisms  are  all  Montaigne's.  The  bad 
writing  and  orthography  made  it  almost  unintelli|pb)e.  It 
proves  also,  says  the  editor,  how  true  is  Montaigne's  ob- 
servation, that  he  was  very  negligent  in  the  corrrectioB  of 
his  works. 

Our  ancestors  were  great  hiders  of  manuscripts ;  Dr 
Dee's  singular  mss  were  found  in  the  secret  drawer  of  a 
diest,  which  had  passed  through  many  hands  undisco- 
vered ;  and  that  vast  collection  of  state-papers  of  Tburioe's 
the  secretary  of  Cromwell,  which  formed  about  seventy 
volumes  m  the  original  manuscripts,  accidentally  fell  out 
of  the  false  ceiling  of  some  chambers  in  Lincoln's-Inn. 

A  considerable  portion  of  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Mon- 
tagu's letters  I  discovered  in  the  hands  of  an  attorney. 
There  are  now  many  valuable  manuscripts  in  the  famuy 
papers  of  the  descendants  of  celebrated  peivona ;  but  noe- 
thumous  publications  of  this  kind  are  usually  made  nom 
the  roost  sordid  motives :  discernment,  and  taste,  would 
only  be  detrimental  to  the  views  of  bulky  puUtshers. 


It  may  perhaps  t>e  some  satisftiction  to  ahow  the  young 
writer,  that  the  most  celebrated  ancients  have  been  as 
rudely  subjected  to  the  tyranny  of  criticism  as  the  mo- 
derns. Detraction  has  ever  poured  the  *  waters  of  bitter- 

It  was  given  out,  that  Homer  had  stolen  from  anterior 
poets  whatever  was  most  remarkable  in  the  Iliad  uid 
Odyssey.  Naucrates  even  points  out  the  source  in  the 
library  at  Memphis  in  a  temple  of  Vulcan,  which  accord- 
mg  to  him  the  blind  bard  completely  pillaged.  Undoubt- 
edly there  were  good  poets  before  Homer ;  how  absurd  to 
conceive  that  a  finished  and  elaborate  poem  could  be  the 
first .  We  have  indeed  accounts  of  anterior  poets,  and 
apparently  of  epics,  before  Homer ;  their  names  have  come 
down  to  us.  Aelian  notices  Sya^nis,  who  composed  a 
poem  on  the  Sie^e  of  Troy ;  and  Suidas  the  poem  of  Co- 
rmnus,  from  which  it  is  said  Homer  greatly  borrowed. 
Why  did  Plato  so  severely  condemn  the  great  batd.  and 
imitate  him?  ^  ' 

Sophocles  was  brought  to  trial  by  his  children  as  a  lo- 
nauc;  and  some,  who  censured  the  inequalities  of  this 
E^tik  ^^"^  ^  rondeinned  the  vanity  of  Pindar ;  the 
nVhrploJ^.^"^^'""'  "^  Euripides,  for  the  con- 

^J^x  *''***7*'*i.  **»•  l»"w  points  out  as  a  Socratic  folly, 
hb  iff^te  i"""^  *»  ^»*«  »•»»'•  of  justice  befiS 

n^S  ^v  hZ  thr^TJi*'  ^V"«y.  ~ch  modem' wit. 
SSSTof  wSo^     ***'  •"^•"^  "»P*»**«»  in  ^  awful 

•••■TOTy,  »  Heopompm,  of  Lying ;  Sui. 




iu,  of  avarice ;  Aulus  Gelliut,  of  robbery  ;  Porphyry,  of 
incontinence ;  and  Aristophanes,  of  impiety. 

Aristotle,  whoso  industry  composed  moro  than  four  hun- 
dred volumes,  has  not  been  less  spared  by  ihe  critics  ; 
Diogenes  Laertius,  Cicero,  and  Plutarch,  have  forgotten 
nothmg  that  can  tend  to  show  bis  ignorance,  bis  ambition, 
and  his  vanity. 

It  has  been  said,  that  Plato  was  so  envious  of  the  ce- 
lebrity of  Dcmocritus,  that  he  proposed  burning  all  his 
works ;  but  that  Amydis  and  Clmias  prevented  it,  by  re- 
monstratinff  that  theru  were  copies  of  them  every  where ; 
and  Aristotle  was  agitated  by  the  same  passion  against  all 
the  philosophers  his  predecessors  ! 

Virgil  is  destitute  of  invention,  if  we  are  to  give  credit 
to  Piiny,  Carbtlius,  and  Seneca.  Caligula  has  ab'^olutely 
denied  him  even  mediocrity ;  Herennus  has  marked  his 
faults ;  and  Peniius  Faustinus  has  fi:rnishtd  a  thick  vol. 
with  his  plagiarisms.  Even  the  author  of  his  apology  has 
confessed  that  ho  has  stolen  from  Homer  his  greatest  beau- 
ties ;  from  Apollonius  Rhodius,  many  of  his  pathetic  pas- 
sages ;  from  Nicander,  hints  from  his  Georgics  ;  and  this 
does  not  terminate  the  catalogue. 

Horace  censur<>8  the  coarse  humour  of  Plautus ;  and  Ho- 
race, in  his  turn,  has  been  blamed  for  the  free  use  he  made 
of  the  Greek  minor  nocts. 

The  majority  of  the  critics  regard  Pliny's  Natural  His- 
tory only  as  a  heap  of  fables ;  and  seem  to  have  quite  as 
little  respect  for  Quintus  Curtius,  %vho  indeed  seenu  to 
have  composed  little  more  than  an  elegant  romance. 

Pliny  cannot  bear  Diodorus  and  Vopiscus  ;  and  in  one 
comprehensive  criticism,  treats  all  the  historians  as  narra- 
tors of  fables. 

Livy  has  been  reproached  for  his  aversion  to  the  Gauls ; 
Dion,  for  his  hatred  of  the  republic  ;  Vcileius  Paterculus, 
for  speaking  too  kindly  of  the  vices  of  Tiberius ;  and  He- 
rodotus and  Plutarch,  for  their  excessive  partiality  to  their 
own  country  ;  while  the  latter  has  written  nn  entire  trea- 
tise on  the  malignity  of  Herodotus.  Xenophon  and 
Q.uintui  Curtius  have  been  considered  rather  as  novelists 
than  historians ;  and  Tacitus  has  been  censured  for  his 
audacity  in  pretending  to  discover  the  political  sprinrrs  and 
secret  causes  of  events.  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  hnn 
made  an  elaborate  attack  on  Thucydides  for  the  unskilful 
choice  of  his  suhjr-cts  and  his  manner  of  treating;  it.  Dio- 
nysius would  have  nothing  written  but  what  tended  to  the 
glory  of  his  country  and  the  pleasure  of  the  reader ;  as  if 
history  %vere  a  son^ !  adds  Hobbes  :  while  ho  also  shows 
that  there  was  a  personal  motive  in  this  attack.  The  same 
Dionysius  severely  criticises  the  style  of  Xenophon,  who, 
he  says,  whenever  ho  attempts  to  elevate  his  style  shows 
he  is  incapable  of  supporting  it.  Polybius  has  been  blamed 
for  his  frequent  introduction  of  moral  reflpction*?,  which 
interrupt  the  thread  of  hi<  narrative  :  and  Sallusi  has  been 
blamed  byCatofor  indulging  his  own  private  passions,  and 
studiously  concealing  many  of  the  glorious  actions  of  Cice- 
ro. The  Jewisij  historian  Joscphus  is  acciscd  of  not  having 
designt'd  his  history  for  his  own  people  so  much  as  for 
the  Greeks  and  Roman-',  whom  he  takes  the  utmost  caro 
never  to  offend.  Joscphus  assumes  a  Romm  name,  F'la- 
vius  ;  and  considerin'j  his  nation  as  entirely  8ubju;;atcd,  he 
only  varies  his  story  to  make  them  appear  venerab'c  and 
dignified  to  their  connuerors,  and  for  ihi-j  purpose,  alters 
what  he  himself  mil-!  the  Holt/  hooka.  It  is  well  known 
how  widely  he  dilTers  fmtn  the  scriptural  account.'*.  Some 
have  said  of  Cicero,  that  there  is  no  connexion,  and,  to 
adopt  their  own  figures,  no  blood  and  ncrvciy  in  what  his 
admirers  so  warmly  extol.  Cold  in  his  extemporaneous 
effusions,  artificial  in  his  exordiums,  trifling  in  his  strained 
raillerv,  and  tiresome  in  his  digressions.  This  is  saymg  a 
good  deal  about  Cicero ! 

Q,uintilian  docs  not  .«pare  Seneca ;  and  Demosthenes, 
called  by  Cicero  the  prince  of  orators,  has,  acr^^ding  to 
Hermippus,  more  of  art  than  of  nature.  To  Demades, 
his  orations  appear  too  much  laboured  ;  others  have  thouTht 
him  too  dry  ;  and,  if  wo  may  trust  jEschinos,  his  language 
ifl  by  no  means  pure. 

The  Attic  Nights  of  Aulas  Golliua  and  the  Deipnoso- 
phists  of  AihenajiiB,  while  they  have  been  extolled  hy  ono 
party,  have  been  degraded  by  anollicr.  They  have  b.'en 
considered  as  botchers  of  rags  and  remnants  ;  their  dili- 
gence has  not  been  accompanied  by  judjiraent ;  and  their 
taste  inclined  more  to  the  frivolous  than  to  the  useful. 
Compilers,  indeed,  are  liable  to  a  hard  fate,  f->r  little  dis- 
tinction is  mado  in  their  ranks  ;  a  disajrrccahle  sir-jation,  in 
which  hnncsl  B'ir'oa  je-'ms  to  hav*  b?en  pli'-'d  \  tor  b*" 

says  of  his  work,  that  some  will  cry  out,  *  This  is  a  thinge 
of  mere  indusiric.*  a  eoUtxtion  without  wit  or  invention  ;  ft 
very  toy!  So  men  are  valued!  their  labours  vilified  by 
fellows  of  no  worth  themselves,  as  things  of  naught ;  who 
could  not  have  done  as  much.  Some  understande  too 
little,  and  some  too  much.' 

Should  wc  proceed  with  the  list  to  our  own  country,  and 
to  our  own  times,  it  might  be  currently  augmented,  and 
show  Ihe  world  what  men  the  critics  are !  but,  perhaps, 
enough  has  been  said  to  sooth  irritated  genius,  and  to 
shame  fastidious  criticism.  *  I  would  beg  the  critics  to  re- 
member,' the  Earl  of  Roscommon  writes,  in  his  preface 
to  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,  *  that  Horace  owed  his  favour 
and  his  fortune  to  the  character  given  of  him  by  Virgil  and 
Varius  ;  that  Fundanius  and  Pollio,  are  still  valued  by  what 
Horace  kzlvs  of  them  ,*  and  that  in  their  golden  age,  tl)ero 
was  a  good  understanding  among  the  in<renious,  and  those 
who  were  the  most  esteemed  were  the  best  natured.' 


Those  who  have  laboured  most  zealously  to  instruct 
mankind,  have  been  those  who  have  suffered  roost  from 
ignorance ;  and  the  discoverers  of  new  arts  and  sciences 
have  hardly  ever  lived  to  see  them  accepted  by  the  world. 
With  a  noble  perception  of  his  own  seniu?,  Lord  BacoO} 
in  his  prophetic  will,  thus  expresses  himself.  '  For  my 
name  and  memory,  I  leave  it  to  men's  charitable  speeches, 
and  to  foreign  nations,  and  the  next  ages.'  Before  the 
times  of  Galileo  and  Harvey,  the  world  believed  in  the 
stagnation  of  the  blood,  and  the  diurnal  immovabihty  of  the 
earth  ;  and  for  denying  these  the  ono  was  persecuted  and 
the  other  ridiculed. 

The  intelligence  and  the  virtue  of  Socrates  were  pun- 
ished witli  death.  Anaxagoras,  when  he  attempted  to  pro- 
pagate a  just  notion  of  the  Supreme  Being,  was  dragged  to 
>ri3on.  ArijJtotle,  after  a  long  Fcries  of  persecution,  swal- 
owed  pni.-on.  Ileraclilus.  tormented  by  his  countrymen, 
)roke  ofl'  all  intercourse  wiih  men.  The  great  geometri- 
cians and  chemi.«'.s,  as  Gerhert,  Roger  Bacon,  and  others, 
were  abhorred  as  magicians.  Pope  Gerhert,  as  Bishop 
Olho  gravely  relates,  obtained  the  pontificate  by  having 
given  lii:rj.-;eif  up  entirely  to  tLe  devil:  oiliers  suspected 
him  too  (if  hoi(Jin<?  an  intercourse  with  demons  ;  but  this 
was  indeed  a  dcvilish  affe. 

Virpilnis,  Bishop  of  Saltzbnr;:,  having  asserted  that  there 
existed  antipodes,  the  arehbish.ip  of  Mcniz  declared  him  a 
heretir,  and  consigned  him  to  the  flames  :  and  the  Abbot 
Triihemins,  whj  was  fimd  ofimprovin;*  Pt*'jano|;raphy,or 
the  art  of  secret  writin;.',  having  published  several  curious 
works  on  thi-j  subject,  they  were  condemned,  as  works  full 
of  diabolical  mysicries  ;  and  Frederick  II,  Elector  Pala- 
tine, ortiered  Triihemius's  original  work,  which  was  in  his 
library,  to  b.'  pubiicly  burnt. 

Galileo  was  condemned  at  Rome  publicly  to  di"5avow  sen- 
timents, the  trith  of  wi.ich  must  have  been  to  him  abun- 
dantly manst'tst. '  Arc  these  then  my  judge:^  ?'  he  exclaimed 
in  reiirittij  from  the  inrpiisitors,  whose  ianoranec  astonished 
him.  He  was  imprisoned,  and  visited  by  IMi.ion,  «ho  tells 
us  ho  was  then  poor  an  i  old.  The  confessor  of  his  widow, 
taUinii  arlvanfa^o  of  In  r  pi^ty,  perused  tl.f^  m-s  cf  this 
great  nh:l'>fr»plier,  and  destrojed  s-neh  as  in  hii  judgmtntt 
were  not  til  to  be  known  to  the  wcr'.dl 

Gabriel  Nau'le.  in  In?  an dojv  'crtho^o  ireal  men  who 
have  been  n'-e'.  .•  1  of  miiric.  h -s  recripl*  d  a  m' lanrholy 
number  of  th'  nio^t  einin.  tit  sf'.n  iais,  who  have  found,  that 
to  hive.  b"en  >'irrrs««twl  in  tiifir  .«;tU(iies  uns  a  success 
which  liar.iF.icd  ihein  w;ih  continued  per^jcculion,  a  prison, 
or  a  crav". 

Corr:e'.in  A?ripna  wascompi^lled  toflv  h*^  roiintry.  and 
theen-'ivrn'^nt  ot  a  lar'/e  income,  merely  for  havirT  display- 
ed a  t'-'w  ph  losii;>liieal  exp'rirneiits,  wbi  h  nov.'  e-vory 
sc)iool-bov  cat!  rr  xlnrn  \  but  more  p.irri'MiInrly  having  at- 
ta'^ked  tr  >  t'le.i  jirevai.iJij  opirnii.  that  St.  Am."  iiaJ  three 
hn-l-Mnd  ■.  lie  was  so  vioU  ntiy  per-<ecuted,  th;"t  he  was 
ob.i.T'.d  to  lly  from  plice  to  pia«"0.  The  peopl''  b-he!d  him 
as  nn  o'i'ct  of  l.orr-ir ;  ard  not  unfreqii-mlv,  when  he 
w-i'kfd,  h"  tonnd  the  directs  empty  at  his  approtich.  He 
died  in  an  ho-oila!. 

In  the«5o  11- kh.  it  was  a  Common  opinion  to  puspect 
cvcrv  great  man  ofnn  intercourse  with  Foinc  familiar  spirit, 
Tho'fav<)i3rit'5  blaek  i\o'Z  of  A^rippa  was  si-pposed  to  be  ft 
demon.  AVhrn  UrbTnGrandier,  another  victim  to  the  age, 
was  led  \o  v\  •  *;!;lve,  a  larLU'  fly  settled  on  his  head  :  ft 
monk,  w'"  >  ,11  i  h  ar.l  t'l^t  B  rV  btih  sisnifies  in  Hebrew, 
the  <~Jod  ' :  K. •••■',  i'".i'''!*'.l  '.a'.  \\-  r^aw  this  spirit  come  to 



take  possession  of  him.  Mr  De  Langear,  a  French  mini- 
ster, who  employed  many  spiest,  was  frequently  accused 
of  diabolical  communication.  Sixtus  the  Fifib,  Marechal 
Faber,  Roger  Bacon,  Caesar  Borgia,  his  son  Alexander 
VI,  and  olhers,  like  Socrates,  had  their  diabolical  attend- 

Cardan  was  believed  to  be  a  magician.  The  fact  is,  that 
he  was  for  his  time  a  very  able  naturalist ;  and  he  who 
happened  to  know  something  of  the  arcana  of  nature  was 
immediately  suspected  of  magic.  Even  the  learned  them- 
selves, who  had  not  applied  to  natural  philosophy,  seem  to 
have  acted  with  the  same  feelings  as  the  most  ignorant ;  for 
when  Albert,  usually  called  the  Great,  an  epithet  he  owed 
to  his  name  De  Cfrootj  constructed  a  curious  piece  of 
mechanism,  which  sent  forth  distinct  vocal  sounds,  Thomas 
Aquinas  was  so  much  terrified  at  it,  that  he  struck  it  with 
his  staff,  and  to  the  mortification  of  Albert  annihilated  the 
corious  labour  of  thirty  years  ! 

Petrarch  was  less  desirous  of  the  laurel  for  the  honour, 
than  for  the  hope  of  being  sheltered  by  it  from  the  thunder 
of  the  priests,  oy  whom  iKtth  he  and  his  brother  poets  were 
continually  threatened.  They  could  not  imagine  a  poet, 
without  supposing  him  to  hold  an  intercourse  with  some 
demon.  This  was,  as  Abb^  Resnel  observes,  having  a 
most  exalted  idea  of  poetry,  though  a  very  bad  one  of  poets. 
An  antipoetic  Dominican  was  notorious  for  persecuting  all 
verse  makers ;  the  power  of  which  he  attributed  to  the 
effects  o( heresy  and  magic.  The  lights -ef  philosophy  have 
dispersed  all  these  accusations  of  magic,  and  have  shown 
a  dreadful  chain  of  perjuries  and  conspiracies. 

Descartes  was  horribly  persecuted  in  Holland,  when  he 
first  published  his  opinions.     Voetius,  a  bigot  of  crcal  in- 
fluence at  Utrecht,  accused  him  of  atheism,  and  had  even 
projected  in  his  mind  to  have  this  philosopher  burned  at 
Utrecht  in   an   extraordinary  fire,  which,  kindled  on  an 
eminence,  micht  be  observed  by  the  seven  provinces.    Mr 
Hallam  has  observed,  that  '  the  ordeal  of  fire  was  the  great 
purifier  of  books  and  men.'     This  persecution  of  science 
and  genius  lasttd  till  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
*  If  the  metaphysician  stood  a  chance  of  being  burned  as 
a  heretic,  the  natural  philo<;opher  was  not  in  less  jeopardy 
as  a  aiagician,'  is  an  observation  of  the  same  vmler 
which  sums  up  the  whole. 


Forttme  has  rarely  condescended  to  be  the  companion 
of  genius  :  others  find  a  hundred  by  roads  to  her  palace ; 
there  is  but  one  open,  and  Ihat  a  very  indifferent  one,  for 
men  of  letters.     AVere  we  to  erect  an  asylum  for  venerable 
genius,  as  we  do  for  the   brave  and  the  helpless   part  of 
our  citizens,  it  might  br;  inscribed  a  Hospital  for  Incurablcsl 
When  even  Fame  will  not  protect  the  man  of  grnius  from 
famine,  Charity  ou»»ht.     Nor  ihotild  s'ich  an  act  be  consi- 
dered as  a  dfbi  incurred  by  the  helpless  member,  but  a  just 
tribute  we  pay  in  his  p*»r'»on  to  Grnius  itsoif.     Even  in 
these  en'ijrhtcned  tim«»«  ««irh  have  lived  in  obsriitily  while 
their  rt-putalion  was  widely  spread  :  and  have  perished  in 
poverty,  wiuie  th'^ir  work:*  wrre  enriching  the  I»w>k.<«e.ler8. 
Of  the  heroes  of  mo<^"m  lit«^ralurc  liie  accounts  are  as 
copious  as  they  are  melancholy. 

Xylander  po'.d  his  notes  on  Dion  Ca^sius  for  a  dinner. 
He  tells  us,  that  at  the  ajr**  of  ft'jhif^'n  he  studied  to  ac- 
quire glory,  but  at  twenty-fiv*  he  st'Hird  to  jet  bread. 

CervanU'S,  the  immortal  e«'ni'is  of  Sriain,  is  supposed  to 
have  wanted  bread  ;  Carnoens,  the  solitary  pride  of  Portu- 
gal, deprived  of  the  necesMries  of  life,  perished  in  on  hos- 
pital at  Lisbon.  This  fact  han  been  ar^^iWcniaiiy  preserved 
in  an  entry  in  a  copv  of  the  fi'si  edition  of  the  Loj-iad,  in 
the  possession  of  Lord  H'»i.and.  In  a  note  wri'ten  by  a 
friar,  who  must  have  b^.'rn  a  witness  of  the  dun?  "e*  ne  of 
the  p'Xit,  and  probably  received  ihe  volume  whiWi  m>w 
preserves  the  sad  memorial,  and  wiiirh  rccal'ed  it  to  his 
mind,  from  the  handi  of  ihe  unhappy  poet.  *  What  a  la- 
mentable thing  to  sec  so  preata  cenius  so  ill  rewarded  I  1 
aaw  him  die  in  an  hospital  in  Lisbon,  without  having  a 
sheet  or  shroud,  ttJia  Mouana,  to  cover  him,  affer  having 
triumphed  in  the  East  Indies,  and  sailed  6500  lea?tieg  I 
What  good  advice  for  those  who  weary  themselves  night 
■nd  day  in  study  without  profit'  Carnoens,  when  some 
bidalgo  complained  that  he  had  not  performed  his  prrrmiw 
in  writing  some  verses  for  him,  replird,  "Wlien  I  wrote 
Tertes  I  was  voting,  had  stifficient  food,  was  a  lover,  and 
beloved  by  roanv  friends,  and  by  the  laHies;  then  I  fnt 
poetical  ardoor  ;'dow  I  have  no  spirits,  no  peace  of  n.ind. 
See  there  ror  Javanese  who  a*k^  m-  for  iwo  pi-r.^io 

purchase  firing,  and  I  have  them  not  to  give  him.'  Thm 
Portuguese,  after  his  death,  bestowed  on  the  man  of  genius 
they  had  starved  the  appellation  of  Great !  Vondel, 
the  Dutch  Shakspeare,  after  composing  a  number  of  po» 
pular  tragedies,  lived  in  great  poverty,  and  died  at  ninety 
years  of  age  ;  then  he  had  hu  cofiui  carried  by  fourteen 
poets,  who  without  his  genius  probably  partook  of  his 

The  great  Taaso  was  reduced  to  such  a  dilemma,  that 
he  was  obliged  to  borrow  a  crown  from  a  friend  to  subsiit 
through  the  week.  He  alludes  to  his  dress  in  a  pretty 
sonnet,  which  he  addresses  to  his  cat,  entreating  ner  to 
assist  him,  during  the  night,  with  the  lustre  of  her  eyes— 
*  Non  avendo  eandele  per  Uerivere  i  tuoi  verdP  having  no 
candle  to  see  to  write  his  verses ! 

W^hen  the  liberality  of  Alphonso  enabled  Ariosto  to 
build  a  small  house,  it'  seems  that  it  was  but  ill  furnished* 
When  told  that  such  a  building  was  not  fit  for  one  wbo 
had  raised  so  many  fine  palaces  in  his  writings,  he  answeiw 
ed,  that  the  structure  of  tcortfs  and  that  of  stones  was  not 
the  same  thine.  *  Che porvile.  pietrty  e porvi  U parole^  ntm 
e  U  medcsimo  P  At  Ferrara  this  house  is  still  shown.  *  Par- 
va  sed  apta'  he  calls  it,  but  exults  that  it  was  paid  with  his 
own  monev.  This  was  in  a  moment  of  good-humour, 
which  he  did  not  always  enjoy;  for  in  his  Satires  he  bitter- 
ly complains  of  the  bondage  of  dependence  and  poverty. 
Little  thought  the  poet  the  commune  would  order  this  small 
houso  to  be  purchased  with  their  own  funds,  that  it  might 
be  dedicated  to  his  immortal  memory  ! 

The  illustrious  Cardinal  Bentivoglio,  the  ornament  o( 
Italy  and  of  literature,  languished,  in  his  old  age,  in  the 
most  distressful  poverty  ;  and  having  sold  his  palace  to  sa- 
tisfy his  creditors,  left  nothing  behind  him  but  his  reputa- 
tion. The  learned  Pomponius  Lntus  lived  in  such  a  state 
of  poverty,  that  his  friend  Plaiina  who  wrote  the  lives 
of  the  popes,  and  also  a  book  of  cookerv,  introduces  him 
into  the  cookery  book  by  a  facetious  observation,  that  i. 
Pomponius  Ltrtus  should  be  robbed  of  a  couple  of  eggs, 
he  would  not  have  wherewithal  to  purchase  two  other  eggs. 
The  history  of  Aldrovandus  is  noble  and  pathetic ;  havmg 
expended  a  large  fortune  in  forming  his  collections  of  na- 
tural history,  and  employing  the  first  artists  in  Europe,  be 
was  suffered  to  die  in  the  hospital  of  that  city,  to  whose 
fame  he  had  eminently  contributed. 

Du  Ryer,  a  celebrated  French  poet,  was  constrained  to 
labour  with  rapidity,  and  to'  live  in  the  cottage  of  an  ob- 
scure village.     His  booksellers  bought  his  heroic  verses 
for  one  hundred  sols  the  hundred  lines,  and  the  smaller  ones 
for  fifty  s'-'.'S.     What  an  interesting  picture  has  a  contem- 
porary given  of  his  reception  bv  a  poor  and  ingenious  author 
in  a  visit  he  paid  to  Du  Ryerl  *  On  a  fine  summer  day  we 
went  to  him,  at  some  distance  from  town.   He  received  us 
with  joy,  talked  to  us  of  his  numerous  projects,  and  show- 
ed us  several  of  his  works.     But  what  more  interested  us 
was,  that  though  dreading  to  show  us  his  poverty,  he  con- 
trived to  cive  us  pome  refreshments.     "We  seated  ourselves 
under  a  wide  oak,  the  tablerloih  was  spread  on  the  grass, 
his  wife  brought  us  some  milk,  with  fresh  water  and  browu 
bread,  and  he  picked  a  basket  of  cherries.     He  welcomed 
us  with  gaiety,  but  we  could  not  take  leave  of  this  amiable 
man,  now  grown  old,  without  tears,  to  see  him  so  ill  treat- 
ed by  fortune,  and  to  have  nothing  left  but  literary  honour !' 
Vaugelas,  the  most  polished  writer  of  the  French  lan- 
guage, who  devoted  30  years  to  his  translation  of  Quintus 
CurtiiiM  (a  circnmstanco  which  modem  translators  can 
have  no  conception  of,)  died  possessed  of  nothing  valuable 
but  hi*  precious  manuscripts.     This  ingenious  scholar  left 
bin  roru^e  to  the  surgeons  for  the  benefit  of  his  creditors! 
Loujn   I  he  Fourteenth  honoured   Racine  and  Boileau 
with  a  private  monthly  audience.    One  dav  the  king  asked, 
what  there  wai  new  in  the  literary  world  ?     Racine  an 
swered,  I  hat  he  had  seen  a  melancholy  spectacle  in  the 
hnmr.  of  Corneille,  whom  he  found  dying,  deprived  even  of 
a  Ittt'.c  broth  !     The  king  preserved  a  profound  silence : 
and  itent  the  dying  poet  a  sum  of  money. 

Dr.vden,  for  less  than  three  hundred  pounds,  sold  Ton- 
s^m  leri  thrMi.and  vernes,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  agreement 
winch  hss  been  piibitBhrd. 
Pnr'ha.,  who,  in  iho  reign  of  onr  First  James,  had 

'.rVr'V/"  ?  ''?^*^"  ■"'*  study  to  form  his /Jefa/ion  0/ 

11     "!  /'  *'"*"  '•"  f"^*  "  '"  **>«  P"^'**".  '■<•»•  Ihe  rewarf 
o!   h.i   lahMirt  %va«  thrown  into  pn«on,  at  the  suit  of  his 

priri't'r.      y»i»|it-«ttB  the  book  whi^h, 
1  -  4' t*u»^ ton  t«.f:hoflet  the  Kir»i,  ».,•' 
r  •;i.t  V  r\,  tfr»  ©•  ir*  fit  and  fafi»fortjof». 

h**  informs  us  in 
f?Micr  read  cvcrv 



The  Marquis  of  Worcester,  in  a  petition  to  parliament, 
m  the  reign  of  Charles  II,  offered  to  publish  the  hundred 
pn>ceBses  and  machines,  enumerated  in  his  very  curious 
*  Cenentary  of  Inventions,'  on  condition  that  money  should 
be  granted  to  extricate  him  from  the  diffiadtie*  in  tohich  he 
had  involved  kimstlfy  by  tlu  proaeeulion  ofus^ul  dueovaiei. 
The  petition  does  not  appear  to  have  been  attended  to ! 
Many  of  these  admirable  mventions  were  lost.  The  tUam 
engine  and  the  Ulegrmh  may  be  traced  among  them. 

It  appears  by  the  Harleian  mss,  1524,  that  Rush  worth, 
the  author  of  *  Historical  Collections,'  passed  the  last 
years  of  his  life  in  jail,  where  indeed  he  died.  Afler  the 
Restoration,  when  he  presented  to  the  king  several  of  the 

erivy  council's  books,  which  he  had  preserved  from  ruin, 
e  received  for  his  only  reward,  the  thcmka  of  Ma  majaty. 

Rymer,  the  collector  of  the  FcDdera,  must  have  been 
sadly  reduced,  by  the  following  tetter,  I  found  addressed  by 
Peter  le  Neve,  Norrov,  to  the  Earl  of  Oxford  : 

*  I  am  desired  by  Mr  Rymer,  historiographer,  to  lay 
before  your  lordship  the  circumstances  of  his  affairs.  He 
was  forced  some  years  back  to  part  with  all  his  choice 
printed  hooks  to  subsist  himself;  and  now,  he  says,  he 
must  be  forced,  for  subsistence,  to  sell  all  his  ms  collec- 
tions to  the  best  bidder,  without  your  lordship  will  bo  pleased 
to  buy  them  for  the  queen's  library.  They  are  fifty  vols. 
in  folio,  of  public  aftairs,  which  he  hath  collected,  but  not 
printed.     The  price  he  asks  is  five  hundred  pounds.' 

Simon  Ockley,  a  learned  student  in  Oriental  literature, 
addresses  a  letter  to  the  same  earl,  in  which  he  paints  his 
distresses  in  glowing  colours.  After  having  devoted  his 
life  to  Asiatic  researches,  then  very  uncommon,  ho  had  the 
mortification  of  dating  his  preface  to  his  great  work  from 
Cambridge  Castle,  where  he  was  confined  for  debt ;  and, 
with  an  air  of  triumph,  feels  a  martyr's  enthusiasm  in  the 
cause  in  which  he  perishes. 

He  published  his  fir^t  volume  of  the  History  of  the  Sa- 
racens, in  1708 ;  and  ardently  pursuing  his  oriental  studies, 
published  his  second  volume  ten  years  afterwards  without 
any  patronage.  Alluding  to  the  encouragement  necessary 
to  bestow  on  youth,  to  remove  tlie  obstacles  to  such  studies, 
he  observes,  that  *  young  men  will  hardly  come  in  on  the 
prospect  of  finding  leisure,  in  a  ;  ri«-ftn,  tn  transcribe  those 
papers  for  the  press,  which  they  have  collected  with  inde- 
fatigable labour,  and  oftentimes  at  the  expense  of  their 
rest,  and  all  the  other  conveniences  of  life,  tor  the  service 
of  the  public.  No,  thoujjh  I  were  to  as!>ure  them  from  my 
own  experience,  that  I  have  enjoyed  more  true  liberty, 
more  happy  leisure,  and  more  solid  repose,  in  six  months 
Aere,  than  in  thrice  the  same  number  of  years  before.  Evil  is 
the  condition  of  that  hisforian  who  undertakes  to  write  the 
lives  of  others,  before  he  knows  how  to  live  himself!  Not 
that  I  speak  thus  as  if  I  thought  I  had  any  just  cause  to  be 
angry  with  the  world — I  did  always  in  my  judgment  give 
the  possession  of  wisdom  the  preference  lo  that  of  riches  ! 

Spenser,  the  child  of  Fancy,  languished  out  his  life  in 
misery.  '  Lord  Burleigh,'  bays  Granger,  *  who  it  is  said 
^evented  the  queen  giving  him  a  hundred  pounds,  seems 
to  have  thought  the  lowest  clerk  in  his  office  a  more  de- 
■erviog  person.'  Mr  Malone  attempts  to  show  that  Spen- 
ser had  a  small  pension ;  but  tlie  poet's  querulous  verses 
must  not  be  forgotten — 

*  Full  liule  knowest  tliou,  that  bast  not  try'd 

*  What  Hell  it  is,  in  suing  long  tu  LUlc* 

To  lose  good  days— ^to  waste  long  nights— and  as  he 
feelingly  exclaims, 

*  To  fawn,  lo  crouch,  to  wait,  to  ride,  to  run, 

*  To  speed,  to  give,  to  want,  to  be  undone  !* 

How  affectuig  is  the  death  of  Sydenham,  who  Lad  de- 
voted his  life  to  a  laborious  version  of  Plato.  Ho  died  in 
a  spunging-house,  and  it  was  his  death  which  appears  to 
have  given  rise  to  the  Literary  Fund  *  for  the  relief  of 
distressed  authors.' 

Who  shall  pursue  important  labours  when  they  read 
these  anecdotes  ?  Dr  Edmund  Castell  spent  a  great  part 
of  his  life  in  compiling  his  Lcaeieou  Hepttiglotton^  on  which 
he  bestowed  incredible  pains,  and  expended  on  it  no  less 
than  12,000/.,  and  broke  his  constitution,  and  exhausted 
his  fortune.  At  length  it  was  printed,  but  the  copies  re- 
mained untoid  on  hie  hands.  He  exhibits  a  curious  pic- 
ture of  literary  labour  in  his  preface.  <  As  for  myself,  I 
have  been  unceasingly  occupied  for  such  a  number  of  years 
in  this  mass,*  Molendino  he  calls  them,  <  that  that  day 
seemed,  as  it  were,  a  holiday  in  which  E  have  not  laboured 

so  much  as  sixteen  or  eighteen  hours  m  these  enlarging 
lexicons  and  Polyglot  Bibles.' 

Le  Sage  resided  in  a  little  cottage  while  he  supplied  the 
world  w^iih  their  most  agreeable  novels,  and  appears  to 
have  derived  the  sources  of  his  existence  in  his  old  age 
from  the  filial  exertions  of  an  excellent  son,  who  was  an 
actor  of  some  genius.  I  wish,  however,  that  every  man  of 
letters  could  apply  to  himself  the  epitaph  of  this  delightfal 
writer : 

Sous  ce  tombeau  git  Le  Sage  abaltu, 
Far  le  ciseau  de  la  Parque  importune ; 
SMI  ne  fui  pas  ami  de  la  fortune, 
II  fu(  loujours  ami  de  la  veriu. 

Many  years  afler  this  article  had  been  written,  I  pub- 
lished *  Calamities  of  Authors,'  confining  myself  to  tnoso 
of  our  own  country ;  the  catalogue  is  very  incomplete,  but 
far  too  tuimerous. 


Imprisonment  has  not  always  disturbed  the  man  ot  lot* 
ters  in  the  progress  of  his  studies,  but  often  unquestionably 
has  greatly  promoted  them. 

In  prison  Boethius  composed  his  work  on  the  Consola- 
tions of  Philosophy ;  and  Grotius  wrote  his  Commentary 
on  Saint  Matthew,  with  other  works :  the  detail  of  his 
allotment  of  time  to  different  studies,  during  his  confine- 
ment, is  very  instructive. 

Buchanan  in  the  dungeon  of  a  monastery  in  Portugal, 
composed  his  excellent  Paraphrases  of  the  Psalms  of  David. 

Cervantes  composed  the  most  agreeable  bo<)k  in  the 
Spanish  language  during  hii>  captivity  in  Barbary. 

Fleta,  a  well  known  law  production,  was  written  by  a 
person  confined  in  the  Fleet  for  debt ;  the  name  of  the 
place,  though  not  that  of  the  author,  has  thus  been  pre- 
served ;  and  another  work,  *  Fleta  Minor,  or  the  Laws  of 
Art  and  Nature  in  knowing  the  Bodies  of  Metals,  &c., 
by  Sir  John  Pcttus,  1683;'  who  gave  it  this  title  from  the 
circumstance  of  his  having  translated  it  from  the  German 
during  his  confinement  in  this  prison. 

Louis  the  Twelfth,  when  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  was  long 
imprisoned  in  the  Tower  of  Bourges,  applying  himself  to 
his  studies,  which  he  had  hitherto  neglected  ;  he  became, 
in  consequence,  an  enlightened  monarch. 

Margaret,  queen  of  Henry  the  Fourth,  king  of  France, 
confined  in  the  Louvre,  pursued  very  warmly  the  studies 
of  elegant  literature,  and  composed  a  very  skilful  apology 
for  the  irregularities  of  her  conduct. 

Charles  the  First,  during  his  cruel  confinement  at  HoIm»> 
by,  wrote  the  Eikon  Basilikc, '  the  Royal  Image,'  address- 
ed to  his  son ;  this  work  has,  however,  been  attributed  by 
his  enemies  to  Dr  Gauden,  who  was  incapable  of  writing 
the  book,  though  not  of  disowning  it. 

dueen  Elizabeth,  while  confined  by  her  sister  Mary, 
wrote  several  poems,  which  we  do  not  find  she  ever  could 
eoual  after  her  enlargement;  and  it  is  said  Mary  Q,ueen 
of^  Scots,  during  her  long  imprisonment  by  Elizabeth,  pro- 
duced many  pleating  poetic  compositions. 

Sir  Waller  Rawlt-ij^h's  unfinished  History  of  the  World, 
which  leaves  us  to  regret  that  later  ages  had  not  been  cele- 
brtfled  by  his  sublime  eloquence,  was  the  fruits  of  eleven 
years  of  imprisonment.  It  was  written  for  the  use  of 
Prince  Henry,  as  he  and  Dallinston,  who  also  \^rotc  'Apho- 
risms' for  the  same  prince,  nave  told  us ;  the  prmce 
looked  over  the  manuscript.  Of  Rawleigh  it  is  observed, 
to  employ  the  language  uf  Hume,  '  They  were  struck  with 
the  extensive  genius  of  the  man,  who,  being  educated 
amidst  naval  and  mihtary  enterprises,  had  surpassed,  in  the 
pursuits  of  literature,  even  those  of  the  most  recluse  and 
sedentary  lives ;  and  they  admired  his  unbroken  magnani- 
mity which  at  his  ago,  and  under  his  circumstances,  could 
engage  him  to  undertake  and  execute  so  great  a  work  as 
his  History  of  the  World.  He  was,  however,  assisted  in 
this  great  work  by  the  learning  of  several  eminent  persons  \ 
a  circumstance  which  has  not  been  noticed. 

The  plan  of  the  Henriade  was  sketched,  and  the  greater 
part  composed,  by  Voltaire,  during  his  imprisonment  in 
the  Bastile ;  and  '  the  Pilgrim's  Progress'  of^  Bunyan  was 
produced  in  a  similar  situation. 

Howcl,  the  author  of '  Familar  Letters,'  wrote  the  chief 

f>art  of  then),  and  almost  all  his  other  woii:s,  during  his 
ong  confinement  in  the  Fleet- prison ;  he  employed  his 
ferule  pen  for  subsistence ;  and  in  all  his  books  wo  find 
much  entertainment. 

Lydiat,  while  confined  In  the  Kint,''s  Bench,  for  debt, 
wrote  his  Annotations  on  'An-  Parian  Chronicle,  which  wer% 



first  published  by  Prideauz.  This  was  that  learned  scholar 
whom  JohDs<Mt  alludes  to ;  on  allusion  not  known  to  Bos- 
well  and  others. 

The  learned  Selden,  committed  to  prison  for  his  attacks 
on  the  divine  right  of  tithes  and  the  king's  prerogative,  pre- 
pared during  hu  confinement,  his  history  of  Eadmer,  en- 
riched by  his  notes. 

Cardinal  Polignac  formed  the  design  of  refuting  the  ar- 
goments  of  the  sceptics  which  Bayle  had  been  renewing 
m  his  dictionary ;  but  his  public  occupations  hinJercd  him. 
Two  exiies  at  length  fortunately  gave  him  the  leisure ;  and 
the  Anti-Lucrctius  is  the  fruit  of  the  court  disgraces  of  its 

Freret,  when  imprisoned  in  the  Bastile,  was  permitted 
only  to  have  Ba\le  for  hu  companion.  His  dictionary  was 
always  before  him,  and  his  pnnciples  were  2:01  by  heart. 
To  this  circumstance  we  owe  his  works,  animated  by  all 
the  powers  of  scepticism. 

Sir  William  Davenant  finished  his  poem  of  Gondibort 
during  his  confinement  by  the  rebels  in  Cansbroke  Casile. 

Do  Foe,  when  imprisoned  in  Newgate  fjr  a  political 

Cphlet,  began  his  Review;  a  pericniical  paper,  \%hich 
extended  to  nioe  thick  volumes  in  quarto,  and  it  has 
been  supposed  served  as  the  model  of  the  cek  bratcd  papers 
of  Steele.     There  he  also  composed  his  Jure  Divino. 

W*icqucfort*8  curious  work  on  '  Ambassadors'  is  dated 
from  his  prison,  where  he  had  been  contined  for  ^latc  af- 
fairs. He  softened  the  rigour  of  those  heavy  hours  by  se- 
veral historical  works. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  facts  of  this  kind  is  the  fate 
of  an  Italian  scholar,  of  the  name  of  Ma;:*!!.  Early  ad- 
<iicted  to  the  study  of  the  sciences,  and  particularly  to  the 
mathematics  and  military  architecture,  he  detV  ndcd  Fa- 
mairusta,  besieged  by  the  Turks,  by  invcniin^;  ma<  liine<; 
which  destroyed  their  works.  When  that  ciiy  «a^  lakrii 
in  lo71,  they  pilla<:ed  his  library,  and  carried  imn  away  in 
chains.  Now  a  siave,  after  his  daily  labour.^  ne  aiuuj^t-d  a 
ffreat  part  of  his  iu<:hls  by  literary  com)o>i;u  ns ;  •  Dc 
Tmtinnabulis,'  on  Beiis,  a  treatise  stiii  read  by  ihe  rurtoiK, 
was  artualiy  composed  by  him  when  a  slave  in  Turkey, 
without  any  other  re^nurce  than  the  erudition  ot'  his  own 
memory,  and  the  geiuus  of  which  adversity  couid  not  de- 
prive him. 


Among  the  Jesuits  it  was  a  standing  rule  of  tlie  order, 
that  after  an  appiiration  to  study  for  two  hotir.>,  thu  mm  J 
of  the  student  stu-dd  be  unbent  by  sane  rt  .aviation  h  >«- 
ever  tritlinjj.  AVhen  Pftaviiis  was  em:>!iivjd  in  Ias  Ut^~ 
Mota  Yhcolosica,  a  work  of  the  mo^l  [jrofimiid  ati'l  exttnsivc 
•rudilion,  the  j:reat  recreation  of  the  leaintd  I  riier  wa*!  at 
the  end  of  every  sccuiid  hour  to  twirl  his  cl.air  lor  live 
minutes.  After  protracted  ittnaies  Sj»u.o««a  wdw'.a  mix  with 
the  family-party  where  he  liKj^ed,  aini  jcin  in  ilic  rn>si  tri- 
vial conversations,  or  unbend  Ins  mind  bv  >efn,'  jjjuit  rs  to 
fight  each  other  ;  he  ol^erved  their  comh.iS  «i  u  ^o  mtuh 
interest  that  he  was  o:ien  •^nzedwtth  unnix't  rat**  fits  of 
laughter.  A  continuity  ot  labour  deaiiens  the  son),  observes 
Seneca,  in  closing  his  treatne  on  '  Tne  Tranqui.ity  c.f  the 
Soul,'  and  the  mind  must  unbend  it^eil  by  ct  r(...n  amuse- 
ments. Socratrs  did  not  blush  to  play  with  chiivirt  n  :  C  alo, 
over  his  bottle,  found  an  alleviation  from  thf  fd']::u»'3  of 
government ;  a  circumstance,  he  says  in  hiv  manner,  w  liirli 
rather  gives  henour  to  this  defect,  than  the  delect  «li<h<^nours 
Cato.  Sunie  men  of  letters:  portioned  outlhnr  liav  hrtwten 
repOifo  and  lab.>ur.  A«>imiis  Po.uo  won.d  not  MitiVr  any 
business  to  occupy  him  beyond  a  stated  hour  :  ai'er  that 
time  he  would  not  al.ow  any  letter  to  be  opened  nunn^  iiis 
hours  of  relaxation,  that  they  ims.M  not  be  in!erriiy>ted  l»y 
unforeseen  labours.  In  the  senate,  aPer  the  tcntii  hour,  it 
was  rot  ai.owed  to  make  any  new  mo* ion. 

Tycho  Brahe  diverted  himself  with  poli^hinj  sl'isses  for 
all  kinds  of  spectacles,  and  making  roathemaiK-a*.  instru. 
ments  ;  an  amu«ement  too  closely  connected  with  his  stu- 
dies to  be  deemed  as  one. 

D'Andiily,  the  translator  of  Josephus,  afVer  <(even  or  eioht 
hours  of  siiudy  every  day,  amused  himself  in  cultivaiina 
trees;  Barclay,  the  author  of  tlie  A^ce^i^,  in  his  leisure 
hours  wa<  a  fl«.n<t ;  Rilsac  amused  himself  with  a  cr.'  r  c- 
tion  of  crayon  portraits ;  found  his  amusemrni 
anonfst  hu  tnrddls  and  antiquarian  curie sitie^  ;  the  Abbe 
de  Maroies  with  his  prints :  and  Politian  in  "nrn^  airs  to 
lus  lute.  Descartes  passed  his  afternoons  in  liie  convcr^a- 
tioa  of  a  few  friends,  and  in  cultivating  a  lin'o  ^ard^n:  in 
the  morning,  occupied   by  the  system  of  the  world    le 

relaxed    his  profound    speculations  by  rearing   delict 

Conrad  ab  Ufienbach,  a  learned  German,  recreated  hia 
mind,  after  severe  studies,  with  a  collection  of  prints  ol 
eminent  persons,  methodically  arranged ;  he  retained 
ardour  of  the  GrangmU  to  his  last  days. 

Rohault  wandered  from  shop  to  shop  to  observe  the 
chanics  labour;  Count  Caylus  passed  his  mornings  m  the 
ahtdioi  of  artbts,  and  bis  evenings  in  writing  his  numerotts 
works  on  art.     This  was  the  true  life  of  an  amateur. 

Granville  Sharp,  amidst  the  severities  of  his  studies,  found 
a  social  relaxation  in  the  amust-roent  of  a  barge  on  the 
Thames,  which  was  well  known  to  the  circle  of  his 
friends  ;  there,  was  festive  hospitality  with  musical  delight. 
It  was  resorted  to  by  men  of  the  most  eminent  talents 
and  rank.  His  little' voyages  to  Putney,  to  Kew,  and  to 
Richmond,  and  the  literary  intercourse  they  produced, 
were  sin^^ularly  happy  ones.  *  Tne  history  of  his  amuse- 
ments cannot  be  toid  without  adding  to  llie  dignity  of  his 
character,'  observes  JVIr  Prince  Uoare,  in  tne  very  curiooi 
life  of  this  great  nhiianthropist. 

Som<>  have  found  amusement  in  compoeing  treatises  on 
odd  suSjects.  Seurca  wrote  a  burlesque  narrative  cl 
Claud lan's  death.  Pienous  Valerianus  has  written  an 
euo^ium  on  beards ;  and  we  have  had  a  learned  one  re- 
cer.i.y,  with  due  gravity  and  pleasantry,  entitled  *£k>ge 
de  Perru.pies.' 

II'  ;-t<-in  'las  written  an  cilocmm  on  the  North  Wind; 
HtiiiMU'-,  «in  '  the  Ass  ;'  IVleiia:;c,  *  the  Transmigration  of 
the  P.-ira«-i:irn!  Pedant  to  a  Parrot ;'  and  alsotho  *  Petition 
of  the  Dictu-naries.' 

Erasmus  composed,  to  amu>e  himself  when  travelling 
in  a  pis'-chai-sc,  nis  oanecyric  on  -Vorio,  or  Fdly ;  which, 
autfi..ri7ed  by  ihe  {  un.  he  detiicaied  to  Sir  Thomas  More. 

Sa..«.ni:re,  who  wf.u  d  amuse  himself  like  Krasmus, 
wrote.  111  imitation  of  his  work,  a  panegvric  on  £hruiu. 
H"  ^a\  X-,  that  he  is  w  i\  m^  to  be  iht.iii'ht  as  drunken  a  man 
as  Kra'smu'S  was  a  fo.»  i>h  (-ne.  Ssnesius  composed  a 
Ciretk  nanesyric  en  BuuInfM ;  tlusc  burlesques  were 
brouyM  into  ceai  vo^ue  by  Krasnm!>*s  JM'jrte  Encomium. 

li  seems,  Juiin«(.n  observes  in  ins  lite  of  Sir  Thomas 
Browne,  to  have  b»'en  in  u.l  ajjis  the  pririe  of  art  to  show 
h  .w  It  coi.ld  txait  the  i.-w  and  amj...!y  th->  !mle.  To  this 
ambi'ion^s  we  ewe  t'r.e  ri-..::s  of  H«iiner ;  the  gnat 
and  the  h'*«s  of  Vir::ii :  the  bunerllv  otSpenser;  thesha* 
dows  <'f  Wiu>erus:  and  the  qnincunr  of'  Browne.  dc  Riclu  !i"  u.  anj'>iij>!  a  1  his  <:r».at  occupations, 
foiin'J  a  recrea'ion  in  v»t  '.eni  exercises;  and  he  was  once 
di'-<(>vf  reii  lun.pinj;  wiih  1  is  servant,  to  try  who  couid  reach 
th  '  I  i;:li«  it  Mde  of  a  wall.  I>e  Grammont.  ('bserving  Ihe 
cari!.;iai  to  be  jea.nns  ot"  his  pow.  rs,  <  tfi  red  to  jump  with 
him  ;  ai.d  m  tlse  true  stur.t  o\  a  c«  ur'Rr,  having  nade 
seme  <ti"»rts  which  ntar  y  rf ached  the  cardinal's,  conless- 
cd  tiie  caruinai  surpnssed  him.  This  was  jumpini;  like  a 
no.itii-ian  :  and  by  t'lts  means  he  is  said  to  have  ingratiated 
hiir.^t.l"  w;:li  t'.e  mii.i-''r. 

Tne  c'tat  SanuH  i  C  arke  was  fend  nf  robust  exercise; 
and  tfjis  proi'tund  !■  .:Kian  hns  been  found  leaping  over 
tables  ar<i  ciiairs  :  once  pirceivms  a  pedantic  fenow,  he 
said.  •  Now  we  nui>;  drMsf.  Lr  a  AkjI  is  coming  in.' 

Wl'.at  ri.  iculoiii  amusements  pa->'Sod  br  iween  Dean 
Swift  and  his  fri'ml-?,  in  Ire, and.  some  of  his  prodigal 
editors  have  reveai'd  to  ihe  iinl»;ic\  He  seems  lo  have 
ouMvcd  the  re!i>h  «  f  Tame,  winu  he  could  level  his  mind 
to  s.n-Ii  ;v'»petn^!  iri*1-  5. 

An  «  minent  Frenrii  i.\wAor.  conl'ned  by  his  business  to  a 
Parisian  lite,  amused  himsef  with  c(.!.eci'ni;  from  the  clas- 
sics a;l  the  passa«:es  which  relate  to  a  country  iiie.  The 
Coliecti-»n  Wv's  nubii'>h«-d  alter  his  death. 

Contem  '.alive  men  ser-m  to  be  fond  of  amusements 
which  ace-'rd  with  th'ir  habus.  The  ihooehlfui  tjame  oi 
chees,  nnd  the  trannnildehiiht  ofanj:  inir.  ha\ebeen  favoui^ 
iic  recreati''ns  with  the  ^:uc!:ouF.  Pali  v  had  him?*  If  paint- 
ed wi'h  a  rt>d  and  line  in  hi*  hand :  a  ^irarue  character- 
istic lor  thf  auihcr  of  ♦  Naiu.-al  Thfr;oc>.*  Sir  Henry 
Wottoii  cadeci  anjjling  *  idie  time  not  lOje  {-nent  :*  we  may 
suppose  thai  his  meoitatums  and  his  amusements  were 
earned  on  at  the  same  moment.' 

The  amti?ements  of  ih^  jrreat  narup?<!'au.  chanctilor 
of  Fr-^ncp,  con«i<t»  d  m  an  wA'  r'-'^nnj'^  ot"  >(ui:if. :  his!  re- 
laiatn^ns  wrre  all  iho  »*ane!"'s  <r:iVrrMr^.  'Lm*  .inje- 
nienl  ae  rcurte  est  ncn  sen)  ii«  a^^tm^n*.'  ?.  u*  <  i>.  ^»real 
nnn  ;  and  Thcmi.-.p  oo-^f  rves.  '  'rat  in  ir.e  ac^.  cl"  ihe  pa*- 
si(»t  «.  his  otily  ra?su  n  wa^  s'u  m  .' 

S  neca  cbstr\ed  en  aiuus'mcrt*  f  •  per  I'^r  !.*crary 



men,  in  regard  to  robust  exerctaea,  that  theac  are  a  tolly, 
and  indecency  to  ace  a  man  of  letters  exult  in  the  strength 
of  his  arm,  or  the  breadth  of  his  back !  such  amusements  di- 
minish the  activity  of  the  mind.  Too  much  fatigue  exhausts 
the  animal  spirits,  as  too  much  food  blunts  the  finer  facul- 
ties ;  but  elsewhere  he  allows  his  philosopher  an  occasional 
alighr  inebriation ;  an  amusement  which  was  very  preva- 
lent among  our  poets  formerly,  when  they  exclaimed, 

Fetch  me  Ben  Jonson's  skull,  and  filH  with  sack. 
Rich  88  the  same  he  drank,  when  the  whole  pack 
Of  jolly  sisters  pledgwl,  and  did  agree 
It  was  no  sin  to  be  aei  drunk  as  he ! 

Seneca  concludes  admirably,  *  whatever  be  the  amuse- 
inents  you  choose,  return  not  slowly  from  those  of  the  body 
to  (She  mind  ;  exercise  the  latter  night  and  day.  The  mind 
is  nourished  at  a  cheap  rate  ;  neither  cold  nor  heat,  nor 
age  itself  can  interrupt  this  exercise;  pive  therefore  all 
your  cares  to  a  possession  which  ameliorates  oven  in  its 
old  age ! 

An  ingenious  writer  has  observed,  that  *  a  garden  just 
accommodates  itself  to  the  perambulations  of  a  scholar, 
who  would  perhaps  rather  wish  his  w^alks  abridged  than 
extended.'  There  is  a  good  characteristic  account  of  the 
mode  in  which  the  literati  take  exercise  in  Pope's  letters. 

*  I,  like  a  poor  squirrel,  am  continually  in  motion  indeed, 
but  it  is  about  a  cage  of  three  foot ;  my  httle  excursions  are 
like  those  of  a  shopkeeper,  who  walks  every  day  a  mile  or 
two  before  his  own  door,  but  minds  his  business  all  the 
while.*  A  turn  or  two  in  a  garden  will  often  very  happily 
dose  a  fine  period,  mature  an  unripened  thought,  and  raise 
up  fresh  associations,  when  the  mind  hke  the  body  be- 
comes rigid  by  preserving  the  same  posture.  Buffon  of- 
ten quitted  the  apartment  he  studied  in,  which  was  placed 
in  the  midst  of  his  garden,  for  a  walk  in  it  -,  Evelyn  loved 

*  books  and  a  garden.' 


With  the  ancients,  it  was  undoubtedly  a  custom  to 
place  the  portraits  of  authors  before  their  works.  Mar- 
tial's 186th  epigram  of  his  fourteenth  book  in  a  mere  play 
on  words,  concerning  a  little  volume  containing  the  works 
of  Virgil,  and  which  had  his  portrait  prefixed  to  it.  The 
tolame  and  the  characters  must  have  been  very  diminu- 

*  Q.uam  brevis  immcnsnm  cepii  membrana  Maronem  ! 

*  Ipsius  Vultus  prima  tabella  gerit.' 

Martial  is  not  the  only  writer  who  takes  notice  of  the 
ancients  prefixing  portraits  to  the  works  of  authors.  Sene- 
ca, in  his  ninth  chapter  on  the  Tranquillity  of  the  Soul, 
complains  of  many  of  the  luxurious  great,  who,  like  so 
many  of  our  own  collectors,  possessed  libraries  as  they 
did  their  estate  and  equipages.  *  It  is  melancholy  to  ob- 
serve how  the  portraits  of  men  of  genius,  and  the  works  of 
their  divine  intelligence,  are  used  only  as  the  luxury  and 
the  ornaments  of  walls.' 

Pliny  has  nearly  the  same  observation,  Lib.  xxxv,  cap. 
S.  He  remarks,  tnat  the  custom  was  rather  modem  in  his 
time ;  and  attributes  to  Asinius  Pollio  the  honour  of  having 
introduced  it  into  Rome.  *  In  consecrating  a  library  with 
the  portraits  of  our  illustrious  authors,  he  has  formed,  if  I 
may  so  express  mvself,  a  republic  of  the  intellectual 
powers  of  men.'  To  the  richness  of  book-treasures,  As- 
sinius  Pollio  had  associated  a  new  source  of  pleasure,  in 
placing  the  statues  of  their  authors  amidst  them,  inspiring 
the  minds  of  the  spectators  even  by  their  eyes. 

A  taste  for  collecting  portraits,  or  busts,  was  warmly 
pursued  in  the  happier  periods  of  Rome;  for  the  celebrat- 
ed Atticus,  in  a  work  he  published  of  illustrious  Romans, 
made  it  more  delightful,  by  ornamenting  it  with  the  por- 
traits of  those  great  men ;  and  the  learned  Varro,  in  his 
biography  of  Seven  Hundred  celebrated  Men,  by  giving 
the  world  their  true  features  and  their  physiognomy,  in 
some  manner  J  aliquo  modu  imaginibua  is  Pliny's  expres- 
sion, showed  that  even  their  persons  should  not  entirely  be 
annihilated,  they  indeed.adds  Pliny,  form  a  spectacle  which 
the  gods  themselves  might  contemplate ;  (or  if  the  gods  sent 
those  heroes  to  the  earth,  it  is  Varro  who  secured  their 
immortality,  and  has  so  multiplied  and  distributed  them  in 
all  places,  that  wo  may  carry  them  about  us,  place  them 
wherever  we  choose,  and  fix  our  eyes  on  them  with  per- 
petual admiration.  A  spectacle  that  every  day  becomes 
more  varied  and  interesting,  as  new  heroes  appear,  and  as 
works  of  this  kind  are  spread  abroad. 

But  aa  printiDg  was  tmknown  to  the  ancients  (though 

damping  on  impreuion  was  daily  practised,  and  in  fact, 
they  possessed  the  art  of  printing  without  being  aware  of 
ii )  how  were  these  portraits  of  Varro  so  easily  propagated  ? 
)i  copied  with  a  pen,  their  correctness  was  in  some  danger, 
and  their  diffusion  must  have  been  very  confined  and  slow ; 
perhaps  they  were  outlines.  This  passage  of  Pliny's  ex- 
cites curiosity,  which  it  may  be  difficult  to  satisfy. 

Amongst  the  various  advantages  which  attend  a  collec- 
tion of  portraits  of  illustrious  characters,  Oldys  observes, 
that  they  not  only  serve  as  matters  of  entertainment  and 
curiosity,  and  preserve  the  different  modes  or  habits  of  the 
fashions  of  the  time,  but  become  of  infinite  importance,  by 
settling  our  floating  ideas  upon  the  true  features  of  famous 
persons :  they  fix  the  chronological  particulars  of  their  birth 
age,  death,  sometimes  with  short  characters  of  them,  be- 
sides the  names  of  painter,  designer,  and  engraver.  It  is 
thus  a  single  print,  oy  the  hand  of  a  skilful  artist,  may  be- 
come a  varieJ  banquet.  To  this  Granger  adds,  that  in  a 
collection  of  engraved  portraits,  the  contents  of  many  gal- 
leries are  reduced  into  the  narrow  compass  of  a  few  vol- 
umes ;  and  the  portraits  of  eminent  persons,  who  distin- 
guished themselves  for  a  long  succession  of  ages,  may  be 
turned  over  in  a  few  hours. 

*  Another  advantage,  *  Granger  continues,  <  attending 
such  an  assemblage  is,  that  the  methodical  arrangement 
has  a  surprising  effect  upon  the  memory.  We  see  the 
celebrated  contemporaries  of  every  age  almost  at  one 
view  ;  and  the  mind  is  insensibly  led  to  the  history  of  that 
period.  I  may  add  to  these,  an  important  circumstance, 
which  is  the  power  that  such  a  collection  will  have  in 
awakeninf^  genius.      A  skilful  preceptor  will  presently 

Eerccive  the  true  bent  of  the  temper  of  his  pupil,  by  his 
eino  struck  with  a  Blake  or  a  Boyle,  a  Hyde  or  a  Mil- 

A  circumstance  in  the  life  of  Cicero  confirms  this  obser- 
vation. Atticus  had  a  gallery  adorned  with  the  images  of 
portraits  of  the  great  men  of  Rome,  under  each  of  which 
Cornelius  Nepos  says,  he  had  iteverally  described  their 
principal  acts  and  honours  in  a  few  concise  verses  of  his 
own  composition.  It  was  by  the  contemplation  of  two  of 
these  portraits  (Old  Brutus  and  a  venerable  relative  in  one 
picture)  that  Cicero  seems  to  have  incited  Brutus  by  the 
example  of  these  his  great  ancestors,to  dissolve  the  tyranny 
of  Ca?sar.  Fairfax  made  a  collection  of  engraved  por- 
traits of  warriors.  A  story  much  in  favour  of  portrait-col- 
lectors is  that  of  the  Alhrnian  courtezan,  who,  in  the  midst 
of  a  riotous  banquet  with  her  lovers,  accidentally  casting 
her  eye  on  the  portrait  of  a  philosopher  that  hung  opposite 
to  her  seat,  the  happy  character  of  temperance  and  virtue 
struck  her  with  so  lively  an  image  of  her  own  unworthiness, 
that  she  instantly  quitted  the  room,  and  retired  for  ever 
fit>m  the  scene  of  debauchery.  The  orientalists  have  felt 
the  same  charm  in  their  pictured  memorial ;  for  '  the  im- 
perial Akber,'  says  Mr  Forbes,  in  his  Oriental  Memoirs, 
'  employed  artists  to  make  portraits  of  all  the  principal 
omrahs  and  oflicers  in  his  court ;  they  were  bound  together 
in  a  thick  volume,  wherein,  as  the  Ayeen  Akbery  or  tho 
Institutes  of  Akber  express  it, '  The  Past  are  kept  in  live- 
ly remembrance  :  and  the  Present  are  insureo  immor- 

Leonard  Aretin,  when  young  and  in  prison,  found  a  por- 
trait of  Petrarch,  on  which  his  eyes  were  perpetually  fixed ; 
and  this  sort  of  contemplation  inflamed  the  desire  of  imita- 
ting this  great  man  :  Buffon  hung  the  poitrait  of  Newton 
before  his  writing-table. 

On  this  subject,  how  sublimely  Tacitus  expresses  him- 
self at  the  close  of  his  admired  biography  of  Agricola.  <  I 
do  not  mean  to  censure  the  custom  of  preserving  in  brass  or 
marble,  the  shape  and  stature  of  eminent  men  ;  but  busts 
and  statues,  like  their  originals,  are  frail  and  perishable. 
The  soul  is  formed  of  finer  elements,  its  inward  form  is  not 
to  be  expressed  by  the  hand  of  an  artist  with  unconscions 
matter ;  our  manners  and  our  morals  may  in  some  degreo 
trace  the  resemblance.  All  of  Agricola  that  gained  our 
love  and  raised  our  admiration  still  subsists,  and  ever  will 
subsist,  preserved  in  the  minds  of  men,  the  register  of  ages 
and  the  records  of  fame.' 

What  is  more  agreeable  to  the  curiosity  of  the  mind  and 
the  eye  than  portraits  of  great  characters  ?  An  old  philos- 
opher whom  Marville  invited  to  sec  a  collection  of  land- 
scapes by  a  celebrated  artist,  replied,  *  landscapes  I  prefer 
seeing  in  the  country  itself,  but  I  am  fond  of  contemplating 
the  pictures  of  illustrious  men.'  This  opinion  has  some 
truth  :  Lord  Orford  preferring  an  interesting  portrait,  to 
either  landscape  or  historical  painting.    <A  landscape. 



■aid  he,  <  however  excellent  in  its  distributions  of  wood, 
and  water,  and  buildings,  leaves  not  one  tract  in  the  mem- 
ory ;  historical  painting  is  perpetually  false  in  a  variety 
ofways,  in  the;costume,  the  grouping,  the  portraits,  and  is 
nothing  more  than  fabulous  painting ;  but  the  real  portrait 
is  truth  itself;  and  calls  up  so  many  collateral  ideas  as  to 
fill  an  intelligent  mind  more  than  any  other  species. 

Marvelle  justly  reprehends  the  fastidious  feelings  of  those 
ingenious  men  who  have  resisted  the  solicitations  of  the 
artist,  to  sit  for  their  portraits.  In  them  it  is  sometimes  as 
much  pride  as  it  is  vanity  in  those  who  are  less  difficult  in 
this  respect.  Of  Gray,  Shenstone,  Fielding  and  Akenside, 
we  have  no  heads  for  which  they  sat ;  a  circumstance  re- 
gretted by  their  admirers,  and  by  physiognomists. 

To  an  arranged  collection  of  Portraits,  we  owe  seve- 
ral interesting  works.  Granger's  justly  esteemed  volumes 
originated  in  such  a  collection.  Perrault'  Eloge*  of  *■  the 
illustrious  men  of  the  seventeentli  century,*  were  drawn  up 
to  accompany  the  engraved  portraits  of  the  most  celebrated 
characters  of  the  age,  which  a  fervent  lover  of  the  fine  arts 
and  literature  had  had  engraved  as  an  elegant  tribute  to  the 
fame  of  those  great  men.  They  are  confined  to  his  nation, 
as  Granger's  to  ours.  The  parent  of  this  race  of  books 
may  perhaps  bo  the  Eulogiums  of  Paulus  Jovius,  which 
originated  in  a  beautiful  Cabinet,  whose  situation  he  has 
described  with  all  its  amenity. 

Paulus  Jovius  had  a  country  house,  in  an  insular  situa^ 
lion  of  a  most  romanuc  aspect.  It  was  built  on  the  ruins  of 
the  villa  of  Pliny ;  and  in  his  time  the  foundations  were  still 
to  be  traced.  When  the  surrounding  lake  was  calm,  in  its 
lucid  bosom  were  still  viewed  sculptured  marbles.the  trunks 
of  columns,  and  the  fragments  of  those  pyramids  which  had 
once  adorned  the  residence  of  the  friend  of  Trajan.  Jovius 
was  an  enthusiast  of  literary  leisure ;  an  historian,  with 
the  imagination  of  a  poet;  a  bishop  nourished  on  the  sweet 
fictions  of  pagan  mythology.  His  pen  colours  like  a  pen- 
cil. He  paints  rapturously,  his  gardens  bathed  by  the  wa- 
ters of  the  lake,  the  shade  and  freshness  of  bis  woods,  his 
green  hills,  his  sparkling  fountains,  the  deep  silence,  and 
the  calm  of  solitude.  He  describes  a  statue  raised  in  his 
gardens  to  Nature ;  in  his  hall  an  Apollo  presided  with 
his  lyre,  and  the  Muses  with  their  attributes;  his  library 
was  guarded  by  Mercury,  and  an  apartment  devoted  to 
the  three  Graces  was  embellished  by  Doric  columns,  and 
paintings  of  the  most  pleasing  kind.  Such  was  the  interi- 
or !  Without,  the  pure  and  transparent  lake  spread  its 
broad  mirror,  rolled  its  voluminous  windings,  while  the 
banks  were  richly  covered  with  olives  and  laurels,  and  in 
the  distance,  towns,  promontories,  hills  rising  in  an  amphi- 
theatre blushing  with  vines,  and  the  elevations  of  the  Alps 
covered  with  woods  and  pasturage,  and  sprinkled  with  herds 
and  flocks. 

In  the  centre  of  this  enchanting  habitation  stood  the 
Cabinet,  where  Paulus  Jovius  had  collected,  at  great  cost, 
the  Portraits  of  the  celebrated  men  of  the  fourteenth  and 
two  succeeding  centuries.  The  daily  view  of  them  ani- 
mated his  mind  to  compose  their  eulogiums.  These  are 
still  curious ;  both  for  the  f«cts  they  preserve,  and  the  happy 
conciseness  with  which  Jovius  delineates  a  character.  He 
had  collected  these  portraits  as  others  from  a  collection  of 
natural  history ;  and  he  pursued  in  their  characters  what 
others  do  m  their  experiments. 

One  caution  in  collecting  portnits  must  not  be  forgotten : 
it  respects  their  authenticity.  We  have  too  many  suppo- 
sititious heads,  and  ideal  personages.  Conrade  ab  Uffen- 
bach,  who  seems  to  have  been  the  first  collector  who  pro- 
jected a  methodical  arran^^ement,  condemned  those  por- 
traits which  were  not  genume,  as  fit  only  fur  the  amuse- 
ments of  children.  The  painter  does  not  always  give  a 
correct  likeness,  or  the  engraver  misses  it  in  his  copy. 
The  faithful  Vertue  refused  to  engrave  fur  Houbraken's 
set,  because  they  did  not  authenticate  their  originals ;  and 
some  of  these  are  spurious.  Busts  are  not  so  liable  to 
these  accidents.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  men  of  genius 
have  not  been  careful  to  transmit  their  own  portraits  to 
their  admirers ;  it  forms  a  part  of  their  character :  a  false 
delicacy  has  interfered.  Erasmus  did  not  hke  to  have  his 
own  diminutive  person  sent  down  to  posterity,  but  Holbein 
was  always  affectionately  painting  his  friends ;  Baylo  and 
others  have  refused  ;  but  Motesquleu  once  sat  to  Dacier 
ader  repeating  denials,  won  over  by  the  ingenious  argu- 
ment of  the  artist ;  <  Do  you  not  think,'  said  Dacier,  <  that 
there  is  as  much  pride  in  refusing  my  ofier  as  in  accept- 
ing it?  ^ 


The  literary  treasures  of  antiquity  havo  miSttd  fronr 
the  malice  of  men,  as  well  as  thai  of  lime.  It  ts  remark- 
able that  conquerors,  in  the  moment  of  viciorv,  or  in  tho 
unsparing  devastations  of  their  rage,  have  not  been  satufi- 
ed  with  destroying  men,  but  have  even  carried  their  von* 
geance  to  booki. 

Ancient  history  records  how  the  Persians,  from  hatred 
of  the  religion  or  the  Phoenicians  and  the  Egyptians,  de- 
stroyed their  books,  of  which  Eusebius  notices  they  po». 
sessed  a  great  number.  A  remarkable  anecdote  is  records 
ed  of  the  Grecian  libraries ;  one  at  Gnidus  was  burnt  by 
the  sect  of  Hippocrates,  because  the  Gnidians  refuted  to 
follow  tlie  doctrines  of  their  master.  If  the  followers  «C 
Hippocrates  formed  the  majority,  was  it  not  very  unortho- 
dox  m  the  Gnidians  to  prefer  taking  physic  their  own  way  ^ 
The  anecdote  may  be  suspicious,  but  faction  has  often  ax^ 
nihilatcd  books. 

The  Romans  burnt  the  books  of  the  Jews,  of  the  Chris- 
tians, and  the  philosophers ;  the  Jews  burnt  the  books  of  the 
Christians  and  the  Pagans ;  and  the  Christians  burnt  ffaa 
books  of  the  Pagans  and  the  Jews.  The  greater  part  of  iha 
books  of  Ongen  and  other  heretics  were  continually  burnt  by 
the  orthodox  party.  Gibbon  pathetically  describes  the  empty 
library  of  Alexandria  after  the  Christians  had  destroyed  it. 
*  The  valuable  library  of  Alexandria  was  pillaged  or  de- 
stroyed ;  and  near  twenty  years  aficrwards  the  appearance 
of  the  empty  shelves  excited  the  regret  and  indignauon  d 
every  spectator,  whose  mind  was  not  totally  darkened  by 
religious  prejudice.  The  compositions  of  ancient  genius,  so 
many  of  which  have  irretrievably  perished,  tni^ht  surely 
have  been  excepted  from  the  wreck  of  idolatry,  for  the 
amusement  and  mstruclion  of  succeeding  ages  and  cither 
the  seal  or  avarice  of  the  archbishop  might  havo  been  sati- 
ated with  the  richest  spoils  which  were  the  rewards  of  his 

The  curious  narrative  of  Niretas  Choniates  of  the  rava- 
ges committed  by  the  Christians  of  the  ihirternih  century  in 
Constantinople,  was  fraudulently  suppressed  in  the  printed 
editions  ;  it  has  been  preserved* by  Dr  Clarke.  We  can- 
not follow  this  painful  history,  step  by  step,  of  the  pathetic 
Nicetas,  without  indignant  feelings.  Dr  Clarke  observes, 
that  the  Turks  have  committetl  fewer  injuries  to  die  works 
of  art  than  the  barbarous  Christians  of  that  age. 

The  reading  of  the  Jewish  Talmud  has  bcc-n  furbidden 
by  vanous  edicts,  of  the  Emppror  Justinian,  of  many  of  the 
French  and  Spanish  kings,  and  numbers  of  popes.  All 
the  copies  were  ordered  to  be  burnt ;  the  intrepid  perseve- 
rance of  the  Jews  theimiclves  preserved  that  work  from  an- 
nihilation. In  1666  twelve  thousand  copirs  were  thrown 
into  the  flames  at  Cremona.  John  Reuithlin  interfered  to 
stop  this  universal  destruction  of  Talmuds  :  for  whirh  ho 
became  hated  by  the  monks,  and  condemned  bv  the  Elec- 
tor of  Mentz,  but  appealing  to  Rome,  the  prosecution  was 
stopped;  and  the  traditions  of  the  Jews  were  eoastd;red 
as  not  necessary  to  be  destroyed. 

Conquerors  at  first  destroy  with  the  rashest  xeal  the  na- 
tional records  of  the  conquered  people  ;  hence  it  is  that  the 
Irish  deplore  the  irreparable  losses  of  their  most  ancient 
national  memorials, which  their  invaders  have  been  too  suc- 
cessful in  annihilating.  The  same  event  occurred  in  (he 
conquest  of  Mexico ;  and  the  interesting  history  of  the 
New  World  must  ever  remain  imperfect  in  consequence 
of  the  unfortunate  success  of  the  first  roissionanvs  ;  who 
too  late  became  sensible  of  rheir  error.  Clavitfrro,  the 
most  authentic  historian  of  Mexico,  conlinuativ  lamenU 
this  afleciing  loss.  Every  thing  in  that  country  had  bfen 
painted,  and  painters  abounded  ihert*,  as  scribes  in  Eu- 
rope. The  first  missionaries,  suspicious  that  suporsiition 
was  mued  with  all  their  paintings,  attacked  the  chief  school 
of  these  artists,  and  collecting,  in  the  market-place,  a 
little  mountain  of  these  precious  records,  they  set  fire  to 
It;  and  buried  in  the  ashes  the  memory  of  many  most  ia- 
tercsling  events.  Afterwards  sensible  of  their  error,  they 
tried  to  collect  information  from  the  mouths  of  the  Indians ; 
but  the  Indians  were  indignantly  silent ;  when  ihev  attempt- 
ed to  collect  the  remains  of  these  painted  histories,  the 
patriotic  Mexican  usually  buried  in  coocealraent  the  n^ 
maining  records  of  his  country. 

The  story  of  the  Caliph  Omar  proclaiming  throiisboot 
the  Kingdom,  at  the  takin?  of  Akxandria,  that  the  Koraia 
contained  everv  thing  which  was  useful  to  believe  and  to 
know,  and  ho  thercfon>,  ordered  all  the  books  in  the  Alex- 
andrian Ubrary  to  be  dislribuicd  to  ihe  masters  of  the  baths 



amounting  to  4000,  to  be  used  in  heating  their  stoves  dur- 
ing a  period  of  six  months,  modem  paradox  would  attempt 
to  deny.  But  the  tale  would  not  be  singular  even  were  it 
true  :  it  perfectly  suits  the  character  of  a  bigot ;  a  barba- 
rian, and  a  blockhead.  A  similar  event  happened  in  Per- 
sia. When  Abdoolah,  who  in  the  third  century  of  the 
Mohammedan  era  governed  Khorasan,  was  presented  at 
Nishapoor  with  a  lis,  which  was  shown  as  a  literary  cu- 
riosity, he  asked  the  title  of  it,  and  was  told  it  was  the  tale 
of  W  araick  and  Oozra ;  composied  by  the  ereat  poet,  No- 
shirwan.  On  this  Abdoolah  observed,  that  those  of  his 
country  and  faith  had  nothing  to  do  with  any  other  book 
than  the  Koran  ;  and  that  the  composition  of  an  idolator 
must  be  detestable !  Not  only  be  declined  accepting  it,  but 
ordered  it  to  be  burnt  in  his  presence ;  and  further  issued 
a  proclamation  commanding  all  Persian  iiss,  which  should 
be  found  within  the  circle  of  his  government  to  be  burned! 
Much  of  the  most  ancient  poetry  of  the  Persians  perished 
by  this  fanatical  edict. 

Cardinal  Ximcnes  seems  to  have  retaliated  a  little  on 
the  Saracens ;  for  at  the  taking  of  Granada  he  condemned 
to  the  flames  five  thousand  Korans. 

The  following  anecdote  respecting  a  Spanish  missal, 
called  St  Isidore's,  is  not  incurious  ;  hard  fighting  saved  it 
from  destructioo.  In  the  Moorish  wars,  allthese  missals 
had  been  destroyed  excepting  those  in  the  city  of  Toledo. 
There  in  six  churches  the  Christians  were  allowed  the  freo 
exercise  of  their  religion.  When  the  Moors  were  expelled 
several  centuries  afterwards  from  Toledo, Alphonsus  iheV I 
ordered  the  Roman  missal  to  be  used  in  those  churches  ; 
but  the  people  of  Toledo  insisted  on  having  their  own  pre- 
ferred, as  bcinff  drawn  up  by  the  most  ancient  bishops,  and 
revised  by  St  Isidore.  It  had  been  used  by  a  great  number 
of  saints,  and  having  been  preserved  pure  during  Moorish 
tiroes,  it  seemed  to  them  that  Alphonsus  was  more  tyran- 
nical than  the  Turks.  The  contest  between  the  Roman 
and  the  Toletan  missals  came  to  that  height,  that  at  length 
It  was  determined  to  decide  their  fate  by  single  combat ; 
the  champion  of  the  Toletan  missal  felled  by  one  blow  tlic 
knight  of  the  Roman  missal.  Alphonsus  still  considered 
this  battle  as  merely  the  effect  of  the  heavy  arm  of  the 
doughty  Toletan,  anid  ordered  a  fast  to  be  proclaimed,  and 
a  great  fire  to  be  prepared,  into  which,  after  his  majesty 
and  the  people  had  ioined  in  prayer  for  heavenly  assistance 
in  thisordeal,both  the  rivals  (not  the  men,  but  the  missals) 
were  thrown  into  the  flames — again  St  Isidore's  missal 
triumphed,  and  this  iron  book  was  then  allowed  to  be  or- 
thodox by  Alphonsus,  and  the  got)d  people  of  Toledo  were 
allowed  to  say  their  prayers  as  they  bad  long  been  used 
to  do.  However,  the  copies  of  this  missal  at  length  be- 
came very  scarce ;  for  now  when  no  one  opposed  the  read- 
ing of  St  Isidore's  missal,  none  cared  to  use  it.  Cardinal 
Ximencs  found  it  so  difficult  to  obtain  a  copy,  that  ho 
printed  a  large  impression,  and  built  a  chapel,  consecrated 
to  St.  Isidore,  that  this  service  might  be  oaily  chanted  as 
it  had  been  by  the  ancient  Christians. 

The  works  of  the  ancients  were  frequently  destroyed  at 
the  instigation  of  the  monks.  They  appear  sometimes  to 
have  mutilated  them,  for  passages  have  not  come  down  to 
U8,  which  once  evidently  existed;  and  occasionally  their 
interpolations  and  other  forgeries  formed  a  destruction  in  a 
new  shape,  by  additions  to  the  originals.  They  were  in- 
defatigable in  erasing  the  best  works  of  the  most  eminent 
Greek  and  Latin  authors,  in  order  to  transcribe  their  ridi- 
culous lives  of  saints  on  the  obliterated  vellum.  One  of  the 
books  of  Livv  is  in  the  Vatican  most  painfully  defaced  by 
some  pious  father  for  the  purposo  of  writing  on  it  some 
missal  or  psalter,  and  there  have  been  recently  others  dis- 
covered in  the  same  state.  Inflamed  with  the  blindest  zeal 
against  every  thine  pagan,  Pope  Gregory  VII  ordered  that 
the  library  of  the  Palaniine  Apollo,  a  treasury  of  literature 
formed  by  successive  emperors,  should  be  committed  to 
the  flames!  He  issued  this  order  under  the  notion  of  con- 
fining the  attention  of  the  clergy  to  the  holy  scriptures ! 
From  that  time  all  ancient  learning  which  was  not  sanc- 
tioned by  the  authority  of  the  church,  has  been  emphati- 
callv  distinguished  as  pro/one— in  opposition  to  »aered. 
This  pope  is  said  to  have  burnt  the  works  of  Varro,  the 
learned  Roman,  that  St  Austin  should  escape  from  the 
charge  of  plagiarism,  being  deeply  indebted  to  Varro  for 
much  of  his  great  work  the  *  City  of  God.' 

The  jesuits,sent  by  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  to  proscribe 
Lutheranism  from  Bohemia,  converted  that  flourishing 
kingdom  mmparatit  ely  into  a  desert,  from  which  it  never 
recovered     convinced  that  an  enlightened  people  could 

never  be  long  subservient  to  a  tyrant,  they  struck  one  fatal 
blow  at  the  national  literature :  every  book  they  condemned 
was  destroyed,  even  those  of  antiquity :  the  annals  of  the 
nation  were  forbidden  to  be  read,  and  writers  were  not 
permitted  even  to  compose  on  subjects  of  Bohemian  litera- 
ture. The  mother  tongue  was  held  out  as  a  mark  of  vul- 
gar obscurity,  and  domiciliary  visits  were  made  for  the 
purpose  of  inspecting  books  and  the  libraries  of  the  Bohe- 
mians. With  their  books  and  their  language  they  lost 
their  national  character  and  their  independence. 

The  destruction  of  libraries  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII, 
at  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries  is  wept  over  by  John 
Bale ;  those  who  purchased  the  religious  nouses  took  the 
libraries  as  part  of  the  booty,  with  which  they  scoured 
their  furniture,  or  sold  the  books  as  waste  paper,  or  sent 
them  abroad  in  ship-loads  to  foreign  bookbinders. 

The  fear  of  destruction  induced  many  to  hide  manu- 
icripts  under  ground,  and  in  old  walls.  At  the  Reformat 
tion  popular  rage  exhausted  itself  on  illuminated  books,  or 
MSB  that  had  red  letters  in  the  tilJe-pa^e ;  any  work  which 
was  decorated  was  sure  to  be  thrown  into  the  flames  as  a 
superstitious  one.  Red  letters  and  embellished  figure! 
were  such  marks  of  being  papistical  and  diabolical.  We 
still  find  such  volumes  mutilated  of  the  gilt  letters  and  ele- 

Sant  flourishes,  hut  the  greater  number  were  annihilated, 
fany  have  been  found  under  ground,  being  forgotten; 
what  escaped  the  flames  were  obliterated  by  the  damp : 
such  is  the  deplorable  fate  of  books  during  a  persecution ! 

The  puritans  burnt  every  thing  they  found  which  bore 
the  vestige  of  popish  origin.  We  have  on  record  many 
curious  accounts  of  their  pious  depredation«,of  their  maim- 
ing images  and  erasing  pictures.  The  heroic  expeditions 
of  one  Dowsing  are  journalised  by  himself;  a  fanatical 
Ciuixolte,  to  whose  intrepid  arm  many  of  our  noselesa 
saints  sculptured  on  our  cathedrals  owe  their  misfortunes. 

The  following  are  some  details  from  the  diary  of  this  re- 
doubtable Goth,  during  his  rage  for  reformation.  His  en- 
tries are  expressed  with  a  laconic  conciseness,and  it  would 
seem  with  a  little  dry  humour.  '  At  Stmbury,  we  brake 
do\vn  ten  mighty  great  angels  in  glass.  At  Barham,  brake 
down  the  twelve  apostles  in  the  chancel,  and  six  supersti- 
tious pictures  more  there ;  and  eight  in  the  church,  one  a 
lamb  with  across  {])  on  the  back  ;  and  di);gcd  down  the 
steps  and  took  up  tour  superstitious  inscriptions  in  brass,' 
&c.  *  Iduly  BruceU  houne^  the  chaple,  a  picture  of  God 
tho  Father,  of  the  Trinity,  of  Christ,  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  the  cloven  tongues,*  which  we  gave  orderr.  to  take 
down,  and  the  lady  promised  to  do  it.*  At  another  place 
they  *  brake  six  hundred  superstitious  pictures,  eight  Holy 
Ghosts,  and  three  of  the  Son.'  And  in  this  manner  be 
and  his  deputies  scoured  one  hundred  and  fif^y  parishes ! 
It  has  been  humourously  conjectured,  that  from  this  riJth- 
less  devastator  originated  the  phrase  to  give  a  Dmoatng. 
Bishop  Hall  saved  the  windows  of  his  chaple  at  Norwich 
from  oestructton,  by  taking  out  tho  heads  of  the  fieures, 
and  this  accounts  for  the  many  faces  in  church  windows 
which  we  see  supplied  in  white  glass. 

In  the  various  civil  wars  in  our  country,  numerous  li- 
braries have  suffered  both  in  mss  and  printed  books.  *  I 
dare  maintain,'  says  Fuller,  *  that  the  wars  betwixt  York 
and  Lancaster,  which  lasted  sixty  years,  were  not  so  de- 
structive as  our  modem  wars  in  six  years.*  He  alludes  to 
the  parliamentary  feuds  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.  *  For 
during  the  former  their  differences  agreed  in  the  wtme  re-' 
Ugion^  impressing  them  with  reverence  to  all  sacred  muni- 
ments; whilst  our  ctviZ  toors,  founded  in /action  and  variety 
of  pretended  retigioru,  exposed  all  naked  church  records  a 
prey  to  armed  violence  ;  a  sad  vacuum,  which  will  be  sen- 
sible in  our  Engliik  Matarie.* 

The  scarcity  of  books  concerning  the  catholics  in  this^ 
country  is  owing  to  two  circumstances ;  the  destruction  of 
catholic  books  and  documents  by  the  pursuivants  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  I,  and  the  destruction  of  them  by  the 
catholics  themselves,  from  the  dread  of  the  heavy  penal- 
ties in  which  their  mere  possession  involved  their  owners. 

When  it  was  proposed  to  the  Great  Gustavus  of  Swe- 
den to  destroy  the  palace  of  the  Dukes  of  Havana,  that 
hero  nobly  refused,  observing,  *  Let  us  not  copy  the  ex- 
ample of  our  unlettered  ancestors,  who  by  waging  war 
against  every  production  of  genius,  have  rendered  the 
name  of  Goth  universally  proverbial  of  the  rudest  state  of 

Even  the  civilization  of  th«  eighteenth  century  could  nni 
preserve  from  the  savafl"*  and  dj^strurtivo  furv  of  n  disor- 
derly mob,  in  the  moil  p  »!i5he:l  ciiy  of  Knropp.tln*  ra!u3b',o 



M88  of  the  ^reat  Eir!  M&nsficlJ,  which  were  midly  co:»-  ^ 
Bi«ned  to  the  flarn«is  durinc;  ih^  riots  of  1780.  ^ 

in  the  year  1599,  the  hall  of  the  slaJionsr*  underwent 
as  great  a  p'lr^^au  m  as  wa.3  carrioJ  on  in  0)n  Quixote's 
library.  Warion  gives  a  hsl  of  ih:?  bsst  wrifera  who  were 
ordered  f>-  im-nediate  conflafra'.ijn  by  the  p'elates  VVhit- 
gifl  and  Bancr  iCi^  urged  by  the  pu'-uanic  and  calvinistic 
factioni.  Like  thieves  and  outla.vj,  they  were  ordered  to 
he  txken  wheresoe'yer  they  may  be  found. ~-^  It  was  al*o  de- 
creed ihat  no  saur^s  or  epigrani  sbauld  be  printed  for  the 
future.  No  plays  were  lo  be  printed  without  the  inspec- 
tion an!  pertnissi'^T  of  the  archbi-shop  of  Casiterbury  and 
the  bishop  of  Loaion;  n>r  any  English  history es,  l  sup- 
pose ntvels  anJ  romances,  wiihjut  the  sanction  of  the 
privy  CDuncil.  Any  pieces  of  this  nature,  aniicensed,  or 
now  at  large  and  wanJ^ritig  abroad,  were  to  be  dia^'?nily 
sought,  recilbd,  and  delivered  over  to  ihe  ecclesiasiioal 
arm  at  London-honse.' 

At  a  later  peri>d,  and  by  anopp-«si;*»  party,  amon*  oth^r 
extravagant  mition?  made  in  the  parliament,  one  was  lo 
destroy  all  the  records  in  the  tjwer,  ani  to  settle  iho  na- 
tion uQ  a  new  foun iarion.  Tnc  very  samz  princinie  was 
attempted  to  bs  acted  on  in  the  French  revolu'ton  by  the 
Inia  *  sina-culottes.*  With  us  Sir  Ma'thew  H.i!e  showed 
the  wcaknes)  of  the  proposal,  and  while  he  drew  on  his 
side  'al  sober  persons,  stopped  even  tho  mouths  of  the 
frantic  pc  jple  thcmselvee*.' 

To  deizend  to  the  losses  incurred  by  individuals,  who«e 
nim^  ou^nt  to  have  served  as  an  amulet  to  charm  away 
lh9  demxis  of  literary  dsstruction.  One  of  tho  most  in- 
teresting is  the  fate  of  Arisio'Je's  library ;  he  who  by  a 
Greek  term  was  first  saluied  as  a  coliec'or  of  b3.>ks !  his 
works  have  come  down  to  us  a-^,  but  not  with- 
out irrepirab.e  inj'iries,  and  with  no  slijht  "U-jpi'Min  re- 
ipec'.in/  thc.r  au'.ienlici'y.  The  story  is  lo'.H  by  S;rahiin 
hu  thirieenih  boVii.  Tne  b^oks  of  Aristotle  citii  i  from 
his  Tn»»op!irast»H  to  Xelcus,  %vhT<e  p>^ti'ritv,  an 
iUitera'.e  race,  k-.-p:  ihom  lockel  up  wiitioui  usn^  fi?:n, 
buriei  i.i  the  ei.rt'il  A;j;!iJon,  a  curi  j-.m  ('l>  Ice  or, 
purchased  thcra,  b'lL  finlm^  the  Mss  i^j■lr.^]  by  a^e  an  i 
mJi'tur**,  cooj'^'.'rnra'.'.y  sii>;iied  their  defiri«'ri-:i«g.  I:  is 
imoosssje  to  knoiv  h'»w  far  Ane/.ion  has  co'ruotrd  an  i 
obJCU''*i  the  t**\t.  B-Jt  the  micucfdij  n:it  en  1  h^re ; 
when  Si'"  a  at  n-.'  Takin»  of  Afhensbroujiithem  to  R-jnc, 
he  coisijned  fiiem  tj  ih-j  rare  oi  on-*  Tyrannn,  a  carn- 
mariai,  iv  uc-n  >!i»-'l  sc.-jbes  to  ooy  thjm;  he  ^iifTci 
tism  :o  pas?  t^iDu^h  his  h.viia  wiU  )n:  orre;-::  >ri--,  a-iJ 
toy<  »."ea"  \r:'  vvj-'i  tl.-^m;  l!ie  w^rls  of  ttri'-.ibi  ri'o 
«tro:ij.  'loq-j*.  T\TannlT:»'?m  frrirrni'  li?  vjn-n 
atq'iii  (  It  fani  cs')  in'-^-ci lisis.  a'l'  riv<rr/i<rc.'  H**  ji/<.'< 
it  lodi^i  a-J  a  re;)>r; ;  o  ir  t:ij:  lac:  s^'-'m?  c'*  i  bv  ih  • 
stale  in  \v-i-:;i  wt  till  t!ics3  w-irK- ;  Averrjes  d' 'i  \-- i 
that  fi'?  r.-a  i  Ari«.->'!'?  r>r'v  tr.nes  ovt  b  "or."!  I;  i  s  !  v?"«-  i  •  1 
in  periV  "  y  'ni  T-i'aniini  h  n;  he  p-cvn  Is  he  d.  I  v.  'i  • 
one  anl  t>r  !  ttn  tim  •  I  Aai  lo  prove  t'l.j  ha;  p'.I/i-'i'i 
five  f  ».i  >«  o'c  >.Tiinentary. 

We  hive  I  >-.t  mi"!  va'uaMc  li'era'iirc  by  tho  il'irerat<« 
orma  i>:r.  IT  d'-^cfr.dants  )f  ,ca'-n'*d  a'l  J  inz^nou-j  per.;  vm. 
Many  «»f  Lii/  Mary  Wortioy  M^o'ij-j's  iet'ors  have 
bae.i  d-f.sTiyi,  I  a-n  n^i-m-'J.  bv  her  m  >th'*r,  wh  >  -iid  uv 
approve  ::iat  stc  should  dn^race  her  fanvly  bv  a  i  {  :i »  f.>  it 
literary  h>n5M«'3:  an  I  a  fo-.v  of  h^r  h  r*t  le*frr«5,  rf.'cv.'irlv 
publnfiel,  w»re  fvini  bti-. 'd  in  an  oM  I'lmilv  cS-^f.  It 
wou  d  havj  mortified  n'»r  laivshio's  mTh«»r.  ti  have  heard 
thai  her  dx'j^Ter  wasih^  S^vijne  of  Britam. 

Al  ih"  d^.*a'h  of  'h?  W^irn**!  Peiresc,  a  chamber  in  hi? 
house  ft  lei  with  lettfr<  from  the  m  )<l  eminent  scholars  of 
the  ajt'  WIS  dn^ivfr-:*! :  ti?  l-arn-^l  in  liurop-*  had  ad- 
dressed Pei-e?-;  in  'H^r  d'.Ti:i''i'?',  who  was  h  'n^e  ci'?-] 
*  Tho  Avo'.ai  j»''nera'>'  or"  the  r»*Tih.i'  of  le'*vs.  Si-h 
was  the  di*:)  »«iii.;r.  «if  his  ni**."'?,  tnat  alhoMh  r^rnati-dlv 
entrea<eJ  to  p-^rmit  th«m  to  b»»  p'lh  ish  .'d.  «:li-  pr'^t^-r-,  1  to 
regale  h-rse  f  o;;ca^ina'iv  with  b  irnin^  these  icarnoi  en:s- 
tles  to  save  the  expen*?  oftir'^-.vo)]! 

The  M6S  o"  Lrjom-Jj  da  Vm'-i  hav?  cq-ia'dv  suffered 
from  his  re.atsvof.  AVnon  a  ciirious  co'.loctcir  discovrM 
some,  he  jfjo-Toislv  b-o'jjht  th-m  to  a  ue^"  mdant  of  ih* 

Srcal  painter,  wnooldiyohsarvod,  that  'h^had  a  ijreat 
eal  more  in  the  jarre',  wn:ch  ha  J  lam  there  for  many 
years,  if  th  ?  raw  liai  n  r,  d-strovd  them  "  Nothing  which 
ibis  ^reat  artist  wrote  but  shiwed  an  inventive  senuH. 

Men  a  7  •  observes  on  a  friend  havinir  had  his  librarv  de- 
stroyed by  fi'e,  in  w:»i:'i  several  valuable  mss  had  pertsh- 
od,  that  S'ich  a  1>J"«  is  on*  o<*  the  srf'are.-st  misfortunes  that 
can  happen  to  a  min  of  letters.     Thn  g-nt'eman  after. 

wards  consoled  himself  with  composing  a  little  treatbe  Ih 
Bihiiotheca:  ineendio.  It  must  have  been  sufficiently  cu- 
rious. Even  in  the  present  day,  men  of  letters  are  sub- 
ject to  similar  misfortunes;  for  though  the  fire-offices  will 
msure  books,  they  will  not  allow  authors  to  value  ibeir 
own  manuscripts ! 

A  fire  in  ihc  Gottonian  library  shrivelled  and  destroyed 
many  Anglo-Saxon  Mss,  a  loss  now  irreparable.  The  an- 
tiquary is  doomed  to  spell  hard  and  hardly  at  the  baked 
fragments  that  crumble  in  his  hand. 

Meninsky's  famous  Persian  dictionary  met  with  a  sad 
fate.  Its  excessive  rarity  is  owing  to  the  siege  of  yienaa 
by  the  Turks ;  a  bomb  fell  on  the  solitary  author's  boose, 
and  con<:umed  the  principal  part  of  his  indefatigabie  la- 
bours. Tnere  are  few  sets  of  this  high-pnced  work  which 
do  not  bear  evident  proofs  of  the  bomb ;  w^hile  many  parti 
aire  staine<l  with  the  water  sent  to  quench  the  flames. 

The  sufferings  of  an  author  for  the  loss  of  hts  manu- 
scripts is  nowhere  more  strongly  described  than  in  thecass 
of  Anthony  Urceus,  one  of  the  most  unfortunate  scholars 
of  the  fit'tc'enth  century.  The  loss  of  his  papers  seems 
immediately  to  have  been  followed  by  madness.  At  ForU« 
he  had  an  apartment  in  the  palace,  and  had  prepared  aa 
important  work  for  publication.  His  n^m  was  dark,  and 
he  generally  wrote  by  lamp-!i;;ht.  Having  eono  oat,  he 
left  tho  lamp  biirnin?  ;  the  papers  soon  kindled,  and  his 
library  was  reduced  to  a<hes.  As  soon  as  he  heard  the 
news,  he  ran  furiously  to  the  palace,  and  knocking  his  bead 
violently  against  the  door,  uttered  this  blasphemous  Ian* 
giia<^e ;  *  Jesus  Christ,  what  great  crime  have  I  done !  who 
of  those  who  believed  in  you  have  I  ever  treated  so  crue!« 
ly  ?  H''ar  what  I  am  saying,  for  I  am  in  earnest,  and  am 
resolved  :  if  by  chance  I  should  be  so  weak  as  to  address 
mvself  to  you  at  the  point  of  death,  don*t  hear  me,  for  I 
win  not  be  with  you,  but  prefer  hell  and  its  eternity  of  tor- 
mpnis.'  To  which,  by  the  by,  he  gave  little  credit,'  Those 
who  heard  these  ravines  tried  to  console  him,  bat  thej 
could  not.  He  quitred  the  town,  and  Uvcd  franticly,  was- 
derinj  about  the  woods  I 

Ben  Jonson's  Ex:craHon  on  Vulcan  wtis  composed  on  a 
like  orca»«ion  ;  ihe  friius  of  twenty  years'  studv  were  coo- 
sum'^d  in  one  short  hiur ;  our  literature  suffered,  for  amonf 
Sonne  works  of  iinasination  there  were  many  phiiusophicu 
c  Vlociions,  a  commentary  on  the  poetics,  a  complete  criti- 
cal srarnmar,  a  iite  of  Henry  V,  his  jfiurney  into  Scotland 
with  all  Ills  adventures  in  that  poetical  pilgrimage,  and  a 
poem  on  the  ladies  of  Great  Britain.  What  a  catalogoe 
of  los-?es  ! 

C;a*!'"lvPtro,  the  Ita'ian  commentator  on  Aristotle,  bav- 
in? heard  that  his  hoMse  was  on  fire,  ran  through  the 
s're-'s  cxclairijinff  to  the  peoole.  alia  Poetica!  alia  Poeti' 
ra  !  To  the  Po'ii'.  I  To  the  Poetic !  Hs  was  then  wnting 
hi-«  '' vnmon'.arv  on  the  Poetic  of  Aristotle. 

S'vra'  mm  of  idlers  have  been  known  to  have  risen 
from  th'ir  dca'.h-b"  i,  to  destroy  their  Mss.  So  solicitotis 
hive  thev  be^n  n  )f  to  venture  their  posthumous  reputalioo 
in  th«*  hands  of  uiidi^cprninj  friends.  Alarmontel  relates 
a  n'l'isinsT  an<'.cdote  of  (Jo'.ar.leau.  tho  eiegant  versifier  of 
Poi-^^'s  epi-Jiiccf  K  oisa  to  Abeiard. 

T.i  s  writer  had  not  yet  destroyed  what  he  had  written 
of  a  tran«ia'i  «i  of  Tr.s?o.  Al  the  approach  of  death,  he 
rcco!  ecu-d  this  unfinished  labour;  he  knew  that  his  friends 
wou'  1  not  have  coiirag-^  to  anriihilaio  one  of  his  works;  this 
was  reserved  f>r  him.  Dyinjj,  he  raised  himself,  and  as 
if  anioia'cd  l>y  an  honourable  action,  he  dra«jged  himself 
alonj.  an  1,  with  trcmb.iner  hands,  seized  his  papers,  and 
consumed  thrm  in  on.3  sacrilice.  I  recollect  another  in- 
san-^e  of  a  man  of  letters,  of  our  own  country,  who  fueled 
the  <?irn?  part.  !!•>  had  passed  his  life  in  constant  study, 
an  I  it  was  ob?*»rvt;d  that  he  had  written  several  folio  vols., 
which  his  mrlf  >t  fears  wo-i'd  not  permit  him  to  expose  to 
th'M*vf»  even  of  his  critical  friends.  He  promised  to  leave 
his  iab-Mirs  to  no-stcnty  ;  and  he  seemed  somelimes,  with  a 
eio.v  on  hi^  couutunance,  to  exult  that  they  would  not  be 
unworthy  of  tht:ir  acceptance.  At  his  death  his  sensibility 
to>k  the  alarm;  he  had  inc  folios  brought  to  his  bed;  no 
on-.*  CO  ild  op  'n  them,  for  they  were  closely  locked.  At 
ihe  si?ht  of  nis  favourite  anl  mysterious  labours,  he  paus- 
ed ;  he  «e*»mpd  distiirbeii  \n  his  mind,  while  he  felt  at  every 
moment  his  strcncrtn  decaying;  suddenly  he  raised  his 
fe«;b,c  hands  by  an  effort  of  firm  resolve,  burnt  his  papers, 
and  smiled  as  the  ereedy  Vulcan  licked  up  every  page. 
The  task  exhausted  his  remaining  strength,  and  he  soon 
afterwards  expired.  The  late  Mrs  Inchbald  had  written 
her  Ufe  in  several  volumes ;  on  b^^r  death-bed,  from  a  mo- 



tiw  perhapi  of  too  much  delimfij  to  admit  of  aoy  arfiu- 

called  the  heroum  oTauthon. 

The  repabUc  of  lettara  has  aufiered  irreparable  loasas  bj 
ahipwrecks.  Guarino  Verooeee,  one  of  thoie  learned 
Itabaoe  wlio  travelled  through  Greece  for  the  recovery  of 
we,  bad  hUi  perseverance  repiad  by  the  acquisition  of 
many  valuable  works.  On  nis  return  to  Italy  he  was 
■hipwrecked,  and  unfortunately  for  himself  and  the  world, 
■ays  Mr  Roscoe,  he  lost  his  treasures!  So  pungent  was- 
his  grief  on  this  occasion  that^  according  to  the  relation  of 
one  of  his  couotrymeni  his  hair  became  suddenly  white. 

About  the  year  1700,  Hudde,  an  opulent  burgomaster 
of  Middlebuigh,  animated  solely  bv  literary  curioeity,  de- 
voted faimselt  and  his  fortune.  He  went  to  China  to  in- 
struct himself  in  the  language,  and  in  whatever  was  re- 
markable in  this  singular  people.  He  acquired  the  skill  of 
a  mandarine  in  that  difficult  language ;  nor  did  the  form  of 
his  Dutch  face  undeceive  the  physiognomists  of  China. 
He  succeeded  to  the  dignity  of  a  mandarine ;  he  travelled 
through  the  provinces  under  tlus  character,  and  returned 
to  Europe  with  a  collection  of  observations,  the  cherished 
labour  of  thirty  years ;  and  all  these  were  sunk  in  the  bot^ 
tomless  sea ! 

The  great  PineDian  library  after  the  death  of  its  iUus- 
tnous  possessor,  filled  three  vessels  to  be  conveved  to 
Nsfries.  Pursued  by  corsairs,  one  of  the  vessels  was 
taken;  but  the  pirates  fiiMing  nothing  on  board  but  books, 
they  threw  them  all  into  the  sea ;  such  was  the  fate  of  a 

E9at  portion  of  this  famous  library.    National  libraries 
ve  often  perished  at  sea,  from  the  circumstance  of  con- 
querors transporting  them  into  their  own  kingdoms. 


Although  it  is  the  opinion  of  some  critics  that  our  litera- 
ry losses  do  not  amount  to  the  extent  which  others  ima- 
gine, thev  are  however  much  greater  than  they  allow.  Our 
•everest  losses  are  felt  in  the  historical  province,  and  par- 
tienlariy  in  the  earliest  records,  which  might  not  have  been 
the  least  interestinsto  philosophical  curiosity. 

The  history  of  Phoenicia  by  Sancboniathan,  supposed 
to  be  a  contemporary  with  Solomon  is  only  known  to  us 
by  a  few  valuable  fragments  preserved  by  Eusebius.  The 
same  ill  fortune  attends  Manetho's  history  of  Egypt,  and 
Bero8tts*s  history  of  Chaldea.  The  researches  of  the 
philosopher  are  therefore  Umited :  and  it  cannot  be  doubt- 
ed that  the  histories  of  these  most  ancient  nations,  how- 
ever veiled  in  fables,  or  clouded  by  remoteness,  would 
have  presented  to  the  phikwopher  singular  objects  of  con- 

Or  the  history  of  Polybius,  which  once  oontained  forty 
hooks,  we  have  now  only  five ;  of  the  historical  library  oif 
.Xodorus  Siculus,  fifteen  books  onhr  remain  out  of  forty ; 
and  half  the  Roman  antiouities  of  uiooysius  Halicamas- 
nensis  has  perished.  Or  the  eighty  books  of  the  history 
of  Dion  Cassius,  twenty-five  onnr  remain.  The  present 
opening  books  of  Ammianus  Maroellinus  is  entiued  the 
fourteenth.  Livy^s  history  consisted  of  one  hundred  and 
forty  books,  and  we  only  poesess  thirty-five  of  that  pleas- 
ing nistorian.  What  a  treasure  has  been  lost  in  the  thirty 
bcK>ks  of  Tacitus ;  little  more  than  four  remain.  Murphy 
elegantly  observes,  that  *  the  reijm  of  Titus,  the  delight  m 
human  aind,  is  totally  lost,  and  Domitian  has  escaped  the 
veageance  of  the  historian's  pen.'  Yet  Tacitus  m  firag- 
ments  ii  still  the  colossal  torso  <^  history.  >It  is  curious  to 
observe  that  Velleitis  Patercuhis,  of  whom  a  frafment  only 
has  reached  us,  we  owe  to  a  single  copy ;  no  oUier  having 
ever  been  discovered,  and  which  occasions  the  text  of  this 
historian  to  remain  incurably  corrupt.  Taste  and  criticism 
have  certaidy  incurred  an  irreparame  loss  in  that  TYeatm 
•»  Ae  oovses  oftht  Com^jftum  ofEhaqumeny  by  (Xuintilian; 
which  he  has  himself  notieed  vrith  so  much  satisfactimi  in 
his  *  Institutes.'  Petrarch  declares,  that  in  his  youth  he 
has  seen  the  works  of  Varro,  and  the  second  Decade  of 
Livy ;  but  all  his  endeavours  to  recover  them  were  (hnt- 

These  are  only  some  of  the  most  known  kwses  which 
have  oonirred  in  ine  republic  of  letters :  but  in  reading  con- 
temporary writers  we  are  perpetually  disoovenag  new  and 
iosportant  ones.  We  have  kwt  two  pvedooe  wwks  in  an- 
ment  biography ;  Varro  wrote  the  lives  of  seven  hundred 
ittttstrious  Romans,  and  Atticus,  the  friend  of  Cicero,  oom- 
poeed  another  on  the  actions  of  the  great  men  among  the 

Romans ;  these  works  were  enriched  with  portraits.  Whon 
we  consuier  that  these  writers  lived  familiarly  with  tba 
finest  seniuses  of  their  times,  and  were  opulent,  hospiti^ 
ble,  and  lovers  of  the  fine  aru,  their  biography  and  their 
portraits  are  felt  as  an  irreparable  loss  to  literature.  I 
suspect  likewise  we  have  had  great  losses  of  which  we  ara 
not  always  aware ;  for  in  that  curious  letter  in  which  the 
younger  Pliny  describes  in  so  interesting  a  manner  the 
sublime  industry,  for  it  seems  sublime  by  its  greatness,  of 
his  uncle  (Book  III,  Letter  V,  of  Melmouih's  transUition) 
it  appears  that  his  Natural  History,  that  vast  register  of 
the  wisdom  and  folly  of  the  ancients,  was  not  his  most  ez» 
traordinary  labour.  Among  his  other  works  we  find  a 
history  in  twenty  books,  which  has  entirely  perished.  We 
discover  also  the  woriis  of  writers,  which  oy  the  accounts 
of  them,  appear  to  have  equalled  in  genius  those  which 
have  descenued  to  us.  I  refer  the  curious  reader  to  such 
a  poet  whom  Pliny,  in  Book  I,  Letter  XVI,  has  feelingly 
described.  He  tells  us  that  *  his  works  are  never  out  or 
my  hands ;  and  whether  I  sit  down  to  write  any  thing  my- 
seifj  or  to  revise  what  I  have  already  wrote,  or  am  in  a  dis- 
position to  amuse  myself,  I  constantly  take  up  this  agree- 
able author ;  and  as  often  as  I  do  so,  he  is  stillnew.'  He 
had  before  compared  this  poet  to  Catullus ;  and  in  a  critic 
of  so  fine  a  taste  as  Pliny,  to  have  cherished  so  constant 
an  intercourse  with  the  writings  of  this  author,  indicates 
hi^  powers.    Instances  of  this  kind  firequenily  occur. 

The  lossea  which  the  poetical  world  has  sustained  are 
sufficiently  known  by  those  who  are  conversant  with  the 
few  invaluable  fragments  of  Menander,  who  woukl  have 
interested  us  much  more  than  Homer :  for  he  was  evident- 
ly the  domestic  poet,  and  the  lyre  he  touched  was  formed 
of  the  strings  of  the  human  heart.  He  was  the  painter  of 
manners,  and  the  historian  of  the  passions.  The  opinion 
of  Quintilian  is  confirmed  by  the  golden  fragments  pre* 
served  for  the  English  reader  in  the  elegant  versions  of 
Cumberland.  Even  of  ^^Eschylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euri- 
pides, who  each  wrote  about  one  hundred  dramas,  seven 
only  have  been  preserved,  and  nineteen  of  Euripides.  Of 
the  one  himdrecl  and  thirty  comedies  of  Plautus,  we  only 
inherit  twenty  impeifect  ones. 

I  believe  tnat  a  philosopher  would  consent  to  k>w  any 
poet  to  regain  an  nistorian ;  nor  is  this  unjust,  for  some 
future  poet  may  rise  to  supply  the  vacant  place  of  a  lost 
poet,  but  it  is  not  so  with  tne  historian.  Fancy  may  be 
supplied ;  but  Truth  once  lost,  in  the  annals  of  manlnnd, 
leaves  a  chasm  never  to  be  filled ! 

quoDLiBXTs,  on  SCHOLASTIC  oisqvzsiTimra. 

Menage  observes  that  the  scholastio  questions  were 
called  Queitionef  Quodlibetiem ;  and  they  were  generally 
so  ridicmous  that  we  have  retained  the  word  ^nodUbtt  m 
our  vernacular  languaee,  to  express  any  thing  ridiculously 
subtile:  something  which  comes  at  length  to  be  distin- 
guished into  nothingness, 

'  With  all  ihe  rash  dexterity  of  wk.> 

The  history  of  the  scholastic  philosophy  might  furnish  a 
I^ilosophical  writer  with  an  instructive  theme ;  it  would 
enter  into  the  history  of  the  human  mind,  and  fill  a  niche  in 
our  literary  annals;  the  works  of  the  scholastioi,  with 
the  debates  of  these  ^uodUbetarianSf  would  at  once  show 
the  greatness  and  the  littleness  of  the  human  intellect ; 
for  though  they  often  degenerated  into  incredible  absurdi- 
ties, those  who  have  examined  the  works  of  Thomas  Aqui- 
nas and  Duns  Scotus  have  confessed  their  admiration  of 
that  Herculean  texture  of  brain  which  they  exhausted  in 
demolishing  their  aerial  fabrics. 

The  following  is  a  slight  sketch  of  the  sdiool  divmity. 

The  Christian  docmnes  in  the  primitive  ages  or  the 
gospel  were  adapted  to  the  simple  comprehension  of  the 
multitude ;  metaphysical  subtilties  were  not  even  employ- 
ed by  the  fethers,  of  whom  several  are  eloquent.  Even 
the  Homilies  explained  by  an  obvious  interpretation  sono 
scriptural  point,  or  inferred  by  artless  illustration  soma 
mmal  doctrine.  When  the  Arabians  became  the  only 
learned  people,  and  their  empure  extended  over  the  great- 
est part  of  the  known  worid,  they  impressed  their  own 
Snius  on  those  nations  with  whom  they  were  allied  aa 
ends,  or  reverenced  as  roasters.  The  Arabian  genma 
was  fond  of  abstruse  studies^  it  was  highly  metaphysical 
and  mathematiciU,  for  the  fine  arts  their  religion  md  not 
admit  them  to  cultivate;  and  it  appears  that  the  firal 
knowledge  which  modem  Europe  obtamed  of  Euclid  and 
Aristotle  was  through  the  medium  of  Latin  translationn 



white  or  of  two  colours  ?  Was  his  linen  clean  or  foul  ? 
Did  he  appear  in  the  morning,  noon,  or  eventns  ?  What 
was  the  cofcnir  of  the  Virgin  Mark's  hair  ?  "Wm  she  ao- 
onainted  with  the  mechanic  and  liberal  arts  ?  Had  she  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  Book  of  Sentences,  and  all  it 
contains  ?  that  is,  Peter  Lombard's  compilation  from  the 
works  of  the  Fathers,  written  1200  years  after  her  death. 
Bat  these  are  oolj  trifling  matters ;  they  also  agitated, 
Whether  when  during  her  conception  the  Virgm  was 
seated,  Christ  too  was  seated,  and  whether  when  she  laj 
down,  Christ  also  lay  down  ?  The  following  question  was 
a  favourite  topic  for  discussion,  and  thousand  of  the  acutest 
logicians,  through  more  than  one  century,  never  resolved 
it :  *  When  a  hog  is  carried  to  market  with  a  rope  tied 
•bout  its  neck,  which  is  held  at  the  other  end  by  a  man, 
whether  is  the  h^f  carried  to  market  by  the  rop9  or  the 
mam  7^ 

In  the  tenth  century  (says  Jortin  in  bis  Remarks  on 
Ecclesiastica]  History,  vol.  Y,  p.  17,)  aAer  long  and  in- 
effectual controversy  about  the  real  presence  of  Christ  in 
the  sacrament,  they  at  length  universally  agreed  to  strike 
a  peace !  Yet  it  must  not  be  imaffined  that  this  mutual 
moderation  and  forbearance  should  t>e  ascribed  to  the  pru- 
dence and  virtue  of  those  times.  It  was  mere  ignorance 
and  incapacipr  of  reasoning  which  kept  the  peace,  and  de- 
terred them  from  entering  into  debates  to  wnich  they  were 

Lord  Lyttleton  in  his  Life  of  Henry  II,  laments  the 
unhappy  effects  of  the  scholastic  philosophy  on  the  pro- 
gress of  the  human  mind.  The  minds  of  men  were  turned 
from  classical  studies  to  the  subtilties  of  school  divinity, 
which  Rome  encouraged  as  more  profitable  for  the  main- 
tenance of  her  doctrines.  It  was  a  ereat  misfortune  to 
religion  and  to  learning,  that  men  of  such  acute  under- 
standing as  Abelard  and  Lombard,  who  might  have  done 
much  to  reform  the  errors  of  the  church,  and  to  restore 
science  in  Europe,  should  have  depraved  both,  by  apply- 
ing their  admirable  parts  to  weave  those  cobwel»  of  sopnis- 
try,  and  to  confound  the  clear  simphcity  of  evangelical 
truths  by  a  false  philosophy  and  a  captious  logic 


All  men  are  fond  of  glorV}  and  even  those  philosophen 
who  write  against  that  noble  passion  prefix  their  namea  to 
their  own  works.  It  is  worthy  of  observation  that  the  au- 
thors of  two  rtligiou*  booka,  universally  received,  have  con- 
cealed their  names  from  the  world.  The  *  Imitation  of 
Christ'  is  attributed,  without  any  authority,  to  Thomas 
A'Ketnpis ;  and  the  author  of  the  *  Whole  Duty  of  Man' 
•till  remains  undiscovered.  Millions  of  their  books  have 
been  dispersed  in  the  christian  world. 

To  have  revealed  their  name$t  would  have  given  them 
as  much  worldly  fame  as  any  moralist  has  obtained — but 
they  contemned  it !  Their  religion  was  the  purest,  and 
raised  above  all  woridly  passions !  Some  profane  writers 
indeed  have  also  concealed  their  names  to  great  works, 
but  their  m<ftive9  were  of  a  very  different  cast. 


Nothing  is  so  capable  of  disordering  the  intellects  as  an 
utense  application  to  any  one  of  these  six  things :  the 
Quadrature  of  the  circle ;  the  Multiplication  of  the  Cube ; 
the  Perpetual  Motion ;  the  Philosophical  Stone  ;  Magic ; 
and  Judicial  Astrology.  In  youth  wo  may  exercise  our 
imacinatjoo  on  these  curious  topics,  merely  to  convince  us 
jf  their  impoesibiiity ;  but  it  shows  a  great  defect  in  judg- 
ment to  be  occupied  on  them  in  an  advanced  age.  *  It  is 
proper,  however,'  Fontenelle  remarks,  *  to  apply  one's  self 
to  these  inquiries :  because  we  find,  as  we  proceed,  many 
valuable  discoveries  of  which  wo  were  before  ignorant.' 
The  same  thought  Cowley  has  applied,  in  an  Mdress  to 
bis  mistress,  thus— 

*  Although  I  think  thou  never  wilt  be  found, 
Yet  I*m  resolved  tn  search  for  thee ; 

The  search  itself  rewards  the  pains, 
Bo  thoueh  the  chymisc  his  great  secret  miss, 
(For  neither  it  in  an  or  nature  far) 

Yet  things  well  worth  his  toils  he  i^atns ; 
And  does  his  charge  and  labour  pay 
With  good  unsought  experiments  by  the  way.' 

The  tame  thought  is  in  Donne.  Perhaps  Cowley  did 
not  suspect,  that  he  was  an  imitator.  IP'ontenelle  could 
not  have  read  either ;  bo  struck  out  the  thought  by  bis 
own  reflection ;  it  is  very  just.    Glauber  searched  long 

and  deeply  for  the  philosopher's  stone,  which  though  lie 
did  not  nnd,  yet  in  his  researches  he  discovered  a  very 
useful  purging  salt,  which  bears  his  name. 

Maopertuis,  in  a  Kttle  volume  of  letters  written  by  him, 
observes  on  the  Philosophical  Stoney  that  we  cannot  prove 
the  impossibility  of  obtaining  it,  but  we  can  easily  see  the 
folly  or  those  who  employ  their  time  and  money  in  seeking 
for  it.  This  price  is  too  great  to  counterbalance  the  little 
proi»ability  of^succeeding  m  it.  However  it  is  still  a  bantf 
ling  of  modern  chemistry,  who  has  nodded  very  affection- 
ately on  it !— Of  the  Perpetual  Motunif  he  shows  the  im- 
possibility, at  least  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  generally 
received.  On  the  Quadrature  of  the  Cirde,  he  says  he 
cannot  deckie  if  this  problem  is  resolvable  or  not ;  but  he 
observes,  that  it  is  very  useless  to  search  for  it  any  more 
since  we  have  arrived  by  approximation  to  such  a  point  of 
accuracy,  that  on  a  large  circle,  such  as  the  orbit  which 
the  earth  describes  round  the  sun,  the  ge(Hnetrician  will 
not  mistake  by  the  thickness  of  a  hair.  The  quadrature 
of  the  circle  is  still,  however,  a  favourite  game  of  some 
visionaries,  and  several  are  still  imagining  tnat  they  have 
discovered  the  perpetual  motion ;  the  Italians  nick-name 
them  fnatto  perpetuo ;  and  Bekker  tells  us  of  the  fi^e  of  one 
Hartmann  of  Leipsic,  who  was  in  such  despair  at  having 
passed  his  life  so  vainly,  in  studying  the  perpetual  motion, 
that  at  length  he  became  himself  one  in  the  long  letter  ot 
Erasmus,  by  means  of  the  fatal  triangle ;  that  is,  he  hanged 
himself;  for  the  long  letter  of  Erasmus  is  the  Gntkph  *  ^ 
which  is  imagined  to  bear  some  resemblance  to  the  suspen- 
sion of  an  unlucky  mortal. 


Some  writers,  usually  pedants,  imagine  they  can  supply 
by  the  labours  of  industry  the  deficiencies  of  nature.  It  is 
recorded  of  Paulus  Manutius,  that  he  frequently  spent  a 
month  in  writing  a  single  letter.  He  affected  to  imitate 
Cicero.  But  although  he  has  painfully  attained  to  some- 
thing of  the  elegance  of  his  style,  he  is  still  destitute  of  the 
native  graces  of  unafl^ected  composition.  He  was  one  of 
those  whom  Erasmus  bantered  in  his  Cieeronianoaf  so 
slavishly  devoted  to  Cicero's  style,  that  they  ridiculously 
employed  the  utmost  precautions  when  they  were  seizea 
by  a  Ciceronian  fit.  The  Noaopoaua  of  Erasmus  tells  us 
ot  his  devotion  to  Cicero ;  of  his  three  indexes  to  all  his 
words,  and  his  never  writing  but  in  the  dead  of  night ;  em- 
ploying months  upon  a  few  lines,  and  his  religious  venera- 
tion for  loonit,  with  his  total  indifference  about  the  sense. 

Le  Brun,  a  Jesuit,  was  a  single  instance  of  such  unhap- 
py imitation.  He  was  also  a  Latin  poet,  and  his  themes 
were  religious.  He  formed  the  extravagant  project  of  sub- 
stituting a  rdtgioua  Virgil  and  Omd  merely  by  adapting 
his  works  to  their  titles.  His  Chriatian  Fir^ consists,  like 
the  Pagan  Virgil  ofEdoguea,  Ckorgicaj  and  of  an  £iic  ol 
twelvebooks,  with  this  difference,  that  devotional  subjects 
are  substituted  for  fabulous  ones.  His  epic  is  the  Jgnaaadt 
or  the  pilgrimage  of  Saint  Ignatius.  His  Chiatian  Ovia 
is  in  the  same  taste ;  every  thing  wears  a  new  face.  The 
Epiatlea  are  pious  ones  ;  the  fhati  are  the  six  days  of  the 
Creation ;  the  Elegiea  are  the  Lamentations  of  Jeremiah ; 
a  poem  on  fAe  low  of  Qod  is  substituted  for  the  Art  of  love ; 
and  the  history  of  some  Converaiona  supplies  the  place  of 
the  JtfetomorpAoses?  This  is  much  in  the  style  of  those 
who  have  projected  the  substitution  6C  a  family  ShaJa^>eare  I 

A  poet  of  far  different  character,  the  elegant  Sannazarius, 
has  done  much  the  same  thing  in  his  poem  Departu  Ftr- 
ginua.  The  same  serrile  imitaUon  of  ancient  taste  appears. 
It  professes  to  celebrate  the  birth  of  Chriat^  yet  his  name 
is  not  once  mentioned  in  it.  The  Virgin  herself  is  styled 
apea  doorum  !  The  hope  of  the  Gods !  The  Incarnation 
is  predicted  by  JVoteus— Virgin,  instead  of  consulting  the 
aaered  writinga^  reads  the  SyhiUine  oraelea  !  Her  attend* 
ants  are  Dryada^  Nerdda,  ^.  This  monstrous  mixture 
of  polytheism,  with  the  mysteries  of  Christianity  appeared 
in  every  thing  he  had  about  him.  In  a  chapel  at  one  of  his 
country  seats  no  had  two  statues  placed  at  nis  tomb,  ulpoUb 
and  Minerva ;  catholic  piety  found  no  difficulty  in  the  pre- 
sent case,  as  well  as  in  innumerable  others  of  the  same 
kind,  to  inscribe  the  statue  cX  ApoUo  with  the  name  of  Da- 
vid, and  that  of  JMineroa  with  the  female  one  of  Judith  ! 

Seneca,  in  his  114th  Epistle,  gives  a  curious  literar/ 
anecdote  of  that  sort  of  imitation  by  which  an  inferior  mind 
becomes  the  monkey  of  an  original  writer.  At  Rome,  when 
Sallust  was  the  fashionable  writer,  short  sentences,  uncom- 
mon words,  and  an  obscure  brevity,  were  affected  as  so 
many  elrganci«*».     Arrwntius,  who  wrote  the  history  of  the 



Panic  Wan,  MinAiUy  laboured  to  mutale  SalliMt.  Ez- 
presskHis  wluia  an  rare  in  Sallust  are  frequent  in  Amin- 
tio>|  and.  of  coorse,  without  the  motive  that  indaced  Sal- 
ost  to  anopt  them.  What  roee  natnrally  under  the  pen  of 
the  creat  historian,  the  nunor  one  must  lure  nm  after  with 
a  rimculoos  anxiety.  Seneca  adds  several  instances  of  the 
servile  affecution  of  Arruntius.  which  seems  much  Eke  those 
we  once  had  of  Johnson,  by  tne  undisceming  herd  of  his 

One  cannot  but  smile  at  these  imifators ;  we  have  abound- 
ed with  them.  In  the  days  of  Churchill,  every  month  pro- 
duced an  effusian  which  tolerably  imitated  his  rough  and 
slovenly  versifioUioa,  hn  coarse  invective,  and  his  careless 
"  writy  but  die  fjenius  remained  with  the  fin^idi  Ju- 
.    Sterne  had  his  countless  multitude,  and  m  FieU- 

^  s  time,  Tom  Jones  produced  more  faasluds  in  wit  than 
the  author  could  ever  suspect.  To  such  Utcrary  echoes, 
the  reply  of  Phihp  of  Bftacedon  to  one  who  prided  himself 
en  i"»«>«»««g  the  notes  of  the  ni|htinsale,  may  be  applied ; 
*  I  preler  the  ni^tingale  herself  r  Even  the  most  snocem 
fill  of  this  imitating  tribe  must  be  doomed  to  share  the  &te 
of  Silius  Italicus  in  his  cold  imitation  of  Virgil,  and  Caw- 
thome  in  1^  empty  harmony  of  Pope. 

To  all  these  imitators  I  must  apply  aaArabian  anecdote. 
Sbn  Saad,  one  of  Mahomet's  amanuenses,  when  writing 
what  the  prophet  dictated,  cried  out  by  way  of  admirmtion 
— >Blesseo  beGod  the  best  creator!  Mahomet  approved  of 
the  expression,  and  desired  him  to  write  those  words  down 
also  as  part  of  the  inspired  passage.  The  consequence 
was  that  Ebn  Saad  began  lo  think  nimself  as  great  a  pn^ 
f^et  as  the  master,  and  took  upon  himself  to  imitate  the 
Koran  according  to  his  iancy  ;  but  the  imitator  got  him- 
self into  trouble,  and  only  escaped  with  life  by  filling  on 
his  knees,  and  solemnly  swearing  he  would  never  acain 
imitate  the  Koran,  for  which  he  was  sensible  God  nad 
never  created  him. 

cicnno's  PiTirs. 

*  I  should,*  says  Meoajm,  have  received  great  pleasure 
to  have  conversed  with  Cicero,  had  I  lived  in  his  time. 
He  must  have  been  a  man  verr  agreeable  in  conversation, 
since  even  Cesar  careftJIy  eofiectod  his  bom  msft.  Cicero 
has  boasted  of  the  great  actions  be  has  done  fbr  his  coud- 
tiy,  because  there  is  no  vanity  in  exulting  in  the  perform- 
ance of  our  duties ;  but  he  has  not  boasted  that  he  was  the 
most  ektquenl  orator  of  his  age,  though  he  certainly  was ; 
because  nothlig  is  mors  disgusting  tun  to  exult  in  our  in- 
tollccinal  powers*' 

Whatever  were  the  bom  mote  of  Cicero,  of  iHiich  few 
have  come  down  to  us,  it  is  certain  that  C'toero  was  an  ii^ 
veterate  punster ;  and  he  seems  to  have  been  more  ready 
with  them  than  with  repartees.  He  said  to  a  senator,  who 
was  the  son  of  a  tailor,  *  Bern  oeu  UHgitti,*  You  have 
touched  the  thin^  with  sharpness.  To  the  eon  of  a  cook, 
*Egog»e^tiU^ttre  fmAo.*    The  ancients  pronoimced 

wmm  and  9U091M  like  oo-&e.  which  alludes  to  the  Latin  eo» 
cut,  cook,  besides  the  ambicuity  of  ^e,  which  applies  to 
bnA  or  Isis  jiif .  A  Sidnan  suspected  of  being  a  Jew, 
nttesapted  to  get  the  cause  of  Verres  into  his  own  hands ; 
Ciosro,  who  knew  that  he  was  a  cieatuio  of  the  great 
edptii,  opposed  hini,  observing,  '  What  has  a  Jew  to  do 
with  swine's  flcsht*  The  Romans  called  a  boar  pig 
ssrrcs.  I  regret  to  afford  a  respectable  authority  for  f^ 
rsnsac  puns ;  but  to  have  degraded  his  adversaries  oy  such 
potty  personhties,  only  proves  that  Cicero's  taste  was  not 

There  is  somethingvery  original  in  Montague's 
of  this  great  man.    Cotton,  the  Frenchman's  tn 


has  not  iU  expressed  the  peculiarities  of  hb  author,  though 
ho  has  blundered  on  a  material  expression. 

<  Boldly  to  confess  the  truth,  his  way  of  writing  and  that 
of  all  other  king-winded  authors,  app«ars  to  me  very  te- 
dious ;  for  his  arefooe,  definitions,  divisions,  and  e^molo- 
Ipss.  take  up  tlie  greatest  part  of  his  work,  whatever  there 
IS  01  life  ana  marrow,  is  sanoihered  and  lost  in  the  prepai*- 
tion.  When  I  have  spent  an  hour  in  reading  him,  which 
is  a  groat  deal  for  sse,  and  recollect  what  I  have  thence 
•ititteted  of  juice  and  substance,  for  the  most  part  I  find 
nothing  but  wind;  for  he  is  not  yet  come  to  the  arguments 
that  serve  to  his  purpose,  and  the  reason  that  maid  pro- 
periy  help  to  loose  the  knot  I  wooM  untie.  For  me,  who 
only  desired  to  become  more  wise,  not  more  learned  or  efo- 
qosnt,  these  logical  or  Aristotelian  disquisitions  of  poets 
aro  of  no  use.  I  fook  for  good  and  solid  reasons  at  the 
first  dash.    I  am  for  discourses  that  give  the  first  charge 

into  the  heart  of  the  doubu ;  his  languish  about  the 
ject,  and  delay  our  expectations.  Those  are  proper  for  thn 
schools,  for  the  bar,  and  for  the  pulpit,  where  we  have  let- 
sure  to  nod,  and  may  awake  a  quarter  of  an  hour  aftsr^ 
time  enough  to  find  again  the  thread  of  the  discourse,  b 
DBssary  to  speak  after  this  manner  to  judges,  whom  a 
has  a  desun,  right  or  wrong,  to  incline  to  favour  bin 
» ;  to  children  and  common  pe<^,  to  whom  a  warn 
must  say  all  be  can.  I  woukl  not  have  an  author  make  M 
his  business  to  render  me  attentive ;  or  that  he  should  erf 
out  fifty  times  O  jies  /  as  the  clerks  and  heralds  do. 

<  As  to  Cicero,  I  am  of  the  common  opinion  that,  learn" 
ing  excepted,  he  had  no  great  natural  parts.  Ho  was  a 
good  citizen,  of  an  affable  nature,  as  all  fat  heavy  asea 
— >(gras  H  gusisturs  are  the  words  in  the  original,  aseaai 
ing  perhaps  broad  jokers,  for  Cicero  was  not  mt)  such  as 
he  was,  usually  are ;  but  given  to  etmo,  and  had  a  nughty 
share  of  vanity  and  ambition.  Neither  do  I  know  how  to 
excuse  hhn  for  *K;iiirii>g  hig  poetry  fit  lo  be  published, 
'Tis  no  great  imperfection  to  write  ill  verses :  but  it  is  an 
iflspeifection  not  to  be  able  to  judge  how  unworthy  bod 
verses  were  of  the  glory  of  his  name.  For  what  concerns 
his  eloquence,  that  is  totally  out  of  coopaiison,  and  I  bo> 
lieve  wul  never  be  equalled. 


A  prefoce  being  the  entrance  to  a  bonk,  shouM  invite 
by  iU  beauty.  An  elegant  porch  announces  the  splendour 
of  the  interior.  I  have  hboerved,  that  onhnary  uadiiis 
skip  Qf€k  these  little  elaborate  compositions.  The  ladies 
them  as  so  many  psges  lost,  which  aught  better 

be  employed  in  the  addition  of  a  picturesque 
tender  letter  to  their  novels.  For  my  part,  I  always  gather 
amusement  from  a  prefoce,  be  it  avrinrardly^  or  skilfiiRv 
written ;  for  dulnem,  or  iinpertinenee,  may  raise  a  laugh 
for  a  page  or  two.  A  preface  is  frequently  a  superior  coo- 
posttioo  to  the  work  itself;  fcr  long  before  the  days  of 
Johnson,  it  had  been  a  custom  with  many  authors  to  solicit 
for  this  department  of  their  work  the  oroamemal  contribu- 
tion of  a  man  of  genius.  Cicero  tells  his  fiiend  Atticas, 
that  he  had  a  volume  of  prefoces  or  iotrodociions  always 
ready  by  him  to  be  used  as  circumstances  required.  Tbesa 
must  have  been  like  our  periodical  essays.  A  good  pre- 
face is  as  essential  to  put  the  reader  into  good  humour,  as 
a  good  prologue  is  to  a  play,  or  a  fine  svmphony  to  an 
opera,  containing  something  analoeoos  to  the  work  itssif ; 
so  that  we  may  reel  its  want  as  a  oesire  not  elsewhere  to 
be  gratified.  The  Italians  call  the  preface  Jjt  salsa  dd  i>- 
6ro,  the  sauce  of  the  book,  and  if  well  seasoned  it  creates 
an  appetite  in  the  reader  to  devour  the  hook  itself.  A  pre- 
face badly  composed  prejudices  the  reader  against  the 
work.  Authors  are  not  equally  fortunate  in  these  little  in- 
troductions; some  can  compose  volumes  more  skilfally 
than  prefaces,  and  others  can  fimsh  a  prefoce  who  could 
never  be  capaUe  of  finishing  a  book. 

On  a  very  elegant  preface  prefixed  to  an  iO-written  book, 
it  was  observed  that  they  ought  never  to  have  oeoie  iogoA 
er  ;  a  sarcastic  wit  remarked  that  he  conridered  such  mor- 
ri^fss  were  allowable,  for  they  were  noC  of  kin. 

In  prefaces  an  afiected  haughtiness  or  an  affected  hu- 
mility are  like  despicable.  There  is  a  deficient  dignity  in 
Robertson's  ;  but  the  haughtiness  is  now  to  our  purpose. 
This  is  called  by  the  French  <X«  Morgm  fitteroire,'  the 
surly  pomposity  of  literature.  It  is  sometimes  used  by 
writers  who  have  succeeded  in  their  first  work,  while  tha 
failure  of  thdr  subsequent  productions  appears  to  have 
given  them  a  literary  hypochondriasm.  Dr  Armstrow, 
after  his  classical  poem,  never  shook  hands  cordially  wim 
the  public  for  not  relidiing  his  barren  labours.  In  the 
pr^ato  to  his  lively  *  Sketches'  he  tells  us,  *  he  couM  give 
them  much  bokler  strcAes  as  well  as  more  octicate  touches, 
but  that  he  drtatU  the  danger  of  wriimg  too  teetf,  and  feels 
the  value  of  his  own  labour  too  sensible  to  bestow  it  upon 
the  mobUify.  This  is  pure  milk  compared  to  the  gall  in 
the  fnfoca  to  his  poems.  There  he  tells  us,  *  that  at  last 
he  has  taken  the  troohU  to  eoBeet  tkem  !  What  he  has  de- 
stroyed would,  |irobaUy  enough,  have  been  better  received 
by  the  great  majority  ofroadero.  But  he  has  always  moot 
heartihf  detpioed  tJmr  opmioH,*  These  prefaces  remind 
one  ol'^the  prologi  galeatit  prefoces  with  a  helmet !  as  St 
Jerome  entitles  the  one  to  ois  Version  of  the  Scriptures. 
These  armod  prrfaet$  were  fbrinerly  very  common  in  tho 
age  of  literary  controversy ;  for  half  the  bunnem  of  an  au- 
thor consisted  then,  either  in  replying  or  anticipatiaf  ^ 
reply  to  the  attacks  of  his  opponent. 




Profaen  oagfat  to  be  dated,  as  these  beoooie  after  a  t 
aeries  of  editions  leading  and  useful  circumstanees  in  lite- 
rarv  history. 

Fuller  with  quaint  humoar  obeerres  on  Indexee— '  An 
Index  is  a  necessary  implement  and  no  impediment  of  a 
book,  except  in  the  same  sense,  wherein  the  carriagea  of 
an  army  are  termed  /mpsdimente.  Without  this,  a  large 
author  is  bat  a  labyrinth  without  a  due  to  direct  the  reader 
therein.  I  confess  there  is  a  laxy  kind  of  learning  which 
u  onfy  Indieai;  when  scholars  (like  adders  which  only  bite 
the  horse's  heels)  nibble  but  at  the  tables,  which  are  mIms 
hbronan^  neglecting  the  body  of  the  book.  But  though  the 
idle  deserre  no  crtttchv(lel  not  a  staff  be  used  by  them,  but 
on  them,)  pity  it  is  the  weary  shouM  be  denied  the  benefit 
thereof,  and  industrious  scholars  prohibited  the  aocommoda^ 
tion  of  an  index,  most  used  by  tbose  who  most  pretend  to 
contemn  it. 

THS  AirciKirrs  Airo  modbrits. 

Frequent  and  violent  disputes  have  arisen  on  the  sub- 
iect  of  me  preference  to  be  given  to  the  ancients,  or  the  mo- 
dems. The  controversy  of  Perranh  and  Boileau  make  a 
considerable  figure  m  French  bteratnre ;  the  last  of  whom 
sakl  that  the  ancients  had  been  modems,  but  that  it  was  by 
no  means  clear  the  modems  wouU  become  ancients.  The 
dispute  extended  to  England ;  Sir  WiUiam  Temple  raised 
evep  his  gentle  indolence  against  the  bold  attacks  of  the 
rough  Wotton.  The  Uterary  world  was  pestered  and  tir- 
ed with  this  dispute,  which  at  length  got  mto  the  hands  of 
imolence  and  ignorance.  Swift's  <  BatUe  of  the  Books,' 
by  his  irresistible  vein  of  keen  satire,  seems  to  have  laid 
this  *  porturbed«piriU'  Tet,  surely,  it  had  been  better  if 
these  acrid  and  absurd  controveniea  bad  never  discraced 
the  republic  of  letters.  The  advice  of  Sidonius  ApoUinaris 
is  excellent ;  he  says,  that  we  should  read  the  ancients 
with  rstped,  and  the  modems  without  snoy. 

BOMS  UrOEiriODS  TH0t70BT8« 

Apufeius  calls  these  nedc4terchiefs  so  glassy  fine,(may  I 
so  express  myself?)  which  in  veiling,  discover  the  beauti- 
flil  bosom  of  a  woman,  ventem  texiuem ;  which  may  be 
translated  loeven  at.  It  is  an  expression  beautifiiUy  fimciful. 

A  Greek  poet  wrote  this  mscription  for  a  statue  of 

The  Oods,  from  living  turned  me  to  stone : 
Praxiteles,  from  itone,  restored  me  to  life. 

P.  Commire,  s  pleasing  writer  of  Latin  verse,  ssys  of  the 
fli^t  of  a  butterfly, 

Florero,  patares  nare  per  ]k|uldum  isthera. 
It  FLIES,  and  swims  a  flower  in  Ikjoid  air ! 

Voitare,in  addressing  Cardinal  Richelieu,  says,— How 
much  more  affecting  is  it  to  hear  one's  praises  from  the 
mouth  of  the  peo^^  than  from  that  of  the  poete. 

Cervantes,  with  an  elevation  of  sentiment,  observes 
that  one  of  the  greatest  advantages  which  princes  possess 
above  other  men,  is  that  of  being  attended  by  servants  as 
great  as  themselves. 

•Lususque  salesquo. 

Bed  lectos  pelago,  quo  Yeous  orta,  sales. 

TWs  is  written  by  a  modem  Laim  poet ;  but  is  in  Plu- 
tan:h,in  thecomparisonof  Aristophanes  and  Menander; 
<  In  the  comedies  of  Menander  there  is  a  natural  and  divine 
salt,  as  if  it  proceeded  from  that  sea  where  Venus  took  her 
birth,'  This  beautiful  thought,  obsenres  Monnoye,  has 
been  employed  by  seven  or  eight  modern  writen. 

Seneca,  amongst  many  strained  sentiments,  and  trivial 
points,  has  frequently  a  nappy  thought.  As  this  on  anger : 
« I  wish  that  the  ferocity  ol  this  passion  could  be  spent  at  its 
first  appearance,  so  that  it  might  injure  but  once;  as  in  the 
case  of  the  bee,  whose  sting  is  destroyed  for  ever  at  the 
first  puncture  it  occasions. 

Arisicnetus  says  of  a  beauty,  that  she  seemed  mom 
beautiful  when  drtmd;  yet  not  lessbeautiftd  when  tmdrea- 
asdL  Of  tew  beauties  he  says,  <  they  yielded  to  the  Grace* 
only  in  wanber,* 

Menage  has  these  two  terse  and  pointed  bnes  on  the  po^• 
trait  of  a  lady— 

*  Ce  portrait  resemble  k  la  belle, 
n  est  insensible  oomme  elle  !* 

oos  sympathy  of  two  lovers.    A  princess  is  relating  to  bar 
aimfimte  the  birth  of  her  passion : 

*  £t  comme  an  jeunc  coBur  est  blentot  enflamme, 
n  me  vH,  11  m*alma,  je  le  vis,  I*almal.* 

Boon  Is  the  youtbftil  heart  by  psssion  moved : 
He  saw,  ana  loved  me— him  I  saw,  and  loved. 

Calderon  is  more  extravagant  still ;  he  says  on  a  similar 

occasion  <~ 

*r  saw  and  I  loved  her  so  nearly  together,thai  I  do  not  know 
if  I  saw  her  efore  I  loved  her,  or  loved  her  before  I  saw  her.  * 

An  old  French  poet,  Pichoa,  in  bis  imitation  of  Bonarel- 
li's  Ftlb  de  Sciro,  has  this  ingenious  thought.  A  nymph  is 
discovered  by  her  lover,  faintmg  under  an  unbrageous  oak 
—the  conflict  of  beauty  and  horror  is  described  by  a  pretty 

<  81  Pamoar  ss  mooroit,  on  dirok,  le  void ! 
£t  si  la  mort  aimoit,  on  la  peindroit  ainsi. 
If  Love  were  dying,  we  should  think  him  here ! 
If  Death  could  love,  he  would  be  pictured  thus! 

The  same  lover  consents  at  length  that  his  mistress  shall 
love  his  rival,  and  not  inelegantly  expresses  his  feelings  io 
the  perplexed  situation. 

*  Je  veux  blen  que  ton  ame  ua  doable  amour  s'assemble 
Tu  peux  aimer  sans  crime  Aminte  et  Nise  ensemble } 
Et  lors  que  le  Irenes  flnira  mes  douleurs 
Avoir  pour  Pun  oies  feux,  et  pour  Pautre  despleaiea.* 

Yes  with  a  doable  love  thy  soul  may  bum  \ 
Oh  'tis  no  crime  to  love  Aminte  and  Kise  ! 
And  when  in  mv  last  hour  my  srief  shall  ckwe. 
Give  one  your  nres,  and  give  the  other  tears ! 

It  was  said  of  Petronius,  that  he  was  para  imjpmita»f 
purely  impure  :  jnira,  because  of  his  stylo ;  imparotas,  be- 
cause of  his  obscenities.  ^ 

Qiiam  muUa !  qwan  paudee !  is  a  fine  expreasion,  which 
was  employed  to  characteriae  a  concise  style  pregnant 
with  meaning. 

How  tenderiy  does  Tasso,  in  one  verse,  describe  his 
Olindo !  So  much  love  and  so  much  modesty ! 
<  Brama  assal,  poco  spera,  nulla  chiede. 

An  exquisite  verse,  which  Hoole  entirely  passes  over  in 
his  version,  but  which  Fairfax's  finer  feelings  preserves  : 

- *  He;  fall  of  bashfulness  and  truth. 

Loved  roueh,  hoped  little,  and  desired  naught.* 

It  was  said  of  an  exquisite  portrait,  that  to  judge  by  tha 
eye  it  did  not  want  speech  ;  ibr  this  only  could  be  detected 
by  the  ear. 

Manca  11  parlar ;  di  vivo  altro  non  chiedl : 
Ne  manca  questo  ancor,  8'agU  occhl  credit. 

Perrault  has  very  poetically  informed  us,  that  the  an* 
cionts  were  ignorant  of  the  circulation  of  the  Mood— 

<. Ignorolt  jufqu'aux  route  certalnes 

Du  meadre  vivant  qui  coule  dans  les  veinee. 
Unknown  to  them  what  devious  course  maintains 
The  live  meander  flowhig  io  their  veins. 
An  Italian  poet  makes  a  lover  who  has  survived  his  mis* 
tress  thus  sweetly  express  himself—* 

*  Piango  la  sua  morte,  e  ia  mia  vIul* 
Much  I  deplore  her  death,  and  much  my  UTo. 
It  has  been  usual  for  poets  to  say,  that  rivers  flow  to  con- 
vey their  tributary  suvams  to  the  sea.  This  figure,  being 
a  mark  of  subjection  proved  offensive  to  the  patriotic  Tasso, 
and  he  has  ingeniously  said  of  the  nver  JPo,  because  of  its 

Che  portl  guerra,  e  non  tribute  al  mare.* 

See  rapid  Po  to  Ocean's  empire  bring 

A  war,  and  not  a  tribute,  from  his  spring ! 

BAni.T  pnnmira. 
There  is  some  probability  that  this  art  originated  ia 
China,  where  it  was  practised  long  before  it  was  known  ia 
Europe.  Some  European  traveller  might  have  miportad 
the  hml.  That  the  Romans  did  not  practise  the  art  or 
printing  cannot  but'  excite  our  astonishment,  since  they 
really  possessed  the  art,  and  may  be  said  to  have  enjoyad 
it.  unconscious  of  their  rich  possession.    I  have  seen  Ro- 

In  this  portrait,  my  fair,  thy  rvsemblance  I  see ; 
An  tnssoslble  charmer  it  is— just  like  thee  I 

A  Freadi  poet  has  admirably  expressed  the  nstanUne- 

man  stereotypes,  or  printing  immoveable  Ivpes  with  which 
they  sumped  their  pottery.  How  in  daily  praetismg  tha 
art  though  confined  to  this  object,  it  did  not  occur  to  so 
ingenious  a  people  to  print  their  literary  works,  is  not  rasdy 
to  be  accounted  for.    Did  the  wise  and  grave  senate  dread 



tlio«e  iPconTwmeDCCT  which  ittendad  if  mdwcrimiiiato  vmel 
Or  Mriiaps  they  did  not  care  to  deprive  eo  large  a  body  aa 
their  acribea  of  tiieir  bnsineai.  Notahintof  tbeartitaelf 
appears  in  their  writinn. 

When  first  the  art  o?  printing  waa  discotcfed,  they  only 
■ade  ose  oTooe  side  ofa  leaf;  they  had  not  yet  found  out 
the  expedient  of  impreastnc  the  otiier.  SpecBncm  of  these 
eariy  printed  books  are  in  his  Majesty's  and  Lord  Spen- 
eer's  Ubraries.  Afterwards  they  thoogfat  of  pasting  the  Naak 
aides,  which  made  them  appear  like  one  leaf.  Theirblocks 
were  made  of  soft  woods,  and  their  letters  were  carred ; 
hot  Ireqaently  breaking,  the  expense  and  trouble  of  earring 
and  ^mnc  new  letters  suggerted  our  moveable  typee,wfaich 
have  produced  an  almost  miraculous  celerity  m  this  art. 
Our  modem  stereotype  consists  of  entire  pages  of  solid 
blocks  of  metal,  and  not  beine  liable  to  break  uke  the  soft 
wood  at  first  used,  is  profitaMy  employed  for  works  which 
rr<|aire  to  be  perpetually  reprinteo.  Printing  on  carved 
blocks  of  wood  most  hare  greatly  retarded  the  iwogress  of  1 
muversal  knotriedge ;  fiir  one  set  of  types  couki  ony  have 
produced  one  work,  whereas  it  now  serves  for  hondreds. 

When  their  editions  were  intended  to  be  curious,  they 
omitted  to  print  the  first  letter  ofa  chapter,  for  which  thev 
left  a  blank  space,  that  it  might  be  painted  or  illuminates, 
to  the  fancy  of  the  purchaser.  Several  ancient  volumes  of 
these  early  tinms  have  been  found  where  these  letters  are 
wanting,  as  they  neef  ected  to  have  them  printed. 

The  miiial  carveu  letter,  which  is  generally  a  fine  wood- 
cut, among  our  printed  books,  is  evidently  a  remains  or 
hnitatioo  ofthese  ornaments.  Among  the  very  earliest  books 
printed,  which  were  religious,  the  Poor  Man's  Bible  has 
wooden  cuts  in  a  coarse  style,  without  ihe  least  shadowing 
or  eroosmg  of  strokes,  and  these  they  inelegantly  daubed 
over  with  colours,  which  they  termed  illuminating  and  sold 
at  a  dieap  rate  to  those  who  oooU  not  afford  to^purchase 
costly  missals,  elegantly  written  and  painted  on  vellum. 
Spedmois  ofthese  rude  efforts  of  illununated  prints  may 
be  seen  in  Struu*s  Dictionary  of  Engravers.  The  Bodleian 
hbrary  possesses  the  originals. 

In  the  productions  of  eariy  printing  may  be  distinguished 
the  various  splendid  edttioos  they  nmde  of  Prrmenor 
Prmf«r-h9eka.  They  were  embelushed  with  cots  finished 
in  a  moat  elegant  taste ;  many  of  them  were  ludicrous,  and 
several  were  obscene.  In  one  of  them  an  angel  is  repr^ 
aented  crowning  the  Yiigin  Mary,  and  God  the  Father 
hiamelf  assisting  at  the  ceremony.  Sometimea  St  Michael 
in  overcoming  Satan ;  and  sometimes  St  Anthony  is  attadc- 
ad  by  various  devils  of  the  most  clumsy  forms  not  of  the 
grotesi^oe  and  limber  fitmily  of  Callot! 

Printmf  was  gradoaUypractised  throughout  Europe  from 
the  ymir  144D  to  1600.  Cazton  and  hb  successor  Wynkyn 
de  Worde,  were  our  own  earliest  printers.  Caxton  was 
a  wealthy  merchant,  who  in  1464,  oeing  sent  by  Edward 
IV,  to  negotiate  a  commercial  treaty  with  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  retonwd  to  his  country  with  this  invaluable  art. 
Notwithstanding  his  m^cantile  habita  he  possessed  a 
hterarv  taste,  and  his  first  work  waa  a  translation  from  a 
Frendi  historical  miscellany. 

The  tradition  of  the  devd  and  Dr  Faustua  waa  derived 
from  tiie  odd  circumstance  in  which  the  BiUea  of  the  first 
priater,Post,a|^»eared  to  the  world.  When  he  had  discover- 
ed this  new  art,  and  printed  oflTa  considerable  number  of  co- 
pies  of  the  imitate  those  which  were  commonly  aoM 
m  Mss,  he  undertook  the  sale  of  them  at  Paris.  It  was  his 
mtcrest  to  conceal  this  discovery,  and  to  pass  oflThis  printed 
copies  for  ms.  But  as  he  was  enabled  to  sell  Ids  bibles  at 
alxty  crownSfWhye  the  other  scribes  demanded  five  hundred, 
this  raised  universal  astonishment ;  and  still  more  when  he 
produced  copies  aa  fast  as  they  were  wanted,  and  even  low- 
ered his  price.  The  imifomuty  of  the  copies  increased 
wonder.  Informations  were  given  in  to  the  macistratea 
against  him  as  a  magioan ;  and  in  searching  hk  lodgings 
a  great  number  of  copies  were  found.  The  red  ink,  and 
Fust's  red  ink  is  peculiariv  brilliant ;  which  embellidied  hia 
copies  was  said  to  be  his  Uood;  and  it  was  solemnly  adjudg- 
ed that  he  was  in  league  with  the  devil.  Fust  was  at 
length  oblised  to  save  himself  from  a  bonfire,  to  reveal  his 
art  to  the  Pariiament  of  Paris,  who  discharged  him  from 
all  prosecution  in  consideration  of  this  useful  invention. 

When  the  art  of  printing  was  established,  it  became  the 
gkiry  of  the  learned  to  be  conectors  of  the  press  to  eminent 
printers.  Physidans,  lawvers,  and  bbhops  themselves,  oc- 
eopied  thu  department.  The  printers  then  added  freqoent- 
^  to  their  name  those  of  the  correctwi  of  the  press ;  and 

scfitions  ware  theo  valued  aceocding  to  the  aWifiai  of  tha 

Hie  jwwss  of  books  in  these  times  were  eoondared  asaa 
olHect  worthy  of  the  animadversioBB  of  the  highest  powna. 
Tnis  anxiety  in  favour  of  the  stndions,appearB  firom  ^privi- 
lege of  Pope  Leo  X,  to  Aldus  Maautitts  lor  printing  varro, 
dated  1553,  aigned  cardinal  Bessbo.  AMus  is  exhorted  to 
put  a  UMderate  price  on  the  work,  lest  the  Pope  sbouU 
withdraw  the  privilege,  and  accord  it  to  others. 

Robert  Stephens,  one  of  the  eariy  printers  surpassed  in 
correctness  those  who  exercised  the  same  profession.  Itis 
said  that  to  render  his  editions  Immaculate,  he  hung  op  the 
proofii  in  public  places  and  generously  recompensed  those 
who  were  so  fortunate  aa  to  detect  an  errata. 

Plantin,  though  a  learned  man,  is  more  famous  as  a  print- 
er. His  printing-office  daims  our  admiration :  it  was  one 
of  the  wonders  of  Europe.  This  grand  boikling  was  the 
diief  ornament  of  the  city  (^Antwerp.  Magnificent  in  its 
structure,  it  presented  to  the  spectator  a  countl«*ss  number 
of  presses,  characters  of  all  figures  and  all  nzes,  matricea 
to  cast  letters,  and  all  other  printing  materials ;  which  BaQ- 
let  assures  us  amounted  to  immense  sums. 

In  Italy,  the  three  Manulii  were  more  sdidtous  of  eor- 
rectioos  and  illustrations  than  of  the  beauty  of  their  printing. 
It  was  Um  character  of  the  scholar,  not  of  the  printer,  of 
which  they  were  ambitioos. 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  our  publishers  are  not  lite- 
rary men.  Among  the  learned  printers  forroeriy  a  book 
was  valued  because  it  came  from  the  presses  of  an  Aldua 
or  a  Stephens  and  even  in  our  time  the  names  of  Bowyer 
and  Do(wey  sanctioned  a  work.  Pelissnn  in  his  history  of 
the  Frendi  academy  tells  us  that  Camusat  was  selected  aa 
their  bookseller  from  his  reputation  for  publishing  only 
valuable  works.  He  was  a  man  of  some  literature  and  good 
sense,  and  rarely  printed  an  indifferent  work ;  when  we 
weie  young  I  recollect  that  we  always  made  it  a  rule  lo 
purchase  his  publications.  Hts  name  was  a  test  of  the  good- 
ness of  the  work.  A  publisher  of  this  character  would  be  of 
the  greatest  utility  to  the  literary  world :  at  home  he  would 
induce  a  number  of  ingenious  men  to  become  authors,  for  it 
wouM  be  honourable  to  be  inscribed  in  his  catalogue ;  and 
it  would  be  a  direction  for  the  continental  reader. 

So  valuable  a  union  of  learning  and  printing  did  not; 
unfortunately,  last.  The  printers  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury became  less  charmed  with  glory  than  with  gain.  Their 
correctors  and  their  letters,  erinced  as  bltle  delicacy  d 

The  invention  of  what  is  now  called  the  haSe  letter  in 
printing  was  made  by  Aldus  Manniius,  to  whom  learning 
owes  modi.  He  observed  the  many  inconveniences  result- 
ing from  the  vast  number  of  abbreviations  which  were  then 
so  frequent  among  the  printers,  that  a  book  was  difficult  to 
understand :  a  trealbe  was  actuallv  written  on  the  art  of 
reading  a  printed  book,  and  this  ad^essed  to  the  learned ! 
He  contrived  an  expedient,  by  which  these  abbreviations 
might  be  entirely  got  rid  of,  and  yet  books  suffer  little  in- 
crease in  bulk.  This  he  effected  by  introducing  what  is 
now  called  /CoZie  letter,  though  it  formerly  was  distinguish- 
ed by  the  name  of  the  inventor,  hence  called  the  Aldine. 


Besides  the  ordinarT  crrots,  which  happened  in  printing 
s  work,  others  have  been  purposely  committed  toat  the 
crrofa  may  contain  what  is  not  permitted  to  appear  in  the 
body  of  the  work.  Wherever  the  Inquiaition  had  any  pow- 
er, particulariy  at  Rome,  it  waa  not  silowed  to  employ  the 
word/otem,  orfata,  in  any  book.  An  author,  desirous  of 
osiiig  the  latter  word  adroitly  invented  this  scheme :  he 
had  printed  in  his  bookybeto,  and,  in  the  errufa,  he  put  for 
/oeCa,  read /ola. 

Scarron  has  done  the  same  thing  on  another  occasion. 
He  bad  composed  s«ne  verses,  at  the  head  of  which  he 
placed  this  dedication. — A  GuUUmelte^  (Xeiau  dt  ma 
Sttur  ;  but  baring  a  quarrel  with  Yaa  sister  he  malidously 
put  into  the  errala,  instead  of  C^Ucnae  de  ma  Sam-,  read 
ma  Ckienme  de  Sonar. 

Lully  at  the  dose  of  a  bad  prdogoe  sak),  the  word  Jhi 
dupnhgue  was  an  errstesi,  it  shouM  have  been^  dupro-' 

In  a  book,  there  was  printed  2ei2oc(eJlfersl.  A  wag  put 
into  the  aratOf  tor  Is  dode  Mord,  read  U  dodtmr  Mord. 
This  Mord  was  not  the  first  doctew  not  dode. 

When  a  fanatic  published  a  mystical  work  full  of  unin- 
telligible raptures,  and  which  he  entitled  />•  IkBctn  de 



rEnrit,  it  was  proposed  to  print  in  bis  orraU,  for  JkUeff 

When  the  author  of  an  idle  and  imperfect  book  ended 
witk  the  usual  phrase  of  etttra  denderantwr,  one  altered  it 
non  dttidemntur  md  dmuU ;  the  rest  is  wanimg,  but  not 

At  the  close  of  a  sill^  book,  the  author  as  usual  printed 
the  word  rims — A  wit  put  this  among  the  errata,  with 
this  pointed  couplet ; 

Finis !  an  eiror,  or  a  He,  my  fHeod ! 

In  writing  foolish  books— ihere  is  no  End ! 

In  the  year  1561,  was  printed  a  work,  entitled  the  Ana- 
tomy of  the  Mass.  It  is  a  thin  octavo,  of  17t  pages,  and 
it  is  accompanied  by  an  Errata  of  15  pages !  The  editor, 
a  pious  monk,  informs  us  that  a  very  serious  reason  in- 
duced him  to  undertake  this  task :  for  it  is,  says  he,  to 
forestall  the  artifiua  of  Satan,  He  supposes  that  the  Deyil, 
to  ruin  the  fruit  of  this  work,  employed  two  very  malicious 
frauds :  the  first  before  it  was  printed,  by  drenchini;  the 
Mss  in  a  kennel,  and  haring  reduced  it  to  a  roost  pitiable 
Btate^  rendered  several  parts  illenbie:  the  second,  in 
obligmg  the  printers  to  commit  such  numerous  blunders, 
never  yet  etjualled  in  so  small  a  work.  To  combat  this 
double  machmation  of  Satan  he  was  obliged  carefully  to 
re-peruse  the  work,  and  to  form  this  singular  list  of  the 
blunders  of  printers  under  the  influence  of  the  Devil.  All 
this  he  relates  in  an  advertisement  prefixed  to  the  Errata, 

A  furious  controversy  rased  between  two  famous  scho- 
lars from  a  very  laughable  out  accidental  Erratum ;  and 
threatened  senous  consequences  to  one  of  the  parties. 
Plavicny  wrote  two  letters  criticising  rather  freely  a  poly- 
glot Bible  edited  by  Abraham  Ecchellensis.  As  this  learned 
editor  had  sometimes  censured  the  labours  of  a  friend  of 
Flavigny,  this  latter  applied  to  him  the  third  and  fif\h  verses 
of  the  seventh  chapter  of  St  Matthew,  which  he  printed  in 
I^tin.  Ver.  S.  Quid  tidea  fettueam  in  ocvlo  Jratria  ltd, 
•f  trabem  in  ocuLO  teo  non  videa.  Ver.  5.  Ejteeprimum 
trd)em  de  oculo  fiio,  et  tune  viddna  ejicere  featueam  da 
ocuLO  fratria  tui.  Ecchellensis  opens  his  reply  by  ac- 
cusing Flavigny  of  an  enormoua  crime  committed  in  this 
passage;  attempting  to  correct  the  sacred  text  of  the 
Evanjjielist,  and  daringly  to  reject  a  word,  while  he  sup- 
plied Its  place  by  another  as  tmjnoua  as  obaeene !  This 
crime,  exaggerated  with  all  the  virulence  of  an  angry  de- 
claimer,  closes  with  a  dreadful  accusation.  Flavigny's 
morals  are  attacked,  and  his  reputaticm  overturned  by  a 
horrid  imputation.  Yet  all  this  terrible  reproach  is  only 
founded  on  an  Erratum!  The  whole  arose  from  the 
printer  having  neglisenily  suflfered  the  Jirat  Utter  of  the 
word  Oeulo  to  have  dropped  from  the  form,  when  he  hap- 
pened to  touch  a  line  with  his  finger  which  did  not  stand 
straight !  He  published  another  letter  to  do  away  the  im- 
putation of  Ecchellensis ;  but  thirty  years  afterwards  his 
rage  against  the  negligent  printer  was  not  extinguished ; 
Certiun  wits  were  always  reminding  him  of  it. 

One  of  the  most  egresious  of  all  literary  blunders  is  that 
of  the  edition  of  the  v  uTgate,  by  Sextus  V.  His  bofiness 
carefully  superintended  every  sheet  as  it  passed  through 
the  press ;  and,  to  the  amazement  of  the  worid,  the  wwk 
remained  without  a  rivaK— it  swarmed  with  errata!  A 
mnltitode  of  scraps  were  printed  to  paste  over  the  errone- 
ous passages,  in  order  to  give  the  true  text.  The  book 
makes  a  whimsical  appearance  with  these  patches ;  and 
the  heretics  exulted  in  this  demonstration  of  papal  infalli- 
bility !  the  copies  were  called  in,  and  violent  attempts 
made  to  suppress  it ;  a  few  still  remain  for  the  raptures  of 
the  biblical  collectors ;  at  a  late  sale  the  bible  of  Sextus 
V,  fetched  above  sixty  guineas— not  too  much  for  a  mere 
book  of  blunders'/  The  worM  was  highly  amused  at  the 
bull  of  the  editorial  Pope  prefixed  to  the  first  volume, 
which  excommunicates  all  printers  who  in  re-printing  the 
work  should  make  any  alteration  in  the  text. 

In  a  version  of  the  Epistles  of  St  Paul  into  the  Ethiopic 
Jhnguage,  which  proved  to  be  full  of  errors,  the  editors  al- 
lege a  very  good-humoored  reasMi— '  They  who  printed 
the  work  could  not  read,  and  we  could  not  print ;  they 
helped  us,  and  we  helped  them,  as  the  blind  helps  the 

A  prmter's  widow  in  Germany,  while  a  new  edition  of 
the  Bible  was  printing  at  her  nouse,  one  night  took  an 
opportunity  of  going  into  the  office,  to  alter  that  sentence 
of  subjection  to  her  husband,  pronounced  upon  Eve  in 
Genesis,  Chap.  8.  v.  16.  She  took  out  the  two  first  let- 
ters of  the  word  Hsrr,  and  subititated  Na  in  theu*  place 

thus  alteruu  the  sentence  from '  and  he  shall  be  thy  Lobo,* 
(JSerr)  to  *and  he  shall  be  thy  Fool,'  (JVorr.)  It  is 
said  her  life  paid  for  this  intentional  erratum ;  and  that 
some  secreted  copies  of  this  edition  have  been  bought  up 
at  enormous  prices. 

We  have  an  edition  of  the  Bible,  known  by  the  name  of 
TAe  vinegar  BMe ;  from  the  erratum  in  the  title  to  the  20th 
Chap,  of  St  Luke,  in  which, '  Parable  of  the  Fineyard,'  is 
printed  *  Parable  of  the  Vinegar,*  It  was  printed  m  1717, 
at  the  Clarendon  press. 

We  have  had  another,  where  *  Thou  shalt  comndt  adul- 
tery' was  printed,  omitting  the  negation ;  which  occasioned 
the  archbishop  to  lay  one  of  the  neaviest  penalties  on  the 
Company  of  Stationers  that  was  ever  recorded  in  the  an* 
nals  of  literary  history. 

Herbert  Crofl  used  to  complain  of  the  incorrectness  of 
our  English  Classics,  as  re-printed  by  the  booksellers.  It 
is  evident  some  stupid  printer  often  changed  a  whde  text 
intentionally.  The  fine  description  by  Akenside  of  the 
Pantheon, '  sxyKRXLT  great,' not  being  understood  by  the 
blockhead,  was  printed  aeren^  great.  Swift's  own  ed^ 
tion  of  *  the  City  Shower,'  has  *  old  acuxs  throb.'  Aehaa 
is  two  syllables,  but  modem  printers,  who  had  lost  the 
right  pronunciation,  have  adiea  as  in  one  syllable ;  and 
then  to  complete  the  metre,  have  foisted  in  *  aches  loiff 
throb.'  Thus  what  the  poet  and  the  linguist  wish  to  pre- 
serve is  altered,  and  finally  lost. 

It  appears  by  a  calculation  made  by  the  printer  of  Stee- 
ven's  edition  of  Shakspeare,  that  every  octavo  page  of 
that  work ;  text  and  notes,  contains  £680  distinct  pieces  of 
metal ;  which  in  a  sheet  amount  to  42,880— the  misplacing 
of  any  one  of  which  would  inevitably  cause  a  Uunder  !— 
With  this  curious  fact  before  us,  the  accurate  state  of  our 
priming,  in  general,  is  to  be  admired,  and  errata  ought 
more  freely  to  be  pardoned  than  the  fastidious  minuteness 
of  the  insect  eye  of  certain  critics  has  allowed. 

Whether  such  a  miracle  as  an  immaculate  edition  of  a 
classical  author  does  exist,  I  have  never  learnt ;  but  an  at- 
tempt has  been  made  to  obtain  this  glorious  sbgularity— 
and  was  as  nearly  realized  as  is  perhaps  possible :  the 
magnificent  edition  of  Aa  Luciadaa  of  CamoenSi  by  Dom 
Joze  Souza,  in  1817.  This  amateur  spared  no  prodigality 
of  cost  and  labour,  and  flattered  himself  that  by  the  assist- 
ance of  Didot,  not  a  single  typographical  error  should  be 
found  in  that  splendid  volume.  But  an  errw  was  after- 
wards discovered  in  some  of  the  copies,  occasioned  by  one 
of  the  letters  in  the  word  Liuaitano  having  got  muplaciMl 
durinc  the  working  of  one  of  the  sheets.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed that  this  was  an  accident  or  mtf/ertene— rather  than 
an  Erratum  I 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  complaints  on  xrbata  is 
that  of  Edw.  Leigh,  appended  to  his  curious  treatise  *  on 
Religion  and  learning.'  It  consists  of  two  folio  pages,  in 
a  very  minute  character,  and  exhibits  an  incakulable  num- 
ber of  printers'  blunders.  *•  We  have  not,'  he  says,  <  Plan- 
tin  nor  Stephens  amongst  us ;  and  it  is  no  easy  ta^  to 
specify  the  chiefest  errata ;  false  interpunctions  there  are 
too  many ;  here  a  letter  wanting,  there  a  letter  too  much ; 
a  syllable  too  much,  one  letter  for  another ;  words  parted 
where  they  should  be  joined  ;  words  joined  which  should 
be  severed;  words  misplaced;  chronolof^l  mistakee, 
&c.'  This  unfortunate  folio  was  printed  in  1666.  Are 
we  to  infer  by  such  frequent  complaints  of  the  authors  of 
that  day,  that  either  they  did  not  receive  proofs  from  tbo 
printers,  or  that  the  printers  never  attended  to  the  car* 
rected  proofs  Y  Each  single  erratum  seems  to  have  been 
felt  as  a  stab  to  the  literary  feelings  of  tlie  poor  author! 


Authors  have  too  frequently  received  ill  treatment,  even 
from  those  to  whom  they  dedicated  their  works. 

Some  who  felt  hurt  at  the  shameless  treatment  of  audi 
mock  Maecenases  have  observed  that  no  writer  should 
dedicate  his  works  but  to  his  micivDS ;  as  was  practised 
by  the  ancients,  who  usually  addressed  theirs  to  inose  who 
had  solicited  their  labours,  or  animated  their  progress. 

TheodosiuB  Gaza  had  no  other  recompense  for  having 
inscribed  to  Sextus  IV,  his  translation  of  the  book  of  Aris- 
totle on  the  Nature  of  Animals,  than  the  price  of  the  bind- 
ing, which  this  charitable  father  of  the  church  munificently 
b«itowed  upon  him. 

Theocritus  fills  his  Idylliums  wiih  loud  compluntsof  the 
neglect  <k  his  patrons ;  and  Tasso  was  as  Utile  successful 
in  his  dedications. 

Ariosto,  in  presenting  his  Oriando  Furioso  to  the  Cardi* 



sal  4^«ti>,  WM  gnttifM  with  U10  bitter  aarcum  oT— 
•Am  dJioDob  ooete  jdgHtdo  taUe  coiSoiurnr  When 
the  devil  have  Toa  found  all  this  etofff 

When  the  French  historian  Dapleiz,  whose  pen  was 
ndeed  fertile,  presented  his  hodr  to  the  Duke  dnSpemoo, 
this  Msseenas,  taming  to  the  Pope's  Nuncio,  who  was 
present,  very  coarsely  exclaimed— '  Cadedis !  ce  Moo- 
■ieur  a  an  flux  enrafiS,  il  chie  an  Hvre  toutes  les  lunes  V 

Thomson,  the  ardent  author  of  the  Seasons,  having  ex- 
travagantly praised  a  person  of  rank,  who  afterwards  a|K 
peered  to  be  andeservmg  of  eulogiums,  properly  employed 
nis  pen  in  a  solemn  recantation  of  his  error.  A  very  di^ 
ferent  conduct  from  that  of  Dupleix,  who  always  spoke 
biffaly  of  daeen  Margaret  of  France  for  a  liule  place  he 
held  in  her  household :  but  after  her  death,  when  (he  place 
became  extinct,  spoke  of  her  with  all  the  freedom  of  satire. 
8ach  is  too  often  the  character  of  some  of  the  literati,  who 
only  dare  to  reveal  the  truth  when  they  have  no  interest  to 
eoooeal  it. 

Poor  Mickle,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  so  beautiful 
a  version  of  Camoens*  Lusiad,  having  dedicated  this  work, 
the  eontinued  labour  of  five  years,  to  the  Duke  of  Boc- 
dengfa  had  the  mortificatioa  to  find,  by  the  discovery  of  a 
friendi  that  he  had  kept  it  m  his  possession  three  weeks 
before  he  oould  collect  sufficient  intellectual  desire  to  cut 
open  the  firat  pages !  and  what  is  worse,  the  neglect  he 
had  experiencflid  from  this  nobleman  preyed  on  his  mind, 
and  reduced  him  to  a  state  of  despondency.  This  patron 
was  a  political  economist,  the  pupil  of  Adam  Smith  I  It 
is  pleasing  to  add,  in  contrast  with  this  fi^gid  Scotch  patron, 
that  when  Mickle  went  to  Ijisbon,  where  his  translation 
had  passed  before  him,  he  found  the  Prince  of  Portugal 
waiting  on  the  quay  to  be  the  first  to  receive  the  translator 
of  this  great  national  poem ;  and  daring  a  residence  of  six 
months,  Mickle  was  warmly  regarded  by  every  Portugoese 

<  Everv  man  believes,'  writes  Dr  Johnson,  in  a  letter  to 
Baretti,  *  that  nystresses  are  unfaithful,  and  patrons  are 
eapricioas.  But  he  excepts  his  own  mistress,  and  his  own 

A  patron  is  sometimes  obtained  in  an  odd  way.  Ben- 
serade  attadied  himself  to  Cardinal  Mazarine ;  but  his 
friendship  produced  nothing  but  cirility.  The  poet  every 
day  indulged  his  ea^  and  charming  vein  of  amatory  and 

Enegyric  poetry,  while  all  the  world  read  and  admired 
I  verses.  One  evening  the  cardinal,  in  conversation 
with  the  king,  described  his  mode  of  life  when  at  the  papal 
ooort.  He  loved  the  sciences ;  but  his  chief  occupation 
was  the  bdles  lettres,  composmg  little  pieces  of  poetry ; 
he  said  that  he  was  then  in  the  court  of  Rome  what  Ben- 
•erade  was  now  in  that  of  France.  Some  hours  after- 
wards the  friends  of  the  poet  related  to  him  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  cardinal.  He  quitted  them  abruptly,  and  ran 
to  the  apartment  of  his  eminence,  knocking  with  all  his 
force,  that  he  might  be  certain  of  beinz  heara.  The  car- 
dinal had  just  gone  to  bed.  In  vain  they  infonned  him  of 
this  cireurostance,  while  he  persisted  m  demanding  en- 
trance ;  and  as  he  continued  this  incessant  disturbance, 
tb^  were  compelled  to  open  the  door.  He  ran  to  his 
ammenee,  (ell  upon  his  knees,  almost  pulled  off*  the  sheets 
of  the  bed  in  rapture,  imploring  a  thousand  pardons  for 
Aos  disturbing  bim,  but  such  was  his  joy  in  what  be  had 
just  heard,  which  he  repeated,  that  he  could  not  refrain 
from  immediately  giving  vent  to  bis  gratitude  and  his 
pride,  to  have  been  compared  with  his  eminence  for  his 
poetieal  talents!  Had  the  door  not  bet^n  immediately 
opened,  he  shoald  have  expired;  he  was  not  rich,  it  is 
true,  but  he  shoald  now  die  contented !  The  cardinal  was 
pleased  with  his  ardour ^  and  probably  never  suspected  his 
iiaUeiy ;  and  the  next  week  our  new  actor  was  pensioned. 
On  Cardinal  Richelieu,  another  of  his  patrons,  hegrate- 
ftilly  made  this  epitaph, 

Cy  dst,  oiiy  gist  par  la  mortblea 
Le  Cardinal  de  Richelieu, 
Kt  ce  qui  cause  mon  ennuy 
Ma  psosion  avee  luL 

Here  lies,  egad  Wa  very  true  ! 
The  Illustrious  Cardinal  Richelieu : 
My  grief  is  genuine— void  of  whim  ! 
'  my  pension  lies  wkh  him ! 

trayed  the  features  of  his  aoal,  as  hia  pcnetl  had  kiajphyai« 
ognomy.  If  genius  has  too  often  complained  of  na  pa- 
trons. It  has  often  too-overvalued  their  pfoteetkm. 



Acddent  has  frequently  occasioned  the  raoat  ai 
geniuses  to  display  their  powers.  It  was  M  Rona,  aaya 
Gibbon,  on  the  15th  of  October,  1764,  as  I  sat  mosiBg 
amidst  the  rains  of  the  Capitol.while  the  bare  .footed  (mn 
singing  vespers  in  toe  Temple  of  Jupiter,  that  the 


idea  of  writing  the  decline  and  All  of  the  City  first  started 
(0  my  mind. 

Father  Malebranche  having  eompleted  hia  studiea  n 
philoaophv  and  theology  without  any  other  iateotiaD  tiiaa 
devoting  oimself  to  some  religiona  onler.  little  expected  the 
celefcHrity  his  works  acquired  rar  him*  Loiteriiig  in  an  idle 
hour  in  the  ahop  of  a  bookaeller,  and  tummg  over  a  par- 
cel of  hooka,  VHomme  da  Ikacmtm  fell  into  his  hands. 
Having  dipt  into  some  parts,  he  read  with  soeh  delight, 
that  the  palpitations  of  his  heart  compelled  him  to  lay  iha 
volume  down.  It  was  this  cireurastanoe  that  produced 
those  prolbund  contemplationa  which  made  him  the  Plato 
of  his  age. 

Cowley  became  a  poet  by  aoddeat.  In  his  ■■other's 
apartment  he  found,  when  very  young,  Spanser's  Fairy 
dueen ;  and,  by  a  continual  studv  of  poetry,  he  became 
so  enchanted  of  the  Muse,  that  ne  grew  irrecoverably  a 

Dr  Johnson  informs  us,  that  Sir  Josboa  Reynolds  had 
the  first  fondness  of  his  art  excited  by  the  perusal  of  Ri- 
chardson's Treatise. 

Vaucanson  dis|^yed  an  uncommon  genius  for  mecha^ 
nica.    His  taste  was  first  determined  by  an  acddant; 

Le  Bran,  the  great  French  artist,  pain.ted  his  own  por« 
trait,  holding  m  his  hand  that  of  his  earliest  natron.  In 
this  acoompanimrnl  Le  Brun  may  bo  said  to  nave  pour- 

when  young,  he  frequently  attended  his  mother  to  the  1 
dence  of  her  confessor ;  and  while  she  wept  with  repent* 
ance,  he  wept  with  weariness !  In  this  state  of  disagreea- 
ble vacation,  savs  Helvetius  he  was  struck  with  the  uni- 
form motion  of  the  pendulum  of  the  dock  in  the  hall.  His 
curiosity  was  roused ;  he  approached  the  clock  case,  and 
studied  its  mechanism ;  what  he  could  sot  discover,  he 
guessed  at.  He  then  projected  a  similar  machine ;  and 
gradually  his  genius  produced  a  clock.  Encouraged  by 
this  first  success,  he  proceeded  in  his  various  attempts; 
and  the  genius  which  thus  could  form  a  clock,  in  tuno 
formed  a  fluting  automaton. 

*'  If  Shakspeare's  imprudence  had  not  obliged  bin  lo 
quit  his  wool  trade,  ami  his  town ;  if  he  had  not  engairad 
with  a  company  of  actors,  and  at  length,  disgusted  witii 
being  an  indifferent  performer,  he  had  not  tuned  author, 
the  prudent  wool^eUer  had  never  been  the  eelabratad 

*  Accident  determined  the  taste  of  Moliere  for  the  sta|ea. 
His  grandfather  loved  the  theatre,  and  fre^quentiv  earned 
him  there.  The  young  man  lived  in  dissipatioo;  the 
father  obeerving  it,  askM  in  anger,  if  his  son  was  lo  bo 
made  an  actor.  <<  Would  to  God,"  replied  the  grandfiuhor* 
**  he  was  as  good  an  actor  as  Montrose."  The  wocda 
struck  young  Moliere ;  he  took  a  disgust  to  his  tapeatiy 
trade ;  and  it  is  to  this  cireumstance  ttet  France  oweohm 
greatest  comic  writer.* 

*  Corneille  loved ;  be  made  verses  for  his  mistress,  he- 
came  a  poet,  composed  Melite,  and  afterwarda  his  other 
celebrated  works.  The  discreet  Ceroaille  had  reaBainod 
a  lawyer.' 

*  Thus  it  is,  that  the  devotion  of  a  mother,  the  death  ef 
Cromwell,  deer-stealing,  the  exclamation  of  an  old  laaa, 
and  the  beauty  of  a  woman,  have  given  fiva  iiloatiioim 
characters  to  £orope.' 

We  owe  the  great  discovery  of  Newton  to  a  swry  trivial 
aecidenu  When  a  student  at  Cambridge,  ho  had  ratirsd 
during  the  time  of  the  plague  into  the  oouatry.  As  he  wws 
reading  under  an  apple-tree,  one  of  the  frnit  fed,  and  stntck 
him  a  smart  blow  on  the  head.  When  ho  observed  the 
smallness  of  the  amle.he  was  surprieed  at  thaferoa  of 
the  stroke.  This  led  him  to  consider  the  aoeslaraiing 
motion  of  falling  bodiee :  from  iwhoBco  ha  dednosd  the 
principle  of  gravity,  and  laid  the  fboadatiofi  of  hia  pltilo* 

Ignatius  LoyolA  was  a  Spanish  ceatieowa,  who  was 
dangerous]  V  wounded  at  the  nege  of  Pampahma*  Havii^ 
heated  Us  imagiaatioa  by  reading  the  Lives  of  the  SaoMs, 
which  were  brought  lo  hiB  in  hia  iOneaa,  iaoload  of  r^* 
■UBoe,  he  oonoeivod  a  atroog  ambjlimi  to  be  the  bandar 



of  a  religious  order ;  whence  orijpnated  the  celebrated  so- 
ciety of  the  Jesuits. 

Rosseau  found  his  eccentric  powers  first  awakened  by 
the  advertisement  of  the  singular  annual  subject  which  the 
academy  of  Dijon  proposed  for  that  year,  in  which  he 
wrote  his  celebrated  Declamation  against  the  arts  and 
sciences,  A  drcumstance  which  determined  hn  future 
literary  efforts. 

La  Fontaine,  at  the  ace  of  twenty-two,  had  not  taken 
any  profession,  or  devoted  himself  to  any  pursuit.  Having 
acciaentaUy  heard  some  verses  of  Malherbe,  he  felt  a  sud- 
den impulse,  which  directed  his  future  life.  He  immedi- 
ately bought  a  Malherbe,  and  was  so  exquisitely  delight- 
ed with  this  poet,  that  after  passmg  the  nights  in  rreasur- 
ing  his  verses  in  his  memory,  he  would  run  m  the  day-time  ' 
to  the  woods,  where,  concealing  himself,  he  would  recite 
bis  verses  lo  the  surrounding  dryads. 

Flamstead  was  an  astronomer  by  accident.  He  was 
taken  firom  school  on  account  of  his  illness,  when  Sacro- 
bosco's  book  do  Sphami  having  been  lent  to  him,  he  was 
so  pleased  with  it,  that  he  immediately  began  a  course  of 
astronomic  studies.  Pennant's  first  propensity  to  natural 
history  was  the  pleasure  he  received  from  an  accidental 
perusal  of  Wtlloughby's  work  on  birds :  the  same  accident, 
of  finding  on  the  taMe  of  his  professor,  Reamur's  History 
of  Insects,  of  which  he  read  more  than  he  attended  to  the 
lecture,  and  having  been  refused  the  loan,  gave  such  an 
instant  turn  to  the  mind  of  Bonnet,  that  he  hastened  to  ob- 
tain a  C(^,  but  found  many  difficulties  in  procuring  this 
costly  work ;  its  possession  gave  an  unalterable  direction 
to  his  future  life ;  this  naturalist  indeed  lost  the  use  of  his 
sight  by  his  devotion  to  the  microscope. 

Ur  Franklin  attributes  the  cast  of  his  genius  to  a  similar 
aecidenL  *  I  found  a  work  of  De  Foe's,  entitled  an  "  Es- 
say on  Projects,''  from  which  perhaps  I  derived  impre»- 
sions  that  have  since  influenced  some  of  the  principal 
events  of  my  life.' 

I  shall  add  the  accident  which  occasioned  Roger  As- 
diem  to  write  his  SchotAmoMUr,  one  of  the  most  curious 
and  us^ul  treatises  among  our  elder  writers. 

At  a  dinner  given  by  Sir  william  Cecil,  during  the  plague 
m  16^,  at  his  apartments  at  Windsor,  where  the  queen 
nad  taken  refuge,  a  number  of  ingenious  men  were  invited. 
Secretary  Cecil  communicated  the  news  of  the  morning, 
that  several  scholars  at  Eton  had  run  away  on  account  of 
their  roaster's  severity,  which  he  condemned  as  a  great 
error  in  the  education  of  youth.  Sir  William  Petre  main- 
tained the  contrary ;  severe  in  his  own  temper  he  pleaded 
warmly  in  defence  of  hard  flogging.  Dr  Wootton,  in  soft- 
er tones,  sided  with  the  Secretary.  Sir  John  Mason, 
adopting  no  side,  bantered  both.  Mr  Haddon  secondeo 
the  hai^-hearted  Sir  William  Petre,  and  adduced,  as  an 
evidence,  that  the  best  schoolmaster  then  in  England  was 
the  hardest  flogger.  Then  was  it  that  Roger  Ascham  in- 
dignantly exclaimed,  that  if  such  a  master  had  an  able 
scholar  it  was  owing  to  the  boy's  genius,  and  not  the  pre- 
ceptor's rod.  Secretary  Cecil  ami  others  were  pleased 
with  Asdiam's  notions.  Sir  Richard  SackvUle  was  silent. 
but  when  Ascham  after  dinner  went  to  the  queen  to  read 
one  of  the  orations  of  Demosthenes,  he  took  him  aside, 
and  frankly  tok)  him  that  though  he  had  taken  no  part  in 
the  debate,  he  would  not  have  been  absent  from  that  con- 
versation for  a  great  deal ;  that  he  knew  to  his  cost  the 
truth  Ascham  mul  supported;  (or  it  was  the  perpetuai 
flogging  of  such  a  schoolmaster,  that  had  fiven  him  an  un- 
conquerable aversion  to  study.  And  as  ne  wished  to  re- 
medy this  defect  in  his  own  children,  he  earnestly  exhorted 
Asmam  to  write  his  observations  on  so  interesting  a  topic. 
Sudi  was  the  circumstance  which  produced  the  Mmirable 
treatise  of  Roger  Ascham. 

iraqirAUTTXs  OP  OBinvi. 

Singular  inequalities  are  observable  in  the  labours  of 
||enios ;  and  particularly  in  those  which  admit  great  enthu- 
soasra,  as  in  poetry,  in  painting,  and  in  music.  Faultless 
msdiocri^r  industry  can  preserve  in  one  continued  degree; 
bat  exoeucoce,  the  daring  and  the  happy,  can  only  be  at- 
tained, by  human  faculties,  by  starts. 

Our  poets  who  possess  the  greatest  genius,  with,  per- 
haps, tne  least  industry,  have  at  the  same  time  the  most 
■piendki  and  the  worst  passages  of  poetry.  Shakspeare 
ajid  Diyden  are  at  once  the  greatest  and  the  least  of  our 
poets.  With  some,  their  great  fault  consists  in  having 

Carraccio  sarcastically  said  of  Tinloret.— •£<»  ^Mduto  U 

3^n/orrtt0— Aora  egwde  a  TUiano,  hera  minora  dd^lhH^ 
rctto— I  have  seen  Tintorel  now  equal  to  Titian,  and  now 
less  than  Tintoret.' 

Trublet  very  justly  observes— The  more  there  are  Ason- 
tie»t  and  grtat  Monliet,  in  a  work,  I  am  the  less  surpnsed 
to  find /auZ(s,  and  great  fauita.  When  you  say  of  a  work 
—that  it  has  many  faults ;  that  decides  nothing ;  and  I  do 
not  know  by  this,  whether  it  is  execrable,  or  excellent. 
Tou  tell  me  of  another — that  it  is  without  any  faults ;  if 
your  account  be  just,  it  is  certain  the  work  cannot  be  ex- 

CONCKPriO?r  amo  exprxssiov. 

There  are  men  who  have  just  thoujghts  on  every  sub- 
ject ;  but  it  is  not  perceived,  because  their  expressions  are 
ceblo.     They  conceived  well,  but  they  produce  badly. 

Erasmus  acutely  observed— alluding  to  what  then  much 
occupied  his  minct— that  one  might  be  apt  to  swear  thai 
they  nad  been  taught,  in  the  confessional  cell,  all  they 
had  learnt ;  so  scrupukius  are  they  of  disclosing  what  they 
know.  Others,  again,  conceive  ill,  and  produce  well;  for 
they  express  with  elegance,  frequently,  what  they  do  not 

It  was  observed  of  one  pleader,  that  he  jbwio  more 
than  he  amdi  and  of  another,  that  he  taui  more  than  he 

The  judicious  Q,uinlilian  observes,  that  we  ought  at'first 
to  be  more  anxious  in  regard  to  our  conceptions  than  our 
expressions— we  may  attend  to  the  latter  afterwards. 
While  Horace  thought  that  expressions  will  never  fail  witfi 
luminous  conceptions.  Yet  they  seem  to  be  different 
things,  for  a  man  may  have  the  clearest  conceptions,  and 
at  the  same  time  be  no  pleasing  writer ;  while  concep- 
tions of  no  eminent  merit  may  be  very  agreeably  set  off 
by  a  warm  and  colouring  diction. 

Lucian  happily  describes  the  works  of  those  who  abound 
with  the  most  luxuriant  language,  void  of  ideas.  He  calls 
their  unmeaning  verbosity  anemony-words  (anemone  ver- 
borum ;)  for  anemonies  are  flowers,  which,  however  bril- 
liant, can  only  please  the  eye,  leaving  no  fragrance.  Pratt, 
who  was  a  writer  of  flowmg,  but  nugatory  verses,  was 
ccHnpared  to  the  dmty ;  a  flower  indeed,  Init  without  the 


There  are  many  sciences,  says  Menace,  on  which  we 
cannot,  indeed,  compose  in  a  norid  or  elegant  dictioit— 
such  as  geography,  music,  al^bra,  geometry,  he  When 
Atticus  requested  Cicero  to  write  on  geography,  the  latter 
excused  himself,  observing,  that  its  scenes  were  more 
adapted  to  please  the  eye  than  susceptible  dTthe  embellish- 
ments of  style.  However,  in  these  kinds  of  sciences,  we 
may  lend  an  ornament  to  their  dryness  by  introducing  oc- 
casionally some  elegant  allusion,  or  noticing  some  incident 
suggested  by  the  object. 

Thus  when  we  notice  some  inconsiderable  place,  for 
instance,  HPoodifodk,  we  may  recall  attention  to  Uie  resi- 
dence of  Chaauer,  the  parent  of  our  poetry ;  or  as  a  late 
traveller,  in  *  an  Autumn  on  the  Rhine,'  when  at  Ingel- 
heim,  at  the  view  of  an  old  palace  built  by  Charlemagne, 
adds,  with '  a  hundred  cdnnms  brought  from  Rome,'  and 
was  the  scene  of  *  the  romantic  amours  of  that  monarch's 
fair  daughter,  Ibertha,  with  Evinhard,  his  secretasj ;'  anL 
viewing  the  Gothic  ruins  on  the  bank  of  the  Rhme,  ham 
noticed  them  as  havmg  been  the  haunts  of  those  illustrioiM 
ehavdiiera  vofeurs,  whose  chivalry  consisted  in  pillaging  the 
merchants  and  towns,  till  in  the  thirteenth  century,  a  citi- 
zen of  Mayence  persuaded  the  merchants  of  more  than  a 
hundred  towns  to  form  a  league  agamst  these  little  prineos 
and  counts ;  the  origin  of  tne  famous  Hanseatic  leagoe, 
which  contributed  so  much  to  the  commerce  of  Europe. 
This  kmd  of  erudition  gives  an  interest  to  all  local  histonea 
and  associates  in  our  memory  the  illustrious  personagM 
who  were  their  inhabitants. 

The  same  prmciple  of  compontion  may  be  carried  witli 
the  happiest  effect  into  some  ory  investigatioDs,  though  tho 
profound  antiquary  may  not  approve  of  these  sports  of  wit 
or  fancy.  Dr  Arbothnot,  in  his  Tables  of  Ancient  Coins, 
Weights,  and  Measures,  a  topic  extremely  barren  of 
amusement,  takes  every  opportunity  of  enlivemng  the  duU 
ness  of  his  task ;  even  in  these  mathematical  ^Icolatioas 
he  betrays  his  wit ;  and  observes,  that  *  the  polite  Augna* 
ttts,  the  Emperor  of  the  Worid,  bad  neither  any  glass  ia 
his  windows,  nor  a  shirt  to  his  back  !*  Those  uses  o' 
glass  and  linen  were,  indeed,  not  known  in  his  time.    Ou* 



physioan  is  not  len  cuiioiis  and  faoetioas  in  the  account 
of  tbeywt  which  tho  Roman  phjaiciana  received. 


Thoee  wild,  ludicrous,  but  often  stupid  hkstones  entitled 
Lageods,  are  said  to  have  originated  in  the  following  ciiw 

Before  colleges  were  established  in  the  monasteries 
where  the  schoob  were  held,  the  professors  in  rhetoric  fre- 

anently  gave  their  pupils  the  life  of  some  saint  for  a  trial  of 
leir  talent  at  ampl^fioation.  The  students,  being  consUnt- 
ly  at  a  loss  to  furnish  out  their  pages,  invented  most  of  these 
wonderful  adventures,  Jortin  observes,  that  the  Christians 
used  to  collect  out  of  Ovid ,  Livy ,  and  other  pagan  poets  and 
hutorians,  the  miracles  and  portents  to  be  found  tnere,  and 
accommodated  them  to  their  own  monks  and  saints.  The 
good  fathers  of  that  age,  whose  simplicity  was  not  inferior 
to  their  devotion,  were  so  delighted  with  these  flowers  of 
rhetoric,  that  they  were  induced  to  make  a  collection  of 
these  miraculous  compositions;  nut  imaginiug  that,  at  some 
distant  period,  they  would  become  matters  of  faith.  Yet, 
when  James  de  Voragme,  Peter  Nadal,  and  Peter  Riba- 
deneira,  wrote  the  lives  of  the  saints,  they  sought  for  their 
materials  in  ihe-libraries  of  the  monasteries ;  aod,  awaken- 
ing from  the  dust  these  manuscripts  of  amplification,  ima- 
gined they  made  an  invaluable  present  to  the  world,  by  lay- 
ing before  them  these  voluminous  absurdities.  The  people 
received  these  pious  fictions  with  all  imaginable  simplicity, 
and  as  the  boM  is  adorned  with  a  number  erf*  cuts,  these 
miracles  were  perfectly  intelligible  to  their  eyes.  Tille- 
nont,  Fleury,  Baillet,  Launoi  and  Bollandus,  cleared  away 
much  of  the  rubbish;  the  enviable  tide  of  GoldenLegendf 
by  which  James  do  Voragino  called  his  work,  has  been  dis> 
pttted ;  iron  or  lead  might  more  aptly  express  the  character 
of  this  folio. 

When  the  workl  began  to  be  more  critical  in  their  read- 
ing, the  monks  gave  a  graver  turn  to  their  narratives  ;  and 
became  penurious  of  their  absurdities.  The  faithful  Catho> 
he  contends,  that  the  line  of  tradition  has  been  preserved 
unbroken ;  notwithstanding  that  the  originals  were  lost  in 
the  general  wreck  of  literature  from  the  barbarians,  or 
came  down  in  a  most  imperfect  state. 

Baronius  has  give  the  lives  of  many  apocryphal  saints ; 
(or  instance,  of  a  saint  Xmorit  whom  he  calls  a  martyr  of 
Antioch;  but  it  appears  that  Baronius  having  read  in  Chry- 
•ostom  this  morvt,  which  signifies  a  eoupU  or  j>air,he  mistook 
it  for  the  name  of  a  saint,  and  contrived  to  give  the  most 
authentic  biography  of  a  saint  who  never  existed !  The 
Catholics  confess  Inis  sort  of  blunder  is  not  uncommon,  but 
then  it  U  only  foob  who  laugh !  As  a  specimen  of  the 
happier  inventions,  one  is  given,  embellished  by  the  dic- 
tions of  Gibbrm— 

'  Among  the  insipid  legends  of  ecclesiastical  history,  I 
am  tempted  to  disiingubh  the  memorable  fable  of  the  Seven 
Steepen;  whose  imaginary  date  corresponds  with  the  raign 
of  the  younger  Thecraosius,  and  the  conquest  of  Africa  by 
the  Vandals.  When  the  Emperor  Decius  persecuted  the 
Christians,  seven  notable  youths  of  Ephesus  concealed 
themselves  in  a  spacious  cavern  on  the  side  of  an  adjacent 
mountain ;  where  they  were  doomed  to  perish  bv  the  ty- 
rant, who  |pive  orders  that  the  entrance  should  &e  firmly 
Mcurod  with  a  pile  of  stones.  They  immediately  fell  into 
a  deep  slumber,  which  was  miraculously  prolonged  without 
mjuring  the  powers  of  life,  during  a  period  of  one  hundred 
and  eiifhty-seven  years.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the  slaves 
of  Adolius,  to  whom  the  inheritance  of  the  mountain  had 
descended,  removed  the  stones  to  supply  matenals  for  some 
rustic  edifice.  The  light  of  the  sun  darted  into  the  cavern, 
and  the  Seven  Sleepers  were  permitted  to  awake.  Afler 
a  slumber  as  they  thought  of  a  few  hours,  they  were  press- 
ed by  the  calls  of  hunger ;  and  resolved  that  Jamblichus,one 
of  their  number,  shoukl  secretly  return  to  the  city  to  pur- 
chase bread  for  the  use  of  his  companions.  The  youth,  if 
we  may  still  employ  that  appellation,  could  no  longer  recog- 
Bse  the  once  familiar  aspect  of  his  native  country ;  and  hjs 
surprise  was  increased  by  the  appearance  c^a  large  cross, 
tfiumphanlly  erected  over  the  principal  gate  of  Ephesus. 
His  smgnlar  dress  and  obsolete  language  confounded  the 
baker,  to  whom  he  ofiered  an  ancient  mtxial  of  Decius  as 
Che  current  coin  of  the  empire ;  and  Jambhchus,  on  the  sus- 
picion of  a  secret  treasure,  was  dragged  before  the  judge. 
Thdr  mutual  inquiries  produced  the  amazing  discovery, 
that  two  centuries  were  almost  elapsed  since  Jamblichus 
his  fiieiida  had  escaped  from  the  rage  of  a  Pagan  ty- 

rant. The  bishop  of  Ephesus,  the  dergy,  thnaamlnta^ 
^«  Ifopt**  and,  it  is  said,  the  Emperor  TheodosiM  lum. 
mU,  hastened  to  visit  the  cavern  of  the  Seven  f^toopeia , 
who  bestowed  their  benediction,  related  their  slofT  aad  at 

the  same  instant  peaceably  expired. 

*  This  popular  tale  Mahomet  learned  when  be  draw  fam 
camels  to  the  fairs  of  Syria;  and  he  baa  introdooed  it,  aa  a 
dmine  reoetirtion,  into  the  Koran.' — The  sane  story  has 
been  adopted  and  adorned,  by  the  nacioos  from  Bengal  to 
Africa,  who  profess  the  Mahometan  religion. 

The  too  curious  reader  may  perhaps  requife  other  Bp»- 
cimena  of  the  more  unlucky  inventions  of  this  *  Goldea  Le- 
gend ;'  as  characteristic  oif  a  certain  class  of  mJH*,  the 
philosopher  will  not  contemn  these  grotesque  fictiooa. 

These  monks  imagined  that  holiness  was  often  prapor- 
tioned  to  a  saint's  filuiinesa.  St  Ignatius,  say  they,  de- 
lighted  to  appear  abroad  with  old  dhrty  shoes ;  be  never 
used  a  comb,  but  let  his  hair  dot;  and  rebgiously  ■K.tiiiHrd 
from  paring  his  nails.  One  saint  attained  to  such  pietv  as 
to  have  near  three  hundred  patches  on  his  breeches ; 
which,  after  his  death,  were  hung  up  in  public  as  an  mc«»> 
tne  to  imttOian,  St  Francis  discovered  by  certain  experi- 
ence, that  the  devils  were  frightened  away  by  sudi  kind  of 
breeches,  but  were  animatM  by  dean  dolhing  to  tempt 
and  seduce  the  wearers ;  and  one  of  their  heroes  dedares 
that  the  purest  souls  are  in  the  dirtiest  bodies.  On  ihu 
they  tell  a  story  which  may  not  be  very  agreeable  to  fas- 
tidious delicacy.  Brother  Juniper  was  a  gentleman  per- 
fectly pious  on  this  prindple ;  indeed  so  great  was  his 
ment  in  this  spedes  of^  mortification,  that  a  brother  declar- 
ed he  could  always  nose  Brother  Jimiper  when  within  a 
mile  of  the  monastery,  provided  the  wind  was  at  the  due 
point.  Once,  when  the  blessed  Juniper,  for  he  was  bo 
saint,  was  a  suest,  his  host,  proud  of  the  honour  of  enters 
taining  so  pious  a  personage,  the  intimate  friend  of  St 
Francis,  provided  an  excellent  bed,  and  the  finest  sheets. 
Brother  Juniper  abhorred  such  luxury.  And  this  too  evi- 
dently appeared  after  his  sudden  departure  in  the  morning 
unknown  to  his  kind  host.  The  great  Juniper  did  Ibis, 
says  his  biographer,  having  toM  us  what  he  did,  not  so 
much  from  his  nabitual  inclmations  for  which  he  was  so 
justly  celebrated,  as  from  his  excessive  piety,  and  as  much 
as  he  could  to  mortify  worldly  pride,  and  to  show  bow  a 
true  saint  despised  clean  sheets. 

In  the  life  of  St  Francis  we  find,  among  otlier  grotesque 
mirades,  that  he  preached  a  sermon  in  a  desert,  but  he 
soon  cdlected  an  immense  audience.  The  binii  shrilly 
warbled  to  every  sentence,  and  stretched  out  their  nedis, 
opened  their  beaks,  and  when  he  finished,  dispersed  with 
a  hdy  rapture  into  four  ccHupanies,  to  report  bis  sermon  to 
all  the  birds  in  the  universe.  A  grasshopper  remained  a 
week  with  St  Francis  during  the  absence  of  the  Virgin 
Mary,  and  pittered  on  hb  head.  He  grew  so  companiona- 
ble with  a  nightingale,  that  when  a  nest  of  swallows  began 
to  babble,  he  hushed  them  by  desiring  them  not  to  tittle- 
tattle  of  their  sbter,  the  nightingale.  Attacked  by  a  n^, 
with  only  the  sign  manual  of  the  cross,  he  heM  a  long  db- 
logue  with  hb  rabid  assailant,  till  the  wdf,  meek  as  a  bp- 
dog,  stretched  hb  paws  in  the  hands  of  the  saint,  foHowed 
him  through  towns,  and  became  half  a  Chrbtian. 

This  same  St  Francis  had  such  a  detestation  of  the 
good  things  of  this  world,  that  he  would  never  sufTer  hb 
followers  to  touch  money.  A  friar  havinc  placed  in  a  win- 
dow some  money  collected  at  the  altar,  he  desired  him  to 
take  it  in  hb  mouth,  and  throw  it  on  the  dung  of  an  ass ! 
St  Philip  Neriiis  was  such  a  lover  of  poverty,  that  he  fiv- 
quently  prayed  that  Ood  wouU  bring  him  to'that  state  as 
to  stand  in  need  of  a  penny,  and  find  nobody  that  wouU 
give  him  one ! 

But  Saint  Macaire  was  so  shocked  at  having  kSleda 
ttmm,  that  he  endured  seven  years  of  penitence  among  the 
thorns  and  briars  of  a  forest.  A  drcumslance  which  seems 
to  have  reached  Moliere,  who  gives  thb  stroke  to  the  dia- 
racter  of  hb  Tartuffe  : 

n  s'impute  a  pech6  la  moindre  bagatelle ; 
Jusques-la  quil  se  vlot,  l*autrejour8*aceuser 
D'avoir  pris  une  pace  en  faisant  sa  prbre, 
Et  de  Pavoir  ui6,  avec  trop  de  colere ! 

I  give  a  miraculous  incident  respecting  two  pious  mai- 
dens. The  night  of  the  Nativitv  of  Christ,  after  the  first 
mass,  they  both  retired  into  a  solitarv  spot  of  their  noone- 
rytill  the  second  mass  wss  rung.  One  asked  the  other, 
*  Why  do  you  want  two  cu8htoo«,  when  I  have  onlv  one  T 




The  other  replied,  '  I  would  place  it  between  us,  Tor  the 
'  child  Jeaus ;  as  the  Evangelist  says,  where  there  are  two 
or  three  persons  assembled  I  am  in  the  midst  of  them.* 
This  beinf  done,  they  sat  down,  feeling  a  most  livelv  plea- 
sure at  their  fancj ;  and  there  they  remained  from  the  Na- 
tivity of  Christ  to  that  of  John  the  Baptist ;  but  this  great 
interral  of  time  passed  with  these  saintly  maidens  as  two 
hours  would  appear  to  others.    The  abbess  and  her  nuns 
were  alarmed  at  their  absence,  for  no  one  could  give  any 
account  of  them.    In  the  eve  of  S(t  John,  a  cowherd  pass- 
ing by  them,  beheld  a  beautiful  child  seated  on  a  cushion 
between  this  pair  of  runaway  nuns.    He  hastened  to  the 
abbess  with  news  of  these  stray  6heep,who  saw  this  \ove\v 
child  playfiiUy  seated  between  these  nymphs,  who,  with 
blushing  countenances,  inquired  if  the  second  bell  had  al- 
ready rung?   Both  parties  were  equally  astonished  to  find 
our  young  devotees  had  been  there  from  the  Nativity  of 
Jesus   to  that  of  St  John.    The  abbess  asked  after  the 
child  who  sat  between  them ;  they  solemnly  declared  they 
saw  no  child  between  them,  and  persisted  m  their  story. 

Such  is  one  of  these  miracles  of  *  the  Golden  Legend,* 
which  a  wicked  wit  might  comnient  on,  and  see  nothing 
extraordinary  in  the  whole  story.  The  two  nuns  miffht 
be  missing  between  the  Nativities,  and  be  found  at  tne 
last  with  a  child  seated  between  them.  They  might  not 
choose  to  account  either  fm  their  absence  or  ttieir  child— 
the  only  touch  of  miracle  is,  that  they  asseverated,  they 
»aw  no  eWict— that  I  confess  is  a  KtUe  Vehild)  too  much. 

The  lives  of  'the  saints  by  Alban  Butler  is  a  learned 
work,  and  the  most  sensible  histoir  of  these  legends ;  Ri- 
badenaira*s  lives  of  the  saints  exhibit  more  of  the  legenda- 
ry spirit,  for  wanting  judgment  and  not  faith,  he  is  more 
voluminous  in  his  details,  and  more  ridicolou.4  in  his  nar- 


Every  lover  of  letters  has  heaVd  of  this  learned  societv, 
which,  says  Gibbon,  contributed  so  much  to  establish  m 
France  a  taste  for  just  reasoning,  simplicity  of  stvle,  and 
philosophical  method.  Their  '  Loffic,or  the  Art  otThink- 
ing,*  for  its  lucid,  accurate,  and  oiversified  matter,  is  still 
an  admirable  work ;  notwithstanding  the  writers  at  that 
time  had  to  emancipate  themselves  froni  the  barbarism  of 
the  scholastic  logic  with  cautious  boldness.  It  was  the 
conjoint  labour  of  Arnauld  and  Nicolle.  ISurope  has  be- 
nefited by  the  labours  of  these  learned  men  :  but  not  many 
have  attended  to  the  origin  and  dissolution  of  this  literary 

In  the  year  1637,  Le  Maitre,  a  celebrated  advocate,  re- 
siifned  the  bar,  and  the  honour  of  being  Counseilier  ePEtaty 
which  his  uncommon  merit  had  obtained  him,  though  then 
only  twenty-eight  years  of  age.  His  brother,  De  Sericourt, 
who  had  followed  the  military  profession,  quitted  it  at  the 
same  lime.  Consecrating  themselves  to  the  service  of 
God,  they  retired  into  a  small  house  near  the  Port'Rojtol  of 
Paris,  where  they  were  joined  by  their  brothers  De  Sacy, 
De  St  EIroe,  and  De  Yalraont.  Arnauld,  one  of  their 
most  illustrious  associates,  was  induced  to  enter  into  the 
Janscnist  controversy,  and  then  it  was  they  encountered 
the  powerful  persecution  of  the  Jesuits.  Constrained  to 
remove  from  that  spot,  they  fixed  their  residence  at  a  few 
leairues  from  Paris,  and  called  it  Part-Royal  deM  Champs. 
With  these  illustrious  recluses  many  distinguished  per- 
sons now  retired,  who  had  given  up  their  parks  and  houses 
to  bo  appropriated  to  their  schools  ;  and  this  community 
was  called  the  Society  of  PorURayal. 

Here  were  no  rules,  no  vows,  no  constitution,  and  no 
cells  formed.  Prayer  and  study,  and  manual  labour  were 
their  only  occupations.  They  applied  themselves  to  the 
education  of  youth,  and  raised  up  little  academies  in  the 
neighbourhood,  where  the  members  of  the  Port-Royal, 
the  most  illustrious  names  of  literary  France,  presided. 
None  considered  his  birth  en^tled  him  to  any  exemption 
from  their  public  offices,  relieving  the  poor  and  attending 
on  the  sicl^  and  employing  themselves  in  their  farms  and 
gardens ;  they  were  carpenters,  ploughmen,  gardeners, 
and  vinedressers,  &c,  as  if  they  had  practised  nothing 
ebe ;  they  studied  physic,  and  surgery,  and  law ;  in  truth, 
it  seems  that  from  religious  motives,  these  learned  men 
attempted  to  form  a  community  of  primitive  Christianity. 
The  Duchess  of  LoogueviRe,  once  a  political  chief,  sa- 
crificed her  ambition  on  the  altar  of  Port-Royal,  enlarged 
the  monastic  inclosure  with  spacious  gardens  and  orchards, 
built  a  noble  house,  and  often  retreated  to  its  seclusion. 
The  learned  D'Andilly,  the  translator  of  Josephus,  after 

his  studious  hours,resorted  to  the  cultivation  of  fruit-treM; 
and  the  fruit  of  Port-Royal  became  celebrated  for  its  size 
and  flavoiv.  Presents  were  sent  to  the  Gtueen-Mother  of 
France,  Anne  of  Austria,  and  Cardinal  IVIazarine,  who 
used  to  call  it  *  Frutti  beni.'  It  appears  that  *  families  of 
rank,  affluence,  and  piety,  who  did  not  wish  entirely  to  ^vo 
up  (heir  avocations  m  the  world,  built  themselves  countir- 
housea  in  the  valley  of  Port-Royal,  in  order  to  enjoy  the 
society  of  its  religious  and  literary  inhabitants.' 

In  tne  solitude  of  Port-Royal  Kaeme  received  his  educa- 
tion \  and,  on  his  death-bed  desired  to  be  buried  in  its  ce* 
metery,  at  the  feet  of  his  master,  Hamon.  Arnauld,  per- 
secuted, and  dying  in  a  foreign  country,  still  cast  bis  lin- 
Eering  looks  on  this  beloved  retreat,  aiid  left  the  society 
is  heart,  which  was  there  inumed. 
Anne  de  Bourbon,  a  princess  of  the  blood  royal,  erected 
a  house  near  the  Port-Roya],.and  was,  during  her  life,  the 
powerful  patroness  of  these  solitary  and  religious  men :  but 
ner  death  in  1679,  was  the  fatal  stroke  which  dispersed 
them  for  ever. 

The  envy  and  the  fears  of  the  Jesuits,  and  their  rancour 
against  Arnauld,  who  with  such  ahitity  had  exposed  their 
designs,  occasioned  the  destruction  of  the  Port-Royal  So- 
ciety .  J&rinontte,  eacmoMU  wpie  adfimdamentum  inae! 
Annihilate  it,  annihilate  it,  to  its  very  foundations !  Such 
are  the  terms  in  the  Jesuitic  decree.  The  Jesuits  had 
long  called  the  little  schools  of  Port-Royal  the  hot-beds  <^ 
heresy.  Gresoire,  in  his  interesting  memoir  of  *  Ruins  of 
Port-Royal,'  has  drawn  an  afiecting  picture  of  that  vir- 
tuous society  when  the  Jesuits  obtaiuea  by  their  intriguea 
an  order  from  government  to  break  it  up.  They  razrathe 
buildinss,  and  ploushed  up  the  very  foundation ;  they  ex- 
hausted their  hatred  even  on  the  stones,  and  profaned  even 
the  sanctuary  of  the  dead ;  the  corpses  were  torn  out  of 
their  graves,  and  docs  were  suffered  to  contend  for  the  rags 
of  their  shrouds.  When  the  Port-R<^al  had  no  longer  an 
existence,  the  memory  of  that  asylum  of  innocence  and 
learning  was  still  kept  alive  by  those  who  collected  the  en- 
gravings representing  that  place  by  Mademoiselle  Horte. 
mels.  The  police,  under  Jesuitic  influence,  at  length  seis- 
ed on  the  plates  in  the  cabinet  of  the  fair  artist.  How 
caustic  was  the  retort  courteous  which  Arnauld  gave  the 
Jesuits — <  I  do  not  fear  your  pen^  but  its  knife.* 

These  were  men  whom  the  love  of  retirement  had  united 
to  cultivate  literature,  in  the  midst  of  solitude,  of  peace, 
and  of  piety.  They  formed  a  society  of  learned  men,  ol 
fine  taste  and  sound  philosophy.  Alike  occupied  on  sa- 
cred, as  well  as  on  profane  writers,  they  edifieo,  while  they 
enlightened  the  world.  Their  writings  fixed  the  Frencn 
laoguage.  The  example  of  these  solitaries  shows  how 
retirement  is  favourable  to  penetrate  into  the  sanctuary  of 
the  Muses :  and  that  by  meditating  in  silence  on  the  orft* 
cles  of  taste,  in  imitating  we  may  equal  them. 

An  interesting  anecdote  is  related  of  Arnauld  on  the  o^ 
casion  of  the  dissolution  of  this  society.  The  dispersion 
of  these  great  men,  and  their  young  scholars,  was  lamented 
by  every  one  but  their  enemies.  Many  persons  of  the 
highest  rank  participated  in  their  sorrows.  The  excellent 
Arnauld,  in  tnat  moment,  wan  as  closely  pursued  as  if  he 
had  been  a  felon. 

It  was  then  the  Duchess  of  Longueville  concealed  Ar- 
nauld in  an  obscure  lodging,  who  assumed  the  dress  of  a 
layman,  wearing  a  sword  and  full-bottomed  wig.  Arnauld 
was  attacked  by  a  fever,  and  in  the  course  of  conversation 
with  a  physician,  Arnauld  inquired  after  news.  *  They 
talk  of  a  new  book  of  the  Port-Royal,'  replied  the  doctor, 
*  attributed  to  Arnauld  or  to  Sacy ;  but  I  do  not  believe  it 
to  come  from  Sacy ;  he  does  not  write  so  well.'  *  How. 
Sir !'  exclaimed  the  philosopher,  forgetting  his  sword  and 
wig ;  *  believe  me,  my  nephew  writes  belter  than  I  do.* 
The  physician  eyed  his  patient  with  amazement— he  hae- 
tenedf  to  the  Duchess,  and  told  her,  *  The  malady  of  the 

gentleman  you  sent  me  to  is  not  very  serious,  provided  you 
o  ngt  suffer  him  to  see  any  one,  and  insist  on  his  holmnf 
his  tcmgue.'  The  Duchess,  alarmed,  immediately  had 
Arnauld  conveyed  to  her  palace.  She  gave  him  an  apart- 
ment, concealed  him  in  her  chamber,  and  persisted  to  at- 
tend him  herself.  *  Ask,'  she  said,  *  what  you  want  e 
the  servant,  but  it  shall  be  myself  who  shau  bring  il  tu 


How  honourable  is  it  to  the  female  character,  that  in  all 
similar  events  their  sensibility  is  not  frreater  than  their  for- 
titude !  But  (he  Duchess  of  Longueville  saw  in  Arnauld  a 
model  of  human  fortitude,  which  martyrs  never  excelled. 
His  remarkable  reply  to  Nicolle,  when  they  were  hunted 



ftom  plaee  to  place,  cao  twrer  be  fixfottea:  Aimnkl 
'  NieoUe  to  uaiit  him  in  a  new  worii,  when  the  lau 
'We  are  now  old,  is  it  net  time  to  restf 
!'  letorned  Aniaiikl,  <  have  we  not  all  eteniitj  to 
1^  The  whole  of  the  Anianid  ftmily  were  thr  moat 
instance  of  that  hereditaiy  character  which 
m  coatiniied'throa^  certain  &mihes :  here  it  was  a  sqb- 
liaw,  and,  perhans  nnnlaranion  of  leamiaff  with  rdiMm. 
The  An»ulds,Sac7,  Pascal,  TiUemont,  with  other  3lii»- 
HiooB  names,  to  whom  literafy  Europe  inll  owe  perpetual 
bbiications,  combined  the  life  of  the  monastery  with  that 
of  &  library. 

OF  OLD  A«s  n  nw  traiiiss. 
Of  the  pleasnres  deriTable  from  the  collivalaoa  of  the  arts, 
nnf»'*^f  and  literature,  time  will  not  abate  the  growing 
passion ;  for  old  men  still  cherish  an  affection  and  fed  a 
yoothfiil  enthm^asm  in  those  jmrsoiis,  when  all  others  hare 
ceased  to  interest.  Dr  Reid,  to  his  last  day,  retained  a 
most  aetivB  curiosity  in  his  varioas  studies,  and  pardcolar- 
W  in  the  revolntions  of  modem  chemistiy.  In  advanced 
Sfewemay  resume  our  former  studies  with  a  new  pleasure 
and  in  old  age  we  may  enjor  them  with  the  same  relish 
with  which  more  umwii  muuiots  commence.  Professor 
Dagald  Stewart  telli  us  that  Adam  Smith  obscrred  tohim 
that  <  of  all  the  amusements  of  old  age,  the  most  grateful 
and  ti******'*e  is  a  renewal  of  acquaintance  with  the  favour- 
ite studies  and  fiivourite  authors  of  youth— a  remaifc, 
which  in  his  own  case  seemed  to  be  more  particularly 
eji«npUfied  while  he  was  reperusiog,  with  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  student,  the  tragic  poets  of  ancient  Gkeece.  I  heard 
him  repeat  the  obserranoo  more  than  ooee  while  Sopho- 
des  and  Euripides  lay  open  on  his  table.* 

Socrates  learned  to  play  oomusical  instruments  in  hb  old 
age ;  Gate,  at  eigh^  thought  proper  to  learn  QrttA ;  and 
Plntarch,  almost  as  late  in  life,  Latin. 

Theophrastus  be^n  his  admirable  work  on  the  Charac- 
ters of  Men  at  the  extreme  age  of  ninety.  He  only  ter- 
minated hii  literary  labours  bv  his  death. 

Peter  Roosaid,  one  of  the  fathers  of  French  poetry,  ap- 
plied himseUriate  to  study.  His  acute  genius,  and  vdent 
application,  rivalled  those  poetic  models  whidi  he  admired; 
and  Boceacrao  was  thirty-live  years  of  age  when  he  com- 
meaoed  his  studies  in  polite  literature. 

The  great  Amauld  retained  the  vigour  of  his  genius, 
and  the  ^■'*"*— ■**  of  his  pen,  to  his  last  day ;  and  at  the 
age  of  eigh^-two  was  stul  the  great  Amauld. 

Sir  Henry  Spefanaa  nedected  the  sciences  in  his  youth, 
but  odtivated  them  at  fifty  years  of  age,  and  produced 
good  ftuit.  His  eariy  years  were  chiefly  passed  in  farming, 
vdudi  greatly  diverted  bun  from  his  studies ;  but  a  re- 
markable disappomtment  respecting  a  contested  estafee/iis- 
gnsted  him  witn  these  rustic  occupations ;  resolved  to  at- 
tach himself  to  ru^lar  studies,  and  literary  sodety,  he 
sold  his  farms,  and  became  the  most  learned  antiquary  and 

Colbert  the  famous  Froidi  minister,  almost  at  sixty  re- 
tomed  to  his  Latin  and  law  studies. 

TeOier,  the  chanoellor  of  France,  learned  lo^,  merely 
for  an  anmsement,  to  dispute  with  hb  granddddran. 

Or  Johnson  applied  himself  to  the  Dutch  langua^  buta 
few  years  before  his  death.  The  Marquis  de  Saint  Au- 
laire,  at  the  age  of  seventy,  began  to  court  the  Muses,  and 
they  Cfownednim  with  their  freshest  flowers.  ThoTerses 
of  this  French  Anacreon  are  full  of  fire,  delicacy,  and 

study  of  the  law  so  late,  answered,  that  indeed  be  begaa  it 
late,  but  should  therefore  master  it  the  sooner. 

Diydea's  complete  works  form  the  lafsest  body  of  postty 
from  the  pen  of  one  writer  in  the  Eadish  language;  yotlm 
gave  no  public  testimony  of  poetiad  abilities  tiU  his  twca 
ty-seventh  vear.    In  his  sixty-eighth  year  be  ^  V^f^i^^ 
translate  the  whde  Iliad;  and  the 
doctions  were  vrrittenin  his  old  age. 

Michael  Angelo  preserved  hiscr 
extreme  old  age ;  there  is  a  device  said  to  be  mventsd  by 
him  of  an  old  man  represented  in  a  fo<art,  with  an  boor- 
glaa upon  it;  the  inscription  jineontrnparaS—YmrlAM 

We  have  a  Uteranr  curiosity  in  a  fovourite  treatise  wiiil 
Erasmus  and  men  of  letters  of  that  period,  De  Ralmmt  8bi^ 
ddy  by  Joadum  Sterck,  otherwise  Fortius  de  RUncdbeif  . 
The  enthusiasm  of  the  writer  often  carries  him  to  the  vei^ 
of  ridicde ;  but  something  must  be  sranted  to  his  pemfinr 
ntnation  and  feelings ;  for  Baillet  teUs  us  that  his  method 
of  studying  had  been  formed  entirdy  from  bis  own  practi* 
cal  knowledge  and  hard  experience ;  at  alate  perioaof  Ife 
he  commenced  his  studies,  and  at  length  he  ima^ned  that 
he  bad  discovered  a  more  perpendicular  mode  ofasoendinf 
the  hill  of  sdence  than  by  its  usud  drcuiUNis  windings 
His  work  Mr  Knox  ooamares  to  the  sound  of  a  tmmpeL 

Menage,  in  his  Anti-Baillet,  has  a  verr  cwious  apology 
for  his  writing  verses  in  his  old  age,  by  snowing  how  Bsany 
poets  amused  themselves  notwithstanding  their  gmy  haiia, 
and  wrote  sonnets  or  epigrams  at  ninety. 

La  Casa,  in  one  of  his  letters,  humoroody  said,  lecreds 
dk^iofaro  SonmeUo  tftmli  dnmuamd,  e  Crcnte,  jm  dbs  te  a^ 
re  marto.  I  think  I  majmake  some  sonneto twenty-five, or 
perhaps  thirty  years  after  I  shall  be  dead !  Peteau  teOsus 
that  be  wrote  verses  to  solace  the  evils  of  old 

-PetSTitts  mgtr 

Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tdes  were  the  composition  of  his 
latest  years ;  they  were  begun  in  hb  fifty-fourth  year,  and 
finished  in  hn  sixty^first. 

Lodovico  Mooaldeseo,  at  the  extraordinary  a^e  of  116, 
wrote  the  memoirs  of  hb  times,  a  sinsular  exertion,  notic- 
ed by  Vdtdre,  who  himself  b  one  of  the  most  renuurkaUe 
mstances  of  the  progress  of  age  in  new  studies. 

The  most  debghttbl  of  auto-bioeraphers  for  artists,  b 
Uiat  of  Benvenuio  Cellini ;  a  work  of  great  origindity, 
which,  was  not  begun  till  <  the  dock  of  hM  age  had  struck 

Koornhert  be^  at  forty  to  leam  the  Latin  and  Greek 
juguages,  of  which  he  became  a  master ;  several  students, 
who  afterwards  distinguished  themselves,  baveeoramenced 
aa  laic  in  life  their  lilerarv  pnrsuiu.  Ogilby,  the  transfai»> 
lor  of  Homer  and  Vir^,  knew  little  of  Latin  or  Ureek  till 
ho  waa  past  fifty ;  andFranklin'e  jphilosophicd  pursuits  be- 
gan when  he  had  neariy  readied  hb  fiftieth  year. 

Aeoorso,  a  great  lawyer,  oemg  atk«^  why  he  began  the 

CaMabttt  veterta  qucreas  solatb  moibL 

Mdherbe  dedarea  the  honours  of  gemus  were  his,  yet 

Je  les  poseedsv  jeone,  et  Ie«  possede  enorie 
▲  la  fin  de  mes  joors . 

Maynard  moralises  on  thb  subject. 

En  cheveux  blsncs  U  me  &at  done  aller 
Comme  on  enfant  toua  les  Jours  a  I'eoole ; 
Que  je  sub  Ibo  d^apprendre  a  blen  porler  * 
Lorsqne  la  mort  rwct  mooter  la  pside. 


Pere  Bouhours  observes,  that  the  Spanish  poets  dis- 
play an  extravagant  imaginatioB,  which  b  bgr  no  means 
destitute  of  cqariA— didl  we  say  ml?  but  wluch  evinem 
little  taste  or  judgment. 

Their  verses  are  modi  in  tiie  s^le  of  our  Cowle^r— trivia, 
points,  monstrous  metaphors,  and  quaint  conceits.  It  b 
evident  that  the  Spanish  poets  imported  thb  taste  from  the 
time  of  Merino  in  Itdy  ;  but  the  warmth  of  the  Spanish 
dimate  appears  to  have  redoubled  it,  and  to  have  fatown 
the  kindled  spaiks  of  dkimexicd  fancy  to  the  heat  of  a  Vd- 
csnbn  forge. 

Lopes  de  Vega,  in  deseribmg  an  afflicted  diep^erdess, 
in  one  of  hb  pastorals,  who  b  represented  weepii^t  near 
the  sea-aide,  says  <  That  the  sea  joyfully  advances  to 
{gather  her  tears ;  and  that,  having  endcised  them  in  shdb, 
It  converts  them  into  pearls.' 

*  Y  el  mar  oomo  ImbldioBO 
A  tierra  por  laa  lafrimas  salia, 
Y  alegre  de  cogerfas 
ajMb  foarda  en  condias,  y  convbite  en  pertas.* 

ViUegas  addresses  a  stream — »  Thou  vHio  runoest  over 
sands  of  gold,  with  feet  of  diver,'  more  degant  than  our 
Shakspeare's  *  Thy  diver  skin  laced  with  thy  golden  blood.' 
Yillegas  monstrously  exdaims,  *  Touch  my  breast,  if  you 
doubt  the  power  of  Lydb's  eye*  you  wiO  find  it  turned  to 
adies.'  Again—*  Thou  art  so  great  that  thou  canst  ody 
imitate  thyself  with  thy  own  greatness  ;*  much  like  our 
•  None  but  himsdf  can  be  his  parallel.' 

Gongora,  whom  the  Spaniards  once  greatly  admired,  aid 
distinguished  by  the  epithet  of  7%e  Womijid^  b  ftill  ol 
these  points  and  conceiu. 

He  imagines  that  a  mi^itiiigale,  who  endiantingiT  varied 
her  notes,  and  sang  in  diflerent  manners,  had  a  nondred 
thousand  other  nightingales  in  her  breast  which  alternately 
sang  through  her  throat— 

*  Con  dlfercnda  tsl,  eon  gracia  unta, 
A  quel  riynenor  Ibra,  que  soepecho 



Qua  teine  oiros  cisn  mU  dentro  del  p»cho 
Qua  altarna  au  dolor  par  su  garganuu* 

or  a  young  and  beautiAil  Imdy  be  nys,  thai  iha  has  but 
a  few  ytan  or  lifa,  but  many  o^ca  of  beauty. 

Mnchoa  aigloa  da  harmoaura 
En  poooa  anoa  de  adad. 

Many  ag ea  of  beauty  ia  a  falae  thought,  for  beauty  b^ 
eomea  not  more  beautilul  from  iu  age ;  it  would  be  only  a 
■uperannuated  beauty.  A  face  of  two  or  three  agea  dd 
eould  have  but  few  eharma. 

In  one  of  hia  odea  he  addreaaea  the  Ritrer  of  Madrid 
the  title  of  the  Duke  tf  Streamt  and  the  Viteaunt  of 

*  Maaganarea,  Manoaaaraa, 
Oa  que  en  lodo  el  aguadamo, 
Eaioia  Duaue  de  Arroyoa, 
T  Viaoonae  de  )oa  Rica.* 

He  did  not  venture  to  call  it  a  Spaniah  grandetf  for,  m 
fket.  it  ia  but  a  ahallow  and  dirty  atrearo :  and  aa  Q^nevedo 
wittily  inlorma  ua,  '  Afon^onare*  ia  reouced,  during  the 
anmmer  aeaaon,  to  the  melancholy  oondition  of  the  wicked 
rich  man,  who  aaka  for  water  in  the  deptha  of  hell.' 

Concerning  thia  river  a  pleaaant  witicism  ia  recorded. 
Though  ao  email,  thia  atream  in  the  time  of  a  flood  can 
■pread  itaelf  over  the  neighbouring  fielda ;  for  thia  reaaon 
Philip  the  Second  built  a  bridge  eleven  hundred  feet  long ! 
—A  Spaniard  paaaing  it  one  day,  when  it  was  perfectly 
dry,  obaerving  tnia  auperb  bridge,  archly  remarked,  *  That 
tt  would  be  proper  that  the  bndse  abcHild  be  aold  to  pur- 
chaae  water.*—* £<  matieiler,  venaer  la  ptunit  par  cougar 

The  foDowing  ele(^t  tranalation  of  a  Spaniah  madrigal 
of  the  kind  here  criudaed  I  found  in  a  newapaper,  but  it 
ia  evidently  by  a  maater-hand. 

On  the  green  margin  of  the  land, 

Where  Gktudalhoree  wlnda  hla  way, 

My  lady  lav : 
With  golden  key  81eep*a  gentle  hand 

Had  cloaed  her  eyea  ao  brighl— 

Her  eyea,  two  auns  of  light— 

And  bade  hia  balray  dewa 

Her  roay  chaeka  auffuae. 
The  Rirer  Ood  in  slumber  saw  her  laid. 

Ha  railed  hia  dripping  head, 

Wiih  weeda  o^erapread, 
Clad  In  hia  wat*ry  robea  approach*d  the  maid. 

And  with  cold  klaa.  Ilka  death, 

Drank  the  rich  perfume  or  the  maiden *a  breath 
The  maiden  fek  that  icy  kiea, 

Her  auna  uncloaed.  their  flame 

Full  and  unclouded  on  the  buroder  came. 

Amaxed  th*  incmder  felt, 

Hia  frothy  body  melt. 
And  heard  the  radiance  on  hla  boaom  hiaa ; 

And,  forced  In  blind  confualon  to  retire. 

Leapt  in  the  water  to  aacape  the  Are. 

sAiirr  BTRXMoim. 

The  portrait  of  St  Evremond,  delineated  by  hia  own 
hand,  will  not  be  unacceptable  to  many  readera. 

Thia  writer  poeaeaaed  delicacy  and  wit,  and  haa  written 
well,  but  with  great  inequality.  Hia  poetry  ia  inaipid,  and 
hla  proae  abounda  with  poiota ;  the  antitheaia  waa  hia  &• 
vourite  figure,  and  ifea  prodigality  fatigues.  The  eompari- 
Bons  he  forma  between  aome  of  the  ilmstrious  aneiMita  will 
intereat  from  their  ingenuity. 

In  hia  day  it  waa  a  literwy  fashion  for  writera  to  give 
their  own  portraita ;  a  fashion  that  seems  to  have  paaaed 
over  into  our  country,  for  Farouhar  haa  drawn  hia  own 
character  in  a  letter  to  a  lady.  Otliera  of  our  writera  have 
given  theae  aetf^niniatnrea.  Such  paintera  are,  no  doubt, 
great  flatterera,  and  it  ia  rather  their  ingenuity,  than  their 
truth,  which  we  admire  in  theae  cabinet  pictures. 

*  I  am  a  philoaopber,  aa  far  removed  from  auperatition  aa 
from  impiety ;  a  voluptuary,  who  has  not  less  abhorrence 
of  debauchery  than  inclinaticm  for  pleasure ;  a  man,  who 
has  never  known  want  or  abundance.  I  occupy  that  sta* 
tion  of  life  which  is  contenmed  by  those  who  poaaeaa  every 
thing :  envied  by  thoae  who  have  nothing,  and  only  re- 
liahed  by  those  who  make  their  ftriicity  consist  in  the 
nzerdse  of  their  reason.  Young,  I  hated  dissipation; 
eonvinced  that  a  man  must  posaeaa  wealth  to  provide  for 
the  comforts  of  a  long  Ufe.  Old,  I  disliked  eoonomy ;  as  I 
believe  that  we  need  nut  greauy  dread  want,  when  we 
have  but  a  short  time  to  be  miserable.  I  am  satisfied  with 
what  nature  has  done  for  me,  nor  do  I  repine  at  fortune. 

I  do  not  seek  m  men  what  they  have  of  evil,  that  I  may 
censure ;  I  only  discover  what  they  have  ridiculous,  thatl 
may  be  amused.  I  feel  a  pleasure  in  detecting  their  fol- 
lies ;  I  should  feel  a  greater  in  communicating  my  diseow- 
ries  dki  not  my  prudence  restrain  me.  Life  is  too  short, 
according  to  my  ideas,  to  read  all  kinds  of  books,  and  to 
load  our  memoriea  with  an  endleaa  number  of  things  at  the 
coat  of  our  iudgment.  I  do  not  attach  myaelf  to  the  ob- 
aervationa  w  aaentific  men  to  acquire  acience  ;  but  to  tho 
moat  rational  that  I  may  atrengthen  my  reaaon.  Some* 
timea,  I  aeek  for  more  delicate  minda,  that  my  taste  may 
imbibe  their  delicacy ;  sometimes  for  the  gayer,  that  I  may 
enrich  my  ffenius  with  their  gayety ;  ana,  although  I  con- 
stantly rMd,  I  make  it  less  my  occupation  than  my  plea- 
sure.  In  religion,  and  in  friendship,  I  have  only  to  paint 
myaelf  auch  as  I  am—in  friendship  more  tend«r  than  a 
philosopher ;  and  in  religion  as  constant  and  sincere  as  a 
youth  who  has  more  simplicity  than  experience.  My  piety 
IS  composed  more  of  justice  and  charily  than  of  penitence. 
I  rest  my  confidence  on  God,  and  hope  every  Uiing  firon 
his  benevolence.  In  the  boeom  of  providence  I  find  niy 
repose,  and  my  felicity.' 

KEN  or  OEirxua  DErxcxcirT  in  conTsaaATioir. 

The  student  who  may,  perhapa,  ahine  a  luminary  of 
learning  and  of  geniua,  in  the  pagea  of  hia  vohime.  la  found, 
not  rarely,  to  lie  obacured  beneath  a  heavy  dood  in  collo- 
quial diacourae. 

If  you  love  the  man  of  leUara  aeek  him  in  the  privadea 
of  hia  atudy.  It  ia  in  the  hour  of  confidence  an4  tranquillity 
hia  geniua  ahall  elidt  a  ray  of  iatelligeneo,  more  fervkl  than 
thelaboura  of  poliahed  compoaition. 

The  great  Peter  Coroeille,  whoae  geniua  reaemUed  that 
of  our  Bhakapeare,  and  who  haa  ao  forcibly  expreaaed 
the  aublime  aentiments  of  the  hero,  had  nothing  in  bis  ei- 
terior  that  indicated  his  geniua ;  on  the  contrary,  his  con- 
versation was  so  insipid  that  it  never  failed  or  wearying. 
Nature  who  had  lavished  on  him  the  gifts  of  genius,  had 
forgotten  to  blend  with  them  her  more  ordinary  ones.  He 
did  not  even  tpeak  correctly  that  language  of  which  he  was 
such  a  master. 

When  his  friends  represented  to  him  bow  much  more  he 
might  please  by  not  disdaining  to  correct  these  trivial  er- 
rors, he  would  smile  and  say'— <  I  am  not  the  haa  PtUr 
Comaitte ."  Descartes,  whoae  habita  were  formed  in  aoli- 
tude  and  meditation,  waa  silent  in  mixed  company ;  and 
Thomaa  daacribed  hia  mind  by  aaying  that  he  had  received 
hia  intellectual  wealth  from  nature  in  adid  bars,  but  not  in 
current  coin ;  or  as  Addison  expressed  the  same  idea,  by 
comparing  himself  to  a  banker  who  possessed  the  wealth 
ol  his  fiieiads  at  home,  though  he  carried  none  of  it  in  has 
pocket,  or  as  that  judidoos  moralist  Nicolle,  one  of  the 
Port-Royal  Society,  who  said  of  a  sdnttUant  wit — '  He 
ooo^uers  me  in  the  drawing-voom,  but  he  surrenders  to  me 
at  discretion  on  the  staircase.*  Such  may  say  with  The- 
mistocles,  when  asked  to  play  on  a  lute,*— <  I  cannot  fiddle, 
but  I  can  make  a  little  village  a  {preat  dty.' 

The  deficiencies  of  Addison  m  conversation  are  well 
known.  He  preeerved  a  rigid  silence  amongst  strangers; 
but  if  he  was  silent,  it  was  the  silence  of  meditation,  now 
often  at  that  moment,  he  laboured  at  some  future  Specta- 

Mediocrity  can  loft ;  but  it  is  for  genius  to  eftatree. 

The  cyninl  Mandeville  compare«fAddison,  after  having 
passed  an  evening  in  his  company,  to  *  a  silent  parson  in 
a  tie-wig.'  It  is  no  shame  for  an  Addison  to  receive  the 
censures  of  a  Mandeville ;  he  has  only  to  Uush  when  he 
calls  dowtf  those  of  a  Pope. 

Yircil  was  heavy  in  conversation,  and  resembled  more 
an  orcmiary  man  than  an  enchanting  poet. 

La  Fontaine,  says  La  Bruyore,  appeared  coarse,  heavy, 
and  stupkl ;  he  could  not  speak  or  describe  what  he  haa 
just  seen ;  but  when  he  wrote  he  was  the  model  of  poe- 

It  is  very  easy,  said  a  humourous  observer  on  La  Fon- 
taine, to  be  a  man  of  wit  or  a  fod ;  but  to  be  InHh,  and  that 
too  in  the  extreme  de^e,  ia  indeed  admindile,  and  only  to 
be  found  in  him.  Thta  obeervation  appKea  to  that  fine  na- 
tural geniua  Gddamtth.  Chaucer  waa  more  faeetioua  in 
hia  tuea  than  in  hta  conversation,  and  the  Gounteaa  of 
Pembroke  used  to  rally  him  by  saying  that  his  nlence  waa 
moro  agreeable  to  her  than  his  conversation. 

leocntes,  edebrafeed  for  his  beautifol  oratorical  compo- 
ntioaSfWas  of  so  timid  a  disposition  that  he  never  ventured 
to  speak  in  public.    He  con^ared  himsdf  to  the  whet- 



■laiM  which  will  not  cot,  bat  enables  other  things  to  do 
this;  for  his  prodoctiotts  sorted  ss  models  to  other  orators. 
Taoeanson  was  said  to  be  as  much  a  machine  as  any  he 
had  made. 

Diyden  said  of  himself,—'  My  conversatioa  is  slow  and 
doll,  BT^  hamonr  satnmma  and  reoenred.  In  short,  I  am 
■one  of  those  who  endeavour  to  break  jests  in  comjMny, 
or  make  repaiteee. 


What  a  consolation  for  an  aged  parent  to  see  his  dkUd, 
br  the  efforts  of  his  own  merits,  attain  from  the  humblest 
obscurity  to  distinguished  eminence !  What  a  tramiport 
for  the  man  of  sens^Hlity  to  retDrn  to  the  obscure  dwelling 
of  his  parent,  and  to  embrace  him,  adorned  with  public  ho- 
nomv.  Poor  Vida  was  deprived  of  this  satisfaction ;  but 
be  is  placed  higher  in  our  esteem  by  the  present  anecdote 
than  even  bj  that  classic  composition,  which  rivals  the  Art 
of  Poetry  of  his  great  master. 

Jeromt  Fada,  aAer  having  kwg  served  two  Popes,  at 
length  attained  to  the  episcopacjr.  Arrayed  in  the  robes  of 
his  new  dignity  he  |»repared  to  visit  bis  aged  parents,  and 
feiidted  hm»elf  with  the  raptures  which  the  oU  couple 
wouki  feel  in  embracing  their  son  as  their  bishop.  When 
he  arrived  at  their  viUaige,  he  learnt  that  it  was  but  a  few 
days  since  they  were  no  more !  His  sensibilities  were  ez- 
qoiritely  pained.  The  muse,  elegantly  querulous,  dkrtated 
some  elegiac  verse ;  and  in  the  sweetest  pathos  deplored 
the  death  and  the  disappointment  of  bis  parents. 

THE  scimuuxs. 

Bien  heureux  Scudery,  dont  la  fertile  plome 
Pent  tout  les  mois  saos  peine  enfamcr  un  volume. 

Boileau  has  written  this  couplet  on  the  Scuderies,  the 
brother  and  sister,  both  famous  m  their  day  for  composing 
romances,  which  they  sometimes  extended  to  ten  or  twelve 
volumes.  It  was  the  favourite  literature  of  that  period, 
as  novels  are  now.  Our  nolHlity  not  unfrequently  conde- 
scended to  translate  these  vdumioous  compositions. 

The  diminutive  size  of  our  modem  novels  is  undoubtedly 
an  improvement;  but  m  resembling  the  size  of  primers,  it 
were  to  be  wished  that  their  eontents  had  also  resembled 
their  inoffensive  pages.  Our  freat  grandmothers  were  in- 
commoded with  overgrown  f<Jios :  and,  instead  of  finish- 
iog  the  eventful  history  of  two  lovers  at  one  or  two  sittings, 
it  was  sometimes  six  months,  mebtding  Swuia^,  before 
they  couM  get  quit  of  their  Clelias,  their  Cyras's,  and  Par- 

Mademoiselle  Scudery,  Menage  informs  us,  had  com- 
posed mii^y  vobtme9  !  She  had  even  finished  another  ro- 
mance, which  she  wooM  not  cive  to  the  public,  vrhose  taste, 
she  perceived,  no  more  relished  this  kmd  of  works.  She 
was  that  unfortunate  author  who  Uves  to  more  than  nin^ 
ty  years  of  age;  and  consequently  outlive  their  immor- 

Sne  had  her  panegyrists  in  lier  day :  Menage  observes, 
'  What  a  pleasing  descripuon  has  Mademoiselle  Scudery 
made  in  her  Cynis,  of  the  little  court  at  AamhoiiiUet !  A 
thousand  things  in  the  romances  of  this  learned  lady  ren- 
der them  inestimable.  She  has  drawn  from  the  ancients 
their  happiest  passages,  and  has  even  improved  upon 
them ;  like  the  prince  in  the  fable,  whatever  she  toucnes 
becomes  gold.  We  may  read  her  works  with  great  profit, 
if  we  possess  a  correct  taste,  and  love  instruction.  Those 
who  censure  their  lengthy  only  show  the  Uttleoess  of  their 
judgment;  as  if  Homer  and  Virgil  wer«  to  be  despised, 
because  many  of  their  books  are  filled  with  episodes  and 
inckients  that  necessarily  retard  the  condusion.  It  does 
not  require  much  penetration  to  observe  that  C^rua  and 
Glefia  are  a  species  of  the  cpie  poem.  The  epk:  must  em- 
brace a  number  of  events  to  suspend  the  course  of  the 
narrative ;  which  only  taking  in  a  part  of  the  life  of  the 
hero,  would  terminate  too  soon  to  display  the  ddll  of  the 
poeu  Without  this  artifice,  the  charm  of  uniting  the 
greater  part  of  the  episodes  to  the  principal  subiect  of  the 
romance  wouU  be  k)st.  Mademoiselle  de  Soafery  has  so 
well  treated  them,  and  so  aptly  introduced  a  variety  of 
beautiful  passages,  that  nothmg  m  this  kind  is  comparable 
to  her  productions.  Some  expreasiotts,  and  certain  turns, 
have  become  somewhat  obsdeCe,  all  the  rest  will  last  for 
over,  and  outlive  the  criticisms  they  have  undergone.* 

Menaj^  has  here  certainly  uttered  a  fiilse  prophecy. 
The  cunous  only  look  over  her  romances.  They  contain 
doubtless  many  beautiful  inventions  ■  the  misfortune  is. 

that  time  wadpaiunee  are  raro  requisites  for  the  enjoymeHt 
of  these  Iliads  in  prose. 

( The  misfortune  of  h»  having  written  too  abundaMlj 
has  occasioned  an  onjust  contempt,'  says  a  French  oicie. 

*  We  confess  there  are  many  heavy  and  tedious  passages 
in  her  voluminous  romances ;  hot  it  we  consider  that  in  the 
Clelia  and  the  Artemene  are  to  bo  found  inimitable  dWJralu 
touches,  and  many  splendid  parts  which  would  do  hunoi 
to  some  of  our  living  vrriters,  we  must  acknowledge  that 
the  great  defects  of  all  her  works  arise  from  her  not  wri* 
ting  in  an  age  when  taste  had  reached  the  acm6  of  cultiva- 
tion. Such  is  her  erudition  that  the  French  place  ber 
next  to  the  celebrated  Madame  Dader.  Her  vrorka,  oo^ 
taining.many  secret  intrigues  of  the  court  and  dty,  ber 
readers  must  have  keenly  relished  on  their  early  pubbca- 

Her  Artamenes,  or  the  Graat  Cyrus,  and  prindpally  ber 
Clelia,  are  representations  of  what  then  passed  at  the  oooit 
of  France.  The  JMap  of  the  Kingdom  ^TVndenicss,  ia 
Clelia,  appeared,  at  the  time,  as  the  happiest  inveatioa. 
This  once  celebrated  map  is  an  allegory  which  distingnisb- 
es  the  different  kinds  of  tenderness,  which  are  reduced  lo 
esteem,  gratitude,  and  incrinaiion.  The  map  repreeeata 
three  rivers,  which  have  these  three  names,  and  on  wfai^ 
are  situated  three  towns  called  Teodemess :  Tenderness 
on  JmeHnaHon;  Tenderness  on  E$Uem :  and  Trnlnmnsa 
on  GnUiudt.  Pleating  Attentmu^  or  Petit  &tns,  is  a 
viUage  very  beautifully  situated.  Mademoiselle  de  8ci»- 
derv  was  extremely  proud  of  thb  little  allegorical  map ;  and 
had  a  terrible  controversy  with  another  writer  about  its 

Ueorge  Scudery,  her  brother  and  inferior  in  geakiB, 
had  a  strikmg  singularity  (rf'charactor: — he  was  one  of  the 
most  complete  votaries  to  the  universal  divinity  of  Vanity. 
With  a  heated  imagination,  entirely  destitute  of  judgment, 
his  military  character  was  continually  exhibitiiw  itself  by 
that  peaceful  instrument  the  pen,  so  tnat  heezhibts  a  most 
amusing  contrast  of  ardent  feelings  in  a  cod  situation ;  not 
liberally  endowed  with  genius,  but  abounding  with  its  sem- 
blance in  the  fire  of  eccentric  gasconade;  no  man  has 
pourtra^ed  his  own  character  wiui  a  boMer  odooring  than 
himself  in  his  numerous  pre&ces  and  addresses ;  siinound- 
ed  by  a  thousand  self^iilusions  of  the  most  sublime  class, 
every  thing  that  related  to  himself  had  an  Homeric  gran- 
deur of  conception. 

In  an  epistle  to  the  Duke  of  Montmorency,  he  says,  *  1 
will  learn  to  write  with  my  left  hand,  that  my  right  ^'^ 
mav  more  noblv  be  devoted  to  your  service  ;*  and  alluding 
to  his  pen,  {plume,)  dedares,  *  he  comes  from  a  fkmily 
who  never  used  one,  but  to  stick  in  their  hats.'  When  ho 
sdidts  small  favours  from  the  great,  he  assures  them  *  that 
princes  must  not  think  him  importunate,  and  *hat  hb  wriU 
mgs  are  merely  inspired  by  his  own  individual  imerest; 
no !  he  ezdaims,  I  am  studious  only  of  your  glory,  while  I 
am  careless  of  my  own  fortune.'  And  indeed,  to  do  him 
but  justice,  he  acted  up  to  those  romantic  feehngs.  Aft<r 
he  bad  published  his  epic  of  Alaric,  Christina  of  Sweden 
proposed  to  honour  him  wiih  a  chain  of  goM  of  the  value  of 
five  hundred  pounds,  provided  be  would  expunge  from  his 
epic  the  eulo^iums  he  had  bestowed  on  the  Count  of  Gar- 
die,  whom  she  had  disgraced.  The  epical  soul  of  Scud- 
ery ma^animously  scorned  the  bribe,  and  replied,  that '  if 
tho  chain  d*  eold  should  be  as  weighty  as  that  chain  mea- 
tioned  in  the  history  of  the  Incas,  iwiu  never  destroy  any 
altar  on  whkh  I  have  sacrificed !' 

Proud  of  his  boasted  nobility  and  erratic  life,  be  thus  ad- 
dresses the  reader :  *  You  will  lightlr  pass  over  any  fauhs 
in  my  work,  if  you  reflect  that  I  have'eroployed  the  greater 
part  of  my  life  in  seeing  the  finest  parts  of  Europe,  and 
that  I  have  passed  more  days  in  the  camp  than  in  the  1»- 
farary.  I  have  used  more  matches  to  bgfat  my  musket 
than  to  li^ht  my  candles ;  I  know  better  how  to  arrange 
oolumns  m  the  fiekl  than  those  on  paper ;  and  to  square 
battalions  better  than  to  round  periods/  In  his  first  publi- 
eaticm,  he  began  his  literary  career  perfectly  in  character, 
by  a  ehanenge  to  his  critics! 

^  He  is  the  author  of  sixteen  plays,  diiefly  henuc  traga- 
dies ;  children  who  all  bear  the  features  of  their  father. 
He  first  mtroduced  in  his  *  L'Amoor  Tyrannique'  a  strict 
observance  of  the  Aristotelian  unities  of  time  and  place ; 
and  the  necesdty  and  advantages  of  tlus  regulation  ara 
urged,  which  only  shows  that  Aristotle  goes  but  little  to 
the  composition  of  a  pathetic  tragedy.     In  his  last  drSuna, 

*  Arminhls,'  he  extrevagantly  scatters  his  panegyrics  on 
its  fifteen  predecessore ;  but  of  the  present  one  he  has  tb^ 



miMt  exalted  notioa :  it  it  the  qbintessence  of  Scudery  * 
An  iageniooa  critic  c&Uf  it  *  The  downfall  of  mediocrity !' 
[t  ia  amusing  to  listen  to  thia  blazing  preface--**  At  length, 
reader,  nothing  remains  for  me  but  to  mention  the  sreat 
Arm'mius  which  I  now  present  to  vou,  and  bjr  which  Iliave 
resolved  to  cloie  my  long  and  laborious  course.  It  is  in- 
deed my  master-piece !  and  the  most  finished  work  that 
ever  came  from  my  pen ;  (or  whether  we  exanune  the  fable, 
the  manners,  the  sentiments,  or  the  versification,  it  is  cer- 
tain I  hat  I  never  performed  any  thing  so  just,  so  great,  nor 
more  beautiful ;  and  if  my  labours  could  ever  deserve  a 
crown,  I  would  claim  it  for  this  work !' 

The  actions  of  this  singular  personage  were  in  imison 
with  bis  writings :  he  gives  a  pompous  description  of  a 
most  unimportant  sovernment  which  he  obtamed  near 
Marseillea,  but  all  &e  grandeur  existed  only  in  our  au- 
thor's heated  imannatioo.  Bachaumount  ana  De  la  Cha- 
Selle,  two  wits  or  thoeo  times,  in  their  playful  *  Voyage* 
escribe  it  with  humour : 

Mais  11  faut  vous  parler  du  Fort 
Qui  sans  douta  est  une  merveille  ; 
C*est  notre  dame  de  la  garde 
Oouvemement  commoHe  et  beau, 
A  qnl  soffit  pour  tout  garde, 
Un  Suisse  avec  sa  halebarde 
Point  sur  la  porta  du  chateau  ' 

A  fort  very  commodiously  guarded  ;  onl  v  reouiring  one 
sentinel,  and  that  sentinel  a  soldier  painted  on  tne  door ! 

In  a  poem  on  his  disgust  with  the  world,  he  tells  us  how 
intimate  he  has  been  with  princes  :  Europe  has  known 
him  throng  all  her  provinces ;  he  ventured  every  thing  in 
a  thousand  combats : 

L*on  me  vft  obeir,  I'on  me  vH  commander, 
Et  mon  poll  tout  poudreuz  a  blanch!  sous  les  armes ; 
U  est  pen  de  beaux  arts  ou  je  ne  sois  instrnit ; 
En  prose  eten  vers,  mon  nom  fit  qoelque  bruit  *, 
£t  par  plus  d>un  chemin  je  parvina  Ik  la  gloire ! 


Princea  were  proud  my  friendship  to  proclaim. 
And  Europe  gated  wherever  her  Hero  came  ' 
I  Krasp*d  the  laurels  of  heroic  strife, 
The  inousand  perils  of  a  soldier's  life  ! 
Obedient  In  the  ranks  each  toilful  day ! 
Though  heroes  soon  command,  they  first  obey. 
*Twas  not  for  me,  too  long  a  time  to  vield  ! 
Bom  for  a  chiefuin  in  the  tented  field ! 
Around  my  plumed  helm,  my  silveVy  hair 
Hong  like  an  honoured  wreath  of  age  and  care  ; 
The  nnet  arts  have  charmed  my  studious  hours, 
Vers*d  in  their  mysteries,  skilful  in  their  powers ; 
In  verse  and  prose  my  equal  genius  gIow*d, 
Pursuing  glory,  by  no  single  road ! 

Stich  was  tlie  vain  George  Scudery !  whose  heart  bow- 
ever  waa  warm :  povertjr  could  never  degrade  him ;  advert 
aity  never  broke  aown  his  magnanimous  spirit ! 


The  maxims  of  this  noble  authw  are  in  the  hands  of 
every  one.  To  those  who  choose  to  derive  every  motive 
and  every  action  from  the  solitary  principle  of  t^-iovet 
they  are  inestimable.  They  form  one  continued  satire  on 
human  nature ;  but  they  are  not  reconcilable  to  the  feelings 
of  the  man  of  more  generous  dispositions,  or  who  passes 
through  life  with  the  ftrm  integrity  of  virtue.  Even  at  court 
we  find  a  Sully,  a  Malesherbes  and  a  Clarendon,  as  well 
as  a  Rochefoucault  and  a  Chesterfield. 

The  Duke  de  la  Rochefoucault  says  Segrais,  had  not 
atodied ;  but  he  was  endowed  with  a  wonderful  degree  of 
(fiscernment,  and  knew  the  world  perfectly  well.  This 
afforded  him  opportunities  of  making  reflections,  and  re- 
ducing into  maxmis  those  discoveries  which  he  had  made 
in  the  heart  of  man,  of  which  he  displayed  an  admiriid>le 

It  is  perhaps  worthy  of  observation  that  thia  celebrated 
French  duke,  accwdmg  to  Olivet  in-  his  History  of  the 
French  Academy,  could  never  summon  resolution,  at  his 
election,  to  address  the  academy.  Although  chosen 
member,  he  never  entered  ;  for  such  was  his  timidity,  that 
he  could  not  face  an  aixiience  and  pronounce  the  oaual 
compliment  on  his  introduction ;  he  whose  courage,  whose 
birth,  and  whose  genius,  were  alike  distinguished.  The 
fact  is,  that  it  appears  by  Mad.  de  Sevigne,  that  Roche- 

foucault lived  a  ckise  domestic  life ;  and  that  there  most 
be  at  least  as  much  theor^ieal  as  practical  knowledge  in 
the  opinions  of  such  a  retired  philosopher. 

Chesterfield,  our  English  Rochefoucault,  we  are  also  in- 
forified,  possessed  an  admirable  knowledge  of  the  heart  of 
man ;  and  he  too  has  drawn  a  similar  picture  of  human 
nature !  These  are  two  noble  authors  whose  chief  studies 
seem  to  have  been  made  in  courUt.  May  it  not  be  possi- 
ble, allowing  these  authors  not  to  have  written  a  sentence 
of  apocrypha,  that  the  fault  lies  not  so  much  in  kumannt^ 
tun  as  in  the  satellites  of  Power  7 


Were  we  to  investigate  the  genealogy  of  our  beat  mo- 
dem stories,  we  should  often  discover  the  illegitimaoy  of 
oar  favourites ;  we  should  indeed  trace  them  frequently  to 
the  East.  My  wellrread  friend  Mr  Douce,  has  collected 
materials  for  such  a  work ;  but  his  modesty  has  too  long 
prevented  him  from  receiving  the  gratitude  of  the  cniiooi 
u  literature. 

The  atory  of  the  ring  of  Hana  Carvel  is  of  veryandent 
standing^  as  are  moat  of  the  tales  of  this  kind. 

Menage  says  that  Poggius,  who  died  in  1469,  has  the 
merit  of  its  invention ;  but  I  suspect  he  only  related  a  very 
popular  story. 

Rabelais,  who  has  given  it  in  his  peculiar  manner, 
changed  its  original  name  of  Philelphus  to  that  of  Hans 

This  tale  is  likewise  in  the  eleventh  of  Lea  Csnl  iVbv- 
veilet.  iVbuceUes  collected  in  1461,  for  the  amusement  of 
Louis  XI,  when  Dauphin,  and  living  in  solitude. 

Ariosto  has  borrowed  it,  at  the  end  of  his  fifUi  Satire , 
but,  by  his  pleasant  manner  of  relating  it,  it  ia  fairly  appro- 

In  a  collection  of  novels  at  Lyons,  in  1556,  it  is  aIsoem» 
ployed  in  the  eleventh  novel. 

Uelio  Malespini  has  it  again  in  page  S88  of  the  second 
part  of  his  Two  Hundred  Novels,  printed  at  Venice  in 

Fontaine  has  prettily  set  it  oflT,  and  an  anonymous  writer 
has  composed  it  in  Latin  Anacreontic  verses ;  and  at 
length  our  Prior  has  given  it  in  his  best  manner,  with 
equal  gaiety  and  freedom.  After  Ariosto,  La  Fontaine, 
and  Prior,  let  us  hear  of  it  no  more ;  yet  thb  has  been 

Voltaire  has  a  curious  essay  to  show  that  most  of  oar 
best  modern  st<mes  and  pkits  'originally  belonged  to  the 
eastern  nations,  a  fact  which  has  been  made  more  evident 
by  recent  researches.  The  Amphitrion  of  Moliere  was 
an  imitation  of  Plautos,  who  borrowed  it  firom  the  Greeks, 
and  they  took  it  from  the  Indians !  It  is  given  by  Dow  in 
his  Hiptory  of  Hindostan.  In  Captain  Scott's  Tales  and 
Anecdotes  from 'Arabian  writers,  we  are  surprised  at  find- 
ing so  many  of  our  favourites  very  ancient  cH'ientalists.-^ 
The  Ephesian  Matron,  versified  by  La  Fontaine,  waa 
borrowed  from  the  Italians ;  it  is  to  be  found  in  Petnmius, 
and  Petronius  had  it  from  the  Greeks.  But  where  did  the 
Greeks  find  it  ?  In  the  Arabian  Tales !  And  from  whence 
did  the  Arabian  fabulists  borrow  it  ?  From  the  Chinese ! 
It  is  found  in  Du  Halde,  who  collected  it  from  the  Versions 
of  the  Jesuits. 


A  man  of  letters,  who  is  mora  intent  cm  the  acquisitiona 
of  literature  than  on  the  plots  of  pditics,  or  the  speculations 
of  commerce,  will  find  a  deeper  sditude  in  a  populous  me- 
tropolis than  if  he  had  retreated  to  the  seclusioa  of  the 

The  student  who 4s  no  flatterer  of  the  little  passions  of 
men,  will  not  be  much  incommoded  by  their  presence, 
Ghbb<Mi  paints  his  own  situation  in  the  heart  of  the  fashion- 
able world.—*  I  had  not  been  endowed  by  art  or  nature 
with  those  happy  gifts  of  confidence  and  address  which  un- 
lock every  door  and  every  bosom.  While  coachea  were 
rattling  through  Bond-street,  I  have  passed  many  a  solitary 
evening  in  my  lodging  with  my  books.  I  withdrew  without 
reluctance  from  the  noisy  and  extensive  scene  of  crowds 
without  company,  and  dissipation  without  pleasure.'  And 
even  after  he  had  publiahed  the  first  volume  of  his  History, 
he  observes  that  in  London  his  confinement  wss  solitary 
and  sad ;  'the  many  forgot  my  existence  when  they  saw  me 
no  longer  at  Brookes's,  and  the  few  who  sometimes  had  a 
thought  on  their  friend,  were  detained  by  business  or  plea^ 
sure,  and  I  was  proud  and  happy  if  t  could  prevml  on 
my  bookseller  Elmsly  toeritven  the  dulness  of  the  evening. 



A  ntofttkm  Tery  elmntly  dflteribed  in  the  beaiitifony- 
poliibed  verses  of  Mr  Rogers,  in  his  '  Epistle  to  a 
Friend ;' 

When  from  his  classic  dreams  the  student  steals    >■ 
Amid  the  buzz  or  crowds,  the  whirl  of  wheels. 
To  -muse  unnoticed,  while  iround  him  press 
The  meteor-forms  of  equipage  and  dress ; 
Alone  in  wonder  lost,  he  seems  to  stand 
A  very  stranger  In  his  natiTe  land. 

He  compares  the  student  to  one  of  the  sovea  sleepers  in 
the  ancient  legend. 

DetearteM  resiaiag  in  the  comraerdal  chy  of  Amsterdam, 
writing  to  Balzac,  Ulostrates  these  descriptioiis  with  groat 
foree  and  vivacity. 

Ton  wish  to  retire ;  and  yoor  mtentioa  n  to  seek  the  so- 
litude of  the  Chartreuz,  or,  possibly,  some  of  the  moA 
beautiful  provinces  of  France  and  f taly.  I  would  rather 
advise  you,  if  you  wish  to  observe  mankind,  and  at  the 
tame  time  to  loee  youieelf  in  the  deepest  soUtude,  to  j<mi 
me  in  Amsterdam.    I  prefer  this  situation  to  that  even  of 

Car  delicious  villa,  where  I  spent  so  great  a  part  ni  the 
t  year;  for  however  agreeable  a  countiy-house  may  bo, 
a  thousand  little  conveniencies  are  wanted,  which  can  only 
be  found  in  a  city.  One  is  not  alone  so  frequently  in  the 
country  as  one  could  wish :  a  number  of  impertinent  vie i- 
tan  are  continually  beeeismg  you.  Here,  as  all  the  world, 
except  myself,  is  occupied  in  commerce,  it  depends  merely 
on  mjTself  to  live  unknown  to  the  world.  I  walk  every  dav 
amongst  immense  ranks  of  people,  with  as  much  tranquil- 
lity as  you  do  in  your  green  valleys.  The  men  I  meet 
with  make  the  same  impression  on  my  mind  as  woukl  the 
trees  of  your  forests,  or  the  flocks  of  sheep  grazing  on  your 
common.  The  busy  hum  too  of  these  merchants  does  not 
distorb  one  more  than  the  purling  of  your  brooks.  If  some- 
times I  amuse  mysetf  in  contemplatmg  their  anxious  mo- 
tions, I  receive  the  same  pleasure  whidi  you  do  in  observe 
ing  those  men  who  cultivate  your  land ;  for  I  reflect  that 
the  end  of  all  their  labours  is  to  embellish  the  city  which  I 
inhabit,  and  to  anticipate  all  my  wants.  If  you  contem- 
plate ipnth  delight  the  fruits  of  your  orchards,  with  all  the 
rich  promises  of  abundance,  do  you  think  I  feel  less  in  ob- 
serving so  many  fleets  that  convey  to  roe  the  productions 
of  either  India  7  What  spot  on  earth  could  you  find,  which 
like  this,  can  ao  interest  your  vanity  and  gratify  your 


The  Jews  have  their  Talmud ;  the  Catholics  their  Le- 
gends of  Saints ;  and  the  Turks  their  Sonnah.  The  Pro- 
testant has  nothini;  but  his  Bible.  The  former  are  three 
Idndred  works.  Men  have  imagined  that  the  more  there 
is  to  be  believed,  the  more  are  the  merits  of  the  believer. 
Hence  all  tradUAomaU  formed  the  orthodox  and  the  strong- 
est parW.  The  word  of  God  is  kwt  amidst  those  heaps  of 
human  mventkms,  sanctioned  by  an  order  of  men  connect- 
ed with  religious  duties ;  they  ought  now,  however,  to  be 
regarded  rather  as  Curiosities  nf  Literature.  I  give  a 
suffidently  ample  account  of  the  Talmud  and  the  Legends ; 
but  of  the  Sonnah  I  only  know  that  it  is  a  coQection  of  the 
traditional  opinions  of  tne  Turkish  prophets,  diroctittg  the 
observance  of  petty  supovtitions  not  mentumed  in  the 

The  Talmud  is  a  collection  of  Jawbh  traditions,  whicb 
have  been  eroffy  preserved.  It  comprises  the  Mishha, 
whwh  is  the  tezt,  and  the  Gkmara,  its  commentary.  The 
whole  forms  a  eompleto  system  of  the  learning,  ceremo- 
nies, civil  and  canon  laws  of  the  Jews;  treating  indeed  on 
all  subjects ;  even  gardening,  manual  arts,  &c.  The  rigid 
Jews  persuaded  Uiemselves  that  these  traditional  explica- 
tions are  of  divine  origin.  The  Pentateuch,  say  they,  was 
written  out  by  their  legislator  before  his  death  in  thirteen 
copies,  distri^Nited  among  the  twelve  tribes,  and  the  remain- 
ing one  deposited  in  the  ark.  The  oral  law  Moees  con- 
tinually taught  in  the  Sanhedrim,  to  the  eMers  and  the  rest 
of  the  people.  The  law  was  repeated  four  times ;  but  the 
interpretation  was  delivered  only  by  word  ofmouA  from 
ceneration  to  generation.  In  the  fortieth  year  c^  the  flight 
firom  Egypt,  the  memory  of  the  people  became  treacherous, 
and  Mooes  was  constrained  to  repeat  this  oral  law,  which 
had  been  conveyed  bv  successive  traditionists.  Such  is 
the  account  of  honest  David  Levi :  it  is  the  creed  of  evoy 
rabbin.    David  believed  in  every  thing,  but  in  Jesus. 

This  history  of  the  Talmud  some  inclined  to  sop] 
apoerjrphal,  even  among  a  few  of  the  Jews  tl 

When  these  traditions  first  appeared,  the  keenest 
versy  has  never  been  able  to  determine.  It  camiotbed** 
nied  that  there  existed  traditions  among  the  Jews  in  tbn 
time  of  Jesus  Christ.  About  the  soMud  century  ttiey 
were  industriooriy  collected  by  Rabbi  Juda  the  hdy,  thin 
prince  of  the  rabbms,  who  enjoyed  the  fitvoorof  Antommwi 
Pius.  He  has  the  merit  of  givng  some  order  to  this  very 
mukifarions  collection. 

It  appears  that  the  Talmud  was  com|Nled  by  certaio 
Jcwirii  doctors,  who  were  aoficited  for  this  porpoee  by  tbeir 
nation,  that  th^  nu^t  have  something  to  oppose  to  thnir 
Christian  adversaries. 

The  leanicd  W.  Wotton,  in  his  cnrioQa  'Disoonrses'  ob 
the  traditions  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  supplies  an 
analysis  of  this  vast  esUection ;  he  has  translated  entvs 
two  divinons  of  this  code  of  traditional  laws  with  the  on* 
ginal  text  and  the  notes. 

There  are  two  Talmnds :  the  JeriHalem  and  the  Balrf* 
Ionian.  The  last  is  the  most  esteemed,  because  it  is  im 
most  bulky. 

R.  Juda,  the  prince  of  the  rahlaiM,  committed  to  wrilant 
all  these  traditions,  and  arranged  them  mad«r  six  geaerm 
heads,  called  orders  or  classes.  The  subjects  are  indeed 
curious  for  philosophical  inquirers,  and  multiftrious  as  tbe 
events  of  civil  lifo.  Every  order  is  formed  of  fmirfisis  .- 
every  Creofisc  is  divided  into  thapUiM,  every  AatUr  into 
siisbiat,  which  word  means  mixtures  or  mieoeuainea,  in 
the  form  of  opAorusu.  In  tbe  first  part  is  discussed  what 
relates  to  seear,/naCf,  and  tne»  ;  in  the  8econd,/esaCt ;  in 
the  third,  teomen,  their  duties,  their  dtsorvbrs,  innm^gei, 
db'noreec,  emUraeti,  and  nmptudt ;  in  the  fourth,  are  treated 
the  damages  or  losses  sustained  by  beasts  or  men ;  of 
thingt  found;  deponU;  tuuriea;  rtfUM;  fa 
dopa  in  commerce ;  inMeriianee 
wiAieiset ;  arrests ;  idotaby ;  and  here  are  named  those  by 
whom  the  oral  law  was  received  and  preserved.  In  the 
fifth  part  are  noticed  saerifees  and  AotefAmge;  and  the 
sixth  treats  of  pmifieaHaiu;  veneb ;  fimUbtn ;  ebtlmt; 
Aeases;  Upromf ;  bo^;  and  numerous  other  articles.  AU 
this  forms  the  MrsHVA. 

The  Gkmara  that  is,  the  eosiplaneni,  or^c^iBBlisn,  coo- 
tains  the  Himfes  and  the  Qpnnens,  of  the  Rabbivs  en 
the  oral  traditions.  Their  fast  deepens.  It  most  be 
confessed  that  absurdities  are  sometimes  ehicadated  by 
other  absurdities ;  but  timre  are  many  admirable  things  in 
this  vast  repository.  The  Jews  have  such  veneration  for 
this  compilation,  that  they  compare  the  holy  writings  to 
toolcr,  anil  the  Talmud  to  wbu  ;  the  text  of  Moees  topq». 
per,  but  the  Talmud  to  aanmaHa,  Of  the  twelve  hours  of 
which  the  day  is  composed,  they  toll  us  that  God  emplm 
nine  to  study  the  Tahnud,  and  only  three  to  read  die  wni- 

St  Jerome  appears  evidently  to  allude  to  this  work,  and 
notices  its  <  Old  Wives'  Tales,*  and  the  filthiness  of  sane 
of  its  matters.  The  truth  is,  that  the  rabbins  resembled 
the  Jesuits  and  Casuists ;  and  Sancbes's  workon  *  JMsCri- 
mamkf  is  well  known  to  agitato  matters  with  soch  SEnrpn- 
hma  moetice,  as  to  become  me  most  offensive  thing  poasiUe. 
But  as  among  the  schoolmen  and  the  casuislsthere  have 
been  great  men,  the  same  happened  to  theee  gemaraiata. 
Maimonides  was  a  (ullar  of  light  among  their  darkness. 
The  antiquity  of  this  work  is  m  itself  sufficient  to  make  it 
very  curious. 

A  specimen  of  the  topics  may  be  shown  from  the  table 
and  contents  of  <  Mishnic  Titles.'  In  the  order  of  needs, 
we  find  the  following  heads,  which  presents  no  uninterest- 
ing |Mcture  (^the  putoral  and  pious  ceremoiues  of  the  an- 
cient Jews. 

The  Mishna,  entitled  the  Comer,  i.  e.  of  the  field.  The 
laws  of  gleaning  are  commanded  according  to  Leviticns ; 
xix,9, 10.  Ofthe  comer  to  be  left  in  a  corn-field.  When 
the  comer  is  due,  and  when  not.  Of  the  forgotten  sheaf. 
Of  ears  of  com  left  in  gathering.  Of  grapes  left  upon  the 
vine.  Of  olives  left  upon  the  trees.  When  ami  where 
the  poor  may  lawfully  glean.  What  dieaf,  or  olivea,  or 
erspes,  may  be  looked  upon  to  be  forgotten,  and  what  not. 
Who  are  the  proper  witoesses  concerning  the  poor's  Aie, 
to  exempt  it  from  tithin? ,  &c.  They  oistinguish  nncir- 
cumcised  (hiit  >-4t  w  ualawfid  to  eat  of  tbe  fruit  of  any 
tree  till  the  fifth  year  of  its  growth  :  the  first  three  5r^Lra 
of  its  bearing,  it  is  called  undrcumctsed ;  the  fourth  is  of- 
fered to  (Sod ;  and  the  fifth  msy  be  eaten. 

Tbe  Mishna,  entitled  HeUrogtntotu  MtxHtrm,  contains 
several  curious  horticultora)  particulars.    Of  dimaos  he- 


tween  garden-bedB  and  fieldSithat  the  produce  of  the  seve- 
ral florta  of  grains  or  seeds  may  appear  distinct.  Of  the 
distance  between  everv  species.  Distances  between  vines 
blanted  in  corn-fields  from  one  another  and  from  the  com ; 
between  vines  planted  against  hedges,  walls,  or  espaliers, 
and  any  thing  sowed  near  ihem.  Various  causes  relating 
to  vineyards  planted  near  an3r  forbidden  seeds. 

In  their  seventh,  or  sabbatical  year,  in  which  the  pro- 
dace  of  all  estates  was  given  up  to  the  poor,  one  of  their 
regulations  is 'on  tho  different  work  which  must  not  be 
omitted  in  the  sixth  year,  lest  (because  the  seventh  being 
devoted  to  the  poor^  the  produce  should  be  unfairly  dimin- 
ished, and  the  public  benefits  arising  from  this  law  be  frus- 
trated. Of  whatever  is  not  perennial,  and  produced  that 
year  b^  the  earth,  no  money  may  be  made ;  but  what  is 
perennial  may  be  sold. 

On  priest's  tithes,  we  have  a  regulation  concerning  cat- 
tnff  the  fruits  they  are  carrying  to  me  place  where  they  are 
to  oe  separated. 

The  order  of  voonun  is  very  copious.  A  husband  is 
obliged  to  forbid  his  wife  to  keep  a  particular  man's  companv 
before  two  witnesses.  Of  the  waters  of  jealousy  by  whicn 
a  suspected  woman  is  to  be  tried  by  drinkmg,  we  find  many 
ample  particulars.  The  ceremonies  of  clothmg  the  accused 
woman  at  her  trial.  Pregnant  women,  or  who  suckle,  are 
Dot  obliged  to  drink ;  for  me  rabbins  seem  to  be  well  con- 
vinced of  the  effects  of  the  imagination.  Of  their  divorces 
many  are  the  laws ;  and  care  is  taken  to  particularize  bills 
of  divorces  written  bv  men  in  delirium  or  dangerously  ill. 
One  party  of  the  rabbins  will  not  allow  of  any  divorce,  un- 
less something  light  was  found  in  the  woman's  character, 
while  another  (the  Pharisees)  allow  divorces  even  when  a 
woman  has  onlv  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  suffer  her  hus- 
band's soup  to  ne  burnt ! 

In  the  order  c/Cdamagety  containing  rules  how  to  tax  the 
dainages  done  by  man  or  beast,  or  other  casualties,  their 
distinctions  are  as  nice  as  their  cases  are  numerous.  What 
beasts  are  innocent  and  what  convict.  By  the  one  they 
mean  creatures  not  naturally  used  to  do  mischief  in  any 
particular  way ;  and  by  the  other,  those  that  naturally,  or 
by  a  vicious  habit,  are  mischievous  that  way.  The  tooth 
01  a  beast  is  convict  when  it  is  proved  to  eat  its  usual  food, 
the  property  of  another  man ;  and  full  restitution  must  be 
made  ;  but  if  a  beast  that  is  used  to  eat  fruits  and  herbs, 
gnaws  clothes  or  damages  tools,  which  are  not  its  usual 
food,  the  owner  of  the  beast  shall  pay  but  half  the  damage 
when  committed  on  the  property  of  the  injured  nerson ;  but 
if  the  injury  is  committed  on  the  property  or  tho  person 
who  does  the  damage,  ho  is  free,  beicause  tne  beast  gnawed 
what  was  not  its  usual  food.    As  thus ;  if  the  beast  of  A 

fiws  or  tears  the  clothes  of  B,  in  B's  house  or  grounds, 
shall  pa?  half  the  damages ;  but  if  B's  clothes  are  in- 
jured in  A's  grounds  by  A's  beast,  A  is  free,  for  what  had 
B  to  do  to  pot  his  clothes  in  A's  grounds  ?  They  made 
■och  subtile  distinctions,  as  when  an  ox  gores  a  man  or 
beast,  the  law  inquired  into  the  habits  of  the  beast ;  whether 
it  was  an  ox  that  used  to  gore,  or  an  ox  that  was  not  used 
to  gore.  However  these  were  niceties  sometimes  acute, 
they  were  often  ridiculous.  No  beast  could  be  eonvided 
of  being  vicious  till  evidence  was  given  that  he  had  done 
imschief  three  successive  days ;  but  if  he  leaves  off  those 
vicious  tricks  for  three  days  more,  he  is  innocent  again. 
An  ox  may  be  convict  of  goring  an  ox  and  not  a  man,  or  of 
goring  a  man  and  not  an  ox :  nay,  of  goring  on  the  sabbath, 
and  not  a  working  day.  Their  aim  was  to  make  the  pun- 
ishment depend  on  the  proofs  otthederign  of  the  beast  that 
did  the  injury ;  but  this  attempt  evidently  led  them  to  dis- 
tinctions much  too  subtile  and  obscure.  Thus  some  rab* 
bins  say  that  the  morning  pra^or  of  the  Shemah  must  be 
read  at  the  time  they  can  oistinguish  Uue  from  white ;  but 
another,  more  indulgent,  insists  it  may  be  when  we  can 
distingubh  fr/ue  from  green ;  which  latter  colours  are  so 
near  akin  as  to  require  a  stronger  light.  With  the  same 
remarkable  acuteness  in  distinguishing  things,  is  their  law 
respecting  not  touching  fire  on  Uie  sabSath .  Among  those 
which  are  specified  in  this  constitution,  the  rabbins  allow 
the  ramister  to  k>ok  over  young  children  by  lamp-light,  but 
he  shall  not  read  himself.  The  minister  is  forbidden  to 
read  b^  lamp«Iight,  lest  he  should  trim  his  lamp ;  but  he 
may  direct  toe  children  where  they  should  read,  because 
that  is  quidcly  done,  and  there  would  be  no  danger  of  his 
trimnung  his  lamp  in  their  presence,  or  suffering  any  of 
them  to  do  it  in  his.  All  these  regulations,  which  some 
may  conceive  as  nunute  and  frivolous,  show  a  great  inti- 
macy with  the  human  heart,  and  a  spirit  of  profound  obser- 

vation which  had  been  capable  of  achieving  great parposea* 
The  owner  of  an  innocent  beast  only  pays  hair  the  costs 
for  the  mischief  incurred.  Man  is  always  convict,  and  for 
all  mischief  he  does  he  must  pay  full  costs.  However 
there  are  casual  damages,— as  when  a  man  pours  water 
accidentally  on  another  man;  or  makes  a  thon>-hedge 
which  annojrs  his  neighbour ;  or  falling  down,  and  another 
by  stumbling  on  him  incurs  harm ;  how  such  compensations 
are  to  be  made.  He  that  has  a  vessel  of  another's  in 
keeping,  and  removes  it,  but  in  the  removal  bredcs  it^  most 
swear  to  his  own  integrity :  i.  e.  that  he  had  no  design  to 
break  it.  All  offensive  or  noisy  trades  were  to  be  carried 
on  at  a  certain  distance  from  a  town.  Where  there  is  an 
estate,  the  sons  inherit  and  the  daughters  are  maintained ; 
but  if  there  is  not  enough  for  all,  the  daughters  are  main- 
tained, and  the  sons  must  get  their  living  as  they  can.  or 
even  beg.  The  contrary  to  this  excellent  ordination  nas 
been  observed  in  Europe. 

These  few  titles  may  enable  the  reader  to  form  a  gene- 
ral notion  of  the  several  subjects  on  which  the  Mudma 
treats.  The  Gemara  or  Commentary  is  often  overloaded 
with  ineptitudes  and  ridiculous  subtilties.  For  instance,  in 
the  article  of*  Negative  Oaths.'  If  a  man  swears  he  wiQ 
eat  no  bread,  and  does  eat  all  sorts  of  bread,  in  that  case 
the  perjury  is  but  one ;  but  if  he  swears  that  he  will  eat 
neither  barley,  nor  wheaten,  nor  rye-bread,  the  perjury  w 
multiplied  as  he  multiplies  his  eating  of  the  several  sorts. 
Again,  the  Pharisees  and  the  Sadducees  bad  strong 
differences  about  touching  the  holy  writings  with  their 
hands.  The  doctors  ordamed  that  whoever  touched  the 
book  of  the  law  must  not  eat  of  the  truma  (first  firuits  of 
the  wrought  produce  of  the  ground,)  till  they  had  washed 
their  hands.  The  reason  they  gave  was  this.  In  times 
of  persecution  they  used  to  hide  those  sacred  books  in 
secret  places,  and  good  men  would  lay  them  out  of  the 
way  woen  they  had  done  reading  them.  It  was  possible 
then  that  these  rolls  of  the  law  might  be  gnawed  by  mie$. 
The  hands  then  that  touched  these  books  when  they  took 
them  out  of  the  places  where  they  had  laid  ihem  np,  were 
supposed  to  be  unclean,  so  far  as  to  disable  them  fromeafr> 
ing  the  truma  till  they  were  washed.  On  that  account  they 
made  this  a  general  rule,  that  if  any  part  of  the  BiUe  (ex* 
cept  EcdentttteSf  because  that  excellent  book  tl»9ir  sagaci- 
ty accounted  less  holy  than  the  rest)  or  their  f^ylacteries, 
or  the  strings  of  their  phylacteries,  were  touched  by  one 
who  had  a  right  to  eat  the  truma,  he  might  not  eat  it  till  he 
had  washed  his  hands.  An  evidence  or  that  superstitious 
triflmg  for  vriiich  the  Pharisees  and  the  later  Rabbins  have 
been  so  justly  reprobated. 

They  were  absurdly  minute  ^  the  literal  observance  of 
their  vows,  and  as  shamefully  subtile  in  their  artful  evasion 
of  them.  The  Pharisees  could  be  easy  enough  to  them* 
selves  when  convenient,  and  always  as  hard  and  unrelent* 
ing  as  possible  to  all  others.  They  quibbled,  and  dinolTed 
their  vows  with  enerienced  easuistnr.  Jesus  reproaches 
the  Pharisees  in  Matthew  xv,  and  Mark  vii,  for  iiagrantiy 
violating  the  fif^h  commandment,  by  allowing  the  vow  ofa 
son,  perhaps  made  in  hasty  anger,  its  full  force,  when  he 
had  sworn  that  his  father  shoukl  never  be  the  better  for 
him,  or  any  Uiinc  he  had,  and  by  whwh  an  indigent  &ther 
might  be  suffered  to  starve.  There  is  an  express  case  to 
this  purpose  in  the  Mishna,  in  the  title  of  Vcwe,  The 
reader  may  be  amused  by  the  slnry.— A  man  made  a  vow 
that  his/omer  ehoutd  not  pnt/U  bv  hhn.  This  m^n  after- 
wards made  a  wedding-feast  for  his  own  son,  and  wishes 
his  father  should  be  present ;  but  he  cannot  invite  him  be* 
cause  he  is  tied  up  by  his  vow.  He  invented  this  expedi- 
ent:—he  makes  a  eih  of  the  court  in  which  the  feast  was 
to  be  kept,  and  of  tne  feast  itself,  to  a  third  person  in  trtist, 
that  his  father  should  be  invited  by  that  third  persoi  with 
the  other  company  whom  he  at  first  designed.  This  third 
person  then  says,— If  these  things  yon  thus  give  me  ars 
mine,  I  will  dedicate  them  to  God,  and  then  none  of  yoo 
can  be  the  better  for  them.    The  son  replied^~I  dkl  not 

S' ve  them  to  yon  that  yon  should  consecrate  them.  Then 
e  third  man  said,— Yours  was  no  donation,  only  yon 
were  willing  to  eat  and  drink  with  your  father.  Thus. 
says  R.  Juda,  they  dissolved  each  other's  intentions ;  ana 
when  the  case  came  before  the  rabbins,  they  decreed,  diat 
a  gift  whidi  may  not  be  consecrated  by  the  pemon  to  whom 
it  IS  given  is  not  a  gift. 

The  following  extract  from  the  Talmod  exhibits  a  snbtile 
mode  of  reasoning,  which  the  Jews  adopted  wlian  the  learn- 
ed of  Rome  sougnt  to  persuade  them  to  eoofora  to  thmr 
idolatry.    It  forms  an  entire  Mishna*  entitled  MMsrNetim 




An,  AToda  Zara,  w,  7,  on  idolatrooi  worship,  traodated 
ty  Wotton. 

*  Some  Roman  lenatcMrB  examined  the  Jews  in  this  man- 
ner:— If  God  had  nodeluhtin  the  worship  of  idols,  why 
did  he  not  destroy  them  ?  The  Jews  made  answer,— If 
men  had  worshipped  only  thin^  of  which  the  world  had  had 
no  need,  he  would  have  destroyed  the  objects  of  their  wor- 
ship ;  but  they  also  worship  the  sun  and  moon,  stars  and 
planets ;  and  then  he  must  have  destroyed  his  world  for  the 
sake  of  these  deluded  men.  But  stilf,  said  the  Romans, 
why  does  not  God  destroy  the  things  which  the  world  does 
not  want,  and  leave  those  things  which  the  worid  cannot  be 
iR^oul  ?  Because,  replied  the  Jews,  this  would  strength- 
Mi  the  hands  of  such  as  worship  these  necessary  things, 
who  would  then  say,— Ye  allow  now  that  these  are  gods, 
since  they  are  not  destroyed.' 


The  preceding  article  furnishes  some  of  the  more  seri- 
ous investigations  lo  be  found  in  the  Talmud.  Its  levities 
may  amuse.  I  leave  untouched  the  gross  obscenities  and 
immoral  decisions.  The  Talmud  contains  a  vast  oolleo- 
tion  of  stories,  apologies,  and  jests ;  many  display  a  vein 
of  pleasantry,  and  at  times  have  a  wildness  of  invention 
which  sufficiently  mark  the  features  of  an  eastern  parent. 
Many  extravagantly  puerile  were  designed  merely  to  re* 
create  their  young  students.  When  a  rabbin  was  asked 
the  reason  of  so  much  nonsense,  he  replied  that  the  ancients 
had  a  custom  of  introducing  music  in  their  lectures,  which 
accompaniment  made  them  more  agreeable ;  but  that  not 
having  musical  instruments  in  the  schools,  the  rabbins  in- 
wnted  these  strange  stories  to  arouse  attention.  This 
was  mgeniously  said ;  but  thejr  make  miserable  work  when 
they  pretend  to  give  mystkal  interpretations  to  pure  non- 

These  rabbinical  stories,  and  the  leaeitds  of  the  Catho- 
lics, though  Ihey  will  bo  despised,  and  are  too  often  despica- 
ble, yet  as  the  great  Lord  Bacim  said  of  some  of  these  inyeiH 
tions,  they  wmild  *  serve  for  winter  talk  by  the  fire-side  ;* 
and  a  happy  collection  from  these  stories  is  much  wanted. 

In  1711,  a  German  professor  of  the  Oriental  languages, 
Dr  £isenmenger  published  in  two  large  volumes  quarto, 
his  *  Judaism  discovered,'  aponderous  labour,  of  which  the 
scope  was  to  ridicule  the  Jewish  traditions. 

I  shall  give  a  dangerous  adventure  into  which  King  David 
was  drawn  by  the  devil.  The  king  one  day  hunting,  Satan 
appeared  bemre  him  in  the  likeness  of  a  roe.  David  dis- 
cnaned  an  arrow  at  him,  but  missed  his  aim.  He  pursued 
the  feigned  roe  into  the  land  of  the  Philistines.  Ishbi,  the 
brother  of  Goliath,  instantly  recognized  the  king  as  him, 
who  had  slain  that  giant.  He  bound  him,  and  bended  him 
ne^  and  heels,  and  laid  him  under  a  wine-press  in  order  to 
press  him  to  death.  A  miracle  saves  David.  The  earth 
beneath  him  became  soft,  and  Isbbi  could  not  press  wine 
out  of  him.  That  evening  in  the  Jewish  congregation  a 
dove,  whose  wings  were  covered  with  silver,  appeared  in 
great  perplexity ;  and  evidently  signified  the  King  of  Israel 
was  in  trouble.  Abishai,  one  of  the  king's  counsellors,  in- 
quiring for  the  king,  and  finding  him  absent,  is  at  a  Ion  to 
proceed,  for  aocording  to  the  Alishna,  no  one  may  ride  on 
the  king's  horse,  nor  sit  upon  his  throne,  nor  use  nis  scep- 
tre. The  sdiool  of  the  rabbins  however  allowed  these 
things  in  lime  of  danger.  On  this  Abishai  vaults  on  David's 
horse,  and  (with  an  Oriental  metaphor)  the  land  of  the 
Fhifittines  leaped  to  him  instantly!  Arrived  at  Ishbi's 
bouse,  he  beholds  his  mother  Orpa  spinning*  Perceiving 
the  Israelite,  she  snatched  up  her  spinning-wheel  and  threw 
it  at  him,  to  Idll  him ;  but  not  hittmg  him,  she  desired  him 
lo  briiw  the  spinning-wheel  to  her.  He  did  not  do  this  ex- 
actly. DUl  returned  it  to  her  in  such  a  way  that  she  neyer 
asked  any  more  for  her  spinning-wheel.  "VVhen  Isbbi  saw 
this,  and  recollecting  that  David,  though  lied  up  neck  and 
heeli,  was  still  under  the  wine-press,  he  cried  out,  *  There 
are  now  two,  who  wiQ  destrov  me !'  So  he  threw  David 
hi^  up  into  the  air,  and  stuck  his  spear  into  the  ground, 
imagining  that  David  would  fall  upon  it  and  perish.  But 
Abishai  pronounced  the  msgical  name,  which  the  Talmud- 
■ts  frequently  made  use  of,  and  it  caused  David  to  hover  be- 
tween earth  and  heaven,  so  that  he  fell  not  down !  Both 
at  length  unite  against  Isbbi,  and  observing  that  two  young 
lions  sbonU  kill  one  lion,  find  no  difficulty  in  getting  rid  of 
the  brother  of  Goliath. 

Of  Solomon,  another  favourite  hero  of  the  Talmudists  a 
§mb  Arabian  story  is  told.  This  kinc  was  an  adept  in  n^ 
y,  and  a  maU  and  a  female  devil  were  always  in 

wuting  for  any  emergency.  It  is  observable,  that  the , 
bians  who  have  many  stories  concerning  Solomon,  always 
describe  him  as  a  magician.  His  adventures  with  Asrhnww 
dai,  the  prince  of  deinls,  are  numerous ;  and  they  both  (tlM 
kmc  ana  the  devil)  served  one  another  many  a  sUppery 
tridc.  One  of  ihe  most  reuurkable  is  when  Asdimedai, 
who  was  prisoner  to  Solomon,  the  king  having  contrived  Id 
possess  himself  <^  the  devil's  seaWing,  and  diained  him, 
one  day  offered  to  answer  an  unholy  question  put  to  him  by 
Solomon,  provided  he  returned  him  his  seal-riug  and  loose>» 
ed  his  chiun.  The  impertinent  curiosity  of  Solomon  indn* 
ced  him  to  commit  this  folly.  Instantly  Aschmedai  swal- 
lowed the  monarch,  and  stretching  out  his  wings  up  to  tlie 
firmament  of  heaven,  one  of  his  feet  remaining  on  the  earth, 
ha  spit  out  Solomon  four  hundred  leagues  from  him.  This 
was  done  so  privately  that  no  one  knew  any  thing  of  the 
matter.  Aschmedai  then  assumed  the  likeness  ofSolwunu, 
and  sat  on  his  throne.  From  that  hour  did  Solomon  say, 
*  Thia  then  is  the  reward  of  all  my  labour,'  according  to  Ee> 
desiasticus,  i,  3 ;  which  thi$,  means,  one  rabbin  says,  his 
walking  staff;  and  another  insists  was  his  ragged  coat. 
For  SMomon  went  a  begcing  from  door  to  door ;  and  wheiw 
ever  he  came  he  uttered  these  words  :  *  I  the  preacher, 
was  king  over  Israel  in  Jerusalem.'  At  length  coming  be- 
fore the  council,  and  still  repeatiug  these  remarkable  words 
without  addition  or  variation,  Uie  rabbins  said;  *  This 
means  something ;  for  a  fool  is  not  constant  in  his  tale  * 
They  asked  the  chamberlain  if  the  king  frequently  saw 
him  7  and  he  repUed  to  them.  No !    then  they  sent  to  the 

aueens,  to  ask  if  the  kins  came  into  their  aputments  7  and 
liey  answered,  Tes !  The  rabbins  then  sent  them  a  met* 
sage  to  take  notice  of  hb  feet ;  for  the  feet  of  devils  are  like 
the  feel  </ cocks.  The  queens  acquainted  them  that  his 
majesty  always  came  in  slippers,  but  forced  them  to  em- 
braces at  times  forbidden  by  the  law.  He  had  attempted 
to  lie  with  his  mother  Bathsneba,  whom  he  had  almost  torn 
to  pieces.  At  this  the  rabbins  assembled  m  great  haste, 
and  taking  the  beggar  with  them,  they  gave  him  the  ring 
and  the  chain  in  w£ch  the  great  magical  name  was  engrsf- 
ven,  and  led  him  to  thepalace.  Aschmedai  was  sitting  on 
the  throne  as  the  real  Solmnon  entered ;  but  instantly  hu 
shrieked  and  flew  away.  Yet  to  his  last  day  was  Sotomoo 
afraid  of  the  prince  of  devils,  and  had  his  bed  guarded  by 
the  valiant  men  of  Israel,  as  is  vrritten  in  Cant,  in,  7, 8. 

They  frequently  display  much  humour  in  their  inyen- 
tions,  as  in  ine  followiog  account  of  the  manners  and  mo- 
rals of  an  infamous  town  which  derided  all  justice.  Then 
were  in  Sodom  four  judges,  who  were  liars,  and  deriders  of 
justice.  When  any  one  had  struck  his  neighbour's  wife 
and  caused  her  to  miscarry,  these  judges  thus  counselled 
the  husband  ;  <  Give  her  to  the  offender  that  he  may  get  her 
with  child  for  thee.'  Whto  any  one  had  cut  off  an  ear  of 
his  neighbour's  ass,  they  sud  to  the  owner,—*  Let  bun 
have  the  ass  till  the  ear  is  grown  again,  that  it  may  bo  re- 
turned to  thee  as  ihuu  wishest.'  When  any  one  had 
wounded  his  neighbour,  they  told  the  wounded  man  to '  nve 
him  a  fee,  for  letting  him  blood.'  A  toll  was  exacted  in 
passing  a  certain  bridge ;  but  if  any  one  choae  lo  wade 
through  the  water,  or  walk  round  about  to  save  it,  he  was 
condemned  to  a  double  toll.  Eleasar,  Abraham's  servant, 
came  thither,  and  they  wounded  him.— When  before  the 
judge  he  was  ordered  to  pay  his  fee  for  having  his  blood 
let,  Eleasar  flung  a  stone  at  the  judee  and  wounded  him ; 
on  which  the  judge  said  to  him,— What  meaneth  this  7 
Eleasar  repliea,--4Giive  him  who  wounded  me  the  fee  th^ 
is  due  to  myself  for  wounding  thee.  The  people  of  this 
town  had  a  bedstead  on  which  they  laid  trayellers  who  ask- 
ed to  rest.  If  any  one  was  too  long  for  it,  they  cut  off  his 
legs ;  and  if  he  vras  shorter  than  the  bedstead,  they  strained 
him  to  its  head  and  foot.  When  a  beggar  came  to  this 
town,  every  one  gave  him  a  penny,  on  which  was  inscrib- 
ed the  donor's  name ;  but  tney  would  sell  him  no  bread, 
nor  let  him  escape.  When  the  beggar  died  from  hunger, 
then  they  came  about  him,  and  each  man  took  back  nis 
penny.  These  stories  are  curious  inventions  of  keen 
modcerv  and  malice,  seasoned  with  humour.  It  is  said 
some  of  the  famous  decisions  of  Sancho  Panza  are  to  be 
found  in  the  Talmud. 

Abraham  is  sadd  to  have  been  jealous  of  his  wives,  and 
built  an  enchanted  city  for  them.  He  built  an  iron  dty 
and  put  them  in. — The  walls  were  so  high  and  dark  the 
sun  could  not  be  seen  in  it.  He  gave  them  a  bowl  full 
of  pearls  and  jewels,  which  sent  forth  a  light  in  this  dark 
city  equal  to  the  sun.  Noah,  it  seems,  when  in  the  aik 
had  no  ocfaar  light  than  jewels  and  pearls.    Abraham  m 



travelling  to  Egypt  brought  with  him  a  chest.  At  the  cus- 
tom-house the  officers  exacted  the  duties.  Abraham  would 
have  readily  paid,  but  desired  they  would  not  open  the  chest. 
They  first  msisted  on  the  duty  for  clothesi  which  Abraham 
consented  to  pay ;  but  then  tney  thought  by  his  ready  ac- 
quiescence that  it  might  be  gold.— Abraham  consents  to 
pay  for  gold.  They  now  suspected  it  might  be  silk.  Abra- 
nam  was  willing  to  pav  ibr  silk,  or  more  costly  pearls ; 
and  Abraham  generously  consented  to  pay  as  if  the  chest 
contained  the  most  valuaole  of  things.  It  was  then  they  re- 
solved to  open  and  examine  the  chest.  And  behold  as 
soon  as  the  chest  was  opened,  that  great  lustre  of  human 
beauty  broke  out  which  made  such  a  noise  in  the  land  of 
Egypt ;  it  was  Sarah  herself!  The  jealous  Abraham,  to 
conceal  her  beauty  had  locked  her  up  in  this  chest. 

The  whole  creation  in  these  rabbimcal  fancies  is  strange- 
ly gigantic  and  vast.  The  works  of  eastern  nations  are 
lull  of  these  descriptions ;  and  Hesiod's  Theogony,  and 
Milum*s  battles  of  angels,  are  puny  in  comparison  with 
these  rabbinical  heroes,  or  rabbinical  things.  Mountains 
are  hurled  with  all  their  woods  with  great  ease,  and  crea- 
tures start  into  existence  too  terrible  for  our  conceptions. 
The  winged  monster  in  tlie  <  Arabian  Nights,'  called  the 
Roc,  is  evidently  one  of  the  creatures  of  rabbinical  fancy ; 
it  would  sometimes,  when  very  hungry,  seize  and  fly  away 
with  an  elephant.  Captain  Cook  found  a  bird's  nest  in  an 
island  near  New-Holland,  built  with  sticks  on  the  ground, 
six-and-twenty  feet  in  circumference,  and  near  three  feet 
in  height.  But  of  the  rabbinical  birds,  fish,  and  animals,  it 
is  not  probable  any  circumnavigator  will  ever  trace  even 
..e  slightest  vestige  or  reseniblaiico. 

One  of  their  birds,  when  it  spreads  its  wings,  blots  out  tlie 
sun.  An  egg  from  another  fell  out  of  its  nest,  and  thi)  white 
thereof  broke  and  f;Iucd  about  three  hundred  cedar-trees, 
and  overflowed  a  village.  One  of  them  stands  up  to  the 
lower  joint  of  the  leg  in  a  river,  and  some  mariners  imagin- 
ing the  water  was  not  deep,  were  hasting  to  bathe,  when  a 
voice  from  heaven  said, — '  Step  not  in  there,  for  seven 
years  ago  there  a  carpenter  dropped  his  axe,  and  it  hath 
notyet reached  the  bottom.' 

The  following  passage  concerning  fat  geese  is  perfectly 
in  the  style  of  these  rabbins.  '  A  rabbin  once  saw  in  a  de- 
sert a  flock  of  geese  so  fat  that  their  feathers  fell  off,  and 
the  rivers  flowed  in  fat.  Then  said  I  to  them,  shall  we 
have  part  of  you  in  the  other  world  when  the  Messiah 
shall  come?  And  one  of  them  lifted  up  a  wing,  and  another 
a  leg,  to  signify  these  parts  we  should  have.  We  should 
otherwise  have  had  all  parts  of  those  geese ;  but  we  Israel- 
ites shall  be  called  to  an  account  touching  these  fat  ^eese, 
liecause  their  suiTerings  are  owing  to  us.  It  is  our  miqni- 
ties  that  have  delayed  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  and 
these  geese  suffer  greatly  by  reason  of  their  excessive  fat, 
which  duly  and  daily  increases,  and  will  increase  till  the 
Messiah  comes !' 

What  the  manna  was  which  fell  in  the  wilderness  has 
often  been  disputed,  and  still  is  disputable  :  it  was  suffi- 
cient for  the  rabbins  to  have  found  in  the  Bible  that  the  taste 
of  it  was  '  as  a  wafer  made  with  honey,'  to  have  raised 
their  fancy  to  its  pitch.  They  declare  it  was  '  like  oil  to 
children,  honey  to  old  men,  and  cakes  to  middle  age.'  It 
had  every  kind  of  taste  except  that  of  cucumbers,  melons, 
garlic,  and  onions,  and  leeks,  for  these  were  those  Egyp- 
tian roots  which  the  Israelites  so  much  regretted  to  have 
lost.  This  manna  had,  however,  the  quality  to  accomo- 
date itself  to  the  palate  of  those  who  did  not  murmur  in  the 
wUdemess  :  and  to  these  it  became  fish,  flesh,  or  fowl. 

The  rabbins  never  advance  an  absurdity  without  quoting 
a  text  in  scripture  ;  and  to  substantiate  this  fact  they  quote 
Deut.  ii,  7,  where  it  is  said,  *  through  this  great  wilderness, 
these  forty  years  the  Lord  thy  G»i  hath  been  with  Uiee, 
and  thou  hast  lacked  nothing  P  St  Austin  repeats  this  ex- 
planation of  the  rabbins,  that  the  faithful  found  in  this 
manna  the  taste  of  their  favourite  food!  However  the 
Israelites  could  not  have  found  all  these  benefits  as  the 
rabbins  tell  us,  for  in  Numbers  xi,  6,  they  exclaim,  *  There 
18  nothing  at  aU^  bendts  thi  snumna  before  our  eyes !'  They 
had  just  said  that  they  remembered  the  melons,  cucumbers, 
&e,  which  they  had  eaten  of  so  freelv  in  E^rypt.  One  of 
the  hyperboles  of  the  rabbins  is,  that  the  manna  fell  in  such 
mountains  that  the  kings  of  the  east  and  the  west  beheld 
them ;  which  they  found  in  a  passage  in  the  2Sd  Psalm : 
Thou  preparest  a  table  before  roe  in  the  presence  of 
mine  enemies !'  These  may  serve  as  specimens  of  the 
forced  interpretatioos  on  which  their  grotesque  fah»»  are 

Their  detestation  of  Titus,  their  great  conqueror,  ap- 
pears by  the  following  wild  invention.— After  having  nar- 
rated certain  things  too  shameful  to  read,  of  a  prince  whom 
Josephus  describes  in  far  different  colours,  they  tell  us  that 
on  sea  Titus  tauntingly  observed  in  a  great  storm  that  the 
God  of  the  Jews  was  only  powerful  on  the  water,  and  that 
therefore  he  bad  succeeded  m  drowning  Pharaoh  and  Sisrm. 
*  Had  he  been  strong  he  would  have  waged  war  with  me 
in  Jerusalem.'  On  uttering  this  blasphemy,  a  voice  from 
heaven  said,  *  Wicked  man !  I  have  a  little  creature  in  th« 
world  which  shall  waee  war  with  tlieo!'  When  Titus 
landed,  a  gnat  enteredliis  nostrils,  and  for  seven  years  t<^ 
gether  made  holes  in  his  brains.  When  his  skull  waa 
opened  the  gnat  was  found  as  large  as  a  pigeon :  the  mouth 
of  the  gnat  was  of  copper  and  the  claws  ofiron. 

That  however  there  are  some  beautiful  inventions  in  tha 
Talmud,  I  refer  to  the  story  of 'Solomon  and  Sbeba,*  in 
the  present  collections. 


It  is  probable  that  this  custom,  so  universally  prevalent, 
originated  in  some  ancient  superstition ;  it  seems  to  have 
excited  inquiry  among  all  nations. 

Some  Catholics,  says  Father  Feyjoo,  have  attributed 
the  origin  of  this  custom  to  the  ordinance  of  a  pope,  Saint 
Gregory — who  is  said  to  have  instituted  a  short  benedio* 
tion  to  be  used  on  such  occasions,  at  a  time  when,  during 
a  pestilence,  the  crisis  was  attended  by  tneezingf  and  in 
must  cases  followed  by  dtath. 

But  the  Rabbins  who  have  a  story  for  erery  thing,  say, 
that  before  Jacob,  men  never  sneezed  but  once,  and  then 
immediately  died  :  they  atcsure  us  that  that  patriarch  waa 
the  first  who  died  by  natural  disease,  before  him  all  men 
died  by  sneezing;  the  memory  of  which  was  ordered  to  be 

K reserved  in  all  naiiona  by  a  command  of  every  prince  to 
is  subjects  to  employ  some  salutary  exclamation  after  the 
act  of  sneezing.  But  these  are  Talmudical  dreams,  and 
only  serve  to  prove  that  so  ftimiliar  a  custonik  baa  always 
created  inquiry.  , 

Even  Aristotle  has  delivered  some  considerable  noii* 
sense  on  this  custom ;  he  says  it  is  an  honourable  acknow- 
ledement  of  the  seat  of  good  sense  and  genius— the  bead- 
to  distinguish  it  from  two  other  offensive  eruptions  of  air, 
which  are  never  accompanied  by  any  benediction  from  the 
by-standers.  The  custom  at  all  events  existed  lon^  pnor 
to  Pope  Gregory.  The  lover  in  Apulieus,  Gyton  m  Pe* 
tronius,  and  allusions  to  it  in  Pliny,  prove  its  antiquity; 
and  a  memoir  of  the  French  academy  notices  the  practice 
in  the  New  World  on  the  first  discovery  of  America. 
Every  where  man  is  saluted  for  sneezing. 

An  amusing  account  of  the  ceremonies  which  attend 
the  Meeting  of  a  king  of  Menomotapa,  shows  what  a  n»> 
tional  concern  may  be  the  sneeze  of  despotism.— Those 
who  are  near  his  person,  when  tliis  happens^  salute  him  in 
so  loud  a  tone  that  persons  in  the  anticnamber  hear  it  and 
join  in  the  acclamation  ;  in  the  adjoining  apartments  they 
do  the  same,  till  the  noise  reaches  the  street,  and  becomes 
propagated  throughout  the  city ;  so  that  at  each  sneeze  of 
nis  majesty,  results  a  most  horrid  cry  from  the  salutations 
of  many  thousands  of  his  vassals. 

When  the  king  of  Sennaar  sneezes,  his  courtiers  irome* 
diately  turn  their  backs  on  him,  and  give  a  loud  slap  on 
their  right  thigh. 

With  the  ancients  sneezing  was  ominous;  from  the 
right  it  was  considered  auspicious ;  and  Plutarch,  in  his 
life  of  Themistocles,  says,  that  before  a  naval  battle  it  was 
a  sign  of  conquest !  Catullus,  in  bis  pleasing  poem  of  Acme 
and  SeptimiuB,  makes  this  action  from  the  d  3ity  of  Lovo 
from  the  left  the  source  of  his  fiction.  The  passage  has 
been  elegantly  versified  by  a  poetical  friend,  who  finds  an* 
thority  that  the  gods  sneezing  on  the  right  in  Aesten,  it 
supposed  to  come  to  us  on  earth  on  the  /^. 

Cupid  sneezing  In  his  flight 
Once  was  heard  upon  the  right, 
Boding  wo  to  lovers  true  } 
But  now  upon  the  lefl  he  flew. 
And  with  sportive  sneeze  divine. 
Gave  of  joy  the  sacred  sign. 
Acme  bcni  her  lovely  face, 
Flushed  with  rapture's  rosy  grace, 
And  those  eyes  that  swam  in  bliss, 
PresH  with  nfany  a  breathing  kiss; 
Breathing,  murmuring,  soft,  and  low 
Thus  might  life  Ibr  ever  flow ! 
*  Love  of  my  life,  and  life  of  love ' 
Cupid  rules  our  fates  above. 



Ever  let  us  tow  to  Join 
la  hofOBge  at  his  happj  shrine.* 
Cnpld  heard  the  lovers  true, 
Again  upon  the  left  be  flew. 
And  wiin  sportive  sneeie  dtvioe, 
RenewM  of  joy  the  sacred  sign. 


A  hftppy  art  in  the  relatioo  of  t  stoiy  is,  doubtless,  a 
very  agreeable  talenCr— it  has  obtained  La  Fontaine  all  the 
applauae  bis  charming  nameii  deserves. 

Bonaventwre  de  Perien,  Valet  de  Ckambn  de  la  Bogfu 
d»  Navarre,*  of  whom  the  French  have  three  little  volumes 
of  tales  in  prose,  shows  that  pleasantrr  and  sportive  vein 
m  which  the  tales  of  that  time  frequentlj  abound.  The  fol- 
lowing short  anecdote  is  not  given  as  the  best  specimen  of 
our  author,  but  as  it  introduces  a  novel  etymology  of  a 
word  in  great  use. 

*  A  student  at  law,  who  studied  at  Poitiers,  had  toler»- 
bly  improved  himself  in  cases  of  e<{uitv ;  not  that  he  was 
overburdened  with  learning,  but  bis  cnief  deficiency  was 
a  vrant  of  assurance  and  confidence  to  display  his  know- 
ledge. His  father  passing  by  Poitiers,  recommended  him 
to  read  aloud,  and  to  render  his  memnry  more  prompt  by 
continued  exercise.  To  obey  the  injuncliona  of  his  father 
he  determined  to  read  at  the  Munatery,  In  order  to  ob- 
tain a  certain  assurance,  he  went  every  day  into  a  garden, 
which  was  a  very  secret  spot,  being  at  a  distance  from 
any  bouse,  and  where  there  grew  a  great  number  of  fine 
large  cabbages.  Thus  for  a  long  time  he  pursued  his  stu- 
dies, and  repeated  his  lectures  to  these  cabbages,  address- 
ing them  by  the  title  of  geniUmen ;  and  balancing  his  pe- 
riods to  them  as  if  they  had  composed  an  audience  of  scho- 
lars. After  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks  preparation,  he 
thoujght  it  was  hi^  time  to  take  the  chair;  imagining  that 
he  should  be  able  to  lecture  his  scholars  as  well  as  he  had 
before  done  his  cabbages.  He  comes  forward,  he  begins 
his  oratiun^-but  before  a  dozen  words  hts  tongue  freezes 
between  his  teeth !  Confused  and  hardly  knowing  where 
he  was,  all  he  could  bring  out  was — iJominij  Ego  6ene 
v«ieo  jiiod  nofi  etfis  eaaites ;  that  is  to  say— for  there  are 
some  who  will  have  every  thing  in  plain  English— Genile- 
niew,  I  nam  dearty  see  you  are  not  eabbagea  !  In  the  garden 
be  couM  conceive  the  calAagea  to  be  aeholare ;  but  in  the 
^air,  he  could  not  conceive  the  tcholare  to  be  eabbagte.' 

(hi  this  story  La  Monno^e  has  a  note,  which  gives  a 
new  origin  to  a  fiimiliar  term. 

'  The  hall  of  the  School  of  Equity  at  Poitiers,  where  the 
ittttitutes  were  read,  was  called  La  MxnUlerie.  On  which 
head,  Florimond  de  Remond  (book  vii,  cb.  II,)  speaking 
of  Albert  Babinot,one  of  the  first  disciples  of  Calvm,  after 
having  said  he  was  called  *  The  good  man,*  adds,  that  be- 
cause he  had  been  a  studerl  of  the  institutes  at  this  JUinas- 
ferie  of  Poitiers,  Calvin,  and  others,  stjrled  him  Mr  Minia^ 
ter;  firom  whence,  afterwards.  Colon  took  occasion  to 
give  the  name  of  MiNiSTsms  to  the  pastors  of  his  church. 


The  life  of  Grotius  has  been  written  by  De  Burigny ;  it 
riwwf  the  singular  felicity  of  a  man  of  letters  and  a  states- 
man ;  and  in  what  manner  a  student  can  pass  his  houn  in 
the  closrat  imprisonment.  The  gate  of  the  prison  has 
sometimes  been  the  porch  of  fame. 

Grotius  was  bom  with  the  happiest  dispositions;  stu- 
dious from  his  infancy,  bo  had  also  received  from  Nature 
the  nualities  of  genius;  and  was  so  fortunate  as  to  find  in 
his  uither  a  tutor  who  had  formed  his  early  taste  and  his 
moral  feelings.  The  younger  Grotius,  in  imitation  of 
Horace,  has  celebrated  his  gratitude  in  verse. 

One  of  the  moat  interesting  circumstances  in  the  life  of 
this  great  man,  which  strong^  maiks  his  genius  and  for- 
titude, is  displayed  in  the  manner  in  whka  be  employed 
his  time  during  his  imprisonment.  Other  men,  con- 
demned to  exile  and  captirity,  if  they  survive,  they  de- 
spair :  the  man  of  letters  coimts  thooe  days  as  the  sweetest 
of  his  life. 

When  a  prisoner  at  the  Hague,  he  laboured  on  a  Latin 
Msay  on  the  means  of  terminatmg  religious  disputes,  which 
occasion  so  many  mfolicities  in  the  state,  in  the  church, 
and  in  families ;  when  be  was  carried  to  Louvestein,  he  re- 
sumed his  law  studies,  which  other  empk^ments  had  in- 
tMTVpted.  He  gave  a  portion  of  Kb  time  to  moral  philoso- 
phy, which,  engaged  bim  to  translate  the  maxims  of  the  an- 
cient poets,  collected  by  Stobaeus,  and  the  fragments  of 
Menander  anJ  Philemon.     Kvrnr  Sunday  was  devoted  to 

read  the  scriptures,  and  to  write  his  Commentariet  ol  ^^^ 
New  Testament.  In  the  course  of  this  vrork  he  feB  ill,  bat 
as  soon  as  he  recbvered  his  health  he  composed  his  treatisn, 
in  Dutch  verse,  on  the  Truth  of  the  Christian  ReJigkm. 
Sacred  and  praiaae  authors  occupied  him  alteniatdy .  Wm 
<mly  mode  of  refreshing  his  mind  was  to  pass  liom  snn 
wont  to  another.  He  sent  to  Yosaitts  his  Observations  oh 
the  Tragedies  <^Scaieca.  He  wrote  several  other  works  s 
particulariy  a  little  Catedusm,  in  verse,  for  his  dan^tar 
Gometia:  and  collected  materials  to  form  his  AjMNOgv. 
Add  to  these  various  labours  and  extensive  oorrespoodenon 
be  heki  with  the  learned  and  his  friends ;  and  his  lectesn 
wwe  often  so  many  treatises.  There  is  a  printed  eoUee* 
tion  amounting  to  two  thousand.  Grotias  had  notes  rtmdf 
for  every  classical  author  of  antiqui^  whenever  they  pre- 
pared a  new  edition ;  an  account  of  his  plans  and  his  per* 
tbrmaaces  might  furnish  a  vdume  of  themselves ;  yet  bn 
never  pubhshed  in  haste,  and  was  fond  of  revising  them; 
we  must  recollect,  notwithstanding  such  intorupted  litevsjj 
avocations,  his  hours  were  lirequently  devoted  to  the  puboe 
functions  of  an  ambassador.  *  I  only  reserve  for  nqr  sta- 
dies  the  time  wbidi  other  ministers  give  to  their  pleasarss, 
to  conversaUons  often  useless,  and  to  visite  sometimes  niH 
necessary ;'  such  is  the  language  of  this  great  man !  At 
though  he  thus  produced  abun<Mntly,  his  eonfinemeat  was 
not  more  than  two  years.  We  may  well  exdaim  hen, 
that  the  mind  of  Grotius  had  never  been  imprisoned. 

Perhaps  the  most  sincere  milogium,  and  the  most  grate- 
ful to  this  illustrious  scholar,  was  that  which  he  received  at 
the  hour  of  his  death. 

When  this  great  man  was  travelling,  beHvas  suddenly 
strudt  by  the  hand  of  death,  at  the  village  of  Rostock. 
The  pansh  minister,  who  was  called  in  his  last  moments, 
ignorant  who  the  dying  man  was,  began  to  go  over  the  osnal 
points ;  but  Grotius,  who  saw  there  was  no  time  to  kise  in 
exhortations,  turned  to  him,  and  toM  him,  that  he  needed 
them  not ;  and  concluded  by  saying,  8mm  GraCnts-^  am 
Grotius.  7N<  magnue  Hie  Grotina  f-^  What !  are  yon  the 
great  Grotius  V  interrogated  the  minister. — ^What  an  e«^ 
logium !  This  anecdote  seems,  however,  apocryphal ;  for 
we  have  a  narrative  of  his  death  by  the  ctergymaa  hiss- 
self.  On  the  death  o€  Grotius  a  variety  of  tales  wem 
spread  concerning  his  manner  of  dying  rwsed  by  different 

In  the  approbation  of  the  eenaear  to  print  tins  *  Vie  ds 
Grotius,*  it  is  observed  that  while  *  his  history  gives  os  a 
clear  idea  of  the  extmt  of  tne  human  nund,  it  wdl  finther 
inform  us,  that  Grotius  died  without  reaping  any  advaatags 
from  his  great  talents.' 

iroBLEicur  nrursD  cnincs. 

I  offer  to  the  contemplation  of  those  imfortnnats  mortals 
who  are  nedfcssitated  to  undergo  the  criticisms  of  krda^ 
this  pair  of  anecdotes— 

Soderini,  the  Gonfaloniere  of  Florence,  having  had  a 
states  made  by  the  great  Michael  Angeh,  when  it  was 
finished  came  to  inspect  it ;  and  baring  for  some  time  saga- 
ciously considered  it,  poring  now  on  the  face,  then  on  us 
arms,  the  knees,  the  form  m*  the  leg,  and  at  length  on  the 
foot  itself;  the  stetue  being  of  such  perfect  beauty,  he  found 
himself  at  a  loss  to  display  his  powers  of  criticum,  hot  by 
lavishing  his  praise.  But  only  to  praise,  might  appear  as 
if  there  bad  been  an  obtoseness  in  the  keenness  of  nis  cr^ 
tic'isra.  He  trembled  to  find  a  foolt,  but  a  fonit  oaust  be 
found.  At  length  he  ventured  to  mutter  somediing  con- 
cerning the  nose ;  it  might,  he  thought,  be  something  mors 
Grecian.  Angth  differed  from  his  grace,  but  be  said  bs 
would  attempt  to  gratify  bis  taste.  He  took  up  his  chisel, 
aikl  concealed  some  marMe  dust  in  his  hand ;  feigning  to 
retouch  the  part,  he  adroitly  let  fall  soom  of  the  dust  hs 
held  concealed.  The  cardmal  obserring  it  as  it  f^  tran- 
sported at  the  idea  of  bis  critical  acumen,  exclaimed— 
*  Ah,  Angdo  I  you  have  now  given  an  inimitable  grace.' 

When  Pope  was  first  introduced  to  read  his  Iliad  to  Lord 
Halifax,  the  noble  critic  did  not  venture  to  be  dissatisfisd 
with  so  perfect  a  composition ;  but,  like  the  cardinal,  this 
passage,  and  that  word,  this  turn,  and  that  expr««siQn« 
formed  die  broken  cant  df  his  criticisms.  The  honest  post 
was  stung  with  vexation ;  for,  in  general,  the  parte  at  which 
his  lordship  heaiteted  were  those  of  whidi  he  vras  most  sar 
tisfied.  As  he  returned  home  with  Sir  Samuel  Garth  be 
revealed  to  him  the  anxiety  of  mind.  *  Oh/  rejrfied  Garth, 
laughing,  *  you  are  not  so  well  acquainted  with  his  lordship 
as  myself;  he  man  criiicise.  At  your  next  visit  read  to 
him  those  very  paf«a«es  a«  ihev  noiv  s*and;  tell  him  that 



voM  Invo  recollected  his  cntkntms ;  uid  ni  wumnt  you 
of  hia  Approbation  of  them.  Thie  is  what  I  have  dooe  a 
hundrca  tiowa  mjeelf.'  Pope  made  iiae  of  thie  atratagem ; 
it  loc4,  like  the  marble  duet  ofAngdo  ,*  and  my  lord,  like 
the  cardinali  exclaimed— <  Dear  Pope,  they  are  now  ini- 

LITSKUIT  ixpoaTuxse. 

Some  authore  have  practieed  eingular  impoeitiona  on  the 
jNiblic.  Varillaa,  the  French  hietorian,  enjoyed  for  eome 
time  a  great  reputation  in  hie  own  country  Tor  hie  bietoric 
oompoeitiona,  but  when  they  became  more  known,  the  echo- 
lare  of  other  countriee  deetroyed  the  reputation  he  had  un« 
juetly  acquired.  Hie  continual  pn^eeeione  of  eincerity 
prejudiced  many  in  hie  faTour,  and  made  him  paee  far  a 
writer  who  had  penetrated  into  the  inmoet  receeeee  of  the 
cabinet ;  but  the  public  were  at  len^h  undeceived,  and 
were  conTinced  that  the  hietorical  anecdotee  which  VarU- 
lae  pot  off  for  authentic  facte  had  no  foundation,  being 
wholly  hie  own  inventing  :•— though  he  eodeayoured  to 
nwke  them  paee  fi>r  realitiee  by  affected  citatione  of  titlee, 
inetnictione,  lettere,  memoire,  and  relatione,  all  of  them 
imaginary  !*  He  liad  read  almoat  e?^  thing  hiatorica), 
printed  and  manuecript ;  but  he  had  a  fertile  pditical  imao 
gination,  and  gave  hie  conjecluree  ae  facte,  while  he  quoted 
at  random  hie  pretended  authoritiee.  Buraet'e  book  agunet 
Varillae  ie  a  curioue  little  volume. 

Gemelli  Carreri,  a  Neapolitan  gentleman,  for  many 
yeara  never  quitted  hie  chamber ;  con6ned  by  a  tedioue  ii>- 
diepoeitioo,  he  aroueed  himeeU*  with  writing  a  Foyo^e  nund 
fjbe  World ;  giring  charactera  of  men,  and  deecriptione  of 
countriee,  ae  if  he  had  really  vieited  them ;  and  hie  volumee 
are  etill  very  intereeting.  Du  Halde,  who  hae  written  eo 
voluminoue  an  account  of  China,  compiled  it  from  the  Me- 
moire ^  the  mieeiooanee,  and  never  travelled  ten  leasee 
from  Parie  m  hia  life ;  though  he  appeare,  by  hie  writmga, 
to  be  very  familiar  with  Chineee  ecenery. 

Dambercer'a  travela,  more  recently  made  a  great  aen- 
aatioo— and  the  public  were  duped ;  they  proved  to  be  the 
ideal  f  oyagee  of  a  member  or  the  German  Gnib-etreet, 
about  hie  own  garret !  Too  many  of  our  <  Traveie'  have 
been  manufactured  to  fill  a  certau  eize ;  and  eome  which 
bear  namea  of  great  authority,  were  not  written  by  the  pro- 
feeeed  authore, 

Thia  ie  an  excellent  obeerration  of  an  anonyrooua  au- 
thor :— *  lontere  who  never  vieited  foreign  countriee,  ud 
trav^Un  who  have  run  through  immenee  regione  with  fleet- 
ing pace,  have  given  ue  long  accounte  of  variooe  countriee 
and  people ;  evidently  collected  from  the  idle  reporta  and 
abaurd  traditione  of  the  ignorant  mlgar,  from  wnom  only 
they  coukl  have  received  thoee  raiatione  which  we  eee 
accumulated  with  euch  undiecerning  credulity.' 

Some  authore  have  practieed  the  eingular  uipoeition  of 
announcing  a  variety  of  titlee  of  worke  ae  if  preparing  for 
the  prate,  W  of  which  nothing  but  the  titlee  have  been 

Paechal,  hietoriographer  of  France,  had  a  reaeon  for 
theee  ingenioua  inventione ;  he  continuall v  announced  euch 
titlee,  that  hie  peneion  for  writing  oo  the  nietory  of  France 
flDight not  be  etopped.  When  he  died,  hia  hietoncal  laboura 
(bf  not  exceed  eix  pagee ! 

Grogorio  Reti  ia  an  hietorian  of  much  the  eame  etamp 
ae  Varillaa.  He  wrote  with  great  facility,  and  hunger 
generally  quickened  hie  pen.  He  took  every  thing  too 
Eghtlv ;  yet  hie  worke  are  eometimee  looked  into  for  many 
anecaotee  of  EneUah  hietory  not  to  be  found  eleewhero ; 
and  periiapa  ought  not  to  have  been  there  if  truth  had  been 
ooneulted.  Hie  greet  aim  wae  alwaye  to  make  a  book : 
he  ewelle  hie  volumee  with  digreeeiona,  interapereee  many 
ridiculoue  etcMiee,  and  appliee  all  the  reparteee  he  collected 
from  old  noveUwritera,  to  modern  charactera. 

Such  forgeriee  abound ;  the  numeroua  *  Teatamene 
Pditiquee' «  Colbert,  Maxarine,  and  other  great  minietera, 
wero  lorgeriee  ueuallv  from  the  Dutch  preee,  ae  are  many 
pretended  political  *  Memoire.' 

Of  our  old  tranelatione  from  the  Greek  and  Latin  authore, 
manv  were  taken  from  French  vereiooe. 

The  traveie  written  in  Hebrew,  of  Rabbi  Benjamin  of 
Tudela,  of  which  we  have  a  curioue  tranelation,  are,  1  be- 
fieve,  apocryphal.  He  deecribee  a  journey,  whidi  if  ever 
he  took,  it  muet  have  been  with  hie  night>cap  on ;  being  a 
perfect  dream !  It  ia  aaklihai  to  inepirit  and  give  imporw 
tance  to  hie  nation,  he  pretended  he  had  travelled  to  all 
the  eynagoguea  in  the  eaat ;  plaoea  be  mentiona  he  doea 
not  appear  ever  to  have  aeen,  and  the  different  people  he 

deecribee  no  one  hae  known.  He  caleulatea  that  he  haa 
found  near  eight  hundred  thoueand  Jewa,  of  which  about 
half  are  independent,  and  not  eubjecte  to  any  Chrietian  or 
Gentile  eovereign.  Theee  fictitioue  traveie  have  been  a 
eource  of  much  trouble  to  the  learned ;  particularly  tothoae 
whoee  zeal  to  authenticate  them  induced  them  to  follow 
the  aerial  footetepe  of  the  Hyppogriffe  of  Rabbi  Benjamin.* 
He  affirme  that  the  tomb  of  Ezekiel,  with  the  library  of 
the  firet  and  aecond  teroplee,  were  to  be  aeen  in  hie  time 
at  a  place  on  the  banke  of  the  river  Euphratee ;  Weeeoliua 
of  Gmnineen,  and  many  other  literati,  travelled  on  pucw 
poee  to  Meeopotamia,  to  reach  tho  tomb  and  examine  the 
librarv,  but  the  fairy  treaeurea  were  never  to  be  eeen,  nor 
even  heard  of! 

The  firet  on  the  liet  of  impudent  impoeturee  ie  Anniua  of 
Viterbo,  a  Dominican,  and  maeter  of  uie  eacred  palaco  un- 
der Alexander  YI.  He  pretended  he  had  diecovered  the 
genuine  worke  of  Sanchoniatho,  Maoetho,  Beroeue,  and 
other  worke,  of  which  only  fragmente  are  remaining.  He 
publiehed  eeventeen  booke  of  antiquitiee !  but  not  having 
any  mbb  to  produce,  though  he  declared  he  had  found  them 
buried  in  the  earth,  theee  literary  fabricatione  occaeionod 
great  controveraiee ;  for  the  author  died  before  he  had  made 
up  hie  mind  to  a  confeeeion.  At  their  fi^st  publication  un»« 
vereal  joy  wae  diffused  among  the  learned.  Suepicion 
eoon  roee,  and  detection  followed.  However,  ae  the  forger 
never  would  acknowledge  himself  ae  euch,  it  hae  been  m* 

S^niously  conjectured  that  he  himeelf  wae  impoeed  on,  ra> 
er  than  that  he  was  the  impostor ;  or,  as  in  the  caee  of 
Chatterton,  poaaibly  all  may  not  be  fictitious.  It  has  been 
said  that  a  great  volume  in  mbs  anterior  by  two  hundred 
yeara  to  the  seventeen  folioe  of  Aoniue,  exists  in  the  Btbli> 
otheque  Colbertine,  in  which  these  pretended  histories  were 
to  be  read ;  but  as  Annius  would  never  point  out  the  sources 
of  hie  eeventeen  folioe,  the  whole  is  coneidered  ae  a  veiy 
wonderful  impoeture.  I  refer  the  reader  to  Tyrwhittt'e  Vin> 
dication  of  hie  Appendix  to  Rowley's  or  Chatterton'a 
Poems,  p.  140,  for  some  curious  obeervatione,  and  eome 
facts  of  literary  imposture. 

One  of  the  moat  extraordinary  fiterary  impoeturee  waa 
that  of  one  Joseph  Vella,  who,  in  1794,  was  an  adventurer 
in  Sicily,  and  pretended  that  he  poeeeesed  seventeen  of  the 
lost  books  uf  Livy  in  Arabic :  he  had  received  thie  literary 
treasure,  he  said',  from  a  Frenchman  who  had  purloined  it 
from  a  shelf  in  St  Sophia's  church  at  Constantinople.  Aa 
many  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  claaeice  have  been  trana- 
lated  by  the  Arabiane,  and  many  were  firet  known  in  £u» 
rope  in  their  Arabic  dress,  there  waa  nothing  improbable  in 
one  part  of  hia  etonr.  He  was  urged  to  puUieh  theee  long- 
desired  booke ;  ana  Lady  Spencer,  then  in  Italy,  offered  to 
defray  the  expenaee.  He  nad  the  effrontery,  by  way  of 
specimen,  toeditanltahan  tranelation  of  the  eixtieth  book, 
but  that  book  took  op  no  more  than  one  octavo  page !    A 

Erofeeeor  of  Oriental  literature  in  Pruesia  introduced  it  in 
is  work,  never  suspecting  the  fraud ;  it  proved  to  be  no- 
thing more  than  the  epitome  of  Florae.  He  aleo  gave  out 
that  he  possessed  a  code  which  he  had  picked  up  in  tho 
abbey  of  St  Martin,  containing  the  ancient  history  of  Sici- 
ly, in  the  Arabic  period  comprehending  above  two  hundred 
years ;  and  of  which  aeee,  their  own  hietoriane  were  en- 
tireljr  deficient  in  knowledge.  Vella  declared  he  had  a 
genuine  official  correspondence  between  theArabian  gover- 
nors of  Sicily  and  their  euperiors  in  Africa,  from  the  first 
landing  of  tne  Arabiane  in  that  ieland.  Vella  waa  now 
loaded  with  honoure  and  pensions !  It  is  true  he  showed 
Arabic  mbs,  which,  however,  did  not  contain  a  syllable  of 
what  he  eaid.  He  pretended  he  wae  in  continual  corree- 
pondence  with  friende  at  Morocco  and  oleewhere.  The 
King  of  Naplee  furoiehed  him  with  money  to  aesiet  hie  re- 
eearchee.  Four  volumee  in  quarto  were  at  length  pub- 
liehed !  Vella  had  the  adroitneee  to  change  the  Arabic 
Mss  he  poeeessed,  which  entirely  related  to  Mahomet,  to 
mattere  relative  to  Sicily ;  he  beetowed  eeveral  weeke  la- 
bour to  diefigure  the  whole,  altering  page  for  page,  line  for 
line,  and  word  for  word,  but  interepersed  numberleee  dote, 
etrokee,  and  flouriehes,  so  that  when  he  published  a  fao* 
eimile,  everv  one  admired  the  learning  of  v  ella,  who  couM 
tranelate  what  no  one  elee  could  read.  He  complained  ho 
had  kMt  an  eye  in  thie  minute  labour;  and  evenr  one 
thought  hn  peneion  ought  to  have  been  increaeed.  Every 
thing  proapered  about  him.  except  hia  eye,  which  eoma 
thovStht  wae  not  eo  bad  neitner.  It  wae  at  length  dieeo* 
vered  by  hn  bhmden,  9Le,  that  the  whole  wae  a  forgery; 
though  it  had  now  boon  patronixed.  tranelated,  ami  ea» 
traeted  throughout  Europe.    When  thie  kb  waa  examinid 



by  an  OrientaUat,  it  waa  diacovered  to  be  nothing  but  a 
}Mtory  o(  Mahomet  and  htM  family,  Yella  waa  condemned 
to  imprisonment. 

'  The  Spanish  antiquary,  Medina  Conde,  in  order  to  fa- 
TOiur  the  pretensions  of  the  church  in  a  ^at  lawsuit,  forged 
deeds  and^  inscriptions,  which  he  buried  in  the  ground, 
where  he  kiaew  they  would  shortly  be  dug  up.  Upon  their 
being  found,  he  inibUahed  engraTings  of  Uiem  and  gave  ex- 
planations <^  their  unknown  characters,  making  them  out 
to  be  so  many  authentic  proo&  and  evidences  of  the  con- 
tested assumptions  of  the  clergy. 

The  Morocco  ambassador  purchased  of  him  a  copper 
bracelet  of  Fatima,  which  Medina  proved  by  the  AraW 
inscription  and  manv  certificates  to  be  genume,  and  found 
among  the  ruins  of  tne  Alhambra,  with  other  treasures  of 
its  last  king,  who  had  hid  them  there  in  hope  of  better  days. 
This  famous  bracelet  turned  out  afterwards  to  be  the 
work  of  Medina*B  own  hands,  and  made  out  of  an  old  brass 
candlestick ! 

George  Psalmanazer,  to  idiose  labours  we  owe  much  of 
the  great  Universal  History,  exceeded  in  powers  of  decep- 
tion any  of  the  great  impostors  of  learning.  His  island  of 
Formosa  was  an  illusion  eminently  bold,  and  maintained 
with  as  much  felicity  as  erudition ;  and  great  must  have 
been  that  erudition  which  could  form  a  pretended  language 
and  its  grammar,  and'fertile  the  senios  which  could  invent 
the  history  of  an  unknown  people ;  it  is  said  that  the  de- 
ception waa  only  satisfactorily  ascertained  by  his  own  peni- 
tential confession;  he  had  defied  and  baffled  the  most 
learned.  The  literary  impostor  Lauder  had  much  more 
audacity  than  ingenuity,  and  he  died  contemned  by  all  the 
world.  Ireland's  Shakspeare  served  to  show  that  commen- 
tators are  not  blessed,  necessarily,  with  an  interior  and 
unerring  tact.  Genius  and  learning  are  ill  directed  in 
forming  literary  impositions,  but  at  least  tho^  must  bo 
distin^shed  from  tne  fabrications  of  ordinary  impostors. 

A  smgular  forgery  was  practiced  on  Captain  Wilford  by 
a  learned  Hindoo,  who,  to  ingratiate  himself  and  his  studies 
with  the  too  zealous  and  pious  European,  contrived  among 
other  attempts  to  give  the  history  of  Noah  and  his  three 
sons,  in  his  *  Purana,*  imder  the  designation  of  Satyavrata. 
Captain  WtUbrd  having  readihe  passage,  transcribed  it  for 
Sir  William  Jones,  who  translated  it  as  a  curious  extract; 
the  whole  was  an  interpolation  by  the  dextrous  introduction 
of  a  forged  sheet,  discoloured  and  prepared  for  the  purpose 
of  deception,  and  which,  having  served  his  purpose  for  the 
moment,  was  afterwards  withdrawn.  As  dooks  in  Tndia 
are  not  oound,  it  is  not  difficult  to  introduce  loose  leaves. 
To  confirm  his  various  impositions  this  learned  forgerer 
had  the  patience  to  write  two  voluminous  sections,  in  which 
he  connected  all  the  legends  together  in  the  style  of  the 
Puraiuu,  consisting  of  12,000  lines.  When  Captain  Wil- 
ibrd  resolved  to  collate  the  manuscript  with  others,  the 
learned  Hindoo  began  to  disfigure  his  own  manuscript,  the 
captain's,  and  those  of  the  couege,  by  erasing  the  name  of 
the  country  and  substituting  that  of  Egypt.   With  as  much 

Eains,  and  with  a  more  honourable  direction,  our  Hindoo 
•audar  might  have  immortalized  his  inverted  invention. 
We  have  authors  who  sold  their  names  to  be  prefixed  to 
works  they  never  read ;  or,  on  the  contrary,  have  prefixed 
the  names  of  others  to  their  own  writing.  Sir  John  Hill 
owned  to  a  friend  once  when  he  fell  sick,  that  he  had  over- 
fatigued  himself  with  writing  seven  works  at  once !  One  of 
which  was  on  architecture,  and  another  on  cookery !  This 
hero  once  contracted  to  translate  Swammerdam's  work  on 
insects  for  fifty  guineas.  After  the  agreement  with  the 
bookseUer,  he  perfectly  recollected  that  he  did  not  under- 
atand  a  single  word  of  the  Dutch  language !  nor  did  there 
exist  a  French  translation.  The  work  however  was  not 
the  less  done  for  this  small  obstacle.  Sir  John  bargained 
vrith  another  translator  for  twenty-five  guineas.  The 
second  translator  was  precisely  in  the  same  situation  as 
the  first ;  as  ignorant,  though  not  so  well  paid  as  the  knight. 
He  rebargained  with  a  third,  who  perfectly  underatood  his 
original,  for  twelve  guineas !  So  that  the  translators  who 
could  not  transiato  feasted  on  venison  and  turtle,  while  the 
modest  dnjd|;e,  whose  name  never  appeared  to  the  world, 
broke  in  patience  his  dail7  bread !  The  craft  of  authorship 
has  many  mysteries.  The  ^eat  patriarch  and  primeval 
dealer  in  English  literature,  is  said  to  have  been  Robert 
Green,  one  of  the  most  facetious,  profligate,  and  iode- 
fiktigable  of  the  scribleri  family.  He  laid  the  foundation  of 
a  new  dynasty  of  literary  emperors.  The  first  act  by  whidi 
be  proved  hia  claim  to  the  throne  of  Grub-street  haa  served 

as  a  model  to  lus  numerous  successors— it  was  an  ambi- 
dextrous trick !  Green  sold  his  '  Orlando  Furioso*  1o  two 
different  theatres,  and  ia  supposed  to  have  been  tfaa  first 
author  in  Enalish  literanr  history  who  wrote  as  a  tradtr ; 
or  as  crabbed  Anthony  Wood  phrases  it  in  the  language  ci 
celibacy  and  cynicism,  *  he  wrote  to  maintain  hiMtpify  and 
that  hifh  and  loose  course  of  living  which  iKMte  ^encrof^ 
follow/  With  a  drop  still  sweeter,  old  Antbonvdeacnbea 
Gay  ton,  another  worthy ;  *  he  came  up  to  Lonoon  to  liv* 
in  a  thhrhing  eonditumf  and  wroto  trite  tkinn  merely  to  get 
bread  to  sustain  hiro,  and  his  wtfe*  The  Hermit  Antboirf 
seems  to  have  had  a  mortal  antipathy  against  the  Eyea  cf 
literary  men. 

cAXDorii.  aicBjeuKU. 

The  present  anecdote  concerning  Cardinal  RicbeGaa 
may  serve  to  teach  the  man  of  letters  how  he  deals  out 
criticism  to  the  greats  when  they  ask  his  opinion  of  nana* 
scripts,  be  they  in  verse  or  prose.  • 

The  cardinal  placed  in  a  gallery  of  his  palace  the  por- 
traits of  several  illustrious  men,  and  he  waa  deairous  of 
composmg  the  inscriptions  to  be  placed  round  the  nortruta. 
That  he  intended  for  Montluc,  the  marecfaal  of^  Prance, 
was  conceived  in  these  terms :  MtdtafeeUf  phtra  «er(psiC, 
otr  tamin  magrtuefuit.  He  showed  it  without  mentionmg 
the  author  to  Bourbon,  the  royal  professor  in  Greek,  and 
asked  his  opinion  concerning  it ;  He  reprobated  it,  and 
considered  that  the  Latin  was  much  in  the  stvle  of  the 
breviary ;  and,  if  it  hod  concluded  with  an  aflUvydi,  it 
would  serve  for  an  an^tem  to  the  magni/Seant»  The  cardi- 
nal agreed  with  the  severity  of  his  strictures ;  and  even 
acknowledged  the  discernment  of  the  professor ;  *  for/  \m 
said,  *  it  is  realhr  written  by  a  priest.'  But  however  ha 
might  approve  of*^  Bourbon's  critical  powers,  he  punisbsd 
witnout  mercy  his  ingenuity.  The  pennon  his  majesty 
had  beatowed  on  him  was  withheld  the  next  year. 

The  cardinal  was  one  of  those  ambitious  men  who  Iboi- 
ishly  attempt  to  rival  every  kind  of  genius ;  and  seeing 
himself  constantly  disappointed,  he  envied,  wUh  all  (bm 
venom  of  rancour^  those  talents  which  are  so  frequently 
the  aU  that  men  of  genius  possess. 

He  was  jealous  of  Balzac's  splendid  reputation ;  and 
oflored  the  elder  Heinsius  ten  thousand  crowns  to  write  a 
criticism  which  should  ridicule  his  elaborate  composttiona. 
This  Heinsius  refused,  because  Salmasius  threatened  to 
revenge  Balzac  on  his  Herodee  infantidda. 

He  attempted  to  rival  the  reputation  of  Comeilte's '  CM/ 
by  opposing  to  it  one  of  the  most  ridiculous  dramatic  pr»> 
ductions ;  it  was  the  allegorical  tragedy  called  *  Europe,' 
in  which  the  minieter  had  congregated  toe  four  quarters  of 
the  work) !  Much  political  matter  was  thrown  together, 
divided  into  acenes  and  acta.  There  are  appended  to  it  key* 
of  the  Dramatis  personie  and  of  tbe  allegories,  tn  this  tra> 
gedy,  Francia  represents  France ;  Ibere,  Spain ;  Parthe* 
nope,  Naples,  &c,and  these  have  their  atteoda^ta  ^— LiUaa 
(alluding  to  the  French  lilies)  is  the  servant  of  Franaon, 
while  Hispale  b  the  confident  of  [here.  But  the  key  to  the 
allegories  is  much  more  copious :— Albiooe  sigiufieiii  Eng- 
land;  thru  kfuOe  of  the  hear  of  Atatraeiet  mean  the  towM 
of  Clermont,  Stenay,  and  Jamot,  these  plaeea  onco  beksif- 
ing  to  Loraine.  A  boxofdiamatde  of  Austrano,  is  the  town 
of  Nancy,  belonging  once  to  the  dukes  of  Loraine.  The  ifccw 
of  Iberia's  great  porch  is  Perpignan,  whidt  Franc*  uA 
from  Spain ;  and  in  this  manner  is  this  sublime  tragedy 
composed !  When  he  first  sent  it  anonymoualy  to  the 
French  Academy  it  was  reprobated.  He  then  tore  it  m  a 
rage,  and  scattered  it  about  his  study.  Towards  evenings 
like  another  Medea  lamenting  over  the  members  oflier  mm 
children,  he  and  his  secretaiy  passed  the  night  in  umtinf 
the  scattered  hmbs.  He  then  ventured  to  avow  bimmfl; 
and  having  pretended  to  correct  thia  iacorri^e  tragedy, 
the  submissive  Academy  retracted  their  censures,  but  tbn 
public  pronoonced  its  melancholy  fate  on  its  first  rc>prese»> 
tetion.  This  lamentable  tragedy  was  intended  to  diwan 
Corneille's  *  Cid.'  Enraged  at  its  soceeaa,  Richelieu  evaa 
commanded  the  academy  to  publish  a  severe  cHtf^v  ^  it 
well  known  in  French  Uteratore.  Boileaa  on  this  occialoa 
has  these  two  weU-tumed  verses  :^ 

*  En  vstn  centre  le  Cid.  un  ministre  as  Ugne ; 
Tout  Paris,  pour  Chimene,  a  les  yeux  ds  Rodrlgua.* 

To  oppose  the  Cid,  In  vain  the  statesman  criat 
All  Paris,  for  Chlmsns,  hss  Roderick's  eyesi 

It  is  said  that  in  consequence  of  the  fiUl  of  this  trig ^y 



the  French  custom  ia  derived  of  securing  a  number  of 
friends  to  applaud  their  pieces  at  their  first  representations. 
I  find  the  following  droll  anecdote  concerning  this  droll  tra* 
gedy  m  Beauchamp*s  Reeherchea  tur  U  Th&tre. 

The  minister  after  the  ill  success  of  his  tragedy  retired 
unaccompanied  the  same  evening  to  his  country  nouse  at 
&uel.  He  then  sent  for  his  favourite  DesmaroU,  who  was 
at  supper  with  his  friend  Petit.  Desmarets,  conjecturing 
thai  tne  interview  would  bo  stonnyi  begged  his  friend  to 
accompany  him. 

<  Well  V  said  the  cardinal  as  soon  as  he  saw  them,  *  the 
French  will  never  possess  a  taste  for  *.vhat  is  lofty :  they 
seem  not  to  have  relished  my  tragedy.'—*  M^  lord  answer- 
ed Petit,  *  it  is  not  the  fault  of  the  piece,  which  is  so  admi* 
rable,  but  that  of  the  player$.  Did  not  yotir  eminence  per^ 
ceive  that  not  only  they  knew  not  their  parts,  but  (hat  they 
were  all  cbvnJk?'— ^  Really,*  replied  the  cardinal,  something 
pleased,  *  I  observed  they  acted  it  dreadfully  ill.' 

Desmarets  and  Petit  returned  to  Paris,  flew  directly  to 
the  players  to  plan  a  ntm  mode  of  performance,  which  was 
to  Beeurg  a  number  of  spectators ;  so  that  at  the  second  re> 
presentation  bursts  of  applause  were  frequently  heard! 

Richelieu  had  another  singular  vanity  of  closely  imitating 
Cardinal  Ximenes.  Pliny  was  not  a  more  servile  imitator 
of  Cicero.  Marville  tells  us  that,  like  Ximenes,  he  placed 
himself  at  the  bead  of  an  army :  like  him  be  degraded 

erincea  and  nobles ;  and  like  him  rendered  himself  formida^ 
le  to  all  Europe.  And  because  Ximenes  had  established 
schools  of  theology,  Richelieu  undertook  likewise  to  raise 
into  notice  the  schools  of  the  Sorbonne.  And,  to  conclude, 
as  Ximenes  had  written  several  theological  treatises,  our 
cardinal  was  also  desirous  of  leaving  pc»terity  various  po- 
lemical works.  But  his  gallantries  rendered  him  more  ri- 
diculous. Always  in  ill  health,  this  miserable  lover  and 
grave  cardinal  would,  in  a  freak  of  love,  dress  himself  with 
a  red  feather  in  his  cap  and  sword  by  his  side.  He  was 
more  hurt  by  a  filthy  nickname  given  him  by  the  queen  of 
Louis  XIII  than  even  by  the  hiss  of  theatres  and  the  crili'- 
cal  condemnation  of  academies. 

Cardinal  Richelieu  was  assuredly  a  great  political  genius. 
Sir  William  Temple  observes,  that  he  mstituted  the  French 
Academy  to  give  employment  to  the  tmto,  and  to  binder 
them  from  inspecting  too  narrowly  into  his  politics  and  his 
admini^ntion.  It  is  believed  that  the  Marshal  de  Gram- 
mont  iJR  an  important  battle  by  the  orders  of  the  cardinal ; 
that  in  this  critical  conjuncture  of  affairs  his  majesty,  who 
was  inclined  to  dismiss  him,  could  not  then  absolutely,  do 
without  him. 

Vanity  in  this  cardinal  leyelled  a  great  genius.  He  who 
would  attempt  to  display  universal  excellence  will  be  im- 

Klled  to  practise  meannesses,  and  to  act  follies  which,  if 
has  the  least  senajMlity,  must  occasion  him  many  a 
nanc  and  many  a  blusff; 



No  philosopher  has  been  ao  much  praiaed  and  censured 
as  Aristotle :  but  be  had  this  advantage,  of  which  some  of 
the  most  eminent  scholars  have  been  deprived,  that  he  en- 
joyed during  his  life  a  splendid  reputation.  Philip  of  Ma^ 
cedon  must  liave  felt  a  string  conviction  of  his  merit  when 
ha  wrote  to  him  on  the  birtn  of  Alexander :— *  I  receive 
from  the  gods  tUs  day  a  son ;  but  I  thank  them  not  so  much 
for  the  favour  o|bis  birth,  as  his  having  come  into  the  world 
at  a  time  when  you  can  haye  the  care  of  his  education; 
and  that  througn  you  he  will  be  rendered  worthy  of  being 
my  son.' 

Diogenes  Laertius  describes  the  person  of  the  stagyrite. 
His  eyes  were  small,  his  voice  hoarse,  and  his  legs  lank. 
He  stammered,  was  fond  of  a  magnificent  dress,  and  wore 
eoetly  rings.  He  had  a  mistress  whom  he  loved  passion- 
ately, and  for  whom  he  frequently  acted  inconsistently  with 
the  philosophic  character ;  a  thing  as  common  with  phito- 
wcffhvn  as  with  other  men.  Aristotle  had  nothing  of  the 
austerity  of  the  philosopher,  though  his  works  are  so  aus- 
tere: he  was  open,  pleasant,  and  even  charming  in  his 
conyersation ;  fiery  and  volatile  in  his  pleasures ;  magnifi- 
cent in  his  dress.  He  is  described  as  fierce,  disdainful,  and 
sarcastic.  He  joined  to  a  taste  for  profound  erudition  that 
of  an  elegant  dissipation.  His  passion  for  luxury  occasion- 
ed him  such  expenses  when  he  was  young  that  he  consumed 
at)  his  property.  Laertius  has  preserved  the  will  of  Aris- 
totle, wnicn  is  curious.  The  chief  part  turns  on  the  future 
welfare  and  marriage  of  his  daughter.  *  If,  after  my  death 
■he  chooses  to  marry,  the  executors  will  be  careful  she 

marries  no  person  of  an  inferior  rank.    If  she  resides  at 
Chalcis,  she  shall  occupy  the  apartment  contiguous  to  the 

garden ;  if  she  chooses  Stagira,  she  shall  reside  in  tb» 
ouse  of  my  father,  and  my  executors  shall  furnish  either 
of  those  places  she  fixes  on.' 

Aristotle  had  studied  under  the  divine  Plato ;  but  tha 
disciple  and  the  master  could  not  possibly  agree  in  their 
doctrines  :  they  were  of  opposite  tastes  and  talents.  Plato 
was  the  chief  of  the  academic  sect,  and  Aristotle  of  the 
peripatetic.  Plato  was  simple,  modest,  frugal,  and  ci 
austere  manners  ;  a  good  friend  and  a  zealous  citizen,  but 
a  theoretical  politician :  a  lover  indeed  of  benevolence^ 
and  desirous  of  diffusing  it  amongst  men,  but  knowinjg 
little  of  them  as  we  find  them ;  his**  republic'  is  as  chi- 
merical as  Rousseau's  ideas,  or  SirThomas  More's  Utopia. 
Rapin,  the  critic,  has  sketched  an  ingenious  parallel  of 
these  two  celebrated  philosophers. 

The  genius  of  Plato  is  more  polished,  and  that  of  Aris- 
totle more  vast  and  profound.  Plato  has  a  hveiy  and 
teeming  imagination ;  fertile  in  invention,  in  ideas,  m  ex- 
pressions, and  in  figures  ;  displaying  a  thousand  different 
turns,  a  thousand  new  colours,  all  agreeable  to  their  sub- 
ject; but  after  all  it  is  nothing  more  than  imagination. 
Aristotle  is  hard  and  dry  in  all  he  says,  but  what  he  aaya 
is  all  reason,  though  it  is  expressed  dryly  :  his  diction,  pore 
as  it  is,  has  something  uncommonly  austere ;  and  his  ob- 
scurities, natural  or  affected,  disgust  and  fatigue  his  re»> 
ders.  Plato  is  equally  delicate  in  his  thoughts  and  in  his 
expressions.  Anstotfe,  thouch  he  may  be  more  natural^ 
has  not  any  delicacy  :  his  style  is  simple  and  equal,  but 
close  and  nervous ;  that  of  Plato  is  grand  and  elevated,  but 
loose  and  diffuse.  Plato  alwaya  says  more  than  he  should 
say :  Aristotle  never  says  enough,  and  leaves  the  reader 
alwaya  to  think  more  than  he  says.  The  one  surprises 
the  mind,  and  charms  it  by  a  flowery  and  sparkling  charac- 
ter :  the  other  illuminates  and  instructs  it  by  a  just  and 
solid  method.  ^  Plato  communicates  something  of  genius 
by  the  fecundity  of  his  own ;  and  Aristotle  something  of 
judgment  and  reason  by  that  impression  of  good  sense  which 
appears  in  all  he  saya.  In  a  word,  Plato  frequently  only 
thinks  to  express  himself  well ;  and  Aristotle  only  thinks 
to  think  justly. 

An  interesting  anecdote  is  related  of  these  philosophers. 
Aristotle  became  the  rival  of  Plato.  Literary  disputea 
long  subsisted  betwixt  them.  The  disciple  ridiculed  his 
master,  and  the  master  treated  contemptuously  his  disci- 
ple. To  make  this  superiority  manifest,  Aristotle  wished 
for  a  regular  disputation  before  an  audience  where  erudi- 
tion and  reason  might  prevail ;  but  this  satisfaction  was 

Plato  was  always  surrounded  by  bis  scholars,  who  took 
a  lively  interest  in  his  glory.  Three  of  these  he  taugbt  to 
rival  Aristotle,  and  it  became  their  mutual  interest  to  de- 

Ereciate  bis  merits.  Unfortunately,  one  day  Plato  found 
imself  in  his  school  without  these  three  favourite  scholars. 
Aristotle  flies  to  him — a  crowd  gathers  and  enters  with 
him.  The  idol  whose  oracles  they  wished  to  overturn  was 
presented  to  them.  He  was  then  a  respectable  old  man, 
the  weight  of  whose  years  had  enfeebled  nis  memory.  The 
combat  was  not  long.  Some  rapid  sophisms  embarrassed 
Plato.  He  saw  himself  surrounded  by  the  ineriuble  tra|w 
of  the  subtlest  logician.  Vanquishea,  he  reproached  his 
ancient  scholar  by  a  beautiful  figure :— *  He  has  Udced 
against  us  as  a  colt  against  his  mother.' 
Soon  after  this  humiliating  adventure  he  ceased  to  giyo 

eublic  lectures.  Aristotle  remained  master  in  the  field  of 
attle.  He  raised  a  school,  and  devoted  himself  to  render 
it  the  most  famoua  in  Qreece.  But  the  three  favourite 
scholars  of  Plato,  zealous  to  avenge  the  cause  of  their  mas- 
ter, and  to  make  amends  for  their  imprudence  in  having 
quitted  him,  armed  themselves  against  the  usurper.  Xe- 
nocrates,  the  most  ardent  of  the  three,  attacked  Ariatotle, 
confounded  the  logician,  and  re-established  Plato  in  all  his 
rights.  Since  that  time  the  academic  and  peripatetic 
sects,  animated  by  the  spirits  of  their  several  chiefs,  avow- 
ed an  eternal  hostility.  In  what  manner  his  works  have  de- 
scended to  us  has  been  told  at  page  15  of  this  volume. 
Aristotle  having  declaimed  irreverently  of  the  gods,  and 
dreading  the  fate  of  Socrates,  wished  to  retire  from  Athens. 
In  a  beautiful  manner  he  pointed  out  his  successor.  There 
were  two  rivals  in  his  scnools  :  Menedemus  the  Rhodiaa, 
and  Tbeophrastus  the  Lesbian.  Alluding  delicately  to  his 
own  critical  situation,  be  told  his  assembled  scholars  that 
the  wine  he  was  accustomed  to  drink  was  injurious  to  him, 



•w)  h«  detired  them  to  bring  the  wiaes  of  Rhodes  and 
Lesbot.  Ha  then  tasted  both,  and  declared  thev  both  did 
lM»oar  to  their  aoil,  each  being  excellent,  thoogn  different 
in  quality.  The  Khodian  wine  ia  the  atrongest,  but  the 
Lesbian  is  the  sweetest,  and  that  he  lumself  preferred  it. 
Thus  his  ingenuity  pointed  out  his  favourite  Theophras- 
tos,  the  buUmt  of  the  *  Charactersi'  for  his  suoeessor. 


Abelard,  so  famous  for  his  writings  and  his  amoars  with 
Bloisa^  ranks  among  the  heretics  for  opinions  concerning 
the  Tnnity !  His  superior  genius  probably  made  him  ap- 
pear so  culpable  in  the  eves  of  hu  enemies.  The  cabal 
formed  aginst  him  disturbed  the  earlier  part  of  his  life 
with  a  thousand  persecutions,  till  at  length  they  persuaded 
Bernard,  his  old  friend,  but  who  had  now  turned  «aa<,  that 
poor  Abelard  was  what  their  malice  described  him  to  be. 
bemard,  inflamed  against  him,  condemned  unheard  the  on- 
fortunate  scholar.  But  it  is  remarkable  that  the  book  which 
was  burnt  as  unorthodox,  and  as  the  compositioo  of  Abe- 
lard, was  in  fact  written  by  Peter  Lombard,  bishop  of  Pa- 
ris ;  a  work  which  has  since  been  eonomsed  in  the  Sorbonne, 
and  on  which  the  scholastic  theology  b  founded.    The 

mid  Son  constitute  but  one  aaenee.  The  major  represents 
the  FaUuTj  the  minor  the  Son^  and  the  oonc/u«ton  the  Hoiy 
Ohott  P  It  is  curious  to  add  that  Bemard  himself  has  ex- 
plained this  mystical  union  precisely  in  the  same  manner, 
and  equally  clear.  '  The  understanding,'  says  this  saint, 
'  Is  the  image  of  God.  We  find  it  consists  of  three  parts  : 
memory,  intelligence  and  will.  To  memory ^  we  attribute  all 
which  we  know,  without  cogitation ;  to  trUdUgeneef  all  truths 
we  discover  which  have  not  been  deposited  by  memory. 
By  memory,  iS^h  resemble  the  Father ;  by  inUUigenee  the 
Son,  and  by  wiU  the  Holy  Ghott*  Bernard's  Lib.  de 
Aoima.  Gap.  I,  Num.  6,  quoted  in  the  *  Mem.  Secretes 
de  la  Repobliqae  des  Lettres.'  We  may  add  also,  that 
because  Abelard,  in  the  warmth  of  honest  indignation,  had 
reproved  the  monks  of  St  Denis,  in  France,  and  St.  Gildas 
De  Ruys,  in  Bretajgne,  for  the  horrid  incontinence  of  their 
lives,  they  joined  his  enemies,  and  assisted  to  embitter  the 
life  of  this  ingenious  scholar ;  who  perhaps  was  guilty  of  no 
other  crime  uian  that  of  feeling  too  sensibly  an  attachment 
to  one  who  not  only  possessed  the  enchanting  attractions 
of  the  softer  sex,  but  what  indeed  is  very  unusual,  a  con- 
geniality of  disposition,  and  an  enthusiasm  of  imagina- 

*  Is  It,  In  heaven,  a  crime  to  love  too  well  ?* 

It  appears  by  a  letter  of  Peter  de  Cluny  to  Eloisa,  that 
she  hsd  solicited  for  Abelard's  absolution.  The  abbot  gave 
It  to  her.  It  runs  thus :  *  Ego  Peirus  Cluniacensis  Al»>as, 
qui  Petnim  Abelardum  in  monachuro  Cluniacensura  re- 
ecpi}  et  corpus  ejus  furtim  delatom  Heloisss  abattisss  et 
moniali  Paracleu  ooncessi,  auctoritate  omnlpotentis  Dei  et 
omnium  sanctorum  absolve  eum  pro  officio  oo  omnibus  pec- 
eatis  sois. 

An  ancient  chronicle  of  Tours  records  that  when  they 
deposited  the  body  of  the  Abbess  Eloisa  in  the  tomb  of  her 
lover  Peter  Abriard,  who  had  been  there  interred  twenty 
years,  this  faithful  husband  raised  bis  arms,  stretched  them, 
and  closely  embraced  his  beloved  Eloisa.  This  poetic  fic- 
tion was  mvented  to  sanctify,  by  a  miracle,  the  frailties  of 
their  youthful  days.  This  is  not  wonderful :— but  it  is 
strange  that  Du  Chesne,  the  father  of  French  history,  not 
only  relates  this  legendary  tale  of  the  ancient  chromclers, 
but  gives  it  as  an  incident  well  authenticated,  and  main- 
tmms  its  nossibility  by  various  other  exsmples.  Such  fan- 
dfiil  incidents  once  not  only  embelluhed  poetry,  but  enliv- 
ened history. 

Bayle  tells  us  that  MleU  doux  and  amormu  verses  are 
two  jxmerful  machines  to  employ  in  the  astaults  of  lore ; 
particularly  when  the  passionate  sonj^s  the  poetical  lover 
composes  are  sung  by  himself.  This  secret  was  well 
known  to  the  elegant  Abelard.  Abelard  so  touched  the 
sensible  heart  or  Eloisa,  and  infused  such  fire  into  her 
frame,  by  employing  bisque  sen  and  hi»  Jtne  voice,  that  the 
poor  woman  never  recovered  from  the  attack.  She  her- 
self informs  us  that  be  displayed  two  qualities  which  are 
rarely  found  in  philosophers,  and  hy  which  he  could  in«tant- 
hr  wm  the  affections  or  the  female  ; — ^he  wrote  and  ning 
miely.  He  compot>*^<|  lovf-verere  no  besiiliful,  and  aonga  so 
agreeably,  as  well  fir  the  u>orda  as  the  airs,  that  all  the 

world  got  them  by  heart,  and  the  name  of  biiv 
spread  from  province  to  provinoe. 

What  a  gratification  to  the  enthosiaatie,  the  tnorooi, 
the  vain  Elmsa !  of  whom  Lord  Lyitleton  in  his  coriouB 
life  of  Heniy  II,  observes,  that  had  she  not  been  compefled 
to  read  the  fathers  and  the  legends  in  a  nunnery,  bat  bad 
been  stiffered  to  improve  her  genios  by  a  cootbtia]  tnplieaf* 
tion  to  polite  literature,  from  what  appears  in  herletters« 
she  would  have  excelled  any  man  of  that  age. 

Eloisa,  I  suspect,  however,  would  have  proved  but  a 
very  indifferent  polemic.  She  seems  to  have  bad  a  ceiw 
tain  delicacv  in  ner  manners  which  rather  belcogs  to  lb* 
Jhe  lady.  We  cannot  but  smile  at  an  observation  of  bera 
on  the  aposdes  which  we  find  in  her  letters.  *  Vf  e  rend 
that  the  ayottlee,  even  m  the  company  of  their  maater, 
were  so  nutie  and  iff  hrti  that,  regardless  of  common  de* 
oorum,  as  they  passed  throocfa  the  com  fields  thev  plucked 
the  ears  and  ate  them  like  oiiidren.  Nor  did  Iney  vnuh 
their  hands  before  they  sat  down  to  table.  To  eat  with 
unwashed  hands,  said  our  Savioor  to  those  who  wars  tt^ 
fended,  doth  not  defile  a  man.' 

It  is  on  the  misconception  of  the  mild  apologetical  reply 
of  Jesus,  indeed,  that  religious  fanatics  have  really  eon- 
siderod  that  to  be  careleaa  of  their  dress,  and  not  to  fre« 
themselves  from  filth  and  slovenliness,  is  an  act  of  piety, 
just  as  the  late  political  fanatics,  who  tnooght  thatrepuMi* 
canism  consisted  in  the  most  offensive  filthui  "    "  * 

On  this 

principle,  that  it  is  saintlike  to  go  dirty,  ragged,  and  stoven* 
ly,  says  Bishop  Lavington,  'enthusiasm  <7ihe  Methodists 
and  Papists,'  now  piously  did  Whitfield  take  ears  of  tbn 
outward  man,  who  in  his  journal  writes,  '  Mv  apparni 
was  mean— thought  it  unbecoming  a  penitent  to  havepoio* 
tiered  Aoir— I  wore  trwe/en  ^loues,  a  jMCdbed  geisn,  and  dlirfy 

Af^er  an  injury,  not  less  cruel  than  humiUating ,  Abelaid 
raises  the  school  of  the  Paraclete ;  with  what  enthoaiasm  in 
he  followed  to  that  desert !  His  scholars  in  crowdi  hasten 
to  their  adored  master.  They  cover  their  mud  slieds  with 
the  branches  of  trees.  They  do  not  want  to  sleep  under 
better  roofs,  provided  they  remam  by  the  side  of  their 
unfortunate  master.  How  lively  must  have  been  their 
taste  for  study !  It  formed  their  solitary  paasioa,  and  thn 
love  of  glory  was  gratified  even  in  that  desert. 

The  two  reprehensible  lines  in  Pope**  BkMsa»lao  csln- 
brated  among  certain  of  its  readers. 

<  Not  CfiBsar's  empress  woukl  I  deign  to  prove  j 
*  No,— make  me  mistress  to  the  man  I  lova  !* 

are,  however,  finind  in  her  original  letters.  The  aothor  of 
that  ancient  work,  <  The  Romaunt  of  the  Rone/  ba»fir. 
en  it  thus  noivdy:  a  specimen  of  the  nolfeimf  atyle  in  thon 

Re  le*emperenr,  qui  est  a  Rome 
Soubs  qui  doyvenl  etre  tout  homine, 
Me  dsiinoit  prendre  pour  sa  ftmme, 
£t  me  fiUre  an  monde  dame } 
81  vouldroye-jo  mieux,  dkt-elle 
EtDleu  en  tesmolng  en  appslle 
Etre  sa  Puialne  appell^ 
Qu*etre  empertere  cootonn^e* 


A  very  extraordinary  physiognomical  aaeodoiebaa  been 
given  by  De  la  Place  in  hist  *  PUoee  tnlvcMmiCss  si  nsn 
oonnties.*  v.  i,v  p.  8. 

A  Triend  assured  him  that  he  had  seen  a  Totumiaeiis  and 
secret  correspondence  wliich  had  been  carried  on  between 
Louis  XIV,  and  his  favourite  physician  Os  la  Cb^mbsn 
on  this  science :  the  faith  of  the  monarch  aeens  to  have 
been  sreat,  and  the  purpose  to  which  the  corvespoodence 
tended  was  extraordinary  indeed, andperfaapa scarcely  cra* 
dible.  Who  will  believe  thai  Lonis  luV  wasso  cvnvinoad 
of  that  talent  which  De  la  Chambre  attribnted  to  binsslf, 
of  deciding  merely  hy  the  physiognomy  of  persons  not  only 
on  the  realbent  of  their  character,  bnt  to  what  employment 
they  were  adapted,  that  the  king  entered  into  a  atcrH  cm^ 
reepondenee  to  obtain  the  critical  notices  of  hk  jthytjagno 
mitt  7  That  Louis  XIV  shouM  have  panrasd  this  syatem, 
undetected  bv  his  own  courtiers,  is  also  tinffular ;  but  k 
appears  by  this  conreapondence  that  ihb  art  positively 
swayed  him  in  his  choice  of  officers  and  fovowttea.  On 
one  of  the  backs  of  thooe  letters  De  la  Chambre  had  writ* 
ten,  *  ir  I  die  before  bis  majesty,  he  will  incur  grcai  rmk 
of  making  many  an  unfortunate  choice  f 

This  collection  of  pbrsiogoonucal  oorrsepondsnee,  if  n 
does  really  exist,  would  fom  a  carious  publication  \  w« 



have  beArd  DOthing  of  it.  De  la  Chambre  wai  an  entha- 
■iattic  phjsiosDooiist,  as  appears  by  his  works ;  *  The 
Characters  of  me  Passions/  four  volumes  in  quarlo;  *  The 
Art  of  knofvinf;  Mankind;  and  *The  Knowledge  of  Ani- 
mals:' Lavater  quotes  his  *  Vote  and  Interest^  in  favour 
of  his  favourite  Science.  It  is,  however,  curious  to  add. 
that  Philip,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  under  James  I,  had  formed 
a  particular  oollection  of  Portraits,  with  a  view  to  physiog- 
nomical studies.  According  to  Evelyn  on  Medals,  p.  908. 
Mich  was  his  sagacity  in  discovering  the  characters  and 
dispositions  of  men  by  their  countenances,  that  James  I 
maide  no  little  use  of  his  extraordinary  talent  on  the./SrsCar- 
rioal  qfambanadon  at  court. 

The  following  physiological  definition  of  Phtsioohomt 
is  extracted  from  a  publication  by  Dr  Gwither,  of  the  year 
1604,  which,  dropping  his  history  of'  the  Animal  Spirits,' 
is  curious. 

*  Soft  wax  cannot  receive  more  various  and  numerous 
impressions  than  are  imprinted  on  a  man's  face  by  objects 
movini  his  afifections :  and  not  onl^  the  otjeeta  themselves 
have  IDU  power,  but  also  the  very  images  or  ideas ;  that  is 
lo  say,  any  thing  that  puts  the  animal  spirits  into  the  same 
motion  that  the  object  present  did,  will  have  the  same  effect 
with  the  object.  To  prove  tlie  first,  let  one  olwerve  a 
man's  face  looking  on  a  pitiful  object,  then  a  ridiculous, 
then  a  strange,  then  on  a  terrible  or  dangerous  object,  and 
so  forth.  For  the  second,  that  ideas  have  the  same  effect 
with  the  objtU,  dreams  confirm  too  often. 

*  The  manner  I  conceive  to  be  thus :  The  animal  spirits 
moved  in  the  sensory  by  an  object,  continue  their  motion  to 
the  brain ;  whence  the  motion  is  propagated  to  this  or  that 
particular  |>art  of  the  body,  as  is  roost  suitable  to  the  design 
of  its  creation;  havine  brst  made  an  alteration  in  the  face 
by  Its  nerves,  especially  by  the  pathetic  and  oeuiorum  mo- 
lira  actuating  its  many  muscles,  as  the  dial-plate  to  that 
■topendous  piece  of  clock-work  which  shows  what  is  to  be 
expected  next  from  the  striking  part.  Not  that  I  think  the 
motion  of  the  spirits  in  the  sensory  continued  by  the  im- 
pression of  the  object  all  the  way,  as  from  a  finger  to  the 
root :  I  know  it  too  weak,  though  the  tenseness  of  the 
nerves  favours  it.  But  I  conceive  it  done  in  the  medulla 
of  the  brain,  where  is  the  common  stock  of  spirits ;  as  in  an 
organ,  whose  pipes  being  uncovered,  the  air  rushes  into 
them ;  but  the  Ice^s  let  go,  is  stof)ped  again.  Now,  if  by 
repeated  acts  or  frequent  entertaining  of  a  favourite  idea, 
or  a  passion  or  vice,  which  natural  temj^erament  has  hur- 
ried one  to,  or  custom  dragged,  the  face  is  so  often  put  into 
that  posture  which  attends  such  acts,  that  the  animal  spi- 
rits find  such  latent  passages  into  its  nerves,  that  it  is  some- 
times unalterably  set :  as  the  Indian  religious  are  by  long 
continuing  in  strange  posture  in  their  pagods.  But  most 
oommoolv  such  a  habit  is  contracted,  tnat  it  falls  insensi- 
bly into  tnat  posture  when  some  present  object  does  not 
obliterate  that  more  natural  impression  by  a  new,  or  dia- 
■imulation  hide  it. 

*  Hence  it  is  that  we  see  ereat  drinkers  with  eyes  gene- 
rally set  towards  the  nose,  tne  adducent  muscles  being  of- 
ten employed  to  let  them  see  their  loved  liquor  in  the  glass 
at  the  time  of  drinking ;  which  were  therefore  called  At6t- 
lorv.  Ldodmous  persons  are  remarkable  for  the  ocukmm 
meoiHs  petulanUa^  as  Petrtmius  calls  it.  From  this  also  we 
may  solve  the  Quaker's  expecting  face,  waiting  for  the  pre- 
tended spirit;  and  the  melancholy  face  of  theseefories;  the 
siudiaus  face  of  men  of  great  application  of  mind ;  revenge- 
ful and  bloocUf  men,  like  executioners  in  the  act :  and  though 
silence  in  a  sort  may  a  while  pass  for  wisdom,  yet,  sooner 
or  later.  Saint  Martin  peeps  through  the  disguise  to  undo 
all.  A  changeable  face  I  have  observed  to  show  a  cAan^eo- 
hU  mind.  Bui  I  would  by  no  means  have  what  has  been 
■aid  understood  as  without  exception :  for  I  doubt  not  but 
•oroetimes  there  are  found  men  with  great  and  virtuous 
Muls  under  ^ery  unpromising  outsides.' 

The  great  Prince  of  Oonde  was  very  expert  in  a  sort  of 
physiognomy  which  showed  the  peculiar  habits,  motions, 
and  postures  of  familiar  life  and  mechanical  employments. 
He  would  sometimes  lay  wafers  with  his  friends,  that  he 
wotild  guess,  upon  the  Point  Neuf,  what  trade  persons  were 
of  that  passed  by,  from  their  walk  and  air. 


The  idea  of  describing  characters  under  the  names  of 
Musical  Instruments  has  been  already  displayed  in  two 
most  pleasing  papers  which  embellish  the  Tatter^  written 
by  Aodison.  He  dwells  on  this  idea  with  imcommon  suo- 
It  hat  bean  applandad  for  its  ariginaiky ;  and  in  the 

general  preface  to  that  work,  those  pnpers  are  diatingniah- 
ed  for  their  felicity  of  imagination.  The  following  paper 
was  published  in  the  year  1700,  in  a  volume  of  *  Philoso- 
phical Transactions  and  Collections,'  and  the  two  numben 
of  Addison  in  the  year  1710.  It  is  probable  that  this 
inimitable  writer  borrowed  the  seminal  hint  from  this  work. 

'  A  conjecture  at  dispositions  from  tho  modulations  of 
the  voice. 

'  Sitting  in  some  company,  and  haiang  been  but  a  littltf 
before  musical,  I  chanced  to  take  notice,  that  in  ordinary 
discourse  voords  were  spoken  in  perfect  mOes ;  and  that 
some  of  the  company  used  eighthSf  soiae^fthSf  some  tlurds\ 
and  that  his  discourse  which  was  most  pleasing,  his  toords, 
as  to  their  tone,  consisted  most  of  concords^  and  were  of 
discords  of  such  as  made  up  harmony.  The  same  person 
was  the  most  affable,  pleasant,  and  best  natured  in  the 
company.  This  suggests  a  reason  why  many  discourses 
which  one  hears  with  much  pleasure,  when  tney  come  to 
be  read  scarcely  seem  the  same  things. 

*  From  this  difference  of  Music  m  Speech,  we  may 
conjecture  that  of  Tempebs.  We  know,  the  Doric  mood 
sounds  gravity  and  sobriety ;  the  Lydian,  buxomiiess  and 
freedom ;  the  iEolic,  sweet  stillness  and  quiet  composure ; 
the  Phrygian,  jollity  and  youthful  levity ;  the  Ionic  is  a 
stiller  of  storms  and  disturbances  arising  from  passion* 
And  why  may  not  we  reasonably  suppose  that  those  whosa 
speech  naturally  runs  into  the  notes  peculiar  to  any  of  these 
moods,  are  likewise  in  nature  hereunto  congenerous  ?  O 
Fa  ut  may  show  me  to  be  of  an  ordinary  capacity,  though 
good  disposition.  O  Sol  re  ut,  to  be  peevish  and  effemi- 
nate. PlatSf  a  manly  or  melancholic  sadness.  He  who 
haih  a  voice  which  wiU  in  some  measure  agree  with  all 
cliffSf  to  be  of  good  parts,  and  fit  for  variety  <^  employ* 
ments.  yet  somewhat  of  an  inconstant  nature.  Likewisa 
from  tne  Times  ;  so  semibriefs  may  speak  a  temper  doll 
and  phlegmatic ;  mxaums,  grave  and  serious ;  erouhHs,  a 
prompt  wit ;  quavers,  vehemency  of  passion,  and  scolds  usa 
them.  SemCbrief'reU,  may  denote  one  either  stupid  or 
fuller  of  thoughts  than  be  can  utter ;  mmton-resf,  one  that 
deliberates ;  rroteheUrestj  cme  in  a  passion.  So  that  from 
the  natural  use  of  Mood,  Note,  and  Time,  we  may  col- 


It  is  painful  to  observe  the  acrimony  which  the  moat 
eminent  scholars  have  infused  frequently  in  their  controvar* 
sial  writings.  The  politenen  of  the  present  times  has  in 
some  degree  softened  the  malignity  of  the  man,  in  the  dig- 
nity of  the  author,  but  this  is  oy  no  means  an  irrevocabio 

It  is  said  not  to  be  honourable  to  literature  to  revive  such 
controversies ;  and  a  work  entitled '  Querelles  Litterairea,' 
when  it  first  appeared,  excited  loud  murmurs.  But  it  haa 
its  moral ;  like  showing  the  'irunkard  to  a  youth  that  be 
may  turn  askle  disgusted  with  ebriety.  Must  we  suppose 
that  men  of  letters  are  exempt  frwn  the  human  passions  7 
Their  sensibility,  on  the  contrary,  is  more  irritable  than 
that  of  others.  To  observe  the  ridiculous  attitudes  in  which 
great  men  appear,  when  they  emplov  the  atylo  of  the  fiah- 
market,  may  be  one  great  means  or  restraining  that  fen^ 
cious  pride  often  breaking  out  in  the  republic  of  lettais. 
J<Anson  at  least  appears  to  have  entertained  the  same 
opinion ;  fur  he  thought  proper  to  republish  the  low  invec- 
tive oTDryden  against  Swe :  and  since  I  have  published 
my  *  Quarrels  oTAuthors,'  it  becomes  me  to  say  no  more. 

The  celebrated  controversy  of  Sabnasius  continued  hj 
Morus  with  Milton— the  first  the  pleader  of  King  Gharleai 
the  latter  the  advocate  of  the  people — was  of  that  magni- 
tude, that  all  Europe  took  a  part  m  the  papei^war  of  tbeee 
two  great  men.  The  answer  (^  Milton,  who  perfectly 
massacred  Salmaaius,  is  now  read  but  by  Uie  few.  What- 
ever is  addressed  to  the  times,  however  great  may  be  ita 
merit,  is  doomed  to  perish  with  the  times ;  yet  on  theee 
paces  the  nhilosopher  will  not  contemplate  in  vain. 

It  will  (orm  no  uninteresting  article  to  gather  a  few  el 
the  rhetorical  weedSf  for  Jlomrs  we  cannot  well  call  thenit 
with  which  thev  mutually  presented  each  other.  Thdr 
rancour  was  at  least  equal  to  their  erudition,  the  two  Boat 
learned  antagonists  of  a  learned  age ! 

Salmasius  was  a  man  of  vast  erudition,  bat  no  taste. 
His  writings  are  learned ;  but  sometimes  ridicokMis.  He 
called  his  work  Defenmo  Regia,  Defence  of  Kings.  The 
opening  of  this  work  provokes  a  laugh.  *  Englishmen !  who 
teas  the  heads  of  kinp  as  so  many  tennia-baUa ;  who  play 



with  crowns  as  if  thsy  were  bowls ;  who  look  upon  se^p- 
ters  as  so  many  crooks.' 

That  the  deformity  of  the  body  is  an  idea  we  attach  to 
tiie  deformity  of  the  mind,  the  vulgar  must  acknowledge ; 
but  sorely  it  is  unpardonable  in  the  enlightened  phik»o|mer 
thus  to  compare  the  crookedness  of  corporeal  matter  with 
the  rectitude  of  the  intellect :  yet  McllKHiroe  and  Dennis, 
the  last,  a  formidable  critic,  have  frequently  considered,  that 
comparing  Drvden  and  Pope  to  whatever  the  eye  turned 
from  with  displeasure  was  very  good  argument  to  lower 
their  literary  abiliiies.  Salmasius  seems  also  to  have  ei^ 
tertained  this  idea,  though  his  spies  in  England  gave  him 
wrong  information ;  or,  possibly,  he  only  drew  the  figi^e  of 
hiv  own  distempered  imagination. 

Salmasius  sometimes  reproaches  Milton  as  being  but  a 
ponv  piece  of  man;  an  humunculus,  a  dwarf  deprived  of 
the  Kuman  fi^fure,  a  bloodless  being  composed  ot  nothing 
bat  skin  and  bone ;  a  contemptiUe  pedagogue,  fit  on\j  to 
flog  his  boys ;  and  sometimes  elevating  the  ardour  or  his 
mmd  into  a  poetic  frenzy,  he  applies  to  him  the  words  of 
Virgil, '  Monttrum  WrefuJam,  infwme,  ingerUf  eui  lumen 
•demptem.'  Our  great  poet  thought  this  senseless  decla- 
mation merited  a  serious  refutation  ;  perhaps  he  did  not 
wish  to  appear  despicable  in  the  eyes  of  the  ladies  ;  and  he 
wmild  not  be  silent  on  the  subject,  he  says,  lest  any  one 
ahooki  consider  him  as  the  credulous  Spaniaj^s  are  made 
to  believe  bv  their  priests,  that  a  heretic  is  a  kind  of  rhino- 
ceros or  a  dog-headed  monster.  Milton  says,  that  he  does 
not  think  any  one  ever  considered  him  as  unbeaotiful ;  that 
his  size  rather  approaches  mediocrity  than  the  diminutive; 
that  he  still  felt  tne  same  courage  and  the  same  strength 
which  he  possessed  when  young,  when,  with  his  sword,  he 
felt  no  dimculty  to  combat  with  men  more  robust  than  him- 
telf ;  that  his  face,  far  from  being  pale,  emaciated,  and 
wrinkled,  was  sufficiently  creditable  to  him ;  for  though  he 
had  passed  his  fortieth  year,  he  was  in  all  other  respects 
ten  years  younger.  And  very  pathetically  he  adds,  *  that 
even  his  eyes,  biind  as  they  are,  are  unblemished  in  their 
appearance  ;  in  this  instance  alone,  and  much  against  my 
inclination,  I  am  a  deceiver !' 

Moras,  in  his  Epistle  dedicatory  of  his  Regit  Sangtumt 
Clamor f  compares  MiltMi  to  a  hangman ;  his  disordered 
vision  to  the  blindness  of  his  soul,  and  vomits  forth  his 

When  Salmasius  found  that  his  strictures  on  the  person 
of  Milton  were  false,  and  that  on  the  contrary  it  was  un- 
commonly beautiful,  be  then  turned  his  battery  against 
those  graces  with  which  Nature  had  so  liberally  adorned 
his  adversary.  And  it  is  now  that  he  seems  to  have  laid 
no  restriction  on  his  pen  ;  hut  raging  with  the  irritation  of 
Milton's  success,  he  throws  out  the  blackest  calumnies,  and 
the  most  infamous  aspersions. 

It  must  b«  observ(^d,  when  Milton  first  proposed  to  an- 
swer Salmasius  he  had  lost  the  use  of  one  of  his  eyes;  and 
his  physicians  declared,  that  if  he  applied  himself  to  the  cfm- 
troversy,  the  other  would  likewise  close  for  ever !  His  pa- 
triotism was  not  to  be  bafiled  but  with  life  itself.  Unhap* 
C*jy,  the  predictions  of  his  physicians  took  place !  Thus  a 
amed  man  in  the  occupations  of  study  falls  blind ;  a  cir- 
cimistance  even  now  not  read  without  sympathy.  Salma- 
sius considers  it  as  one  from  which  he  may  draw  caustic 
ridicule  and  satiric  severity. 

Salmasius  elories  that  Milton  lost  his  heahh  and  his  eyes 
in  answering  his  apolnzy  for  King  Charles  !  He  does  not 
now  reproach  him  with  natural  deformities ;  but  be  malig- 
nantly sympathizes  with  him,  that  he  now  no  more  is  in 
possession  of  that  beauty  which  rendered  him  so  amiable 
during  hii  residence  in  Italy.  He  speaks  more  plainly  in 
a  following  page ;  and  in  a  word,  would  blacken  the  austere 
virtues  of  Milton  with  a  crime  too  infamous  to  name. 

Impartiality  of  criticism  obliges  us  to  confess  that  Milton 
was  not  destitute  of  rancour.  When  he  was  told  that  his 
adversary  boasted  he  had  occasioned  the  loss  of  his  eyes, 
he  answered,  with  the  ferocity  of  the  irritated  puritan— 
•  And  I  JuM  cost  hun  fda  Ufe'P  A  prediction  which  was 
■oon  aAer  verified  :  for  Christina,  Q,ueen  of  Sweden,  with- 
drew her  patronage  from  Salmasius,  and  sided  with  Milton. 
The  universal  neglect  the  proud  scholar  felt,  hastened  his 
death  in  the  course  of  a  twelvemonth. 

How  tho  greatness  of  Milton's  mind  was  degraded!  He 
•etoally  condescended  to  enter  in  a  correspondence  in  Hol- 
land to  obtain  little  scandalous  anecdotes  of  his  miserable 
•dversary  Moras,  and  deigned  to  adulate  the  unworthy 
Christina  of  Sweden,  because  she  had  expressed  herself 
favourably  on  his  *  Defence.'    Of  late  years  we  have  had 

but  too  many  instances  of  tlua 
pathiea  of  politics ! 

ORianr  or  HEWip^Pxma. 

Wo  are  indebted  to  the  Italians  lor  the  idea  of  „ ._, 

pers.  The  title  of  their  ^ozzsttos  was  perhaps  d^ved  firoai 
gttxzera,  a  magpie  or  chatterer ;  or  more  probably  from  % 
farthing  coin,  p^uliar  to  the  city  of  Venice,  called  i 
which  was  the  common  price  of  the  newspapers.    A 

etymologist  is  lor  deriving  it  from  the  Laim  ^otzo, . 

would  colloquially  lengtben  into  gaxeUn,  and  signify  a  halm 
treasury  of  news.  The  Spanish  derive  it  from  the  LAtoa 
gaxOf  and  likewise  their  gazaUro  and  oor  ^osettssr  for  a. 
writer  of  the  gaxette,  and  what  is  pecubar  to  themaciic% 
gttxetiala,  for  a  lover  of  the  gazette. 

Newspapers  then  took  their  birth  in  that  principal  laad 
of  modern  politicians,  Italy,  and  under  ihe  govenuBcail  of 
that  aristocraiical  republic  Venice.  The  first  paper  was  a 
Venetian  one,  and  only  monthly ;  but  it  was  owrdj  th« 
newspaper  of  the  government.  Other  govenunents  aftow 
wards  adopted  the  Venetian  plan  of  a  newspaper,  with 
the  Venetian  name ;  from  a  solitary  government  gaaetta^ 
an  inundation  d*  newspapers  has  burst  upon  ua. 

Mr  George  Chalmers,  in  his  life  of  Kuddanan,  givas  % 
curious  particular  of  these  Venetian  gazettes.  *  A  jtahiMJ 
government  did  not  allow  a  printed  newspaper :  and  dw 
Venetian  gaxHta  continued  long  after  the  inventioa  «f 
printing  to  ihe  dose  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  eves  ta 
our  own  days,  to  be  distributed  in  wtoKmaaripL*  Lb  tin 
Magliabechian  library  at  Florence  are  thirty  Tnlnmri  «f 
Venetian  gazettas  all  in  manuscript. 

Those  who  first  wrote  newspapers,  were  called  by  tha 
Italians  menanii ;  because,  says  Voasiua,  they  inteadad 
commonly  by  these  loose  papers  to  spread  about  ih  fama 
tory  refiections,  and  were  therefore  prohibited  in  Italy  Ig^ 
Gregory  XIII,  by  a  particular  boU,  onder  the  nama  cf 
menontes,  from  the  L»aiin  mnumies,  threatening.  M< 
however,  derives  it  from  the  Italian  mcmve,  which  i 
to  lead  at  large,  or  spread  afar. 

Mr  Chalmers  discovers  in  En^aad  the  first  newspaper. 
It  may  gratify  national  pride,  says  he,  to  be  uAd  that  man- 
kind are  indebted  to  the  wisdom  of  Elizabeth  and  the  pn>> 
dence  of  Burieigh  for  the  first  newspaper.  The  epoca  «f 
the  Spanish  Armada  is  also  the  epoch  of  a  genuine  new** 
paper.  In  the  British  Museum  are  several  newspapcfS 
which  were  printed  while  the  Spanish  fleet  was  in  tha 
English  Channel  during  the  year  1688.  It  was  a  wbe  po* 
licy  to  prevent,  during  a  moment  of  general  anxiety,  tba 
danger  of  false  reports,  by  publishing  real  infonaation.  Tha 
earliest  newspaper  is  entitled  *  The  EngUsh  Mercorie,* 
which  by  auihoniy  *  was  imprinted  at  London  by  her  higb> 
nesses  printer,  1688.*  These  were,  however,  but  e3ctraF> 
ordinary  gazettes,  not  regulariy  published.  In  ihisobscnra 
origin  they  were  skilfully  directed  by  the  policy  of  that 
great  statesman  Burleigh,  who  to  inflame  the  national  feeU 
ms,  gives  an  extract  of  a  letter  from  Madrid  which  sptaks 
ofputtiog  the  queen  to  death,  and  the  instruments  of  for* 
ture  on  U^ard  the  Spanish  fleet. 

Mr  Chalmers  has  exultingly  taken  down  these  patriaib 
chal  newspapers,  covered  with  the  dust  of  two  centuries. 

The  first  newspaper  in  the  collection  of  the  British  Ma> 
seum  is  marked  No  50,  and  is  in  Roman,  not  in  black  let- 
ter. It  contains  the  usual  articles  of  news  like  the  London 
Gazette  of  the  present  day.  In  that  curioos  paper,  ihcia 
are  news  dated  from  Whitehall,  on  the  SSd  July,  loSfl. 
Under  Ihe  date  of  July  S6  there  is  the  following  notice: 
'  Yesterday  the  Scots  ambassador  being  introduced  to  Sir 
Francis  Walsingham,  had  a  private  audience  of  her  mi^ 
jesty,  to  whom  he  delivered  a  letter  from  the  kins  Ym  •«»»«. 
ter,  containing  the  most  cordial  assurances  of  his  resohi- 
tion  to  adhere  to  her  majesty's  mterests,  and  to  those  of 
the  protestant  religion.  And  it  may  not  here  be  improper 
to  take  notice  of  a  wise  and  spiritual  saying  of  this  young 
prince  (he  was  twenty-two)  to  the  queen's  minister  athia 
court{  viz.  That  all  the  favour  be  did  eipect  from  tha 
Spaniards  was  the  courtesy  of  PolyphesM  to  Uljrsses,  Is 
be  the  last  deve^md,  Mr  Chalmers  defies  the  gazetteer  of 
the  present  day  to  give  a  more  decorous  accoimt  of  the  in- 
troduction of  a  foreign  minister.  The  aptness  of  King 
James'  classical  saying  carried  it  from  the  newspaper  into 
history.  I  must  add,  that  in  respect  to  his  iot<  no  man  has 
been  more  injured  than  this  monarch.  More  pointed  sen- 
tences are  recorded  of  James  I  than  perhaps  of  any  prince, 
and  yet,  such  is  the  delusion  of  that  medium  by  which  tha 
popular  eye  sees  things  in  this  worid,  that  be  is  usadly 



•oondered  as  &  mere  royal  pedant.  I  have  entered  more 
largely  on  this  subject  in  an  *  Inoairy  of  the  hterary  and 
poiiticai  chairacter  of  James  First/ 

From  one  of  these  *  Mercuries*  Mr  Chalmers  has  given 
tome  advertisements  of  books,  which  run  much  like  those 
of  the  present  times,  and  exhibit  a  picture  of  the  literature 
of  those  days.  Aii  these  oublications  were  *  imprinted 
iBd  sold'  by  the  queen's  pnnters,  Field  and  Barker. 

Ist.  An  admonition  to  the  people  of  England,  wherein 
are  answered  the  slanderous  untruths  reproachfully  uttered 
by  MttT'prelaUy  and  others  of  his  brood,  against  the  bish(^ 
and  chief  of  the  clergy.^ 

Sdly.  The  copy  ol  a  letter  sent  to  Don  Bemardin  Men- 
doza,  ambassador  in  France,  for  the  king  of  Spain ;  declar- 
ing the  state  of  England,  &c.    The  second  edition. 

Sdly.  An  exact  journal  of  all  passages  at  the  siege  of 
Bergen-op-Zoom.    By  an  eye-witness. 

4uily.  Father  Parson's  coat  well  dusted  ;  or  short  and 
pithy  animadrersions  on  that  infamous  fardle  of  abuse  and 
falsities,  entitled  JjaceMer*9  CommonvoeaUh.* 

6thly.  Elizabethe  TriumphanMt  an  heroic  poem  by  James 
Askci ;  with  a  declaration  how  her  excellence  was  enter- 
tained at  the  royal  course  at  Tilbury,  and  of  the  overthrow 
of  the  Spanish  fleet. 

Periodical  papers  seem  first  to  have  been  more  general- 
ly used  by  the  English,  during  the  civil  wars  of  the  usurper 
Cromwell,  to  disseminate  amongst  the  people  the  senti- 
ments of  royally  or  rebellion,  according  as  their  authors 
were  disposed.  Peter  ffeylin  in  the  preface  to  his  Cosmo- 
graphy  mentions,  that  *  the  affairs  of  each  town  or  war 
were  better  presented  to  the  reader  in  the  Weekly  Nevot- 
6ooJb.*  Hence  we  find  some  papers  entitled  News  from 
Hull,  Truths  from  York,  Warranted  Tidings  from  Ireland, 
Ikc.  We  find  also  <  The  Scot's  Dove'  opposed  to  •  The 
Parliament  Kite,'  or  *  The  Secret  Owl.* — Keener  animosi- 
ties produced  keener  titles :  *  Heraclitus  ridens'  foimd  an 
antagonist  in  '  Democritus  ridens,'  and  *  The  weekly  Dis- 
coverer' was  shortly  met  by  *  The  discoverer  stript  naked.' 
<  Mercurius  Britannicus^  was  grappled  by  Mercurius 
Mastix,  faithfully  lashing  all  Scouts,  Mercuries,  Posts. 
Spies,  and  others.'  Under  all  these  names  papers  had 
appeared,  but  a  Mercury  was  the  prevailing  title  of  these 

*  rf  ews-Books,'  and  the  principles  of  the  writer  were 
generally  shown  by  the  aaditional  epithet.  We  find  an 
alarming  number  of  those  Mercuries,  which,  were  the 
■tory  not  too  long  to  tell,  might  excite  some  laughter ;  they 
present  us  with  a  very  curious  picture  of  those  singular 

Devoted  to  political  purposes  fhey  soon  became  a  public 
nuisance  by  serving  as  receptacles  of  party  malice,  and 
echoing  to  farthest  ends  of  the  kingdom  the  insolent  voice 
of  all  factions.  They  set  the  mtnds  of  men  more  at  variance, 
inflamed  their  tempers  to  a  greater  fierceness,  and  gave  a 
keener  edge  to  the  sharpness  of  civil  discord. 

Such  works  will  alwavs  find  adventurers  adapted  to  their 
aeurrilous  purposes,  wno  neither  want  at  times,  either  ta< 
lents,  or  boldness,  or  wit,  or  argument.  A  vast  crowd 
issued  from  the  press,  and  are  now  to  be  found  in  a  few 
private  collections.  They  form  a  race  of  authors  unknown 
to  most  readers  of  these  times;  the  names  of  some  of  their 
chiefs  however  have  just  reached  us,  and  in  the  minor  chro- 
nicle df  domestic  literature  I  rank  these  notable  heroes ; 
Marcharoont  Needham,  Sir  John  Birkenhead,  and  Sir 
Roger  L'Estranse. 

Marchamont  Needham,  the  great  patriarch  of  newspa- 
per writers,  was  a  man  of  Tersattle  talents  and  more  versa- 
tile politics  ;  a  bold  advenUirer,  and  most  successful,  be- 
cause the  most  profligate  of  his  tribe.  We  find  an  ample 
account  of  him  in  Anthony  Wood.  From  college  he  came 
to  London :  was  an  usher  in  Merchant  Taylor's  school ; 
then  an  under  clerk  in  Gray's  Tnn  ;  at  length  studied  phy- 
■ic,  and  practised  chemistry ;  and  finally  he  was  a  captain, 
and  in  the  words  of  honest  Anthony,  *  siding  with  the  root 
and  scum  of  the  people,  he  made  them  weekly  sport  by  rail- 
ing at  sll  that  was  noble,  in  his  Intelligence,  called  Mercu- 
rius Britannicos,  wherein  his  endeavours  were  to  sacrifice 
the  fame  of  some  lord,  or  any  person  of  quality,  and  of  the 
king  himself,  to  the  beast  with  many  heads.'  He  soon  be- 
eame  popular,  and  was  known  under  the  name  (^Captain 

*  I  have  written  the  history  of  tho  Msr-prelste  factton,  in 

*  Quarrels  of  Authors,*  which  our  historians  appears  not  to 
have  known.  The  materials  were  suppressed  by  government, 
and  not  preserved  even  in  our  national  depositories. 

I  A  curious  secret  history  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  by  lbs  Je- 
mdt  Parson. 

Needham  of  Gray's  Inn ;  and  whatever  he  now  wrote  was 
deemed  oracular.  But  whether  from  a  slight  imprison- 
ment for  aspersing  Charles  I,  or  some  pique  wiih  his  own 
party ;  he  requested  an  audience  on  his  knees  with  the 
king;  reconciled  himself  to  his  majesty,  and  showed  him- 
self a  violent  rovalist  in  his  *  Mecurius  Pragmalicus,'  and 
galled  the  presnyterians  with  his  wit  and  quips.  Soma 
lime  after,  when  the  popular  party  prevailed,  he  was  still 
further  enlightened,  and  was  got  over  by  President  Brad* 
shaw,  as  easily  as  by  Charles  I.  Our  Mercurial  writer 
became  once  more  a  virulent  presbyterian,  and  lashed  the 
royalists  outrageously  in  his  *  Mercurius  Politicus ;'  at 
length  on  the  return  of  Charles  11,  being  now  consciouS| 
says  our  friend  Anthony,  that  he  might  be  in  danger  of  the 
halter,  once  more  he  is  said  to  have  fled  into  Holland,  wait- 
ing for  an  act  of  oblirion.  For  money  given  to  a  hungry 
courtier,  Needham  obtained  his  pardon  under  tho  grea^ 
seal.  Ho  latterly  practised  as  a  physician  among  his  par- 
ty, but  lived  unive'rsaiiy  hftted  by  the  royalists,  and  now 
only  committed  harmless  treasons  with  the  College  of 
Physicians,  on  whom  he  poured  ail  that  gall  and  vinegar 
which  the  government  had  suppressed  from  flowing  through 
its  natural  channel. 
The  royalists  were  not  without  their  Needham  in  the 

Erompt  activity  of  Sir  John  Birkenhead.  In  buSboneryi 
eenness,  and  boldness,  havingbeen  frequently  imprisoned, 
he  was  not  inferior,  nor  was  he  at  times  less  an  adventurer. 
His  Mercurius  Aulicus  was  devoted  to  the  court,  then  at 
Oxford.  But  he  was  tlie  fertile  parent  of  numerous  politi* 
cal  pamphlets,  which  appears  to  abound  in  banter,  wit,  and 
satire.  He  had  a  promptness  to  seize  on  every  temporary 
circumstance,  and  a  facility  in  execution.  His  *  Paul's 
Church  Yard'  is  a  bantering  pamphlet,  containing  fictitious 
titles  of  books  and  acu  of  parliament,  reflecling  on  the  mad 
reformers  of  these  times.  One  of  his  poems  is  entitled 
*  The  Joltj  being  written  on  the  Protector  having  fallen  off 
his  own  coach-box :  Cromwell  had  received  a  present  from 
the  German  Count  Oldenburgh,  of  six  German  horses,  and 
attempted  to  drive  them  himself  in  Hyde  Park,  when  this 
great  political  Phaeton  met  the  accident,  of  which  Sir  John 
Birkenhead  was  not  slow  to  comprehend  the  benefit,  and 
hints  how  unfortunately  for  the  country  it  turned  out !  Sir 
John  was  during  the  dominion  of  CrtMnwell  an  author  by 
profession.  After  various  imprisonments  for  his  majesty's 
cause,  says  the  venerable  historian  of  English  literaturoi 
alreiujy  quoted,  <  he  lived  b^  his  wits,  in  nelping  young 
gentlemen  out  at  dead  liils  m  making  poems,  songs,  and 
epistles  on  and  to  their  mistresses ;  as  also  in  translating, 
and  other  petite  employments.'  He  lived  however  after 
the  Restoration  to  become  one  of  the  masters  of  requests, 
with  a  salary  of  3000/  a  year.  But  he  showed  the  base- 
ness of  his  spirit,  (says  Anthony,)  by  slighting  those  who 
had  been  his  benefactors  in  his  necessities. 

Sir  Roger  VEstrange  among  his  rivals  was  esteemed 
as  the  most  perfect  model  of  political  writmg.  The  temper 
of  tlie  man  was  factious,  and  the  compositions  of  the  author 
seem  to  us  coarse,  yet  I  suspect  they  contain  much  idi(mi»> 
tic  expression.  His  .£sop's  Fables  are  a  curious  speci- 
men of  familiar  style.  Cluecn  Mary  showed  a  due  con- 
tempt of  him  after  the  Revolution,  by  this  anagram ; 

Roger  L'Estrange. 
Lie  strange  Roger ! 

Such  were  the  three  pairisrchs  of  newspaper*.  Do 
Saint  Foix,  in  his  curious  Eesaia  hutoriquee  tur  Parit,  gives 
the  origin  of  newpapers  to  France.  Renaudot,  a  physi- 
cian at  Paris,  to  amuse  his  patients  was  a  great  collector 
of  news ;  and  he  found  by  these  means  that  he  was  more 
sought  after  than  his  more  learned  brethren.  But  as  the 
seasons  were  not  always  sickly,  and  he  had  many  hours 
not  occupied  by  his  patients,  he  reflected,  after  several 
years  of  sssiduity  given  up  to  this  singular  employment, 
that  he  might  turn  it  to  a  better  account,  by  giving  every 
week  to  his  patients,  who  in  this  case  were  the  public  at 
large,  some  fugitive  sheets  which  should  contain  the  news 
of  various  countries.  He  obtained  a  privilege  for  this  pur- 
pose in  1632. 

At  the  Restoration  the  proceedings  of  pariiament  wer« 
interdicted  to  be  published,  unless  by  authority  ;  and  tho 
first  daily  paper  after  the  Revolution  took  the  pK>pu1ar  titla 
erf" '  The  Orange  Intelligencer.* 

In  the  reign  of  Q,uecn  jlnrUf  there  was  but  one  daily 
paper :  the  others  were  weekly.  Some  attempted  to  in- 
troduce literary  subjects,  and  others  topics  of  a  more  gene- 
ral speculation.    Sir  Richard  Steele  formed  the  plan  of  his 



TatUr.  Eto  deaifnad  it  to  embrace  the  three  provinces,  of 
mannen  and  morala,  of  literature,  and  of  politics.  The 
public  were  to  be  conducted  insensibly  into  so  different  a 
tract  from  that  to  whidi  they  had  been  hitherto  accustom- 
ed. Hence  politics  were  admitted  into  his  paper.  But  it 
remained  for  the  chaster  genius  oTAddutm  to  banish  thii 
painful  topic  from  his  elegant  pages.  The  writer  in  polite 
letters  feU  himself  degraded  bjr  sinking  into  the  diurnal 
narrator  c^  political  events,  which  so  freauently  originate 
in  rumours  and  party  6ctioo.  From  tms  time,  news- 
papers and  periodical  literature  became  distinct  works— «t 
{»reaent,  there  seems  to  be  an  attempt  to  revive  tliis  union ; 
tis  a  retrograde  step  for  the  indepenaent  dignity  of  Uterature. 


The  strange  trials  to  which  those  suspected  of  guilt  were 
pat  in  the  nuddle  ages,  conducted  with  many  devout  cere- 
momes.  by  the  minisiers  of  religion,  were  pronounced  to 
be  thejuagmenU  ofQod  I  The  ordeal  consisted  of  various 
kinds:  walking  blindfold  amidst  burning  ploughshares 
passing  through  fires ;  holding  in  the  hand  a  red  hot  bar ; 
And  plunging  Uie  arm  into  boiling  water :  the  popular  affir- 
nationr-*  I  will  put  ray  hand  into  the  fire  to  confirm  this/ 
appears  to  be  denved  from  this  solemn  custom  of  our  rude 
ancestors.  Challenging  the  accuser  to  single  combat,  when 
frequently  the  stoutest  champion  was  aUowed  to  supply 
their  place ;  swallowing  a  morsel  of  consecrated  breadT ; 
■inking  or  swimming  in  a  river  for  witchcraft ;  or  weighing 
B  witch :  stretching  out  the  arms  before  the  cross,  till  the 
champion  soonest  wearied  dropped  his  arms,  and  lost  his 
estate,  which  was  decided  by  this  verv  short  chancery  suit, 
called  the  judicium  cruet*.  The  bisnop  of  Paris  and  the 
abbot  of  St  Denis  disputed  about  the  patronage  of  a  mo- 
nastery :  Pepin  the  short,  not  being  able  to  decide  on  their 
confused  claims,  decreed  one  of  these  judgments  of  God, 
that  of  the  cross.  The  bishop  and  abbot  each  chose  a 
man,  and  both  the  men  appearea  in  the  chapel,  where  they 
•tretched  out  their  arms  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  The  spec- 
tators, more  devout  than  the  mob  of  the  present  day,  but 
■till  the  mob,  were  piously  lUtentive,  but  beUed  however 
now  for  one  man,  now  for  tne  other,  and  critically  watched 
(he  slightest  motion  of  the  arms.  The  bishop's  man  was 
first  tired  :— he  let  bis  arms  fall,  and  ruined  his  patron^s 
cause  forever  !  Thoush  sometimes  these  trials  might  be 
duded  by  the  artifice  of  the  priest,  numerous  were  the  in- 
nocent victims  who  unquestionably  suffered  in  these  super- 
ititioas  practices. 

From  the  tenth  to  the  twelfth  century  they  were  very 
common.  Hildebert,  bishop  of  Mans,  being  accused  of 
high  treason  by  our  William  Rufus,  was  preparing  to  un- 
dergo one  of  these  trials ;  when  Ives,  btshop  of  Chartres, 
convinced  him  that  they  were  against  the  canons  of  the 
ooostitutions  of  the  church,  and  adds,  that  in  this  manner 
/nnoocnluim  defendtrty  est  innocentiam  perdere. 

An  abbot  ofSt  Aubin  of  Angers  in  1066,  having  refused 
to  present  a  horse  to  the  Viscount  of  Tours,  which  the  vis- 
count claimed  in  right  of  his  lordship,  whenever  an  abbot 
first  took  possession  of  that  abbey :  the  ecclesiastic  offered 
to  justify  oimself  by  the  trial  of  the  ordeal,  or  by  duel,  for 
which  he  proposed  to  furnish  a  man.  The  viscount  at  first 
agreed  to  the  duel;  but,  reflecting  that  these  comlwts, 
though  sanctioned  by  the  church,  depended  wholly  on  the 
■kill  or  vigour  <^  the  adversary,  and  could  therefore  afford 
no  substantial  proof  of  the  equity  of  his  claim,  he  proposed 
to  comiMt)mise  the  matter  in  a  manner  which  stroncly 
eharacterizes  the  times :  ho  waived  his  claim,  on  condition 
tiiat  the  abbot  should  not  forget  to  mention  in  his  prayers, 
Idmsetf',  his  wife,  and  his  brothers !  As  the  aritont  ap- 
peared to  the  abbot,  in  comparison  with  the  horatf  of  lilile 
or  no  value,  he  accepted  the  proposal. 

In  the  tenth  century  the  right  of  representation  was  not 
filed ;  it  was  a  question,  whether  the  sons  of  a  son  ought 
to  be  reckoned  among  the  chiUren  of  the  family ;  and  suc- 
oeed  equally  with  their  uncles,  if  their  fathers  happened  to 
die  wbue  their  grandfathers  survived.  This  point  was  de- 
cided by  one  or  these  combats.  The  champion  in  behalf 
of  the  right  of  children  to  represent  their  deceased  father 
proved  nctorioos.  It  was  then  established  by  a  perpetual 
decree  that  they  should  henceforward  share  in  the  inheri- 
tBDCOi  together  with  their  uodes.  In  the  eleventh  century 
the  same  mode  was  practised  to  decide  respecting  two 
rival  IJturgim!  A  pair  of  knights,  dad  in  complete  ai^ 
nwur,  were  the  critics  to  decide  wfaiih  was  the  authentic 
•ad  true  Liturgy. 
If  two  neignboart ,  say  the  oapitnUrles  of  Dagobert,  dis- 


pute  respecting  the  boundaries  of  their  posseesMmS|  W  b 
piece  ofturf  oi  the  contested  land  h<9  dug  up  by  the  jodge. 
and  brought  by  him  into  the  court,  and  the  two  parties  ^ittt 
touch  it  with  the  points  of  their  swords,  calling  un  GKid  ns 
a  witness  of  their  claims  v-«fter  this  let  them  eemftef,  and 
let  victory  decide  on  their  rights ! 

In  Germany,  a  solemn  circumstance  waa  praetiKed  in 
these  judicial  combats.  In  the  midst  of  the  list*,  th^ 
placed  a  Her.— By  its  side  stood  the  accuser  and  the  acK 
cused ;  one  at  the  head  and  the  other  at  the  foot  of  tho 
bier,  and  leaned  there  for  some  time  in  profound  sflenooy 
before  they  began  the  combat. 

Mr  Ellis,  in  his  elegant  preface  to  Way's  Fabliaooi, 
shows  how  faithfully  the  manners  of  (he  age  are  paintea 
in  these  ancient  tales,  by  observing  the  judicial  ooorfmt 
introduced  by  a  writer  of  the  fourteenth  century,  who  in 
his  poem  represents  Pilate  as  challenging  Jems  Christ 
to  nn^U  opin6crf,  and  another  who  describee  the 'person 
who  pierced  the  side  of  Christ  as  o  hidgkt  voh»  jon^tedw^ 

Judicial  combat  sppears  to  have  been  practised  bj  the 
Jews.  Whenever  the  rabbins  had  to  deade  on  a  dispute 
about  property  between  two  parties,  neither  of  which  eoukl 
produce  evidence  to  substantiate  his  claim  they  terminated 
It  by  single  couibat.  The  rabbins  were  impressed  by  a 
nouon  that  conciousness  of  right  would  give  additaona] 
confidence  and  strength  to  the  rightful  possessor.  Tbie 
appears  in  the  recent  sermon  of  a  rabbin.  It  may,  how- 
ever, be  more  philosophical  to  observe  that  such  jodlieial 
combats  were  more  frequently  favourable  to  the  crimmal 
than  to  the  innocent,  because  the  bold  wicked  man  is  usoal- 
ly  more  ferocious  and  hardy  than  he  whom  be  singles  oot 
as  bis  victim,  and  who  uniy  wishes  to  preserve  liis  own 
quiet  enjoyments— in  this  case  the  aesajlaat  is  the  more 
terrible  combatant. 
In  these  times  those  who  were  accused  of  robbery  were 
ut  to  trial  by  a  piece  of  barley-bread,  on  which  (he  maaa 
ad  been  said  ;  and  if  ihey  could  not  s%rallow  it  they  were 
declared  guilty.  This  mode  of  trial  was  improved  hf  add- 
ing to  the  bread  a  slice  of  cheeee  ;  and  such  were  thetr  cne* 
dmity  snd  firm  dependence  on  Heaven  in  these  rid'iouloua 
trials,  that  they  were  very  parUcular  in  (his  holy  bxidaad 
eheete  called  tne  cortned.  The  bread  was  to  m  of  uokBi- 
vened  barley,  and  the  cheese  made  of  ewe's  milk  in  tbo 
month  of  May. 

Du  Cange  observes,  that  the  expression— ^ilf«iy  tM$ 
piece  of  brwd  choke  vie  P  comes  from  this  custom.  ThA 
anecdote  of  Earl  Gkidwin*s  death  by  swallowing  a  piece  of 
bread,  in  making  this  asseveration,  is  recorded  in  oar  bin- 
tory.    If  it  be  true,  it  was  a  singular  misfeftuoe. 

Amongst  the  proofs  of  guilt  in  superstitious  ages  wan 
that  of  the  bleeding  oj  a  corpH,  If  a  person  was  murdered^ 
it  was  believed  that  at  the  touch  or  approach  of  the  mur* 
derer  the  blood  gushed  out  of  the  bodv  in  various  parts. 
By  the  side  of  the  bier,  if  the  slightest  change  was  ohmtxra^ 
ble  in  the  eyes,  the  mouth,  feet,  or  hands  of  the  corpse,  thn 
murderer  was  conjectured  to  be  present,  and  many  inno- 
cent spectators  must  have  suffered  death ;  *  lor  when  n 
body  is  full  of  blood,  warmed  by  a  sudden  external  heat 
and  a  putrefaction  coming  on,  some  of  the  blood-vceaela 
will  bunt,  as  they  will  all  in  time.*  This  practice  was 
once  allowed  in  England,  and  is  still  looked  on  in  soaoe  i£ 
the  uncivilized  parts  of  these  kingdoms  as  a  detection  of 
the  criminal.  It  forms  a  rich  picture  in  the  imagination  of 
our  old  writers ;  and  their  histories  and  ballads  are  laboaiw 
ed  into  pathos  by  dwelling  on  this  phenomenon. 

Robertson  observes  that  all  these  absurd  institutions  wcra 
cherished  from  (he  superstiUons  of  the  age  believing  lh« 
legendary  histories  of  those  saints,  who  crowd  and  di»» 
grace  the  Koman  calender.  These  Aibaloos  miracles  bad 
been  declared  authentic  by  the  bills  of  the  popee  and  ihm 
decrees  of  councils:  thev  were  greedily  swallowed  br  dm 
populace ;  and  whoever  Believeo  that  tne  Sapreeoe  Btsof 
had  interposed  miraculously  on  those  trivial  ocoasiona 
mentionea  in  legends^  eould  not  but  expect  his  intervjrntktfi 
in  matters  of  greater  importance  when  solemnly  referred  (o 
his  derision.  Besides  this  ingenious  remark,  the  Act  ia, 
that  these  customs  were  a  substitute  for  written  laws  wiiich 
that  barbarous  period  had  not ;  and  as  no  society  can  exiac 
without  imM,  the  ignorance  of  the  people  had  rteourse  lo 
these  cuetomMf  whidi,  bad  and  absurd  as  tbev  were,  served 
to  ciose  eootroversies  which  otherwise  might  have  given 
birth  (o  more  destructive  practices.  Ordeals  are  in  tmtli 
the  rode  laws  of  a  barbaroos  people  who  have  not  ^et  ob* 
tained  a  written  code,  and  not  advanced  enoogh  in  avfiliz»> 



doo  to  enter  into  the  refined  inquiries,  the  eubtile  dietinc* 
tkos  and  elAbormie  inTeatifatiooa,  which  a  court  of  law 

May  we  suppose  that  these  ordeals  owe  their  origin  to 
that  one  of  Moses,  called  the  *  Waters  of  Jealousy  V 
The  Greeks  likewbe  had  ordeals,  for  in  the  Aniigoous  of 
Sophocles,  the  soMiem  offer  to  prove  their  innocence  by 
handling  red-hot  iron,  and  walking  between  firan.  One 
cannot  but  smile  at  the  whimsical  ordeals  of  the  Siamese. 
Among  other  practices  to  discover  the  justice  of  a  cause, 
civil  or  criminal,  they  are  particularly  attached  to  using  cer- 
tain consecrated  purgative  pills,  which  they  make  the  coi^ 
tendins  parties  swallow.  He  who  retaina  them  longest 
gains  his  cause !  The  practice  of  giving  Indians  a  conse- 
crated grain  of  rice  to  swallow  is  kifow  to  discover  the 
thief,  in  any  company,  by  the  contortions  and  dismay  evi- 
dent on  the  countenance  of  the  real  thief. 

But  to  return  to  the  middle  ages.  They  were  ac^uuot- 
od  in  those  times  with  secrete  to  pass  imhuit  these  smgular 
trials.  Voltaire  mentions  one  for  undergoing  the  ordeal  of 
boiling  water.  Our  late  travellers  in  the  east  have  con- 
firmed this  statement.  The  Mevleheh  dervises  can  hold 
red  hot  iron  between  their  teeth.  Such  artifices  have  been 
often  publicly  exhibited  at  Paris  and  London.  Mr  Sharon 
Turner  observes  on  the  ordeals  of  the  Anglo  Saxons,  that 
the  hand  was  not  to  be  immediately  inspected,  and  was 
left  to  the  chance  of  a  good  constituticm  to  be  so  far  healed 
during  three  da^s  (the  time  they  reciuired  it  to  be  bound  up 
and  Maled,  belore  it  was  ezammed)  as  to  discover  those 
appearances  when  inspected,  which  were  allowed  to  be  sa- 
tisfactory. There  was  likewise  much  preparatory  training 
suggested  by  the  more  experienced ;  besides,  the  accused 
had  an  opportunity  of  going  alone  into  the  churckf  and 
making  terma  with  the  nrieatt.  Tho  few  apectatore  were  al- 
ways ditUmt :  an  d  cold  iron,  &c,  might  be  substituted,  and 
the  fire  diminished  at  the  moment,  &c. 

Doubtless  thev  possessed  these  secrets  and  medicaments, 
which  they  had  at  hand,  to  pass  thrnugh  these  trials  in 
perfect  security.  Camerarius,  in  his  *  Hone  Subscedvie,' 
gives  an  aneodote  of  these  times  which  may  serve  to 
•how  their  readiness.  A  rivalship  existed  between  the 
Austin  friars  and  the  Jesuits.  The  father  general  of  the 
Austin  friars  was  dining  with  the  Jesuits ;  and  when  the 
table  was  removed,  he  entered  into  a  formal  discourse  of 
the  superiority  of  the  monastic  order,  and  charged  the  Je- 
suits in  unqualified  terms,  with  assuming  the  title  of  *  fr»- 
tres,'  while  they  held  not  the  three  vows,  which  other 
monks  were  obliged  to  consider  as  sacred  and  binding.  The 
general  of  the  Austin  friars  was  very  eloquent  and  very 
anthoriiative;— «nd  the  superior  of  the  Jesuits  was  very 
unlearned,  but  not  half  a  fool. 

He  did  not  care  to  enter  the  list  of  controversy  with  the 
Austin  friar,  but  arrested  his  triumph  by  asking  him  if  he 
would  see  one  of  his  friars,  who  pretended  to  oe  nothing 
moro  than  a  Jesuit,  and  one  of  the  Austin  friars  who  reli- 
giously performed  the  aforesaid  three  vows,  show  instantly 
which  01  them  would  be  the  readier  to  obey  his  superiors  7 
The  Austin  friar  consented.  The  Jesuit  then  turning  to 
one  of  his  brothers,  the  holy  friar  Mark,  who  was  waiting 
on  them,  said,  *  Brother  Mark,  our  companions  are  coM. 
I  command  you,  in  virtue  of  the  holy  obedience  you  have 
■worn  to  me,  to  bring  here  instantly  out  of  the  kitchen  fire, 
and  in  your  hands,  aotap  burning  coals,  that  they  may 
warm  themselves  over  your  hands.'  Father  Mark  in- 
stantly obeys,  and  to  the  astonishment  of  the  Austin  fiiars, 
brought  in  nis  hand  a  supply  of  red  burning  coals,  and  held 
them  to  whoever  chose  to  warm  himself;  snd  at  the  com- 
mand of  his  superior  returned  them  to  the  kitchen  hearth. 
The  general  of  the  Austin  friars,  with  the  rest  of  his  bro- 
therhood, stood  amazed ;  he  looked  wistfully  on  one  of  his 
monks,  as  if  he  wished  to  command  him  to  do  the  like.^ 
But  tho  Austin  monk,  who  perfectly  understood  him,  and 
saw  this  was  not  a  time  to  hesitate,  observed,— ^Reverend 
father,  forbear,  and  do  not  command  me  to  tempt  Grod !  I 
am  ready  to  fetch  you  fire  in  a  chafing  dish,  but  not  in  my 
bare  hands.'  The  triumph  of  the  Jesuits  was  complete ; 
and  it  is  not  necessary  to  add,  that  the  miracle  was  noised 
about,  and  that  the  Austin  friars  could  never  account 
for  it,  notwithstanding  their  strict  performance  of  the  three 

the  heretics  they  were  sent  to  convert,  that  most  of  them 
were  assasinated  at  Toulouse  in  the  year  liOO.  He 
called  in  the  aid  of  temporal  arms,  and  published  aginst 
them  a  crusade,  granting,  as  was  usual  with  the  popes  on 
similar  occasions,  all  kmi  of  indulgences  and  paroous  to 
those  who  should  arm  against  the  Mahometant,  so  he 
styled  these  unfortimate  men.  Once  all  were  Turks  when 
they  were  not  catholics !  Raymond,  Count  of  Toulouse, 
was  constrained  to  submit.  The  inhabitants  were  passed 
on  the  edge  of  the  sword,  without  distinction  of  age  or  sex. 
It  was  then  he  established  that  scourge  of  Europe.  Tho 
Inquisition  :  for  having  considered  that  though  all  might 
be  compelled  to  submit  by  arms,  numbers  migiit  remain 
who  would  profess  particular  dogmas^  he  established  this 
sanguinary  tribunal  solely  to  inspect  mlo  all  families,  and 

njire  omceming  all  persons  who  they  imagined  were 
riendly  to  the  interests  of  Romo.  Dominic  did  su  much 
by  his  persecuting  inquiries,  that  he  firmly  established  the 
imiuisition  at  Toulouse. 

Not  before  the  year  1484  it  became  known  in  Spam.^ 
To  another  Dominican,  John  de  Torquemada,  the  court  of 
Rome  owed  this  obligation.  As  he  was  the  confessor  of 
Q,ueen  Isabella,  he  had  extorted  from  her  a  promise  that  if 
ever  she  ascended  the  throne,  she  would  use  overy  means 
to  extirpate  heresy  and  heretics.  Ferdinand  had  conquer- 
ed Granada,  and  had  expelled  from  the  Spanish  realm 
multitudes  of  unfortunate  Moors.  A  few  remained,  whom, 
with  the  Jews,  he  compelled  to  become  Christians :  they, 
at  least  assumed  the  name ;  but  it  was  well  known  that 
both  these  nations  naturally  respected  their  own  faith,  rap 
ther  than  that  of  the  Christian.  This  race  was  afterwards 
distinguished  as  Chrietianoe  Novoe :  and  in  forming  mar* 
riages,  the  blood  of  the  Hidalgo  was  considered  to  rose  its 
purity  by  minsling  with  such  a  suspicious  source. 

Torquemada  prutended  that  this  dissimulation  wonld 
greatly  hurt  the  interests  of  the  holy  religion.  The  queen 
ustened  with  respectful  diffidence  to  her  confessor ;  and  at 
length  gained  over  the  king  to  consent  to  the  establishment 
of  this  unrelenting  tribunal.  Torquemada,  indefatigable 
in  his  xeal  for  the  holy  seat,  in  the  space  of  fourteen  yean 
that  he  exercised  the  office  of  chief  inquisitor,  is  said  to 
have  prosecuted  near  eighty  thousand  persons,  of  whom 
six  thousand  were  c<Nidemned  to  the  flames ! 

Voltaire  attributes  the  taciturnity  of  the  Spaniards  to  the 
universal  horror  such  proceedings  spread.  <  A  general  jeal- 
ousy and  suspicion  took  possession  of  all  ranks  of  people : 
friendship  and  sociability  were  at  an  end !  Brothers  were 
afraid  of  brothers,  fathers  of  their  children. 

The  situations  and  the  feelings  of  one  imprisoned  in  the 
cells  of  the  inquisition  are  forcibly  painted  by  Orobio,  a 
mild,  and  meek,  and  learned  roan,  whose  ccmtroversy  with 
Limborch  is  well  known.  When  he  escaped  from  Spain 
he  took  refiige  in  Holland,  was  circumcised,  and  died  a 
philosophical  Jew.  He  has  left  this  admirable  description 
of  himself  in  the  cell  of  the  inquisition.  *  Inclosed  in  this 
dungeon  I  could  not  even  find  space  enough  to  turn  myself 
about ;  I  suffered  so  much  that  I  felt  my  brain  disordered. 
1  frequently  asked  myself,  am  I  really  Don  Bathazaar 
Orobio,  who  used  to  walk  about  Seville  at  my  pleasure, 
who  so  much  enioyed  myself  with  my  wife  and  chiUm? 
I  often  imagined  that  all  my  life  had  only  been  a  dream, 
and  that  I  really  had  been  bom  in  this  dungeon !  The 
<mly  amusement  I  coukl  invent  was  metaphysical  dis- 
putations.   I  was  at  once  opponent,  respondent,  and  pnn- 



lonocsot  the  Third,  a  pope  as  enterprising  as  he  was 
meeessfui  m  his  enterprises,  having  sent  Dominie  with 
tome  misiiopaftiiB  into  Languedoc,  uese  men  so  irritated 

In  the  cathedral  at  SaragoMa  is  the  tomb  of  a  famoos 
inquisitor ;  six  pillars  surrounded  his  tomb,  to  each  is 
chsined  a  Moor,  as  preparatory  to  his  being  burnt  On 
this  St  Foix  ingeniously  observes,  <  If  ever  the  Jack  Ketch 
of  any  country  should  be  rich  enough  to  have  a  splendid 
tomb,  this  might  serve  ss  an  excellent  model.' 

The  inquisition,  as  Bayle  informs  us,  punished  heretics 
hjJSrtf  to  elude  the  manra,  Eedemanon  novit  tangidnem  : 
for,  burning  a  man,  say  they,  does  not  dud  kit  blood ! 
Otho,  the  btuhop  at  the  'rTorman  invasion,  in  the  tapestry 
worked  by  Matilda  the  queen  of  William  the  Conqueror, 
is  represented  with  a  moee  in  his  hand,  for  the  purpose,  that 
when  he  detpatehed  his  antagonist,  he  might  not  opUl  blood, 
but  only  break  his  bones !  Religion  has  had  her  quibUea 
as  well  as  law 

The  establishment  of  this  despotic  order  was  resisted 
in  France ;  but  it  may  perhaps  surprise  the  reader  that  a 
recorder  of  London  in  a  speech  urged  the  necessity  of  sit- 
ting lip  an  inqiusition  in  England !  It  was  on  the  trial  of 
Penn  the  quaker,  in  1670,  who  was  acquitted  by  the  Jury, 



^Hiich  Mems  highly  to  hmve  provoked  the  aaid  recorder, 
Magna  Charta^  wniee  the  prefacer  to  ihe  trial,  *  with  the 

recorder  of  LoDiJoD,  ia  nochiiig  more  than  Magna  F ." 

It  appears  that  the  jury  after  being  kept  two  daya  and  two 
Bighu  lo  change  their  Terdict,  were  iu  the  end  both  fined 
and  imprisoned.  8ir  John  Howell,  the  recorder,  said, 
*  Till  now  I  never  understood  the  reason  of  the  policy  and 
prudence  of  the  Spaniards  in  suffering  the  inouisiiion  among 
them ;  and  certamly  it  will  not  be  well  with  us,  till  some- 
thing Uhe  unto  the  Spattiah  mguiaUian  be  in  England,*^ 
Thus  it  will  ever  be,  while  both  parties  strutfj^liug  lor  the 
pre-eminence,  rush  to  the  sharp  extremity  ot  things,  and 
annihilate  the  trembling  balance  of  the  cooitiioiion.  But 
the  footed  motto  of  Lord  Erskinc  must  ever  be  that  of 
every  Briton,  *  Trial  by  Jvry.* 

So  late  as  the  year  1761,Uabriel  Malagrida,  an  ok)  man 
of  seventy  was  burnt  by  these  evangvlical  ezeculionera.— 
His  trial  was  primed  at  Amsterdam,  176S,from  the  Lisbon 
copy .  And  for  what  was  this  unhappy  Jesuit  condemned  ? 
Not,as  some  have  imagined,for  his  naving  been  concerned 
in  a  conspiracy  against  the  kinir  of  Portugal.  No  other 
charge  is  laid  to  him  in  this  uial,  but  that  of  having  indulg- 
ed certain  heretical  notions,  which  any  other  tribunal  but 
that  of  the  ioquuition  would  have  looked  upon  as  the  de- 
lirious fancies  of  an  old  fanatic.  Will  posterity  believe 
that  in  the  eighteenth  century  an  aged  visionary  was  led  to 
the  stake  for  having  said,  amongst  other  extravagances, 
that  *  The  Holy  Virgin  having  commanded  him  to  write 
the  life  of  Antichrist,  told  him  that  he,Malagrida,  was  a 
second  John,  but  more  clear  than  John  the  Evangelist : 
that  there  were  to  be  three  Anti-Christs,  and  that  the  last 
•boald  be  bom  at  Milan,  of  a  monk  and  a  nun,  in  the  year 
mo ;  and  that  he  would  marry  Proserpine,  one  of  the  iiw 
fernal  furies  7' 

For  such  ravings  as  these  the  unhappy  old  man  was 
burnt  in  recent  times.  Granger  assures  us  that  in  his 
remembrance  a  Aorse  that  had  been  taught  to  tell  the 
•pots  upon  cards,  the  hour  of  the  day,  &c,  by  significant 
tokens,  was,  together  with  his  oumer,  put  into  the  inquisi- 
tion for  both  of  them  dealing  with  the  aevil !  A  man  of  let- 
ters declared  that,  having  nillen  into  their  hands,  nothing 
perplexed  him  so  much  as  the  ignorance  o:  the  inquisitor 
and  his  council ;  and  it  seemed  very  doubtful  whether  they 
had  read  even  the  scriptures. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  anecdotes  relating  to  the  ter- 
rible inquieitiou,  exemplifying  how  the  use  of  the  diabolical 
engines  of  torture  force  men  to  confess  crimes  they  have 
not  been  guilty  of,  is  related  by  a  Puriuguese  gentleman. 

A  nobleman  in  Lisbon  having  heard  that  his  physician 
and  friend  was  imprisoned  by  the  inquisirion,  under  the 
•tale  pretext  of  Judaism,  addressed  a  letter  to  one  of  ihem 
to  reqqest  his  freedom,  assuring  the  inquisitor  that  his  friend 
was  as  orthodox  a  christian  as  himself.  The  physician, 
notwithstanding  this  high  recommendation,  was  put  to  the 
torture ;  and,  as  was  usually  the  case,  at  the  height  of  his 
aufferinss  confessed  every  thing  they  wished.  This  en* 
raged  the  nobleman,  and  feigning  a  danierous  illness,  he 
begged  the  inquisitor  would  come  togivebim  his  last  spiri- 
tual aid. 

As  soon  as  the  Dominican  arrived,  the  lord,  who  had 
prepared  his  confidential  servants,  commanded  the  inquisi- 
tor in  their  presence  lo  acknowledge  himself  a  Jew,  to 
write  his  confession,  and  to  sign  it.  On  the  refusal  of  the 
inquisitor  the  nobleman  ordered  his  people  to  put  ou  the 
inquisitor's  head  a  red  hot  helraet,whicn  to  his  astonishment 
in  drawing  aside  a  screen,  he  beheld  glowing  in  a  small 
furnace.  At  the  sight  of  this  new  instrument  of  torture, 
<  Luke's  iron  crown,'  the  monk  wrote  and  subscribed  the 
abhorred  confession.  The  nobleman  then  observed,  *  See 
now  the  enormity  of  your  manner  of  proceeding  with  un- 
happy men !  My  poor  physician,  Uke  you,  has  confessed 
Judaism;  but  with  this  difference,  only  torments  have 
forced  that  from  him,  which  fear  alone  has  drawn  from 
you  !* 

The  inquisition  has  not  fiiiled  of  receiving  its  due  praises. 
Macedo,  a  Portuguuse  Jesuit,  has  /liscovered  the  '  Origin 
of  the  /ayiositioa'  m  the  terrestrial  Paradise,  and  presumes 
to  alleffe,  that  God  was  the  first  who  began  the  functions 
of  an  tnfiostlsr  over  Cain  and  the  workmen  of  Babel !  Ma- 
cedo, howerer  is  not  so  dreaming  a  personage  as  he  ap- 
pears ;  for  he  obtained  a  professors  chair  at  Panda  fur  the 
arguments  he  deliverfid  at  Venice  against  the  pope,  which 
were  published  by  the  title  of  *  The  literarv  Roarinss  of 
the  Lion  at  St  Mark ;'  besides  he  b  the  author  of  109  dif- 
ftrcnt  works;   bat  it  b  curious  to  observe  how  far  our  in- 

terest IS  apt  to  prevail  orar  sur  ««'«m«»«^|— Mnirnh 
praised  the  Inquisitioa  op  to  hoAVsa,  whiU  hs  sank  tb« 
pope  to  nothing ! 

Among  the  sreat  revolutioM  of  ibb  age,  and  sinea  th$ 
last  edition  of  ibese  volumes,  the  inquisition  in  Spain  and 
Portugal  b  abolbhed— but  ite  history  enters  into  tbai  of  ihn 
human  mind ;  and  the  hbtory  of  the  inqttbiiion  by  Lsm* 
borch,  translated  by  Chandler,  with  m  very  curious  *  Xatf 
duction,'  loses  none  of  iu  value  with  thophiloso^iinal  mind* 
Thb  monstrous  tribunal  of  human  opinions  aimed  at  thn 
sovereignly  of  the  intellectual  world  without  intellect. 



The  philosophical  compiler  of  VEtpntieaUaagm  tf 
du  Coiitemes,  has  arranged  the  greater  part  of  the  prnanl 

The  Maldivian  islanders  sat  alone.  They  retire  into 
the  most  hidden  parte  of  their  bouses ;  and  they  draw  dowa 
the  cloths  that  serre  as  blinds  to  their  windows,  that  thsgr 
may  eat  unobserved.  Thb  custom  probably  arises  from 
the  savage,  in  the  early  periods  of  society,  eoacealing  hii^ 
self  to  eat :  he  fears  that  another  with  as  sharp  an  appetite, 
but  more  strong  than  himself,  should  come  and  rmvith  bb 
meal  from  him.  The  ideas  of  witchcraft  aro  also  widely 
spread  among  barbarians ;  and  they  are  not  m  little  fs«r^ 
ful  that  some  incantetion  may  be  thrown  among  Ihsir 

In  noticing  the  solitary  meal  of  the  Maldivian  blandar, 
another  reason  may  be  alleged  for  thb  misanthropical  m» 
past.  They  never  will  eat  with  any  one  who  b  inferior  to 
them  in  birth,  in  riches,  or  in  dignity ;  and  as  it  b  a  difficult 
matter  to  settle  this  equality,  they  are  condemned  to  lead 
this  unsocbble  lifis. 

On  the  contrary,  the  blanders  of  the  Philippines  ars  r^ 
markably  sociable.  Whenever  one  of  them  finds  himself 
without  a  companion  to  partake  of  hb  meal,  he  runs  till  bn 
meeU  with  one ;  and  we  are  assured  that,  however  kaca 
hb  appetite  may  be,  he  ventures  not  to  satisfy  it  without  % 

Savages,  (say  Montaigne)  when  tbey  eat,  <  dTsssi 
Ih  doigU  aux  cuiteea,  A  la  baune  dee  ginifoiree^  si  d  in 
pUmU  dee  piede.*     We  cannot  forbear  exuluag  ioihepo^ 
ished  convenience  of  napkins! 

The  tables  of  the  rich  Chinese  shine  with  a  beautiful 
varnish,  and  are  covered  wiih  silk  carpete  very  elegaail/ 
worked.  They  do  not  make  use  of  plates,  knives,  and 
forks:  every  suest  has  two  liule  ivory  or  ebony  sdcks« 
which  he  handles  Ycrt  adroitly. 

The  Otaheitans,  who  are  naturally  sociable,  and  very 
gentle  in  their  manners,  feed  separatply  from  each  oiber.^* 
At  the  hour  of  repast,  the  members  of  each  family  divide  ; 
two  brothers,  two  sisters,  and  even  husband  and  wife,  Ih^ 
ther  and  mother,  have  each  their  rcspccuve  basket.  They 
place  themselves  at  the  distance  of  two  or  thren  yante 
from  each  other;  ihey  turn  their  backs,  and  take  their 
meal  in  profound  silnnoe. 

The  custom  of  drinkios  at  different  hours  from  ihoso 
assigned  for  eating,  is  to  be  met  wiih  amongst  many  sSi* 
vage  nations.  It  was  originally  begun  from  necessiiy.  It 
became  a  habit,  which  subsisted  even  when  the  (Mintam 
was  near  to  them.  A  people  transplanted,  olisvnres  oim 
iiweiiious  philoeopher,  preserve  in  another  dimate  mods* 
of  hviog  which  relate  to  those  fr«»m  whence  they  originally 
came.  It  b  thus  the  Indians  of  Braxil  scrapbloosly  abstain 
from  eating  when  they  drink,  and  from  drinking  wiion  tbay 

When  neither  decency  nor  politeness  are  known,  tbs 
man  who  invites  hb  friends  to  a  repast  b  greatly  embarw 
rassed  to  testify  hb  esteem  for  hb  gueste,  and  to  preeeat 
them  with  some  amusement ;  fur  the  ssvage  guest  impesas 
on  him  thb  obligation.  Amongst  the  gfvaier  pan  of  tbo 
American  Indbns,  the  host  is  continually  on  the  watdi  to 
solicit  them  to  eat,  but  touches  nothing  himself.  In  New 
France  he  wearies  himself  with  singing,  to  divsrt  thn 
company  while  they  eat. 

When  civilisation  advances,  men  wish  to  show  their 
confidence  to  their  friends :  they  trraX  their  guests  as  r^ 
lations;  and  it  b  said  that  in 'China  Ihe  master  of  the 
house  to  give  a  mark  of  hb  politeness,  abemu 
while  his  gueste  r^ale  themselves  at  hb  taUe  with 
torhed  revelry. 

The  demonstrations  of  fnendiship  in  a  mAe  slats  bass  a 
savage  and  gross  character,  which  it  b  not  a  bttio  air 
to  oMsnrr.    The  Tartan  pull  a  man  by  tba  ear  to 



him  to  driok,  and  they  continue  tormenting  him  till  he 
opens  his  mouth,  then  they  clap  their  hands  and  dance  be- 
fore him. 

No  customs  seem  more  ridiculous  than  those  practised 
by  a  Kamschatkan,  when  he  wishes  to  make  another  his 
friend.  Ha  first  invites  him  to  eat.  The  host  and  his 
guest  strip  theinseWes  in  a  cabin  which  is  heated  to  an  un- 
common degree.  While  the  guest  devours  the  food  with 
which  they  serve  him,  the  other  continually  stirs  the  tire. 
The  stranger  must  bear  the  excess  of  the  heat  as  well  as 
of  the  repast.  He  vomits  ten  times  before  he  will  yield  ; 
but,  at  length  oblignd  to  acknowledge  himself  overcome,  he 
begms  to  compound  matters.  He  purchases  a  moment's 
respite  by  a  present  of  clothes  or  dogs  ;  for  his  bust  threat- 
ens to  heat  tne  cabin,  and  to  oblige  him  to  eat  till  he  dies. 
The  stranger  has  the  right  of  retaliation  allowed  to  him : 
he  treats  in  the  same  manner,  and  exacts  the  same  pre- 
aentfl.  Should  his  host  not  accept  the  invitation  of  him 
whom  he  had  handsomely  regaled,  in  that  case  the  guest 
would  take  possession  of  his  cabin,  till  he  haJ  the  prcMents 
raturned  :o  him  which  the  other  had  in  so  smgular  a  man- 
ner obtained. 

For  this  extravagant  custom  a  curious  reason  has  been 
alleged.      It  is  meant  to  put  the  person  to  a  trial,  whose 
friendship  is  sought.    The  Kamschatdale,  who  is  at  the 
expense  of  the  fires,  and  the  repast,  is  desirous  to  know  if 
the  stranger  has  the  strength  to  support  pain  wiih  him,  and 
if  he  is  generous  enough  to  share  with  him  some  part  of 
hia  property.      While  the  guest  is  employed  on  his  meal, 
he  contmues  heating  the  cabin  to  an  insupportable  degree  ; 
and  for  a  last  proof  of  the  stranger's  constancy  and  attach- 
ment h«  exacts  more  clothes  and  more  dovs.      The  host 
passes  ihp)Uffh  the  same  ceremonies  in  the  cabin  of  the 
stranger  ;  and  he  shows,  in  his  turn,  with  what  Anfiree  of 
fortitude  he  can  defend  his  friend.     The  roost  singular  cu^ 
toms  would  appear  simple,  if  it  were  possible  for  the  phi- 
loeopherto  understand  tliem  on  the  spot. 

As  a  distinguishing  mark  of  their  esteem,  the  negroes  of 
4rdra  drink  out  of  one  cup  at  the  same  time.  The  king 
if  Loango  eats  in  one  house,  and  drinks  in  another.  A 
KamsChatkan  kneels  before  his  guest ;  he  cuts  an  enor- 
mous slice  from  a  sea-calf;  he  crams  it  entire  into  the 
mouth  of  his  friend,  furiously  crying  out  *  Tana  .''—There  ! 
and  cutting  away  what  hangs  about  his  lips,  snatches  and 
swallows  it  with  aviditv. 

A  barbarous  magnincence  attended  the  feasts  of  the 
ancient  monarchs  of  France.  After  their  coronation  or 
consecration,  when  they  sat  at  table,  the  nobility  served 
them  on  horseback. 


Saint  Chrysostom  has  this  very  acute  observutbn  on 
kmgt :  many  monarchs  are  infected  with  the  strange  wish 
that  their  successors  may  turn  out  bad  princes.  Qood 
kings,  desire  it,  as  they  imagine,  continucn  this  pious  poli- 
tician, that  their  filory  will  appear  the  more  splendid  by  the 
contrast :  and  the  oad  desire  it,  as  they  consider  such 
kittcs  will  serve  to  countenance  their  own  misdemeanors. 

Princes,  says  Ghtician.  are  willing  to  be  ddtdf  but  not 
awraoassd;    which  maxim  is  thus  illustrated. 

A  Spanish  lord  having  frequently  played  at  chess  with 
Philip  II,  and  won  all  the  games,  perceived,  when  his  ma- 
jaaty  rose  from  play,  that  he  was  much  ruffled  with  chagrin. 
The  lord  when  he  returned  home,  said  to  his  family,—*  My 
ehiUren,  we  have  nothing  more  to  do  at  court ;  there  we 
must  expect  no  favour ;  for  the  king  is  offended  at  my  hav- 
mg  won  of  him  every  game  of  chesa.'— As  chess  entirely 
depends  on  the  genius  of  the  players,  and  not  on  fortune. 
King  Philip  the  cheaa  player  conceived  he  ought  to  suffer 
no  rival. 

This  appears  still  clearer  by  the  anecdote  told  of  the 
Earl  of  Sunderland,  minister  to  George  I,  who  was  partial 
lo  the  game  of  chess.  He  once  played  with  the  Laird  of 
Cluny,  and  the  learned  Cunningham,  the  editor  of  Horace. 
Cunaingiiam  with  too  much  skill  ami  too  much  sincerity, 
bnat  his  lordship.  <  The  Earl  was  so  fretted  at  his  supe- 
riority and  Ruriiness,  that  he  dismissed  him  without  any 
reward.  Cluny  allowed  himself  sometimes  to  be  beaten ; 
and  by  that  means  got  his  pardon,  with  aomething  hand- 
some besides.' 

In  the  eriticnn  of  Gracian,  there  ia  a  sixigular  anecdote 
relative  to  kines. 

A  great  Polish  monarch  having  quitted  nis  companions 
when  be  was  hunting,  hu  courtiers  found  him,  a  few  days 
AAar,  in  a  market-place,  disguiaad  u  a  porter,  and  lending 

out  the  use  of  his  shoulders  for  a  few  pence.  At  this  they 
were  as  much  surprijied,  as  they  were  doubtful  at  first 
whether  tlitt  porter  could  be  his  majealy.  At  length  they 
ventured  to  express  iheir  complaints,  that  so  great  a  pon> 
sonage  should  debase  himself  by  so  vile  an  employ,  ijlis 
majesty  having  heard,  answered  them, — '  Upon  my  honour, 
gentlemen,  the  load  which  I  quitted  is  by  far  heavier  ihan 
the  one  you  see  me  carry  here :  the  weightiest  is  but  a 
straw,  when  compared  lo  that  world  under  which  I  labour* 
ed.  I  have  slept  more  in  four  nights  than  I  have  during 
all  my  reign.  I  begin  to  live,  and  to  be  king  of  myself. 
Elect  whom  you  choose.  For  me,  who  am  so  well,  it  were 
madness  to  return  to  court. ^  Another  Polish  king,  who 
succeeded  this  philosophic  numareh  and  porUr^  when  they 
placed  the  sceptre  in  nis  hand,  exclaimed,—*  I  had  rather 
manage  an  oar  /'  The  vacillating  fortunes  of  the  Polish 
monarchy  present  several  of  these  anecdotes  ;  their  mo« 
narchs  appear  to  have  frequently  been  philosophers  ;  and 
as  the  world  is  made,  an  excellent  philosopher  proves  but 
an  indifferent  king. 

Two  observations  on  kings  were  made  to  a  coartier  with 
great  wnveti  by  that  experienced  politician  the  Dukfi  of 
Alva.—*  Kings  who  affect  to  be  familiar  with  their  com- 
panions make  use  of  men  as  they  do  of  oranget  they  tako 
oranges  to  extract  their  juice ;  and  when  they  are  well 
sucked  they  throw  them  away.  Take  care  the  king  doei 
not  do  the  same  to  you  ;  be  careful  that  he  does  not  read 
all  your  thoughts ;  otherwise  he  will  throw  you  aside  to  the 
back  of  his  chest,  as  a  book  of  which  he  has  read  enough. 
*  The  squeezed  orange,'  the  king  of  Prussia  applied  in  fail 
dispute  with  Voltaire. 

When  it  was  suggested  to  Dr  Johnson  that  kings  must 
be  unhappy  because  they  are  deprived  of  the  greatest  of 
all  satisfactions,  easv  and  unreserved  society,  he  observed 
that  *  this  was  an  ilUfouoded  notion.  Being  a  king  does 
not  exclude  a  man  from  such  society.  Great  kin^s  havo 
always  been  social.  The  king  of  Prussia,  the  only  great 
king  at  present,  (this  was  the  great  Frederic)  is  very  ao- 
cial.  Charles  the  Second,  the  last  king  of  England  who 
was  a  man  of  parts,  was  social ;  our  Henrys  and  Edwarda 
were  all  social.' 

The  Marquis  of  Halifax  in  his  character  of  Charles  IT, 
has  exhibited  a  trait  in  the  Royal  character  of  a  good- 
natured  monarch;  thattrotf,  is  soun/ervng.  I  transcribe 
this  curious  observation,  which  introduces  us  into  a  .evee. 

*  There  was  as  much  of  laziness  as  of  love  in  all  thoaa 
hours  which  he  pa^spd  amongst  his  mistresses,  who  servea 
only  to  fill  up  hii  seraglio,  while  a  bewitching  kind  of  plea* 
sure,  called  Sauntering,  was  the  sultana  queen  he  debghf- 
ed  in. 

*  The  thing  called  sauntering  is  a  stronger  temptation  to 
princes  than  it  is  to  others.  The  being  galled  wi:b  impor- 
tunities, pursued  from  one  room  to  another  wi'h  askinc 
faces ;  the  dismal  sound  of  unreasonable  comptaints  aiM 
ill-grounded  pr«!tencefl  :  the  deformity  of  fraud  ill-disguis- 
ed : — all  those  would  make  any  man  run  away  from  them, 
and  I  used  to  think  it  was  the' motive  for  making  him  walk 
BO  fast.' 



The  title  of  iUuatrioua  was  never  given,  till  the  reign  of 
Constantino,  but  to  those  whose  reputation  was  splendid 
in  arms  or  in  letters.  Adulation  had  not  yet  adopted  this 
noble  word  into  her  vocabulary.  Suetonius  composed  a 
book  to  record  those  who  had  possessed  this  title ;  and,  as 
it  was  then  bestowed,  a  moderate  volume  was  sufficient  to 
contain  their  names. 

In  the  time  of  Constantino,  the  title  of  iUvitrioui  was 
given  more  pariicularly  to  those  princes  who  had  distin- 
guished themselves  in  war;  but'  it  waa  not  continued  to 
tneir  descendants.  At  length,  it  became  very  common ; 
and  every  son  of  a  princo  was  iUtutrioua,  It  is  now  a  con- 
venient epithet  for  the  poet. 

There  is  a  very  proper  distinction  to  be  made  between 
the  epithets  of  illustrious,  and  famous. 

Niceron  has  entitled  his  celebrated  work,  ATeinotrt  pour 
9tTvir  a  Phuteiro  dta  hammea  iliusures  dana  ia  Repubaam 
dea  LdUrtM,  The  epithet  illustrious  is  always  received  in 
an  honourable  sense  ;  yet  in  those  Memoirs  are  inserted 
many  authors  who  have  only  written  with  the  design  of 
combating  religion  and  morality.  Such  writers  as  Tanini, 
Spinosa,  Woolston,  Toland,  «c,  had  been  better  charao- 
terissd  under  the  more  general  epithet  of  famous ;  for  it 
may  be  said,  that  the  inustrioun  are  famous  but  that  the 



famous  are  not  alwajf  illuitriouB.  In  the  rajje  for  titles 
the  anctent  lawyers  in  Italy  were  not  satufiecT  by  calling 
kings  Ubutrea ;  they  went  'a  step  higher,  and  would  bare 
emperors  to  be  nqter'iUutlna,  a  narbarous  coinage  of  their 

In  Spain,  they  published  a  book  oCtUUM  for  their  kinp, 
u  well  as  tor  the  Portuguese ;  but  Selden  tells  us,  that 

*  their  Cortedat  and  giving  of  titles  grew  at  lengthi  through 
the  affectation  of  heaping  great  attributes  on  their  princes, 
to  such  an  insufferable  forme,  that  a  remedie  was  provided 
against  it.'  This  remedy  was  an  act  publubed  by  Philip 
in,  which  ordained  that  all  the  Cortematf  as  they  termed 
these  strange  phrases,  thev  had  so  servilely  and  ridiculous- 
ly invented,  snould  be  reduced  to  a  simple  subscription, 

*  To  the  king  our  lord,*  leaving  out  those  fantastical  attri- 
butes which  every  secretary  had  vied  with  his  predecessors 
in  increasing  their  number. 

It  would  nil  three  columns  of  the  present  pages  to  tran- 
■cribe  the  titles  and  attributes  of  the  Grand  Signior,  which 
he  assumes  in  a  letter  to  Henry  IV.  Selden,  in  his  Ti- 
tles of  Honour,  first  part,  p.  140,  has  preserved  it,  This 

*  emperor  of  victorious  emperors,'  as  he  styles  himself,  at 
length  condescended  to  agree  with  the  emperor  of  Ger- 
many, in  1606,  that  in  all  their  letters  and  instruments  they 
diouid  be  only  9ty\td  father  and  mm  :  the  emperor  calling 
the  sultan  his  son  ;  and  the  sultan  the  emperor,  in  regaro, 
of  his  years,.bis/a(Aer. 

Formerly,  says  Houssaie,  the  title  ofkighnea  was  only 
given  to  kinzs ;  but  now  it  has  become  so  common,  that 
all  the  great  nouses  assume  it.  All  the  great,  says  a  mo- 
dem, are  desirous  of  being  confounded  with  princes,  and 
are  ready  to  seize  on  the  privileges  of  royal  dignity.  We 
have  already  come  to  Ai^aiiess.  The  pride  of  our'descen- 
dants,  I  suspect  will  usurp  that  tiftnajetty, 

Ferdinand,  king  of  Arragon,  and  his  queen  IsabelLi,  of 
Castile,  were  only  treated  with  the  title  oihighne»»t  Charles 
was  the  first  who  took  that  of  majetty :  not  in  his  quality 
of  king  of  Spain,  but  as  emperor.  St  Foiz  informs  us, 
that  kings  were  usually  addressed  by  the  titles  of  masi  £{- 
butrioui,  or  your  aeremy^  or  yotir  ^oce ;  but  that  the  cus- 
tom of  givins  them  that  of  majeatyf  was  only  established 
by  Louis  Xl,  a  prince  the  least  majestic  in  all  his  actions, 
his  manners,  and  hb  exterior— a  severe  monarch,  but  no 
ordinary  man,  the  Tiberius  of  France ;  whose  manners 
were  ot  the  most  sordid  nature :— in  public  audiences  he 
dressed  like  the  meanest  of  the  people,  and  affecied  to  sit 
on  an  old  broken  chair,  with  a  filthy  dog  on  his  knees.  In 
an  account  fi>und  of  his  household,  this  ma;ss<>e  prince  has 
a  charge  made  him,  for  two  new  sleeves  sewed  on  one  of 
his  old  doublets. 

Formerly  kings  were  apostrophized  by  the  title  of  your 
grace,  Henry  VIII  was  the  first,  says  Houssaie,  who  as- 
sumed the  title  xiMgkntaa ;  and  at  kngth  majetty.  It  was 
Francis  I,  who  saluted  him  with  his  last  title,  in  their  in- 
terview in  the  year  1680,  though  he  called  himself  only  the 
first  gentleman  in  his  kingdom ! 

So  dutinct  were  once  the  titles  offughneu  and  exeeUencef 
that,  when  Don  Juan,  the  brother  m  Philip  II,  was  per- 
mitted to  take  up  the  latter  title,  and  the  city  of  Granada 
saluted  him  by  tne  title  of  Ai^An«M,  it  occasioned  such  se- 
rious jealousies  at  court,  that  had  he  persisted  in  it,  he 
would  have  been  condemned  for  treason. 

The  usual  title  of  eardinaUt  about  1600,  was  srt^orta 
JZhistnssrma  ,*  the  Duke  of  Lerma,  the  Spanish  minister 
and  cardinal  in  his  old  age,  assumed  the  title  of  ecoe&naa 
rsneren^ttima.  The  church  of  Rome  was  in  its  glory, 
and  to  be  called  reverend  was  then  accounted  a  higher  ho- 
nour than  to  be  styled  the  Uhatrioue,  But  by  use  iUue- 
tricua  grew  familiar,  and  reverend  vulgar,  and  at  last  the 
cardinals  were  distinguished  by  the  title  of  eminenl. 

After  all  these  historical  notices  respecting  these  titles, 
the  reader  will  smile  when  he  is  acquainted  with  the  rea- 
son of  an  honest  curate,  of  Montserrat,  who  refused  to  be- 
stow the  title  cfhighneu  on  the  duke  of  Mantua,  because 
he  fotind  in  his  breviary  these  words,  TVi  so/us  Domtnus,  tu 
wlut  AUimmue ;  from  all  which  he  concluded,  that  none 
but  the  Lord  was  to  be  honoured  with  the  title  offdgknean. 
The  *  Titles  of  Honour*  of  Selden  b  a  very  curious  wl- 
ome,  and  as  the  lesmed  Usher  told  Evelyn,  the  most 
valuable  work  of  this  great  scholar.  The  best  edition  b  a 
folio  of  about  1000  paj;es.  Selden  vindicates  the  right  of 
a  king  of  England  to  the  title  of  emperor, 

*  And  never  yet  was  title  did  not  move : 
And  never  sko  a  mind,  that  title  did  not  lovs.* 

TITI.SS  or  soTxasroas. 

In  countries  where  despotbm  exbta  in  aU  its  forca,  and 
b  gratified  in  all  its  caprices,  either  the  iatoiication  oTpow* 
er  has  occasioned  sovereigns  to  assume  the  most  sotema 
and  the  most  fantastic  titles ;  or  the  royal  duties  and  fooe- 
tions  were  considered  of  so  high  and  extensive  a  naiura^ 
that  the  people  expressed  their  notion  of  the  pure  muoar- 
chical  state,  by  the  most  energetic  descriptions  of  orieotal 

The  chiefii  of  the  Natehes  are  regarded  by  their  peopi* 
as  the  chikiren  of  the  sun,  and  they  bear  the  naasa  of  Chair 

The  titles  which  some  chiefs  assume  are  not  dwayi  ko» 
nourable  in  themselves ;  it  b  sufficient  ifthe  people  rtsspeet 
them.  The  king  of  Quiterva  calls  himself  tiiegnnrf  iMfi  | 
and  for  thb  reason  lions  are  there  so  much  respected,  that 
they  are  not  allowed  to  kill  themi  but  at  certain  royal 

The  king  of  Mooomotapa  b  stirrouuded  by  mumdaaa 
and  poets,  who  adulate  him  by  euch  refined  flatteriM  an 
lord  of  the  tun  and  moon;  j^sol  mngieiam ;  undgrtaiiMUfi 

The  Asbiics  have  bestowed  wluit  to  us  appear  as  rids* 
culous  titles  of  honour  on  their  pnnees.  The  king  of  Ar- 
racan  assumes  the  following  ones  *,  *  Emperor  of  AmfiaO| 
possessor  of  the  white  elephant,  and  the  two  ear-rings,  anl 
in  virtue  of  thb  possession  legitimate  heir  of  Pegu  aad 
Brama ;  lord  of  the  twelve  provinces  ofBeiuial,  aad  tha 
twelve  kings  who  place  their  beads  under  hb  (eet. 

Hb  majesty  of  Ava  b  called  Ood ;  when  he  writes  to  a 
foreign  sovereisn  he  calls  himself  tlie  king  of  kings,  whoa 
all  others  should  obey,  as  he  b  the  cause  of  the  praetrva* 
tion  of  all  animals ;  the  regulator  of  the  seasons,  the  aba»> 
lute  master  of  the  ebb  aad  flow  of  the  sea,  brother  to  tha 
sun,  and  king  of  the  four  and  twenty  umbrellas!  Thasa 
umbrellas  are  always  carried  before  him  as  a  mark  of  hit 

The  titles  of  the  king  of  Achem  are  siagnlar  though  vo* 
luminous.  The  most  striking  ones  are  sovereign  of  tka 
universe,  whose  body  b  as  luminous  as  the  son :  whom 
God  created  to  be  as  accomplished  as  the  noon  at  her  pla* 
nitude;  whose  eye  gUtters  like  the  northera  star;  a  kiag 
as  spiritual  as  a  ball  b  round ;  who  when  he  rises  ihadaa 
all  nb  people ;  from  under  whose  feet  a  aweat  odoar  ii 
wafted,  &c,  Itc. 

Dr  Davy,  in  his  recent  hbtorr  of  Ceykn,  baa  added  to 
this  collection  the  authentic  liJe  of  tho  Kandryaa  sova- 
rcign.  He  too  b  called  Dewo  {Qod.)  In  a  dead  of  gift 
he  prodwms  hb  extraordinary  attributes.  '  The  proiador 
of  religion,  whoee  fame  b  innntte,  aadof  surpaasingaxeeU 
lence,  exceeding  the  moon,  the  unezpanded  jessamine* 
buds,  the  stars,  &c ;  whose  feet  are  as  fiagraat  to  tha 
noses  of  other  kings  as  flowers  to  beet;  our  most  aobla 
patron  and  god  by  custom,  4tc.' 

After  a  long  enumeration  of  the  oountriea  posscussd  by 

the  king  of  Persia,  they  give  him  some jpoetieal 

tions;  the  branch  of  honour ;  the  mirror  ^  virtua  i  oarflls 

rose  ofdeiight, 

aovAL  oirivrriBS. 

There  b  a  curious  disssrtation  in  the  *  Meooires  4a  TA* 
cademie  des  inscriptions  et  Belles  Letlres,  by  tha  Abb4 
Mongault,  *  on  the'divine  honours  which  were  paid  to  tha 

Stvemors  of  provinces  during  the  Roman  republiof  dnnaf 
eir  life-time  these  originally  beaaii  in  gratitude,  aad  at 
length  degenerated  into  flattery.  These  facts  eorioosly  show 
how  far  tne  human  mind  can  advance,  when  led  on  hf  ooa* 
toms  that  operate  invisibly  on  it,  and  olind  usin  oar  absorb 
diiies.  One  of  these  ceremonies  was  exquisitaly  ridioohMt. 
When  they  voted  a  statue  to  a  proconsul,  they  plaead  it 
among  the  statues  of  the  gods  m  the  festival  cslied  LkHw 
temium ;  from  the  ridiculous  cireuontaaees  of  thb  solcaui 
festival.  On  that  day  the  ^ods  were  invited  to  a  repaaC, 
which  was  however  spread  u  various  quarters  of  ihe  city, 
to  satiate  mouths  more  mortal.  The  gods  weia  bowavar 
taken  down  from  their  pedestals,  laid  on  beds  oraamantsd 
in  their  temples ;  pillows  were  placed  under  their  nmiUa 
heads ;  and  while  they  reposed  m  thb  assy  postura  they 
were  served  with  a  magnifieeat  repast.  Wnca  Cmaar  had 
conquered  Rome,  the  servile  senate  put  bua  to  diae  with 
the  gods !  Fatigued  by,  and  ashamed  of  these  hoaonrs.  ha 
desired  the  senate  to  erass  from  hb  tratne  in  tha  cafwolf 

the  title  they  had  given  him  of  a  ,„ 

We  know  that  Uic  first  Roman  amperars  dad  aot 
flatterers,  and  that  the  adnlaUons  they  aomallBea  laviriiad 
ware  amavagaat.    But  paihapa  faw  know  that  dMy  < 



left  offensive  than  the  flatteren  of  the  third  century  under 
the  Pa^an,  and  (rf'the  fourth  under  the  Christian  emperors. 
Thoee  who  are  acquainted  with  the  character  of  the  ago 
of  AugustuluSy  have  only  to  throw  their  eyes  on  the  one, 
■lid  the  other  code,  to  find  an  infinire  number  of  passages 
which  had  not  been  bearable  even  in  that  age.  For  in- 
stance, here  is  a  law  of  Arcadius  and  Honortus,  published 

*  Let  the  officers  of  the  palace  be  warned  to  abstain 
from  frequenting  tumultuous  meetings ;  and  that  those  who, 
ustigated  by  a  aaerileguma  temerity,  dare  to  oppose  the 
authority  or  our  dttn'nity,  shall  be  deprived  of  their  employ- 
ments, and  their  estates  confiscated.'  The  letters  they 
write  are  holy.  When  the  sons  speak  of  their  fathers,  it  is 
*  Their  father  of  divine  memory ;'  or  '  Their  divtne  father,' 
They  call  their  own  laws  oroc^,  and  celestial  oracles.  So 
also  their  subjects  address  them  by  the  titles  o[*Yourper- 
pehfUyt  your  eternity.*  And  it  appears  by  a  law  of  Theo> 
dore  the  Great,  that  the  emperors  at  length  added  this  to 
their  titles.  It  begins,  *  If  luiy  magistrate  after  having  con- 
cluded a  public  work,  put  his  name  rather  than  that  <^ottr 
perpehdty,  let  him  be  judged  guilty  of  high  treason.  All 
this  reminds  one  of  '  the  celestial  empire^  of  the  Chinese. 

Whenever  the  great  Mogul  mads  an  observation,  Ber> 
nier  tells  us  that  some  of  the  first  omrahs  lifted  up  their 
hands,  cryin|[, '  Wonder !  wonder !  wonder !'  And  a  pro- 
verb current  in  his  dominions,  was, '  If  the  king  saith  at 
noonday  it  is  night,  you  are  to  say,  behold  the  moon  and 
the  stars !'  Such  adulation,  however,  could  not  alter  the 
ceueral  condition  and  fortune  of  this  unhappy  being,  who 
became  a  sovereign  without  knowing  what  it  is  to  be  one. 
He  was  brought  out  of  the  seraclio  to  be  placed  on  the 
throne,  and  it  was  he  rather  than  the  spectators,  who 
might  have  truly  used  the  interjection  of  astonishment ! 


FoBTOine  never  appears  in  a  more  extravagant  humour 
than  when  she  reduces  monarchs  to  become  medicants. 
Half  a  century  ago  it  was  not  imagined  that  our  owa  times 
should  have  to  record  many  such  instances.  After  having 
contemplated  kinga  raised  into  divinitie$t  wo  see  (hem  now 
depressed  as  beggare.  Our  own  times,  in  two  opposite 
senses,  may  emphatically  be  distinguished  as  the  age  of 

In  Candideor  the  Optimist,  there  is  an  admirable  stroke 
of  Voltaire's.  Eight  travellers  meet  in  an  obscure  inn,  and 
some  of  them  with  not  sufficient  money  to  pay  for  a  scurvy 
dinner.  In  the  course  of  conversation,  they  are  discovered 
to  be  eight  monarehe  in  Europe,  who  nad  been  deprived  of 
their  crowns ! 

What  added  to  this  exquisite  satire  was,  that  Uiere  were 
eight  living  monarchs  at  that  moment  wanderers  on  the 
earth ;— «  circumstance  which  has  since  occurred. 

Adelaide,  the  widow  of  Lothario  king  of  Italy,  one  of  the 
roost  beautiful  women  in  her  age,  was  Msieged  in  Pavia  by 
Berenger,  who  resolved  to  constrain  her  to  marry  his  son 
after  Pavia  was  taken ;  she  escaped  from  her  prison  with 
her  almoner.  The  archbishop  of  Reggio  had  offered  her 
an  asylum :  to  reach  it,  she  and  her  umoner  travelled  on 
foot  through  the  country  by  night,  concealing  herself  in  the 
day  time  among  the  com,  while  the  idmoner  begged  for 
alms  and  food  through  the  villages. 

The  Emperor  Henry  IT,  after  having  been  deposed  and 
imprisoned  by  his  son,  Henry  Y,  escaped  from  prison  ; 

Sxir,  vagrant,  and  without  aid,  he  entreated  the  bishop  of 
pires  to  grant  him  a  lay  prebend  in  his  church.  *  I  have 
studied,'  said  he,  *  and  have  learned  to  sing,  and  may  there- 
fore be  of  some  service  to  you.'  The  request  was  denied, 
and  he  died  miserably  and  obscurely  at  Liege,  after  having 
dravrn  the  attention  of  Europe  to  his  victories  and  his 

Mary  of  Medtcu,  the  widow  of  Henry  the  Great,  mo- 
dier  of  Louis  XIII,  mother-in-law  of  three  sovereigns,  and 
regent  of  France,  frequently  wanted  the  necessaries  of  life, 
and  died  at  Cologne  in  the  utmost  misery.  The  intrigues 
Richelieu  compelled  her  to  exile  herself,  and  live  an  un- 
happy fugitive.  Her  petition  exists  with  this  supplicatory 
opening : '  Supplie  Marie,  Reine  de  France  ct  ae  Navar- 
re, disant,  que  depuis  le  23  Fevrier,  elle  aurait  €\€  arret^e 
prisonniere  au  chateau  de  Compiegne,  sans  ^tre  ni  accu- 
s6e  ni  soup^onn^e,  &c.'  Lilly,  the  astrologer,  in  his  Life 
and  Dealt!  of  King  Charles  the  First,  presents  us  with  a 
melancholy  picture  of  this  unfortunate  monarch.  He  has 
also  described  the  person  of  the  old  queen  mother  of 


'  In  the  month  of  August,  1641, 1  behold  the  old  qneeo 
mother  of  France  departing  from  London,  in  company  of 
Thomas  earl  of  Arundel.  A  sad  spectacle  of  mortality  it 
was,  and  produced  tears  from  mine  eyes  and  many  otner 
beholders,  to  see  an  aged,  lean,  decripit,  poor  queen  ready 
for  her  grave,  necessitated  to  depart  hence,  having  no  placo 
of  residence  in  this  world  left  her,  but  where  the  courtesy  of 
herhard  fortune  assigned  it.  She  had  been  the  only  stately 
and  magnificent  woman  of  Europe  :  wife  to  the  g^realest 
king  that  ever  Uved  in  France  ;  mother  unto  one  king  and 
unto  two  queens.' 
In  the  year  1595,  died  at  Paris,  Antonio  king  of  Portu- 
al.  His  body  is  interred  at  the  Cordeliers,  and  his  heart 
eposited  at  the  Ave-Maria.  Notliing  on  earth  could  com* 
pel  tliis  prince  to  renounce  his  crown.  He  passed  over  to 
Englano,  and  Elizabeth  assisted  him  with  troops,  but  at 
length  he  died  in  France  in  great  poverty.  This  dethroned 
monarch  was  happy  in  one  uiing,  which  is  indeed  rare :  in 
all  his  miseries  he  bad  a  servant,  who  proved  a  tender  and 
faithful  friend,  and  who  only  desired  to  participate  in  hia 
misfortunes,  sind  to  soften  his  miseries ;  and  for  the  recom* 

fiense  of  his  services  he  only  wished  to  be  buried  at  tho 
eet  of  his  dear  master.  This  hero  in  loyalty,  to  whom 
the  ancient  Romans  would  have  raised  altars,  was  Don 
Diego  Bothei,  one  of  the  greatest  lords  of  the  court  cX 
Portugal,  and  who  drew  his  origin  from  the  kings  of  Bo- 

Hume  supplies  me  with  an  anecdote  of  singular  royal 
distress.  He  informs  us  that  the  queen  of  England,  with 
her  son  Charles,  had  *  a  moderate  pension  assigned  her : 
but  it  was  so  ill  paid,  and  her  credit  ran  so  low,  that  one 
mornine  when  the  Cardinal  de  Retx  wailed  on  her,  she  in- 
formed liim  that  her  daughter,  the  princess  Henrietta,  was 
obliged  to  lie  a-bed  for  '.vant  of  a  fire  to  warm  her.  To 
such  a  condition  was  reduced,  in  tho  midst  of  Paris,  a 
queen  of  England,  and  daughter  of  Henry  IV  of  France ! 
We  find  another  proof  of  her  excessive  poverty.  Salma- 
sius,  after  publishing  his  celebrated  political  book,  in  fa- 
vour of  Charles  II,  tne  Defeneio  Regia^  was  much  blamed 
by  a  friend  for  not  having  sent  a  copy  to  the  widowed 
queen  of  Charles,  who,  he  writes,  though  poor,  would  yet 
have  paid  the  bearer ! 

The  daufihter  of  James  the  First,  who  married  the 
Elector  Palatine,  in  her  attempts  to  get  her  husband 
crowned,  was  reduced  to  the  utmost  beggary,  and  wander- 
ed frequently  in  disguise  as  a  mere  vagrant. 

A  strange  anecdote  is  related  of  Charles  VII,  of  France. 
Our  Henry  V.  had  shrunk  his  kingdom  into  the  town  of 
Bourges.  It  is  said  that  having  told  a  shoemaker  after  he 
had  just  tried  a  pair  of  his  boots,  that  he  had  no  money  to 

f»ay  for  them,  Crispin  had  such  callous  feelings  that  he  re- 
used his  majesty  tho  boots !  '  It  is  for  this  reason,'  saya 
Comines,  *  I  praise  those  princes  who  are  on  good  terms 
with  the  lowest  of  their  people ;  for  they  know  not  at  what 
hour  they  may  want  them.' 

Many  monarchs  of  this  day  have  probably  experienced 
more  than  once  the  truth  of  the  reflection  or  Comines. 

We  may  add  here,  that  in  all  conquered  countries  Iha 
descendants  of  royal  families  have  been  found  among  !!■»• 
dregs  of  the  populace.  An  Irish  prince  has  been  discover- 
ed ill  the  person  of  a  miserable  peasant ;  and  in  Mexico^ 
its  faithful  historian  Clavigero  notices  that  he  has  known  » 
locksmith  who  was  a  descendant  of  its  ancient  kings,  and 
a  tailor  of  one  of  its  noblest  families. 


Barbarous  as  the  feudal  customs  were,  they  were  the 
first  attempts  at  orj^anizing  European  society.  ^  Tho  nor- 
thern nations,  in  their  irruptions  aiid  settlements  in  Europe, 
were  barbarians  indepenoent  of  each  other,  till  a  sense  ot 
public  safety  induced  these  hordes  to  confederate.  But  the 
private  individual  reaped  no  benefit  from  the  public  union ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  seems  to  have  lost  his  wild  liberty  in 
the  subjugation ;  he  in  a  short  time  was  compelled  to  sa& 
fer  from  his  chieftain :  and  the  curionty  of  the  philosopher 
is  excited  by  contemplating  in  the  feudal  customs  a  barbar- 
ous people  carrying  into  their  first  social  institutions  their 
original  ferocity.    The  institution  of  forming  cities  into 
communities  at  length  gradually  diminished  this  military 
and  aristocratic  tyranny ;  and  tJie  freedom  of  cities,  origi- 
nating in  the  pursuits  of  commerce,  shook  off  the  yoke  of 
insolent  lordships.    A  famous  eoclesisstical  writer  of  that 
day,  who  had  imbibed  the  feudal  prejudices,  calls  these 
communities,  which  were  distinguished  by  the  nama  ol 
UbtrUOm  (hence  probably  our  mnnieipal  term  tho  **''    ^'^^  ^ 



as  '  execrable  inventions,  by  which,  contrary  to  law  and 
ju:itice,  slaves  withdrew  themselves  from  that  obedience 
Hvhich  ihey  owed  to  iheir  masters.'  Such  was  the  expiring 
voice  of  aristocratic  tyranny  !  This  subject  lias  been  in- 
geniously discussed  by  RuberLson  in  his  preliminary  vol- 
ume to  Charles;  but  the  fulloumg  facts  constitute  the 
picture  which  the  historian  leaves  to  be  gleaned  by  the 
minuter  inquirer. 

The  feudal  government  introduced  a  species  of  servitude 
which  till  that  time  was  unknown,  and  which  was  called 
the  servitude  of  the  land.  The  bondmen  or  serfs,  and  the 
villains  or  cotmtry  servants,  did  not  reside  in  the  house  of 
the  lord;  but  they  entirely  depended  on  his  caprice  ;  and 
he  void  them,  as  he  did  the  animals,  witti  the  iield  where 
they  lived,  and  which  they  culiivatod. 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  wi'Ji  what  insolence  the  petty 
lords  of  those  times  tyrannized  <iver  ihtir  villains  ;  they  not 
only  oppres!*('d  tlicir  slaves  wiih  unremiiled  labour,  insti- 
gated by  a  vile  cupidity;  but  their  whim  and  caprice  led 
them  to  inflict  miseries  without  even  any  motive  of  in- 

In  Scotland  they  had  a  shameful  institution  of  maiden 
rights ;  and  Malcolm  the  Third  only  aboUsIiod  it,  by  order- 
ing that  they  might  be  redeemed  by  a  quitrent.  The  truth 
of  this  circumstance  Dalrymple  has  attempted,  with  excu- 
sable patriotism,  to  render  doubtful.  There  seems  how- 
ever to  be  no  doubt  of  the  existence  of  this  custom  ;  since 
it  also  spread  through  Germany,  and  various  parts  of  Eu- 
rope ;  and  the  French  barons  extendei  their  domestic 
tyranny  to  three  nights  of  involuntary  prostitution.  Mon- 
tesquieu is  infinitely  French,  when  he  could  turn  this 
shameful  species  of  tyranny  into  a  hon  mot ;  for  he  coMly 
observes  on  this,  *  (fetoit  bien  ccs  trois  nuits  la,  quHlfalloit 
choisir  ;  car  pour  Us  aulres  on  ix'auroit  pan  donne  btnucoup 
iTargent.*  f  he  legislator  in  tlie  wit  forgot  the  feelings  of 
his  heart. 

Others,  to  preserve  this  privilege  when  they  could  not 
enjoy  it  in  all  its  extent,  thrust  their  le;»  booted  mto  the  bed 
of  the  new-married  couple.  Tliis  was  called  the  droit  de 
euiste.     When  the  bride  was  in  bod,  the  esquire  or  lord 

Cerformed  this  ceremony,  and  s!ood  there,  his  ihi^ih  in  the 
ed,  with  a  lance  in  his  hand  :  in  this  ridiculous  attitude  he 
remained  till  he  was  tired ;  and  the  bridegroom  was  not 
suffered  to  enter  the  chamber,  till  his  lord^hip  had  retired. 
Such  indecent  privileges  must  have  originated  in  the  worst 
of  intentions;  and  when  afierwardt-  they  advanced  a  step 
in  more  humane  manners,  the  ceremonial  was  preserved 
from  avaricious  motives.  Others  have  compelled  their 
subjects  to  pass  the  first  ni^jht  at  the  top  ofa  tree,  and  there 
to  consummate  their  marnuge;  to  pass  the  bridal  hours  in 
a  river;  or  to  be  bound  naked  to  a  carl,  and  to  trace  some 
furrowd  as  they  were  dratigcd  :  or  to  leap  with  their  feet 
tied  over  the  horns  of  stags. 

Sometimes  their  caprice  commanded  the  bridegroom  to 
appear  in  drawers  at  their  castle,  and  plunire  into  a  ditch 
of  mud;  and  sometimes  they  were  comprlled  to  beat  the 
waters  of  tlie  ponds  to  hinder  the  frog^'  from  disturbing  tho 
lord  I 

Wardship,  or  the  privilege  of  guardianship  enjoyed  by 
some  lord,  was  one  of  the  barbarous  inventions  ot  the  feu- 
dal ages ;  the  guardian  had  both  the  care  of  the  person,  and 
for  his  own  use  the  revenue  of  the  estates.  This  feudal 
custom  was  so  far  abused  in  England,  that  the  king  sold 
these  lordships  to  strangers;  and  when  the  guardian  had 
fixed  on  a  marriage  for  the,  if  tho  youth  or  maiden 
did  not  agree  to  this,  they  forfeited  the  value  of  the  mar- 
riage ;  that  is,  the  sum  the  guardian  would  have  obtained 
by  the  other  party  had  it  taken  place.  This  cruel  custom 
was  a  source  of  domestic  unhappiness,  particularly  in  love- 
affairs,  and  has  served  as  the  ground-work  of  many  a  pa- 
thetic play  by  our  elder  dramatists*. 

There  was  a  time  when  the  G<  rman  lords  reckoned 
amongst  their  privileges,  that  of  robbing  on  the  high  ways 
of  I  heir  territory  ;  which  ended  in  raiding  up  the  famous 
Hanseatic  Union  to  protect  iheir  commerce  against  rapine 
and  avaricious  exactions  of  toll. 

Geoffrey,  lord  of  Coventry,  compelled  his  wife  to  ride 
naked  on  a  white  pad  through  the  streets  of  the  town  ;  that 
b^  this  mode  he  might  restore  to  the  iniiabitanis  those  pri- 
vileges of  which  his  wantonness  had  deprived  them.  This 
anecdote  some  have  suspected  to  be  fictitious  from  its  ex- 
treme barbarity  ;  but  the  character  of  the  middle-ages  will 
admit  of  any  kmd  of  wanton  barbarism. 

When  the  abbot  of  Figeac  makes  his  entry  into  that 
town,  the  lord  of  Montbrun,  dressed  in  a  harlequin's  coat, 

and  one  of  his  legs  naked,  is  compelled  by  an  ancient  cuatooi 
to  conduct  him  to  the  door  of  his  abbey  leading  hia  horse  bj 
the  bridle. 

The  feudal  barons  frequently  combined  to  share  among 
themselves  those  children  of  their  villains  who  appeared  to 
bo  the  most  healthy  and  serviceable,  or  who  were  remarka* 
ble  for  their  talents ;  and  not  unfrequenily  sold  ihem  ui  their 

The  feudal  servitude  is  not,  even  in  the  present  enlight- 
ened limes,  abolished  in  Poland,  in  Germany,  and  in  Rus- 
sia. In  those  countries  the  bondmen  are  still  entirely  de- 
pendent on  the  caprice  of  iheir  roasters.  The  peasants  of 
Hungary  or  Bohemia  frequently  revolt,  and  attempt  to 
shake  off  the  pressure  of  feudal  tyranny. 

An  anecdote  of  comparatively  recent  date  displays  their 
unfeeling  caprice.  A  lord  or  prince  of  the  northern  coun- 
tries passing  through  one  of  his  villages,  observed  a  small 
assembly  of  peasants  and  their  families  amusing  them- 
selves with  dancing.  He  commands  his  doruekiics  to  part 
the  men  from  the  women,  and  confine  them  in  the  houses. 
He  orders  the  coats  of  the  women  to  be  drawn  up  above 
their  heads,  and  tied  with  their  garters.  The  men  were 
then  liberated,  and  those  who  did  not  recognize  thrir  wives 
in  that  state  received  a  severe  casiigation. 

Absolute  dominion  hardens  the  human  heart ;  and 
nobles  accustomed  to  command  their  bondmen  will  tre^ 
their  domestics  as  slaves,  as  the  capricious  or  inhuman 
West  Indians  are  known  to  do  their  domestic  slave*. 
Those  of  Siberia  punish  theirs  by  a  treii  use  of  the  cudgel 
or  rod.  The  Abb^  Chappe  saw  two  Russian  slaves  un- 
dress a  chambermaid,  who  had  by  some  trifling  neghgence 
given  offence  to  her  mistress;  after  having  uncovered  aa 
far  as  her  waist,  one  placed  her  head  betwixt  his  knees ; 
the  other  h<-ld  her  by  the  feet :  while  both  armed  wiihtvvo 
sharp  rods,  violently  lashed  her  back  till  it  pleased  the  do- 
mestic tyrant  (o  decree  it  was  enough  ! 

Alter  a  perusal  of  these  anecdotes  of  feudal  tyranny,  we 
may  exclaim  with  Goldsmith— 

*  I  fly  from  petty  tyrants— to  the  throne.* 

Mr  Hallani's  recent  view  of  the  State  of  Europe  durw 
ing  the  Middle-ages,*  renders  this  short  article  superfluous 
in  a  philosophical  view. 

JOAN  or  ARC. 

Of  the  Maid  of  Orleans  I  have  somewhere  read  that  a 
bundle  of  faggots  was  substituted  for  her,  when  she  was 
supposed  to  have  been  burnt  by  the  Duke  of  Bedford. 
None  of  our  historians  notice  this  anecdote  :  though  some 
have  mentioned  that  after  her  death  an  iropoelor  arose, 
and  was  even  married  to  a  French  gentleman,  by  whom 
she  had  several  children.  Whether  she  deserved  lo  have 
been  distinguished  by  tho  appellation  of  Tlie  Maid  ({/'  Or»^ 
leans  we  have  great  reason  to  suspect ;  and  some  in  her 
days,  from  her  fondness  for  man's  apparel,  oven  doubled  her 
sex.  We  know  little  of  one  so  celebrated  as  to  have  form- 
ed the  h**roinB  of  enics.  The  following  epitaph  on  her  I 
find  ill  Winstanley^s  *  Historical  Rarities  ;'  and  which, 
possessing  some  humour,  merits  to  be  rescued  from  total 

*  Here  lies  Joan  of  Arc ;  the  which 
Some  count  baint,  and  some  count  witch; 
Some  count  man,  !ind  (something  more  j 
Some  count  mnid,  and  some  a  whore. 
Her  life  'a  in  qucKiion.  wrong;  ur  right; 
Her  death  's  In  doubt,  by  laws  or  might. 
Oh,  Innocence  I  lake  bred  of  It, 
How  thou  loo  near  to  guilt  doth  sit. 
(Meaiiiimo,  France  a  wonder  saw*- 
A  woman  rule,  'gainst  soliijuo  Jaw  1) 
But,  reader,  be  c»'iuciil  to  stay 
Thy  cen^5ure  till  the  judgment  day: 
Then  shall  thou  know,  and  not  bclWei 
Whether  saint,  wiich,  man,  maid,  or  whores* 


Gammg  appears  to  be  an  universal  passiofi.    S^me  har 
attempted  to  deny  its  univcrsalily  :  they  hare  imaginea 
that  it  is  chiefly  prevalent  in  cold  climatrs,  where  such  a 
passion  becomes  most  capable  of  agitating  and  gratifying 
the  torpid  minds  of  their  inhabitants. 

The  fatal  propensity  of  gaminj;  i*  to  be  discovered,  an 
well  amongst  the  inhabitants  of  ihf  frigid  and  torrid  tones, 
as  amongst  those  nf  the  milder  climates.  The  savage  and 
the  civilized,  the  illiterate  and  the  learned,  are  alike  capti*. 
rated  by  the  hope  of  accumulating  wealth  withont  tha  kk* 
hours  of  indu»try. 



Barbryrac  has  written  an  (elaborate  treatise  on  gaining, 
and  we  have  iwo  quarto  volumf  s  by  C.  Moore,  un  suicidoi 

SLintng,  and  duflhng,  which  may  be  put  on  ihe  shelf  by 
e  (tide  of  Barbey  rac.  All  these  works  are  excellent  ser- 
mons, but  a  serniun  to  a  gambler,  a  duellist,  or  a  suicide  I 
A  dice-box,  a  sword  and  pistol,  are  the  only  things  that 
aeem  to  have  any  power  over  these  unhappy  men,  for  ever 
lost  in  a  labyrinth  ofiheir  own  construction. 

I  am  much  pleased  with  the  following  thought.  *  The 
ancients  (says  the  author  of  Amusemens  serieux  et  co 
miques)  assembled  to  see  their  gladiators  kill  one  another ; 
they  classed  this  among  their  games  !  What  barbarity ! 
But  are  we  less  barbarous,  we  who  call  a  game  an  assem- 
bly who  meet  at  the  faro  table  where  the  actors  themselves 
confess  ihcy  only  meet  to  destroy  one  another?'  In  both 
these  cases  the  philosopher  may  perhaps  discover  their 
origin  in  one  cause,  thai  of  the  listless  perishing  with  eTMui 
requiring  an  immediate  impulse  of  the  passions ;  and  very 
inconsiderate  on  the  fatal  means  which  procures  the  de- 
aired  agitation. 

The  roost  ancient  treatise  by  a  modem  on  this  subject, 
according  to  Bar  beyrac,  was  that  of  a  French  physician, 
one  Eckelon,  »ho  published  it  in  1569,  entitled  De  AUa^ 
dve  de  curanda  iudendi  in  pecuniam  cupiditate,  that  is,  *  of 
games  of  chance,  or  the  malady  of  playing  for  money.' 
The  trcatisu  iigeltis  only  worth  noticing  from  the  circum- 
alance  of  the  author  being  himself  one  of  ihe  most  invete- 
raie  gambler^  ;  he  wrote  this  work  to  convince  himself  of 
this  folly.  But  in  spite  of  all  his  solemn  vows,  the  prayers 
of  his  friends,  and  his  own  book  porpeitially  q'lotea  before 
hb  face,  he  was  a  great  gamester  to  his  iast  hour!  The 
■am?  circumstance  happened  to  Sir  John  Denhnm.  They 
had  not  the  {{ood  tense  of  old  Montaigne,  who  gives  us  the 
reason  why  he  gave  over  gaming.  '  I  us^ed  to  like  former- 
ly games  of  chance  with  cards  and  dice  ;  but  of  that  folly  I 
have  long  been  cured  ;  merely  because  I  found  that  what- 
ever good  counienaucc  I  put  on  when  Host  I  did  not  feel 
my  vexation  the  less.'  Goldsmith  fell  a  victim  to  this 
madness.  To  play  any  game  well  requires  serious  study, 
time,  and  experience.  If  a  man  of  letters  plays  deeply, 
hn  will  be  duped  even  by  shallow  fellows,  or  by  professed 

Dice,  and  that  little  pugnacious  animal  the  cockj  are  the 
chief  instruments  employed  by  the  numerous  nations  of  the 
East,  to  asiiato  their  minds  and  ruin  their  fortunes ;  to 
irhich  the  Chinese,  who  are  desperate  gamesters,  add  the 
use  of  cordlt.  When  all  other  property  is  played  away,  the 
Asiatic  gambler  scruples  not  to  stiike  his  wife  or  his  chitdf 
on  the  cast  of  a  die,  or  courage  and  strength  of  a  martial 
bird.  If  still  unsuccessful,  th«  last  venture  he  slakes  is 

In  the  is'nnd  of  Ceylon,  cock-fighting  19  carried  to  a  great 
heijjht.  The  Sumatrans  are  addicted  to  the  use  of  dice. 
A  strong  spirit  of  play  characterizes  a  Malayan.  After 
having  rerigned  every  thing  to  the  goml  fortune  of  the  win- 
ner, he  is  reduced  to  a  horrid  state  of  desperation  ;  he  then 
loosens  a  certain  lock  of  hair,  which  indicates  war  and  de- 
atruciion  to  all  the  raving  gamester  meets.  He  intoxicates 
himself  with  opium;  and  working  himself  up  into  a  fit  of 
phrenzy,  he  bites  and  kills  every  one  who  cornes  in  his 
way.  But  as  soon  as  this  lock  is  seen  Howinj;  it  is  lawful 
to  nre  at  the  person,  and  to  destroy  him  as  fast  as  possible. 
I  think  it  is  this  which  our  sailors  call  *  To  run  a  muck.' 
Thus  Dry  den  writes— 

*  Fr'inMes*^,  and  saiirc-proof,  he  scours  the  streets, 
And  runs  an  In<li»n  muck  at  all  he  meets.* 

Thus  9LA0  Pope— 

*  ^."^ I  re's  it>y  wrrpon,  but  I'm  too  discreet 
To  run  a  muck,  and  tilt  at  all  I  meet.' 

Johnson  could  not  discover  the  derivation  of  the  word 
muck.  To  *  run  a  murk'  is  an  old  phrase  for  attacking 
madly  and  indiscriminately  :  and  has  since  been  ascertain- 
ed to  be  a  Malay  word. 

To  dischar**'  iheir  cnmblinj  debts,  the  Siamese  sell  their 
possessions,  their  famiii-'s,  an»l  at  length  lliemselves.  The 
Chinese  play  ni^f/if  and  d(iif,  nil  they  have  lost  all  they  are 
worth;  and  then  they  u<uillv  pt>  and  han?  ihrniseUcj!. 
&uch  is  the  propensity  of  the  Ja|>ane«e  for  hiyh  play,  thaf 
they  were  compelled  to  make  a  law,  that,  '  ^Vhoever  vrn- 
lurefl  his  money  at  play,  fhall  he  put  to  death.'  In  tho 
uewly-discovered  islands  ofihe  Pacific  Ocean,  they  venture 
even  their  hatchets,  which  they  hold  as  invaluable  arquisi- 
Jow,  00  running-matches  :•— '  We  saw  a  roan,'  says  Cook, 

*  beating  his  breast  and  tearing  his  hair  in  the  violence  <f 
rage,  for  having  lost  three  hatchets  at  one  of  these  racef, 
and  ivhich  he  had  purchased  with  nearly  half  his  property. 

The  ancient  nations  were  not  less  addicted  to  gaming ; 
Persians,  Grecians,  and  Romans ;  the  Goths,  the  Germani, 
&c.  To  notice  the  modern  ones  were  a  melancholy  task: 
there  is  hardly  a  family  in  Europe  which  cannot  record, 
from  their  own  domestic  annals,  the  dreadful  prevalence  of 
this  passion. 

Gamester  and  cheater  were  synonymous  terms  in  tho  time 
of  Shakspeare  and  Jonson :  they  have  hardly  lost  much  of 
their  double  signification  in  the  present  day. 

The  following  is  a  curious  picture  of  a  gambling-houte, 
from  a  contemporary  account  and  appears  to  be  an  establieb* 
roent  more  systematic  than  the  '  hells'  of  the  present  day. 

'  A  list  of  the  officers  established  in  the  most  notorioufl 
gamino-houses,'  from  the  Daily 'Journal,  Jan.  9th,  1731. 

1st.  A  Commissioner,  always  a  proprietor,  who  looks  in 
of  a  night ;  and  the  week's  account  is  audited  by  him  and 
two  other  proprietors. 

2d.  A  Director,  who  superintends  the  room. 

3d.  An  Operator,  who  deals  the  cards  at  a  ehealiog 
game,  called  Faro. 

4ih.  Two  Crowpees,  who  watch  the  cards,  and  gather 
the  money  for  the  bank. 

6th.  Two  Puffs,  %vho  have  money  given  them  to  decoy 
others  to  play. 

6ih.  A  Clerk,  who  is  a  check  upon  the  Puffs,  to  see  that 
they  sink  none  of  the  monev  given  them  to  play  with. 

7ih.  A  Squib  is  a  pufTof^lower  rank,  who  serves  at  halt 
pay  salary  w  hile  he  is  learning  to  deal. 

Stii.  A  Flasher,  to  swear  Itow  often  the  bank  has  beef) 

9ih.  A  Dunner,  who  goes  about  to  recover  money  lof« 
at  play. 
10;h.  A  Waiter,  to  fill  out  wine,  snuff  candles,  and  tU 

tend  the  gaming-room. 

llih.  An  Attorney,  a  Newgale  solicitor. 

12ih.  A  Captain,  who  is  to  fight  any  gentleman  who  ii 
peevish  for  losing  his  money. 

ISih.  An  Ush»r,  who  lights  gentlemen  up  and  down 
stairs,  and  gives  the  word  to  the  porter. 

14th.  A  Porter,  who  is  generally  a  soldier  of  the  Foot 

15th.  An  Orderly  Man,  who  walks  up  and  down  the 
outside  of  the  door,  to  give  notice  to  the  porter,  and  alarm 
the  house  nt  the  approach  of  the  constable. 

IGth.  A  Runner,  who  is  toget  intelligence  of  the  justice's 

ITih.  Liiik-hoys,  Coachmen,  Chairmen,  or  others  who 
brin?  intt-lii'M-nce  of  the  jii>lices'  meetings,  or  of  tho  con- 
stables beui;»  out,  nt  hall  a-i;uinea  reward. 

IStl).  Comrrif  n-baii,  Atlii  avit  men,  Ruffians,  Bravoet| 
As«5a5!Mii«,  rum  rnullis  aJiis. 

The  ♦  Mioioirs  of  the  most  famous  Gamesters  from  the 
reis/n  of  C'har.ts  II  to  Qnctn  Anne,  by  T.  Lucas,  Esq. 
1714,*  apf>ears  to  be  a  bookseller's  job  ;  but  probably  a  few 
traditional  stones  are  preserved. 


The  Arabic  Chronicle  of  Jerusalem  is  only  valombfe 
from  the  time  of  IVIaliomct.  For  such  is  the  stupid  super* 
stition  of  the  Arab*,  that  they  pude  themselves  on  being 
ignorant  of  \\hatevcr  has  passed  before  the  mission  of  their 
Prophet.  The  most  curious  information  it  contains  is  con* 
cerninj  the  crusades  :  according  to  Longerue,  who  atid 
he  had  translated  several  porliuns  of  it.  \\hoevcr  would  be 
versed  in  the  lji>tory  of  the  rruKades  should  attend  to  ihte 
chronicle,  which  appears  to  have  been  written  with  impar* 
tialiiy.  It  renders  justice  to  the  christian  heroes,  andptr- 
tiowlarlv  dwells  on  the  gallant  actions  of  the  Count  do 
Saint  Gilles. 

Our  historians  chiefly  write  concerning  Godfrey  dt 
Boxnllon;  only  the  learned  know  that  the  Count  de  Saint 
Gillcs  aru-(\  iliire  so  important  a  character.  The  stories 
of  the  Saracfus  are  jus^t  the  reverse:  they  speak  little 
ronrcrning  Godfrey,  and  eminently  distinguish  Saint 
Gil  es. 

Tisfo  has  pivrn  into  the  more  vulgar  nccounls,  by  mak* 
in:!  the  ftirmer  so  eminent,  at  the  cost  of  the  other  tiernes, 
in  his  Jerusalem  Delivered.  Thus  Virgil  transformed  b^ 
hisma;jical  power  the  chaste  Dido  into  a  lover ;  and  Homer 
the  merefrici"!!'?  Penelope  into  a  moaning  matron.  It  it 
I  not  requisite  fur  fx^ets  to  be  historians,  but  historians  should 
,  not  be  £o  fri  qucntly  poets.    The  same  charge,  I  have 



been  told,  must  be  made  to  the  Grecian  historians.  The 
Persians  are  viewed  to  great  disadvantage  in  Grecian  hitn 
lory.  It  would  form  a  curious  inquiry,  and  the  result  might 
bie  unexpected  to  some,  were  the  Oriental  student  to  com- 
ment on  the  Grecian  historians.  The  Grecians  were  not 
the  demi-f  ods  they  paint  themselves  to  have  been,  nor 
those  they  attacked  the  contemptible  multitudes  they  de- 
scribe. These  boasted  Tictories  might  be  diminished. 
The  same  observation  attaches  to  Cigar's  account  of  his 
British  expedition.  He  never  records  the  defeats  he  fn^ 
quently  experienced.  The  national  prejudices  of  the  Ro- 
man hifitonans  have  undoubtedly  occasioned  us  to  have  a 
very  erroneuus  conception  of  the  Carthagenians,  whose 
discoveries  in  navigation  and  commercial  enterprises  were 
the  most  considerable  among  the  ancients.  We  must  in- 
deed think  highly  of  that  people,  whose  works  on  agricul- 
ture which  they  had  raised  into  a  science,  the  senate  of 
Rome  orderd  to  be  translated  into  Latin.  Thev  must 
indeed  have  been  a  wise  and  grave  people.  Tet  they  are 
stigmatized  by  the  Romans  for  faction,  cruelty  and  cowar- 
dice ;  and  their  bad  faith  has  come  down  to  us  in  a  pro- 
verb ;  but  Livy  was  a  Roman  '.  and  there  is  a  patriotic 
malignity  ! 


If  we  except  the  belief  of  a  future  remuneration  beyond 
this  life  for  suffering  virtue,  and  retribution  for  successful 
crimes,  there  is  no  system  so  simple,  and  so  little  repugnant 
to  our  understanding,  as  that  of  the  metempsychosis.  The 
pains  and  the  pleasures  of  this  life  are  by  this  system  con- 
sidered as  the  recompense  or  the  punishment  of  our  actions 
in  an  anterior  state :  so  that,  says  St  Foix  we  cease  to 
wonder  that  among  men  and  animals,  some  enjoy  an  easy 
and  agreeable  life,  while  others  seem  bom  only  to  suffer  all 
kinds  of  miseries  :  preposterous  as  (his  system  may  appear, 
it  has  not  wanted  for  advocates  in  the  present  age,  which 
indeed  has  revived  every  kind  of  fanciful  theories.  M er- 
cier,  in  L!an  deux  miUe  quatrt  cenU  quarante,  seriously 
maintains  the  present  one. 

If  we  seek  for  the  origin  of  the  opinion  of  the  metempsy- 
chosis, or  the  transmigration  of  souls  into  other  bodies,  we 
mu9t  plunite  into  the  remotest  antiquity ;  and  even  then  we 
shall  find  it  impossible  to  fix  the  epoch  of  its  first  author. 
The  noti(m  was  long  extant  in  Greece  before  the  time  of 
Pjrthagoras.  Herodotus  assures  us  that  tlie  Egyptian 
priests  taujjht  it;  but  he  does  not  inform  us  of  ihe  time  it 
pesfan  to  spread.  It  probably  followed  the  opinion  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul.  As  soon  as  the  first  philosophers 
had  established  this  dogma,  they  thought  they  could  not 
maintain  thi^  immortality  without  a  transmicration  of  souls. 
The  opinion  of  the  metempsychosis  spread  in  almost  every 
region  of  the  earth  ;  and  it  continues,  even  to  the  present 
time  in  all  its  force  among  those  nations  who  have  not  yet 
embraced  Christianity.  The  people  of  Arracan,  Peru, 
Siam,  Gamboya,  Tonquin,  Cochin^hin^,  Japan,  Java, 
and  Ceylon  still  entertain  that  fancy,  which  also  forms  the 
chief  article  of  the  Chinese  religion.  The  Druids  believed 
in  transmigration.  The  bardic  triads  of  the  Welsh  are  full 
of  this  belief;  and  a  WeUh  antiquary  insists  that  by  an 
emirration  which  formerly  took  place,  it  was  conveyed  to 
the  Bramins  of  India  from  Wales !  The  Welsh  bards  tell 
us  that  the  souls  of  men  transmigrate  into  the  bodies  of  those 
animals  whose  habits  and  characters  the^r  most  resemble, 
till  after  a  circuit  of  such  chastising  miseries,  they  are  ren- 
dered more  pure  for  the  celestial  presence ;  for  man  may  be 
converted  into  a  pig  or  a  wolf,  till  at  length  he  assumes  the 
inofTensiveness  of  the  dove. 

My  learned  friend  Sharon  Turner,  the  accurate  and  phi- 
loaopnical  historian  of  our  Saxon  ancestors,  has  explained, 
in  his  *  Vindication  of  the  ancient  British  Poems,'  p.  SSI, 
the  Welsh  system  of  Uie  metempsychosis.  Their  bards 
mention  three  circles  of  existence.  '  The  circle  of  the  al!- 
inclosine  circle,  holds  nothing  alive  or  dead  but  God.  The 
second  circle,  that  of  felicity,  is  that  which  men  are  to  per- 
yade  after  they  have  passed  throueh  their  terrestrisi  changes. 
The  circle  of  evil  is  that  in  which  human  nature  passes 
throosh  those  rarying  staires  of  existence  which  it  mustun- 
denro  before  it  is  qualified  to  inhabit  the  circle  of  felicity. 

The  progression  of  man  through  the  circle  of  evil  is  mark- 
ed by  uree  infelicities ;  necessity,  oblivion,  and  deaths. 
The  deaths  which  follow  our  changes,  are  so  many  escapes 
from  their  power.  Man  is  a  free  agent,  and  has  the  liberty 
of  choosinK ;  his  sufl^rings  and  changes  cannot  be  foreseen. 
By  hb  miteoiidiict  he  may  happen  to  fall  retrngade  into  the 
wmtH  aiata  fraai  wfaksh  ne  had  emerged.    If  his  conduct 

in  any  one  state,  instead  of  impiovtng  his  being,  had  iiiad« 
it  worse,  he  fell  back  into  a  worse  condition  to  commeoca 
again  his  purifying  revolutions.  Humanity  was  the  limit  of 
the  degraded  transmigrations.  All  the  changes  above  hu- 
manity produced  felicity.  Humanity  is  the  scene  r£  the 
contest,  and  after  man  has  traversed  every  state  cf  aninaa* 
ted  existence,  and  csn  remember  all  that  he  has  panned 
through,  that  consummation  follows  which  he  attains  in  ifa« 
circle  of  felicity.  1 1  is  on  t his  system  of  transmigraiioti  iliac 
Taliessin  the  Welsh  bard,  who  wrote  in  the  sixth  centctfy, 
gives  a  recital  of  his  pretended  transmigration.  He  tejls 
bow  he  had  been  a  serpent,  a  wild  ass,  a  buck,  or  a  (U'ane, 
&c  ;  and  this  kind  of  reminiscence  of  bis  former  staie.  this 
recovery  of  memory,  was  a  proof  cf  the  mortal's  advances 
to  the  happier  circle.  For  to  forget  what  we  have  be«ra, 
was  one  of  the  curses  of  the  circle  of  evil.  Taliessin  there- 
fore, adds  Mr  Turner,  as  profusely  boasts  of  his  recovered 
reminiscence  as  any  modem  sectary  can  do  of  his  stale  of 
grace  and  election.' 

In  all  these  wild  reveries  there  seems  to  be  a  moral  Able 
in  the  notion,  that  the  clearer  a  man  recollects  what  a 
he  has  been,  it  is  certain  proc^  that  he  is  in  an 
state ! 

According  to  the  authentic  Clavigero,  in  his  history  of 
Mexico,  we  find  the  Pythagorean  transmigration  carried  on 
in  the  west,  and  not  less  fancifully  than  in  the  countries  of 
the  east.  The  people  of  Tlascala  believe  that  the  soni*  of 
persons  of  rank  went  after  their  death  to  inhabit  the  bodice 
of  beaaitiful  and  noeti  tinging  birds,  and  those  of  the  neUor 
quadrupeds;  while  the  souls  r^ inferior  persons  were  sup- 
posed to  pass  into  toeoae/s,  6rei2et,  and  such  other  eieaMcr 

There  is  something  not  a  little  ludicrous  in  the  descrip- 
tion Plutarch  gives  at  the  close  of  his  treatise  on  *  the  delay 
of  heavenly  justice.*  Thespesius  saw  at  lenctk  the  souls 
of  those  who  were  condemned  to  return  to  life,  and  whom 
they  violently  forced  to  take  the  form  of  all  kinds  of  animals. 
The  labourers  charged  with  this  transformation,  forge  with 
their  instruments  certain  parts ;  others,  a  new  form ;  and 
made  some  totally  disappear;  that  these  souls  might  be  ren- 
dered proper  for  another  kind  of  life  and  other  habits. 
Among  these  he  perceived  the  soul  of  Nero,  which  had  al- 
ready suffered  long  torments,  and  which  stuck  to  the  body 
by  nails  red  from  the  fire.  The  workmen  seized  on  hiro  to 
roako  a  viper  of,  under  which  form  he  was  now  to  live,  ifler 
havine  devoured  the  breast  that  had  carried  him.— But  in 
this  Plutarch  only  copies  the  fine  reveries  of  Plato. 


The  etiquette  or  the  rules  to  be  obsenred  in  the  royal 
palaces  is  necessary,  writes  Baron  Bielfield,  for  keepmg 
order  at  court.  In  Spain  it  was  carried  to  such  Iep«|ths  as 
to  make  martyrs  of  their  kings.  Here  is  an  instance,  at 
which,  in  spite  of  the  fatal  consequences  it  produced,  one 
cannot  refrain  from  smiling. 

Philip  the  Third  was  gravely  seated  by  the  fire-side ; 
the  firennaker  of  the  court  had  Icindled  so  great  a  quantity 
of  wood,  that  the  monarch  was  nearly  suffocated  with  heat, 
snd  his  ^rsmieur  would  not  suffer  him  to  rise  from  the 
chair ;  the  domestics  could  not  ores»me  to  enter  the  apart- 
ment, because  it  was  against  tne  etiquette.  At  lenffih  the 
Marquis  de  Pota  appeared,  and  the  king  ordered  him  to 
damp  the  fires :  but  he  excused  himself;  alleging  that  he 
was  forbidden  by  the  eHqueUe  to  perform  such  a  function, 
for  which  the  duke  d'Usscda  ought  to  be  called  upon,  as  it 
was  his  business.  The  dtike  was  gone  out ;  the  Jire  burnt 
fiercer;  and  the  fang  endured  it,  rather  than  derogate  from 
liis  dignity.  But  his  blood  was  healed  to  such  a  degree, 
that  an  erysipelas  of  the  head  appeared  the  next  dav, 
which  succeeded  by  a  violent  fever,  carried  him  off  in  IGSI, 
in  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  his  age. 
The  pa'ace  was  once  on  fire ;  a  soldier,  who  knew  the  king's 
sister  was  in  her  apartment,  and  must  inevitably  hare  been 
consumed  in  a  few  moments  hv  the  flames,  at'  the  risk  of 
his  life  rushed  in.  and  broughl  lier  highness  safe  out  in  bis 
arms :  but  the  Spanish  etiquette  was  here  wofully  Iwokso 
into  !  The  loyal  soldier  was  brought  to  trial,  and  as  it  was 
impossible  to  deny  that  he  had  entered  her  apartment,  the 
judges  condemned  him  to  die !  The  Spanish  Princes,  how- 
ever condescended  in  consideration  of  the  circumstance, 
Xonacrdan  the  soldier,  and  verv  benevolently  saved  his  life! 

When  Isabella,  mother  of  Philip  II,  was  ready  to  be  de- 
bvered  of  him,  she  commsoded  that  all  the  lights  i^ouldbs 
extinguished  *  that  if  the  violence  of  her  pain  shonkl  oeesp 




tioo  her  face  to  chance  colour,  no  one  might  pereeiTe  it. 
And  when  the  midwite  said,  *  Madam,  cry  out,  that  will 

Sive  you  eave,'  she  anawered  in  food  Spanuhj  *  How 
are  you  give  me  such  advice  7    I  would  rather  die  than 
cry  out.' 

*  Spain  lives  us  pride— which  Spain  to  all  the  earth 
May  lai^ely  give,  nor  fear  herseir  a  dearth  !> 


Philip  the  Third  was  a  weals  bigot,  who  suffered  himself 
to  be  governed  by  his  ministera.  A  patriot  wished  to 
open  his  eyes,  but  he  could  not  pierce  through  tlie  crowds  of 
his  flaiterers ;  besides,  that  the  voice  of  patriotism  heard 
in  a  corrupt  court  would  have  become  a  crime  never  par- 
doned. He  found,  however,  an  ingenious  manner  of  con- 
veving  to  him  his  censure.  He  caused  to  be  laid  on  his 
table  line  day,  a  letter  sealed,  which  bore  this  address 
*  To  the  Kini;  of  Spain,  Philip  the  Third,  at  present  in 
the  service  of  the  Duke  of  Lerma.* 

In  a  similar  manner,  D<hi  Carlos,  son  to  Philip  the  Se- 
cond, made  a  book  with  empty  pages,  to  contain  the  voy- 
ages of  his  father,  which  bore  this  title-—'  The  Great  and 
Admirable  Voyages  of  the  King  Mr  Philip.*  All  these 
voyages  consisted  of  going  to  the  Escurial  from  Madrid, 
and  returning  to  Madrid  from  the  Escurial.  Jests  of  this 
kind,  at  length,  cost  him  his  life. 


The  terrific  honours  which  these  ferocious  nations  paid 
to  their  deceased  monarchs  are  recorded  in  history,  by  the 
mterment  of  Atiila,  king  of  the  Huns ;  and  Alaric,  king 
of  the  Goths.  | 

Atiila  died  in  453,  and  was  buried  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  i 
champaign  in  a  coffin  which  was  inclosed  in  one  of  gold, 
another  of  silver,  and  a  third  of  iron.  With  the  body 
were  interred  all  the  spoils  of  the  enemy,  harnesses  em- 
broidered with  ffold  and  studded  with  jewels ;  rich  silks, 
and  whatever  they  had  taken  most  precious  in  the  palaces 
of  the  kings  they  had  pillaged :  and  that  the  place  of  his 
interment  might  for  ever  remain  concealed,  the  Huns  de- 
prived of  life  all  who  assisted  at  his  burial ! 

The  Goths  had  done  nearly  the  same  for  Alaric  in  410, 
at  Knsenca,  a  town  in  Calabria.  They  turned  aside  the 
river  Yasento ;  and  having  formed  a  grave  in  the  midst 
of  its  bed  where  its  course  was  most  rapid,  they  interred 
this  king  with  prodigious  accumulation  of  riches.  After 
having  caused  the  river  to  reassume  its  usual  course,  they 
murdered  without  exception,  all  those  who  had  been  con- 
cerned in  digging  this  singular  grave. 

or  ncARs  OF  bbat. 

The  vicar  of  Braynin  Berkshire  was  a  ptpist  under  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  a  protestant  under  Edward 
the  Sixth ;  he  was  a  papist  again  under  Mary,  and  once 
more  became  a  protestant  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  When 
this  scandal  to  the  gown  was  reproached  for  his  versatility 
of  religious  creeds,  and  taxed  for  being  a  turncoat  and  an 
unnonstant  changelin?,  as  Fuller  expresses  it,  he  replied, 
*  Not  so  neither !  for  if  I  changed  ray  religion,  I  am  sure 
I  kept  true  to  my  principle ;  which  is,  to  live  and  die  the 
vicar  of  Bray !'  " 

This  vivacious  and  reverend  hero  has  given  birth  to  a 
proverb  peculiar  to  his  county,  *  The  vicar  of  Bray  will 
be  vicar  of  Bray  still.'  But  how  hss  it  happened  that  this 
vieor  should  be  so  notorious,  and  one  in  much  higher  rank, 
art  in  e  the  fame  part  should  have  escaped  notice  ?  Dr 
Kiiehen,  bishnp  of  Llandaff,  from  an  idle  abbot  under 
Henry  VITI,  was  made  a  busy  bishop;  protestant  under 
Edward,  he  relumed  to  his  old  master  under  Mary  ;  and 
at  last  took  the  oath  of  supremacy  under  Elizabeth,  and 
finished  as  a  parliament  protestant.  A  nun  spread  the 
odium  of  his  name ;  for  they  said  that  tie  had  always 
loved  the  kUchm  better  than  the  ehureh  ! 


It  may  be  recorded  as  a  species  of  Puritanic  savageness 
and  Gothic  barbarism,  that  no  later  than  in  the  year  1757, 
a  man  of  genius  was  persecuted  because  he  had  written  a 
tragedy  which  tended  by  no  means  to  hurt  the  morals ; 
but  on  the  contrary,  by  awakening  the  piety  of  domestic 
•ffrctions  with  the  nobler  passions,  would  rather  elevate 
•nd  purify  the  mind. 

When  Home,  the  author  of  the  tragedy  of  Doo^as, 

Irad  It  performed  at  Edinburg,  and  because  some  of  tho 

hii  aoqaaintance,  attaoded  the  represootaiion, 

the  clergy,  with  the  nionastie  spirit  of  the  darkest  agei, 
published  the  present  paper,  which  I  shall  abridge  for  tho 
contemplation  of  the  reader,  who  may  wonder  to  see  such 
a  composition  written  m  the  eighteenth  century. 

*  On  Wednesday,  February  the  8d,  1757,  the  Presbytery 
of  Glasgow  came  to  the  following  resolution.  They  having 
seen  a  printed  paper,  intituled, 'An  admcmitiun  and  ez- 
hortation  of  the  reverend  Presbytery  of  Edinburg;'  whidi, 
among  other  eviU  prevailing,  observing  the  following  me- 
Umdwt^  but  fielonous  facts :  that  one  who  is  a  minister  of 
the  church  of  Scotland,  did  himadf  write  and  compose  a 
itagt-playi  intituled,  *'  The  tragedy  of  Douglas,"  and  cot 
it  to  Ae  acted  at  the  theatre  of  Edinburg ;  and  that  no 
with  aeveral  other  ministers  cf  the  church  were  present ; 
and  aomt  of  them  oJUner  than  once,  at  the  acting  of  the 
said  play  before  a  numerous  audience.  The  presbytery 
being  ditpfy  q^eded  with  this  new  and  strange  appear- 
ance, do  publish  these  sentiments,  &c.  Seninnents  with 
which  I  will  not  disgust  the  reader ;  but  which  they  ap- 
pear not  yet  to  have  purified  and  corrected,  as  they  hava 
shown  in  the  case  of  Logan  and  other  Scotchmen,  who 
have  committed  the  crying  sin  of  composing  dramas ! 


Mr.  Morin,  in  the  memoirs  of  the  French  academy,  has 
formed  a  little  history  of  Poverty,  which  I  abridge. 

The  writers  on  the  genealogies  of  the  eods  have  not 
noticed  this  deity's  though  admitted  as  such  in  the  pagan 
heaven,  while  she  has  had  temples  and  altars  on  earth. 
The  allegorical  Plato  has  pleasingly  narrated,  that  at  the 
feast  which  Jupiter  gave  on  the  birth  of  Venus,  Poverty 
modestly  stood  at  the  gate  of  the  palace  to  gather  tha 
fragments  of  the  celestial  banquet ;  when  she  observed  tho 
god  of  riches,  inebriated  with  nectar,  roll  out  of  the  hea- 
venly residence,  and  passing  into  tho  Olympian  gardens, 
threw  himself  on  a  vernal  bank.  She  seized  this  oppor- 
tunity to  become  familiar  with  the  god.  The  frolicsome 
deity  honoured  her  with  his  caresses ;  and  from  this  amour 
sprung  the  god  of  love  who  resembles  his  father  in  jollity 
and  mirth,  and  his  mother  in  his  nudity.  The  allegory  m 
ingenious.  The  union  of  poverty  with  riches,  must  inevi* 
tably  produce  the  must  delightful  of  pleasures. 

The  golden  age,  howevrr,  had  out  the  duration  of  a 
flower ;  when  it  finished,  poverty  began  to  appear.  Tho 
ancestors  of  the  human  race,  if  they  did  not  meet  her 
face  to  face,  knew  her  in  a  partial  degree  ;  the  vagrant 
Cain  encountered  her.  She  was  firmly  established  in  tho 
patriarchal  age.  We  hear  of  mercnants  who  publicly 
practised  the  commerce  of  vending  slaves,  which  indicates 
the  utmost  degree  of  poverty.  She  is  distinctly  marked 
by  Job :  this  holy  man  protests  that  he  had  nothing  to  re- 
proach himself  with  respecting  the  poor,  for  he  had  assisted 
them  in  their  necessities. 

In  the  scriptures,  legislators,  paid  great  attention  to  their 
relief.  Moses,  by  his  wise  precautions,  endeavoured  to 
soften  the  rigours  of  this  unhappy  state.  The  division  cf 
lands,  by  tribes  and  families :  tne  septennial  jubilees  ;  tho 
regulation  to  bestow  at  the  harvest  time  a  certain  portion 
of  all  the  fruits  of  the  earth  for  those  families  who  wero 
in  want ;  and  the  obligation  of  his  moral  law  to  love  one's 
neighbour  as  one's'  self;  were  so  many  mounds  erected 
against  the  inundations  of  poverty.  The  Jews  under  their 
Theocracy  had  few  or  no  mendicants.  Their  kings  were 
unjust ;  and  rapaciously  seizing  on  inheritances  which  were 
not  their  right,  increased  the  numbers  of  the  poor.  From 
the  reign  of  David  there  were  oppressive  governors,  who 
devoured  the  people  as  their  bread.  It  was  still  worse 
under  the  foreign  powers  of  Babylon,  of  Persia,  and  the 
Roman  emperors.  Such  were  the  extortions  of  their  pub- 
licans, and  the  avarice  of  their  governors,  that  the  number 
of  mendicants  dreadfully  augmented ;  and  it  was  probably 
for  that  reason  that  the  opulent  families  consecrated  a 
tenth  part  of  their  property  for  their  succour,  as  appears 
in  the  time  of  the  evangelists.  Tn  the  preceding  aseR  no 
more  was  given,  as  their  casuists  assure  us,  than  the  for- 
tieth or  thirtieth  part ;  a  custom  which  this  unfortunste  na- 
tion still  practise.  If  there  are  no  poor  of  their  nation 
where  they  reside,  they  send  it  to  the  most  diRtant  parts. 
The  Jewish  merchants  make  this  charity  a  regular  charge 
in  their  transactions  with  each  other;  and  at  the  ciose  of 
the  year  render  an  account  to  the  poor  of  their  nation 

Bv  the  example  of  Moses,  the  ancient  legislstors  were 
taught  to  pay  a  similar  attention  to  the  poor.  Like  him 
they  published  laws  respecting  the  division  of  1and« :  and 
many  ordinances  were  made  for  the  benefit  of  those  whcan 




fires,  inuadatioiis,  wars,  or  bad  harvests  bail  reduced  to  ' 
waou  Convinced  thai  idUneas  more  inevitably  intrudnced 
poverty  than  any  oiher  cause,  it  was  iigorootfly  punished  ; 
the  E$ry|itians  made  it  criminal,  and  no  vagabonds  or 
m4*iMlicants  were  suffered  under  any  pretence  whatever.  ^ 
Those  who  were  convicted  of  slothrulness,  and  still  re- 
fused to  labour  for  the  public  when  labour  was  offered  to 
them,  were  punished  with  death.  The  Egyptian  taskroa»- 
ters  observed  thai  the  Israelites  were  an  idle  nation,  and 
oblijEed  them  to  furnish  bricks  for  the  erection  of  those  fa- 
mous pyramids,  which  are  probably  the  works  of  men  who 
otherwise  had  remained  vajrabonds  and  mendicants. 

The  same  spirit  mspired  Greece.  Lycurgus  wouM  not 
have  in  his  republic  either  jooor  or  rieft :  they  lived  and  la- 
boured in  common.  As  in  ihe  present  times,  every  family 
has  its  stores  and  cellars,  so  they  had  public  ones,  and  dis- 
tributed  the  provisions  aceordm«  to  the  ages  and  constitu- 
tions of  the  people.  If  ihe  same  regulation  was  not  pre- 
cisely observed  by  the  Athenians,  the  Corinthians  and  the 
other  people  of  Greece,  the  same  maxim  existed  in  full 
force  against  idieness. 

According  to  the  laws  of  Draco,  Solon,  Sec,  a  convictioa 
of  wilful  poverty  was  punished  with  the  loss  of  life.  Plato, 
more  seotiein  his  manners,  would  have  ihem  only  banish- 
ed. He  calls  them  enemies  of  the  state;  and  pronouiH:es 
as  a  maxim,  that  where  there  are  great  numbers  of  men- 
dicants, fatal  revolutions  will  happen  ;  for  as  these  people 
have  nothing  to  lose,  they  plan  opportunities  to  disturb  the 
public  rep'xe. 

The  ancient  Roman:*,  whose  universal  object  was  the 

Cublic  prosperity,  were  not  indebted  to  Greece  on  this 
ead.  One  of  the  principal  occupations  of  their  censors 
was  to  keep  watch  on  the  vagabonds.  Those  who  were 
condemned  is  incorrigible  sluooanls  were  sent  to  the 
nines,  or  made  to  labour  on  the  public  edifices.  The  Ro- 
mans of  those  tifne«,  unlike  the  present  race,  did  not  con- 
sider the  far  niente  as  an  occnpati-m  :  the^  were  ci»n- 
vineed  that  their  liberalities  werr  ill-placed  in  bestowing 
them  on  such  men.  The  liiile  repub'ic:*  of  the  hees  and  the 
ants  were  often  hfld  out  as  an  example  ;  and  the  last,  par- 
ticularly where  Virgil  savn,  that  they  have  elected  over- 

Constaotioe.    This  prince  pobUshed  edicta  in  fai 
those  chrisiians  who  had  been  coodenmed  in  the 
ing  reigns  to  siayery,  t<»  the  mines,  the  galleys,  or  prisans. 
The  church  felt  an  inundai  ion  of  prodigious  crowds  of  il 

seers  who  correct  the  sluggards. 

*  Pars  a^miiia  cogant, 

Casti^anique  moraa.' 


And  if  we  may  tnnt  the  narratives  of  our  travellers,  the 
beavert  pursue  this  regulation  more  rigorously  and  exactly 
than  even  these  industrious  societies.  But  their  risnur, 
although  but  animaU,  is  not  <o  barbarous  as  that  of  iho 
ancient  Germans ;  who  Taciiui  informs  u^.  plunged  the 
idlers  an-l  va»ab'>ndsin  the  thickest  mireof  thrir  mar^ihes, 
and  left  them  to  perish  by  a  kind  of  death  which  resembled 
their  inactive  disposition*. 

Yet.  after  all.  it  was  not  inhumanity  that  prompted  the 
ancients  thus  severely  to  chasti-se  idleness  :  ihev  were  in- 
ducH  to  it  by  a  strict  equity  ;  and  it  would  be  doin?  them 
injustice  to  sunpoie.  that  it  was  thus  they  treated  those 
uufartunaU  poor,  who^e  indigence  was  occasioned  bv  in- 
firm<tie«.  bv  a?e  or  unforeseen  calamities.  Everv  famiiy 
cons'antlv  assisted  its  branches  to  save  them  from  being 
reduced  to  b*»g?arv ;  which  to  them  appeared  worse  than 
death.  The  maiiisTrates  protected  those  who  were  desti- 
tute of  friend«,  or  incapable  of  labour.  When  Ulvsses 
was  dis!r>i4<*d  as  a  m^nlicant,  and  presented  himself  to 
Eur*machu«,  this  prince  observing  him  to  be  rohu«t  and 
healthv,  offered  to  «»tve  hini  emolovment,  or  otherwise  to 
leave  him  to  hii  ill-fortune.  When  the  Roman  emt>erors, 
even  in  the  reijns  of  N«»ro  and  Tiberius,  bestowed  their 
largesses,  the  distributors  were  o-d^-red  to  except  those 
from  recivio^  a  share  whose  bad  conduct  keot  them  in 
mi<erv ;  for  that  it  wa«  barter  the  lazy  should  die  with 
hunyr  than  b*»  ^''^  in  id1»»n«»RS. 

WhMher  the  ooiic*?  of  the  ancients  was  more  exact,  or 
whcth**r  thev  were  more  attentive  to  pnftise  the  duties  of 
humanirv,  or  that  si  aver  v  served  as  an  efficacious  correc- 
tive of  idl'»ness  ;  it  rlearlv  apneaf^s  how  little  was  ;hemis- 
e»-v,  and  how  few  lh*»  numbers  of  their  poor.  This  they 
did  too,  w'thont  bavin;  recourse  to  hospitals. 

At  the  esrabl-^hmenf  of  chn«tiaiiitv,  when  the  ap^tstles 
commanded  a  communitv  of  wealth  amon?  their  di^rjp|#»«, 
the  miseries  of  the  irtnr  be-ame  ail*'viated  in  a  greater  de- 
gree. If  thev  did  not  absolutely  livp  tojether,  as  we  have 
seen  reli?ions  orders,  vet  the  rich  continually  supplied  their 
distressed  brethren :  but  matters  greatly  changed  under 

miserable  men,  who  brought  with  them  urgent  wsota 
corporeal  infirmities.     The  chiisiian  families  were  then 
not  numerous;  tbey  could  not  satisfy  these  clainaants. 
The  magistrates  protected  them  ;  the^  built  spacioos  hos- 
pitals, under  different  titles,  for  the  sick,  the  aged,  ihe  i»- 
valids,  the  widows,  and  orphans.     The  emperors  and  the 
most  eminent  personages,  were  seen  in  these  hostiitals  ez- 
aminine  the  patients;    they  assisted  the  helpless;  tbe^ 
dressed  the  wounded.     This  did  so  much  honour  to  tho 
new  religion  that  Julian  the  Apostate  introduced  thn 
tom  among  the  pagans.   But  the  best  things  are  seen 
tinuaily  perverted. 

These  retreats  were  found  insufficient.    Manv  slasvs, 
proud  of  the  liberty  they  had  just  recovered,  looked  on 
them  as  prisons ;  and  tmder  various  pretexts,  wandered 
about  the  country.     They  displayed  with  art  ^e  scars  of 
their  former  wounds,  and  exposed  the  imprinted  marks  of 
their  chains.     They  found  thus  a  lucrative  profession  in 
begging,  which  had  been  interdicted  by  the  laws.  The  prcH 
fession  did  not  finish  with  them  :  men  of  an  untoward,  tur- 
bulent, and  licentious  disposition,  gladly  embraced  it.     It 
spread  so  wide  that  the  succeeding  ei.iperors  were  obticed 
to  institute  new  laws  ;  and  individuals  were   allowed"  to 
seize  on  these  mendicants  for  their  slaves  and  perpetual 
vassals :  a  powerful  preservative  against  this  disorder.    It 
is  observed  in  almost  every  part  of  the  wnrki,  bat  oars  ; 
and  prevents  that  populace  of  beggary  which  disgraces  Ei»> 
rope.     China  presents  us  with  a  nobler  example.  Nnbeg^ 
gars  are  seen  loitering  in  that  country.     All  the  world  are 
occupied,  even  to  the  blind  and  the  lame;  and  only  those 
who  are  incapable  of  labour,  live  at  the  public  expense. 
What  is  done  there  may  also  be  performed  hen.     Instead 
of  that  hideous,  importunate,  idle,  licentious  poverty,  as 
pernicious  to  the  police  as  to  morality,  we  should  see  the 
poverty  of  the  earlier  age*,  humble,'  modest,  frugal,  ro- 
bust, industrious,  and   laborious.     Then,   indeed,  the  fa- 
ble of  Plato  m»?ht  be  realised :  Poverty  maybe  embraced 
by  the  god  of  Riches :  and  if  she  did  not  produce  the  vo- 
luptuous off-'pring  of  Love,  she  would  become  the  fertile 
mothevof  Agriniltiire,  and  the  ingenious  mother  of  llie 
Arts  and  Manufactures. 


A  Rahhin  tmce  told  me  of  an  ingenious  inventieai, 
which  in  the  Talmud  is  attributed  to  Solomon ;  and  this 
story  shows  that  there  are  some  pleasing  tales  in  that  im- 
mense compi'ation. 

Thf  power  of  the  monarch  had  spread  his  wisdom  tolho 
remotest  part  of  the  known   world.      Queen  Sheba,  at- 
tracted by  the  splendour  of  his  reputation,  visited  this  poet- 
ical king  ai  his  own  court  ;  th«>re,  oiMrrfH^  to  exercise  tho 
sagacity  of  the  monarch,  Sheba  presented  herself  at  tho 
foot  of  the  throne  ;  in  each  hand  she  held  a  wreath  ;  tho 
one  was  composed  of  natural,  and  the  other  of  artificial 
flowers.      Art.  in   the  labour  of  the  mimetic  wreath,  had 
exquisitely  emtilated  the  livly  hues  of  nature:  so  that  at 
the  di<5iance  it  was  held  bv  the  queen  for  the  inspection  of 
the  king,  il  was  deemed   impossible  for  him  to  decide,  as 
her  question  imr>orted,  which  wreath  was  the  produetioB 
of  nature,  and  which  the  work  of  art.  The  sagacious  So- 
lomon seemed  t>erp|pxed  ;  yet  to  oe  vanquished,  though  in 
a  tnfle.  by  a  trifling  woman,  irritated  his  pride.     The  jion 
of  David,  he  who  had  written   treatises  on  the   vegetable 
produdions  *  fr"»ri  the  cedar  to  the  hvssop,'  to  acknowledge 
himself  outwitted  bv  a  woman,  with  shreds  of  paper  and 
glazed  paintings  !     The  honour  of  th*»  monarch's  reputa- 
tion for  divine  sagacity  seemed  diminished,  and  the  whole 
Jewish  court  looked  so'emn  and  melancholy.     At  length, 
an  expedi*>nt  pr»»«ented  itself  to  the  king  ;  and  it  mii«t  be 
confessed  worthy  of  the   naturalist.     Obterving  a   cluster 
of  b^es  hovering  about  a  window,  he  eommatided  that  it 
should  be  opened :  it  wa*  onenr^d :  the  bees  rushed  into 
therourt.and  alighted  imme«liatelv  on  one  of  the  wreaths, 
while  not  a  single  one  fixed  on  the  other.     The  baffled 
Sheba  had  one  more  reason  to  be  astonished  at  the  wis- 
dom of  Solomon. 

This  wofi'd  m^ke  a  prMtv  poetical  tsle.  Ft  would  vield 
an  elegant  description,  and  a  pl#»a«?ing  moral ;  that  Oif  hft 
onlv  TKMl*  on  ih<»  natural  beaut ips.  and  ne^er^jcta  on  the 
painied  Jhwer$r  however  inimitablv  the  coloora  may  be 



laid  on.  Applied  to  the  UidieSf  this  would  give  ii  pungency. 
In  ihe  *  Practical  Education*  of  the  Ed^eworths,  the  read- 
er will  find  a  very  ingenious  conversation  of  the  children 
about  this  story. 


Oldham,  in  his  *  Satires  U|ion  the  Jesuits,'  a  work  which 
would  admit  of  'a  curious  commentary,  alludes  to  their 
*  lying  legends,'   and  the  innumerable  imptmiions  they 

Eracti:}ed  on  ibe  credulous*  I  quote  a  few  lines  in  which 
e  has  collected  some  of  those  legendary  miracles, 
which  I  havi;  noticed  in  the  article  on  Ijegend§,  and  the 
amours  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  are  detailed  in  HeUgwiu 

Tell,  how  blessed  Virgin  to  come  down  was  seen 

Like  play* house  punk  desicending  in  machine, 

How  she  writ  billet-doux  and  love  discourjie. 

Made adsi^natioiia,  visits,  and  amours; 

How  hodi/disire'^i,  hur  smock  fur  banner  wore 

"Which  vanquished  Uca  ! — 

■  ■    ■  '  ■  how  li.'ih  ill  coiiventiclcs  met, 

And  mackerel  were  with  bait  of  dcKirine  caught: 

How  caitlc  have  juJicious  hearers  been  ! 

How  coni>ecraiBd  hives  with  bells  were  hung, 

And  bees  kept  mass  and  holy  anthems  sung  ! 

HowpisTituh'  roj.iry  kn'^cl'd,  and  sheep  were  taught 

To  bleat  Te  Dcum  and  Mairnificat ; 

How  fly.rtap,  orchurch-ceiisnic  houses  rid 

or  hisecn.  which  at  curao  "f  filar  died. 

How  ferrying  co-vIs  reli?i(i>i3  pilgrims  bore 

0*er  wavc«,  wiih.iut  thu  help  of  sail  or  oar  j 

How  zsalous  crab,  the  ^acred  imngc  bore. 

And  swam  a  catholic  to  the  lii^'l:lnt  shorn. 

With  shams  like  these  the  iriddy  rout  mislead, 

Their  fully  and  their  iiiiperstiiiun  tl'o  1. 

AH  these  are  allusions  to  the  exlravaoant  fictions  in  <  the 
Golden  Legend.'  Among  other  gro.4S  impositions  to  de- 
ceive the  moh,  Oidham  likewise  attacks  them  for  certain 
nublication.4  on  topiciii  not  less  sln»iilar.  Tue  tales  he  has 
racounied,  Oliiham  vays,  are  only  bails  for  children,  like 
t  >ys  at  a  fair ;  but  they  have  their  profounder  and  higher 
matters  for  the  learned  and  inquisitive.     He  goes  on  : 

One  undertakes  by  scales  of  miles  to  tell 
The  hounds,  djm»'nsi»ns.  and  extent  of  Hell ; 
How  many  German  Icasurs  thai  realm  contains; 
How  miny  chaltlrons  Hell  each  y«'ar  exuends 
In  coals  fiir  roajtinjj  Ha?oniH8  ami  rriMids. 
Another  Irit'lii-j  the  rout  wih  n^eHjl  s^i  iries 
Of  wil<l  Chimeras,  limbo's  Pnrgniorics  ; 
Where  bloaie  I  souls,  in  smoky  durance  hung. 
Like  a  Westphalia  gammon  or  neat's  tongue. 
To  bo  redeemed  with  masses  and  a  song. 

Satyr  IV. 

The  readers  of  Oldham,  for  Oldham  must  ever  have  read- 
ers among  the  curious  in  our  poorry,  have  been  ereatly 
difappointcd  in  the  pompous  edition  of  a  Captain  Thomp- 
son, which  illustrates  none  of  his  aiiiisions.  In  the  above 
line<«  Oldham  alludes  to  some  singular  works. 

Treatises  and  topographical  descriptions  of  Hell,  Pur- 
gatory, ani  i*ven  Heaven,  were  once  the  favourite  research- 
es among  certain  zealous  defenders  of  the  Romish  church, 
who  exhau^'ed  their  ink-horn«i  in  buildinv  up  a  Hell  to 
their  uwn  taste,  or  for  their  particular  purpose.  We  have 
a  treatise  of  Cardinal  Bellarmin,  a  Jesuit,  on  Purgatory ; 
bo  seem^  to  have  the  science  o^  a  surveyor,  anion?  all  the 
secret  tracks  and  the  (ijrmidable  divisions  of  '  (he  bottom- 
less pit. 

B-^llarmin  informs  us  that  there  are  beneath  the  earth 
Cnir  difr'*r«*nt,  or  a  profound  place  divided  into  four 
parts.  The  deepest  ofthesc  places  is  Hell;  it  contains 
iill  the  souls  of  the  damned,  where  will  be  also  their  bodies 
after  th«  resurrocfion,  and  likewise  all  the  demons.  The 
plaro  nearest  Hell  is  Purgaiory,  where  souls  are  purired, 
or  rather  whrre  ihey  appr^aso  tne  anjrer  of  God  by  their 
sufferinss.  He  savs,  ihat  the  same  fires  and  the  same  tor- 
ni(*nts  aro  alike  in  hoih  these  places,  the  only  difference 
between  Hell  and  Purgatory  ronsisiin?  in  their  duration. 
Next  to  Purgatory  is  tho  limho  of  those  infarUM  who  die 
without  havins  received  ihn  sacrament;  and  the  fourth 
place  is  th"  Umbo  of  the  fathers:  ihnt  i^  to  say.  of  those 
ju$i  men  who  died  before  the  drath  of  Christ.  But  since 
the  davs  of  the  Redeemer,  this  last  division  is  empty,  like 
an  apartment  to  be  let.  A  later  catholic  fheologist,  the 
famous  Tillemont.  condemns  aii  the  iiiualriout  parana  to 
tb&  eUrnal  t^mtnenis  of  UJyi '.  bccauio  ihey  lived  before  (he 

time  of  Jesus,  and  therefore  could  not  be  beneiitcd  by 
the  redemption  !  Speaking  of  younw  Tiberius,  who  was 
compelled  (o  fall  on  his  «>wii  >word,  Tillumi>nt  adds, '  Thus 
by  ni:i  own  hand  he  ended  his  miserable  life,  to  begin 
anolfuT^  the  misery  of  which  will  never  end  ."  Yet  history 
records  nothin;;  bad  of  this  prince.  Jortin  ob.^ervc8  that 
he  added  this  rotation  in  this  latter  edition,  uo  that  the  good 
man  as  he  grew  older  grew  mure  uncharitable  in  hii  reli- 
gious notions.  It  is  in  this  manner  too  that  ihe  Benedic- 
tine editor  of  Justin  Martyr  speaks  of  the  illustrious  pa- 
gans. This  father,  alter  highly  applauding  Socrates,  and 
a  few  more  who  resembled  him  inclines  to  think  that  they 
are  not  fixed  in  Hell,  But  the  Benedictine  editor  takes 
great  pains  to  clear  Ihe  good  father  from  the  shameful  im- 
putation of  supposing  that  a  wrtuout  pagan  might  be  taved 
as  w^ell  as  a  Benedictine  monk  !  For  a  curious  specimen 
of  this  odium  thetdogteum^  see  the  censure  of  the  Sorbonna 
on  Marmontel's  Belisarius. 

The  adverse  party,  who  were  cither  philosophers  or  re- 
formers, receiv't*d  all  such  itifonnation  with  great  suspi- 
cion. Anthony  Corncliiu.<<,  a  lawyer  in  the  I6ih  centuryi 
wrote  a  small  iract,  which  was  so  effeciually  suppressed, 
as  a  monster  of  aiheijim,  thai  a  copv  is  now  only  to  be 
found  in  the  hands  of  the  curiou:<.  This  author  ridiculed 
the  absurd  and  horrid  doctrine  of  injant  d/imnation,  and 
was  instantly  decried  as  an  atheist,  and  the  printer  prose- 
cuted to  his  ruin  !  Caslius  Sfcundus  Curio,  a  noble  Ita- 
lian, published  a  treatise  De  Amplitudine  beati  regni  Dei, 
tu  [>ruvc  that  Heaven  has  more  inhabitants  than  HtU^  or  in 
his  own  phrase  that  the  elect  are  more  numerous  than  the 
reprobate.  However  wo  may  incline  to  smile  at  these 
works,  their  design  was  benevolen'.  They  were  the  first 
streaks  of  the  inirninz  hcht  of  the  Reformation.  Even 
f-urh  u'orkii  n-.«isud  mankind  to  examine  more  closely,  and 
hold  in  greater  contempt,  the  ix'ravaganl  and  pernicious 
doctrines  of  the  domineering  papistical  church. 


With  the  character  of  Bruycre's  Absent  Man  the  read- 
er is  well  acquainted.  It  is  translated  in  the  Spectator, 
and  it  has  been  exhibited  un  the  theatre.  The  general 
opinion  runs  that  it  is  a  fictitious  character,  or  at  least  one 
the  author  has  loo  highly  coloured.  It  was  well  known 
however  to  his  contemporaries  to  be  the  Count  De  Bran- 
cas.  The  present  anecdotes  concerning  the  same  person 
have  been  unknown  lo.  or  f^irgotfen  by,  Bruyere  ;  and  are 
to  the  full  OS  ('x'ruordin.'irv  a*<  il.ose  which  characterise 
JV/mo/eas,  or  the  Absent  Man. 

The  count  was  reading  by  the  fire-eide,  (but  Heaven 
knows  with  what  degree  of  attention,)  when  the  nurse 
brousht  him  his  infant  child.  He  throws  down  the  book ; 
he  lakes  the  child  in  his  arms.  He  was  playing  with  her, 
when  an  important  visiter  was  announced.  Having  for- 
eot  he  had  quitted  his  book,  and  that  it  was  his  child  ho 
held  in  liis  hanJs,he  hastily  flung  the  squalling  innocent  on 
the  loble. 

The  Count  was  walking  in  the  street,  and  the  Duke  do 
la  Rochefoucauh  crossed  ihe  way  to  speak  to  him.  *  God 
bless  ihee,  poor  man  !*  exclaimed  the  count.  Rochefoii- 
cault  smiled,  and  was  beginning  to  address  him : — '  Is  it 
not  enough,'  cried  the  count,  inierrup'ing  him,  and  some- 
what in  a  pa!>«ion  ;  '  it  is  not  enough  that  I  have  said,  at 
first,  I  have  nothing  for  you  ?  such  lazy  beggars  as  you 
hinder  a  gentleman  from  walking  the  streets.*  Rochelou- 
cault  burst  into  a  louJ  l:iu(:S,  and  awakening  the  Absent 
Man  from  his  lethargy,  he  was  not  a  litilo  surprised,  him- 
self, that  he  should  have  taken  his  friend  for  an  importunate 
mendicant!  La  Fontaine  is  reroided  lo  have  been  one  of 
the  most  absent  of  men  ;  and  Furetiere  relates  a  nrciim- 
stance  which,  if  true,  is  one  of  the  most  sinjular  distrac- 
tions possible.  La  Fontaine  attended  the  burial  of  one  of 
his  friends,  and  sometime  afierward.««  he  called  to  vi.«it  him. 
At  first  he  was  shocked  at  the  information  of  his  death,  but 
recovering  from  his  surjiriso,  he  observed — '  It  is  true 
enough  !  for  now  I  recollect  I  went  to  his  funeral.' 


We  have  heard  of  manv  curiotM  deceptions  occasioned 
by  the  imitative  powers  of  wax-work.  A  neries  of  anato- 
mical sriilntures  in  coloured  wax  projected  by  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Tusf  any,  under  the  direction  of  Foniana.  Twenty 
apartments  have  been  filled  with  those  curious  imitations. 
They  represent  in  everv  possible  detail,  and  in  each  suc- 
re«siv^  »!ai?«*  of  denudsiion.  the  r»»Tfln«  of  Frn«e  on  I 
I  production ;  the  muscular,  ihe  vascular,  ihc  nervous,  and 



the  booj  system.  Thfy  imitate  equally  well  the  TonD,  and 
more  exactly  the  colouring  of  nature  than  iojecied  prepa- 
ratioos ;  and  they  have  been  employed  to  perpetuate  many 
fransieni  phenomena  of  disease,  o'f  which  no  other  court 
could  ha^c  made  so  lively  a  record. 

There  is  a  species  of  wax<^ork,  which,  though  it  can 
hardly  claim  the  honours  of  the  fine  arts,  is  adapted  to  aP 
ford  much  pleasure.  I  mean  figures  of  wax,  which  may 
be  modelled  with  the  great  truth  of  character. 

Menage  has  noticed  a  work  of  this  kind.  In  the  year 
1675,  the  Duke  de  Matne  received  a  gilt  cabinet,  about  the 
size  of  a  moderate  table.  On  the  door  was  inscribed, 
*  The  apartment  of  Wit?  The  inside  exhibited  an  alcove 
and  a  long  gallery.  In  an  arm-chair  was  seated  the  fi- 
sure  of  tlte  duke  himself  composed  of  wax,  the  resvm- 
Dlance  the  most  perfect  imaginable.  On  one  side  stood 
the  Duke  de  la  Rochefoucauli,  to  whom  he  presented  a  pa- 
per of  verses  for  his  examination.  Mr  de  Marcillac  and 
Bossuet  Bishop  of  Meaux,  were  standing  near  the  arm- 
chair. In  the  alcove,  Madame  de  Thianges  and  Madame 
de  la  Fayette  sat  retired  reading  a  book.  Boileau,  the 
satirist  stood  at  the  door  of  the  gallery,  hindering  seven  or 
eight  bad  poets  from  entering.  Near  Boileau  stood  Ra- 
cine who  seemed  to  beckon  to  La  Foniaiiie  to  come  for- 
ward. All  these  figures  were  formed  of  wax ;  and  this 
philosophical  baby-house,  interesting  for  the  personages  it 
imitated,  might  induce  a  wish  in  some  philosophers  to  play 
once  more  with  one. 

There  was  lately  ui  old  canon  at  Cologne  who  made  a 
collection  of  small  wax  models  of  cbaraci eristic  figures, 
such  as,  personifications  of  misery,  in  a  hagirard  old  man 
with  a  scanty  crast  and  a  brown  jug  before  him :  or  of  ava- 
rice in  a  keen  looking  Jew  miser  counting  his  gold,  which 
were  done  with  such  a  spirit  and  reality  that  a  Flemish 
painter  a  Hogarth  or  Wilkie,  could  hardly  have  worked  up 
the  fading  of  the  figure  more  impressively.  All  these 
were  done  with  a  truth  and  expression  which  I  could  not 
have  imagined  the  wax  capable  of  exhibiting,  says  tiie  lively 
writer  of  *  an  Autumn  on  the  Rhine.*  There  is  some- 
thing very  infantine  in  this  taste  ;  but  I  have  preserved  it 
long  in  life,  and  only  lament  that  it  is  very  rarely  gratified 
by  such  close  copiers  of  nature  as  was  tins  old  canon  of 


AH  the  world  have  heard  of  these  ttatttes :  thr-y  have 
served  as  vehicles  for  the  keenest  5aiire  in  a  lard  of  the 
most  uncontrolled  despotism.  The  »tatue  ofPaxquin  (from 
whence  the  word  pa»quinade)  and  that  of  Marforio  are 
placed  in  Rome  in  two  difierent  r,oarters.  Marfor%o*$  is 
an  ancient  $taiue  that  lies  at  itx  whole  lt:iigih :  either  Pa- 
narium  Jcrvum ;  or  the  river  Rhine.  That  of  Ptuuptin  is 
a  marble  sCoftte,  greatly  mutilated,  which  stands  at  the 
comer  of  the  palace  of  the  Ursinos  supposed  to  be  the  fi- 
gure of  a  gladiator.  Whatever  they  may  have  been  is 
now  of  little  consequence;  to  one  or  other  of  these  statueef 
during  the  coucealment  of  the  night  are  affixed  those  sa- 
tires or  lampoons  which  the  authors  wish  should  be  diitpers- 
cd  about  Rome  without  any  danger  to  themselves.  When 
Mivfano  is  attacked,  Pamitdn  comes  to  his  succour  and 
when  Paaquin  is  the  sufferer  he  finds  in  Marforio  a;  con- 
stant defender.  Thus,  by  a  thrust  and  a  parry,  the  most 
serious  matters  are  disclosed  ;  and  the  most  illustrious 
personages  are  attacked  by  their  enemies,  aiKl  defended 
Dy  their  friends. 

Missoo  in  hb  travels  in  Italy,  gives  the  fol lowing  ac- 
coirat  of  the  origin  of  the  name  of  the  statue  of  Pas- 

A  satirical  tailor,  who  lived  at  Rome,  and  whose  name 
was  Paaquin,  amused  himself  with  severe  raillery ,  liberal- 
ly bestowed  on  those  who  passed  by  his  shop;  \\iiich  in 
time  became  the  louni^e  of  the  news^mon^ers.  The  lailor 
had  precisely  the  talent  to  head  a  regiment  of  satirical 
vrits.  and  had  he  had  time  to  publiah^  be  would  have  been 
the  Peter  Pindar  of  his  day;  but  his  genius  seems  to  have 
been  satisfied  to  rest  cross-legged  un  his  shop-board.  When 
any  lampoons  or  amusing  bon-mois  were  current  in  Rnme, 
they  were  usually  called  from  his  shop,  naJTuinaoVs.  After 
bu  death  this  statue  of  an  ancient  gladiator  was  found  un- 
der the  pavement  of  his  shop.  It  was  soon  set  up  ;  and 
by  universal  consent  was  inscribed  with  his  name:  and  they 
still  attempt  to  raise  him  from  the  dead,  and  keep  the  caus- 
tic tailor  alive,  in  the  marble  gladiator  of  wit. 

There  is  a  very  rare  work,  with  this  title  :— >*  Pa^quil- 
lorum,  Tomi  Duo.*    The  first  cootainiag  the  verse,  and 

Uie  second  the  prose  pasooinadet  published  at  Basle,  1544. 
The  rarity  of  this  coileetion  of  satirical  pieces  is  en- 
tirety owing  to  the  arts  of  suppression  practised  by  the  pft- 
pal  government.    Sallengre,  in  his  Literary  Mrmoirm,  ha« 

e'ven  an  account  of  this  work ;  his  own  copy  had  fonoerlj 
(ionced  to  Daniel  Heinsius,  who,  in  two  verses,  wriitcsi 
in  his  nand,  describes  itfe  rarity  and  the  price  it  cost  ; 

Roma  meos  firatres  ignl  dedic,  onkra  Phcnix 
Vivo,  aurieaque  veneo  ceninm  Hensm. 

*  Rome  gave  mv  brochers  to  the  flames,  bm  I  surviie  a  soli- 
tary Pbcenix.  Heinaias  bought  me  for  a  bundfed  gotdsn 

This  collectioo  contains  a  great  number  of  pieees  com- 
posed at  different  times,  agamst  ibe  popes,  canin»is,  &c. 
I'hey  are  not  indeed  materiab  for  the  historian,  and  thej 
must  be  taken  with  grains  of  allowance  ;  but  Mr  Reseoe 
might  have  discovers  in  these  epigrams  and  pims,  ihat  of 
his  hero  Leo  X,  and  the  more  than  infam«ms  Locretia  cf 
Alexander  YI ;  even  tbo  corrupt  Romans  of  the  day  were 
capable  of  expressing  themselves  with  the  otaMM>'t  free- 
dom.* Of  these  three  respectable  personages  we  fisd  se- 
veral epitaphs.  Of  Alexander  YI  we  have  an  apdogy 
for  his  conduct. 

Vendit  Alexander  Claves,  aliaria,  Christmn, 
Eroerat  ille  prius,  venders  jure  potesL 
*  Alexander  sells  the  keys,  the  alurs,  and  ChriK ; 
As  he  bought  them  first,  he  had  a  tight  to  sell  tbcm  !* 

On  Lucretia :— - 

Hoc  tnroulo  dormit  Lncretia  nomine,  sed  re 
Thais;  Alexandri  fllia,  sponsa,  nums! 

*  Beneath  this  stone  sleeps  Lucretia  by  nsme,  bm  by  ca 
ture    Thais;  the   daughter,  the  wife, ihe daugbter-ln>law of 
Alexander  !* 

Leo  X  was  a  frequent  butt  for  the  arrows  of  Pas- 
quin  :— 

Sacra  sub  extrema,  si  foite  lequirithu  bora 
Cur  I^o  non  poiuic  snmere  ;  vesdiderat. 

*  Do  Tou  ask  why  the  Lion  dkl  not  take  the  eacrameni  op 
his  death-bed  f— How  could  he  ?    He  had  sold  it  !* 

Many  of  these  satirical  touches  depend  on  puns.  Cr- 
ban  YII,  one  ofthe  Barberini  family,  pillaged  the  pantbeoa 
of  brass  to  make  cannon,  on  which  occasion  Pasquin  wan 
made  to  say  '— 

Quod  ncn  fercnint  Barbari  Rome,  fecit  BarberinL.* 
,      On  Clement  YII,  whose  death  was  said  to  be  occasion- 
ed by  the  prescriptions  ofhis  Physician  : 

Cortius  orrjdit  Clementem,  Curtins  anro 
Doiiandus,  per  qu^^m  publica  pana  eslus. 

*  Dr  Ctirtius  bps  killed  the  pope  by  his  remedies ;  be  enghC 
to  be  paid  as  a  who  deserves  well  ofthe  state. 

Another  calls  Dr  Curiius,  '  The  Lamb  of  God  who  an- 
nuls or  takes  away  all  worldly  sins.' 

The  fijllowing,  on  Paul  III,  are  singular  conceptions  >- 

Papa  Mediif^um  ctput  est,  coma  turba  Nepottim : 
Persfeus  cade  caput,  CtEsaries  periit. 

'  The  pope  is  the  head  of  Medu5a  ;  the  horrid  tresses  are  his 
nephews  ;  Fcrscus,  cut  ofl'tfae  head,  and  then  we  shall  be  fid 
of  these  serpent- locks.* 

Another  is  sarcastic— 

Ut  csnerent  data  muUa  olim  sunt  Vatibns  era : 
Uc  uceam,  quantum  to  mibi,  Paule,  daWs  ? 

*  Heretofore  money  was  given  to  poets  that  they  might  stag : 
how  much  will  yuu  give  roe,  Paul,  lobcsileiit  :* 

The  collection  contains,  among  other  classes,  passages 
from  the  Scriptures  which  have  been  applied  to  thecotirtof 
Rome  ;  to  different  nations  and  perrons  ;  and  one  of*  Sor» 
fee  Virgitiana  per  Parfvillvm  co//eef4S,*— psssages  from 
Yirgil  frequently  bappilv  applied  and  those  who  are  cu- 
rious in  the  history  of  t^ose  times,  will  find  this  portion 
interesting.     The  work  itself  not  quite  so  rare  as  Da- 

*  It  appears  by  a  note  In  Mr.  Roscoe's  catalogue  of  his  U* 
brary,  thni  three  of  the  sarrastic  eplCTams  here  cited,  are  given 
in  the  Life  of  Leo  X.  At  this  dii>(anre  of  time  I  cannot  account 
tor  my  own  inadvertency.  It  has  been,  however,  the  ores- 
sion  of  calling  down  from  Mr  Roscoe  an  admirable  reflection, 
which  I  am  desirous  of  preserving,  as  a  can^n  of  critictom. 
*  It  is  m'x'h  safer,  in  general,  to  fpeak  ofthe  conteiitsnf  books 
poeiiirely  than  neeatively,  as  the  latter  requires  that  they 
should  nrft  be  read.*  I  regret  that  our  elegant  and  nervous 
waiter  should  have  considered  a  casual  inadvertence  as  worth 
his  aosnilon* 



Bwl  HBiDsauit  imagiiied ;  the  price  might  now  reach  firom 
five  to  ten  guineas. 

Marforio  is  a  statue  of  JMon,  found  in  theJFhntm;) 
which  the  people  hare  corrupted  into  Mar/orio,  These 
statues  are  placed  at  opposite  ends  of  the  town,  so  that 
there  is  always  sufficient  time  to  make  Marforio  reply  to 
the  gibes  and  jeers  of  Pasqum,  in  walking  Trom  one  u>  the 
Other.  I  am  obliged  for  the  iolbnnation  to  my  friend  Mr 
Duppa,  the  elegant  biographer  of  Michael  Angelo. 

rcMALB  BSAUrr  Avu  ORVAiuirrs. 

The  ladies  in  Japan  gild  their  teeth,  and  those  of  the 
Indies  paint  them  red.  The  pearl  of  teeth  must  be  dyed 
Uack  to  be  beautiful  in  Guxurat.  In  Greenland  the  wo- 
men colour  their  faces  with  blue  and  yellow.  However 
Iresh  the  complexion  of  a  Muscovite  may  be,  she  would 
think  herself  Ytry  ugly  if  she  was  not  plastered  over  with 
paint.  The  Chinese  must  have  their  feet  as  diminutive 
as  those  of  the  she  goats ;  and  to  render  them  thus,  their 
youth  is  passed  in  tortures.  In  ancient  Persia,  an  aqua- 
Une  nose  was  oftra  thought  worthy  of  the  crown ;  and  if 
there  was  any  conception  between  two  princes,  the  peo- 
ple generally  went  by  this  criterion  of  majesty.  In  some 
countries,  ine  mothers  break  the  noses  ot  their  children; 
•nd  in  other  press  the  head  between  two  boards,  that  it 
may  become  square.  The  modem  Persians  have  a  strong 
aversion  to  red  hair ;  the  Turiis,  onthe  contrary,  are  warm 
admirers  of  it.  The  female  Hottentot  receives  from  the 
hand  of  her  lover,  not  silk  or  wreaths  of  flowers,  but 
warm  guts  and  reeking  tripe,  to  dress  herself  with  enviable 

In  China  small  round  eyes  are  liked ;  and  the  girls  are 
continually  p^uckinc  their  eye-hrows  that  they  may  be  thin 
and  long.  The  Turkish  women  dip  a  gold  brush  in  the 
tincture  of  a  black  drug,  which  they  pass  over  their  eye- 
brows. It  M  too  visible  by  day,  but  looks  shining  by  night. 
They  tinge  their  nails  with  a  rose^olour;  Aa  African 
beauty  must  have  small  eyes,  thick  lips,  a  large  flat  nose, 
and  a  skin  beautifully  black.  The  Kmperor  of  Monomo> 
tapa  wouU  not  change  his  amiable  negress  for  the  most 
brilliant  European  beauty. 

An  ornament  for  the  nose  appears  to  us  perfectly  wme- 
tassary.  The  Peruvians,  however,  think  otherwise ;  and 
they  hang  on  it  a  weighty  ring,  the  thickness  of  which  is 
proportioned  by  the  rank  of  their  husbands.  The  custom 
of  boring  it^  as  our  ladies  do  their  ears,  is  very  common  in 
several  nations.  Through  the  perforation  are  hung  vari- 
ous materials ;  such  as  green  crystal,  gold  stones,  a  single 
and  sometimes  a  great  number  of  gold  rings.  This  is  ratner 
troublesome  to  them  in  blowing  their  noses  ;  and  the  fact 
is,  some  have  informed  us,  that  the  Indian  ladies  never 
perform  this  very  useful  operation. 

The  female  head-dress  is  carried  in  some  countries  to 
singular  extravagance.  The  Chinese  fair  carries  on  her 
bead  the  figure  of  a  certain  bird.  This  bird  is  composed 
of  copper,  or  of  gold,  according  to  the  quality  of  the  per- 
son :  The  wings  spread  out,  falfover  the  front  of  the  head- 
dress, and  conceal  the  temples.  The  tail,  long  and  open, 
forms  a  beautiful  tuft  of  feathers.    The  beak  covers  the 

S»  of  the  nose ;  the  neck  is  fastened  to  the  body  <^the  ar- 
cial  animal  by  a  spring,  that  it  may  the  more  freely  play, 
and  tremble  at  the  sughtest  motion. 

The  extravagance  of  the  Myantses  is  far  more  ridiculous 
than  the  above.  They  carry  on  their  heads  a  slight  board, 
rather  longer  than  a  fiwt,  and  about  six  inches  broad :  with 
this  they  cover  their  hair,  and  seal  it  with  wax.  They 
cannot  lie  down,  nor  lean,  without  keeping  the  neck  straight ; 
and  the  country  being  very  woody,  it  u  not  uncommon  to 
find  them  with  their  heaoHlress  entangled  in  the  trees ; 
whenever  they  comb  their  hair,  they  pw  an  hour  by  the 
fire  in  melting  the  wax ;  but  this  oomoing  is  only  perform- 
ed once  or  twice  a  year. 

The  inhabitaiits  of  the  land  of  Natal  wear  caps,  or  boD- 
BOts,  from  six  to  ten  inches  high  composed  of^the  fat  of 
oxen.  They  then  gradually  anoint  the  bead  with  a  purer 
ffrease^  which  mixing  with  the  hair,  fastens  the  batauta 
ftrthwr  lives.  / 


Sraimos  in  his  age  of  religious  revolutio&  expressed  an 
alarm,  which  in  some  shape  nas  been  since  realixed.  He 
■trangely,  yet  acutely  onerves,  that  *  Uitrotim  began  to 
make  a  great  and  happy  progress ;  hot,'  he  adds,  *  I  fear 
two  thoigs,  that  the  study  of  Hitnw  will  promote  Jwdaimn^ 
nd  the  study  of  pkmoijf  will  nmn  Paganism.'    Ho 

speaks  to  the  same  purpose  in  the  Adages,  c.  188  mm 
Jortin  observes,  p.  90.  Blackwell  in  his  curioos  Life  of 
Homer,  after  showing  that  the  ancient  oracles  were  tho 
fountains  of  knowledge,  and  that  the  god  oCDetJU  actual 
ly  was  believed  by  the  votaries,  from  the  oracle's  perfect 
acquaintance  with  the  country,  parentage,  and  fortuuM  of 
the  suppliant,  and  many  predictions  havmg  been  verified ; 
that  besides  all  this,  the  oracles  that  have  reached  us  dii^ 
cover  a  wide  knowledge  of  every  thing  relating  to  Greece ; 
—he  is  at  a  loss  to  account  for  a  knowledge  that  he  thinks 
has  something  divine  in  it:  it  was  a  knowledge  to  be  found 
nowhere  in  CTreece  but  among  the  oracles.  He  would  ao- 
coiffit  for  this  phenomenon,  by  supposing  there  existed  a 
succession  of  learned  men  devoted  to  tnb  purpose.  He 
says,  *  Either  we  must  admit  the  knowledge  of  the  priests, 
or  turn  eonvcrte  to  the  aneienUf  and  believe  in  the  ommsosncc 
ofApoUoj  to/iidi  in  this  age  I  knmo  nobody  in  hazard  t^, 
zet  to  the  astonishment  of  this  writer,  were  he  now  living, 
he  would  have  witnessed  this  incredible  fact !  Even  Eras* 
mus  himself  might  have  wondered. 

We  discover  ue  origin  of  modem  platonism,  as  it  may  bo 
distinguished  among  the  Italians;  About  the  middle  of 
the  fifteenth  centiiry,  some  time  before  the  Turks  had  bo- 
come  masters  of  Constantinople,  a  great  number  of  philo> 
sophers  flourished.  (TonistAns  P(c</bo  was  once  distin|{uish- 
ed  by  his  genius,  his  erudition,  and  his  fervent  passion  for 
j^atmdtm,  Mr  Roecoe  notices  Pletho ;  *  His  discourses 
had  so  powerful  an  eflTect  upon  Cosmo  de  JBtfedici,  who 
was  his  constant  auditor,  that  he  established  an  academy 
at  Florence  for  the  sole  purpose  of  cultivating  this  new  and 
more  elevated  species  or  philosophy.'  The  learned  Mar- 
silio  Ficino  translated  Plotinus,  that  creat  archimage  oC 
flalonic  mystietsm.  Such  were  Pletho^s  eminent  abuuies, 
that  in  his  okl  age  those  whom  hb  novel  system  had  greatly 
irritated,  either  feared  or  respected  him.  He  had  scarcely 
breathed  his  last  when  they  oegan  to  abuse  Plato  and  our 
Pletho.  The  following  accoimt  is  written  by  George  of 

*  Lately  has  arisen  amongst  us  a  second  Mahomet  i  and 
this  second,  if  we  do  not  take  care,  will  exceed  in  areatnesa 
the  first,  by  the  dreadful  consequences  of  his  wicked  doc- 
trine, as  toe  first  has  exceeded  Plato.     A  disciple  and 
rival  of  this  philosopher  in  philosophy,  in  eloquence,  and  in 
science,  he  nad  fixed  his  residence  in  the  Peloponnese. 
His  common  name  was  GemtsCAns,  but  he  assimied  that 
of  Pletho,    Perhaps  Gemisthus,  to  make  us  believe  mofo 
easily  that  he  was  descended  from  heaven,  and  to  engage 
us  to  receive  more  readily  his doctrioe  and  his newlaw, 
wished  to  change  his  name,  according  to  the  manner  of  the 
ancient  patriarchs;  of  whom  it  is  said,  that  at  the  time  the 
name  was  changed  they  were  called  to  the  greatest  things. 
He  has  written  with  no  vulgar  art,  and  with  no  common 
elegance.    He  has  given  new  rules  for  the  conduct  of  lifo, 
and  for  the  regulation  of  human  affairs ;  and  at  the  same 
time  has  vomited  Carth  a  great  number  of  blasphemiea 
against  the  catholic  relisicm.    He  was  so  xealous  a  plai- 
tonist  that  he  entertained  no  other  sentiments  than  those 
of  Plato,  concerning  the  nature  of  the  gods,  souls,  sacri- 
fices, &c.    I  have  heard  him  myself,  when  we  were  t<^ 
gether  at  Florence,  sav,  that  in  a  mw  years  all  men  on  the 
lace  of  the  earth  would  embrace  with  one  common  consent, 
and  with  one  mind,  a  single  and  simple  religion,  at  the  first 
mstructions  which  should  be  given  by  a  single  preaching. 
And  when  I  asked  him  if  it  would  be  the  reUgion  of  Jesqs 
Christ,  or  that  of  Mahomet?  he  aswered,  ** rfeitber  oqo 
nor  the  other ;  but  a  third,  which  will  not  greatly  differ 
from  pogontsm."    These  words  I  heard  with  so  much  ii^ 
dignation,  that  since  that  time  I  have  always  bated  him  i 
I  fook  upon  him  as  a  dangerous  viper ;  and  I  cannot  think 
of  him  without  abhorrence.' 

The  pious  writer  of  this  account  is  too  videntjy  agita- 
ted :  he  might  perhaps,  have  beatowed  a  smile  or  pity  or 
contempt ;  iNit  the  bigots  and  fanatics  are  not  lesa  insano 
than  the  impious  themselves. 

It  was  when  Pletho  died  full  of  years  and  honours,  that 
the  malice  of  his  enemies  collected  all  its  venom.  A  dr- 
cumstaneo  that  seems  to  prove  that  his  abilities  must  hafo 
been  great  indeed  to  have  kept  such  crowds  silent :  and  it 
is  not  improbable,  this  scheme  of  impiety  was  less  im|HOQi 
than  some  people  imagined.  Not  a  few  catholic  writen 
lament  that  his  book  was  buret,  and  greatly  regret  the  loss 
of  Pletho's  work ;  which,  they  say,  was  not  meant  to  sub- 
vert the  christian  religion,  but  otaj  to  unfold  the  svstem  of 
Plato  and  to  ooUect  what  be  and  other  pbiloaopherabad 
.writbsn  on  nJuaoa  and  politics. 



or  hia  rolifioofl  •cfaeme,  the  reader  may  jodfe  by  thii 
■aniBuinracooaot.  The  general  title  of  the  voluine  ran 
Ibu :  *  This  book  treats  of  the  lawe  of  the  beet  fbnn  of 
foiremnient,  and  what  all  men  must  observe  in  their  public 
and  private  stations,  to  live  together  in  the  most  perfect, 
the  moet  innocent,  and  the  most  happy  manner.  The 
whole  was  divided  into  three  books.  The  titles  of  the 
chapters  where  paganism  was  openly  inculcated,  are  r^ 
ported  by  G^nnadius,  who  condemned  it  to  the  flames,  but 
who  has  iKM  thought  proper  to  enter  into  the  manner  of  lus 
arjfumenis,  Sec.  The  miniety  and  the  extravagance  of 
this  new  legislalor  appeared  above  all,  in  the  articles  which 
eoncereed  religion.  He  acknowledges  a  plurality  of  gods ; 
some  superior,  whom  he  placed  above  the  heavens ;  and 
the  others  inferior,  on  this  side  the  heavens.  The  first 
existing  from  the  remotest  antiquity ;  the  others  younger, 
and  of  different  a^s.  He  gave  a  king  to  all  these  gods ; 
and  he  called  him  ZEYX,  or  Jupiier,  as  the  pagans  named 
this  power  formerly.  According  to  him,  the  stars  had  a 
■oul ;  the  demons  were  not  malignant  spiriu ;  and  the  world 
was  eternal.  He  established  polygamv,  and  was  even  in- 
clined to  a  community  of  women.  All  his  work  was  filled 
with  such  reveries,  and  with  not  a  few  impieties,  which 
my  pious  author  will  not  venture  to  give. 

What  the  intentions  of  Pletho  were,  it  would  be  rash  to 
determine.  If  the  work  was  only  an  arrancement  of  pa- 
ganism, or  the  platonic  philosophy,  it  might  tiave  been  an 
mnocent,  if  not  a  curious  volume.  He  was  learned  and  hu- 
mane, and  had  not  passed  his  life  entirely  in  the  solitaiy 
recesses  of  his  study. 

To  stra'm  human  curiosity  to  the  utmost  fimita  of  human 
credibility,  a  modem  P/<cAo  has  s risen  in  Mr  Thomas  T^ 
lor,  who,  consonant  to  the  platonic  philosophy,  at  the  pre- 
sent day  religiously  professes  poljftham!  At  the  close 
of  the  eifhteenth  century,  be  it  recorded,  were  published 
many  voJuroes,  in  whicli  the  author  affects  to  avow  himself 
a  sealooa  Platonist,  and  asserts  he  can  prove  that  the 
christian  religion  is  a  <  bastardized  and  barbarized  Platon- 
ism !'  The  divinities  of  Plato  are  the  divinities  to  be 
adored,  and  we  are  to  be  taught  to  call  God  Jupiter ;  the 
Virgin,  Venus;  and  Christ,  Cupid!  And  the  Iliad  of 
Homer  allegorized,  is  converted  into  a  Greek  bible  of  the 
arcana  of  nature !  Extraordinary  as  this  Uterary  lunacy 
naay  appear,  we  must  observe,  that  it  stands  not  singular 
in  itie  annaJsof  the  history  of  the  human  mind.  The  Flo- 
rentine academy  which  Cosmo  founded,  had,  no  doubt, 
•ome  classical  enthusiasU ;  but  who,  perhaps  according  to 
the  political  character  of  their  country,  were  prudent  and 
reserved.  The  platonic  furor,  however,  appears  to  have 
reached  other  countries.  The  following  remarkable  anec- 
dote has  been  eiven  by  St.  Foix,  in  liis  *  Essais  histori- 
ques  sur  Paris.^  In  the  reign  of  Louis  XII,  a  scholar 
named  Hemon  de  la  Fosse,  a  native  of  Abbeville,  by  coo- 
tinually  reading  and  admiring  the  Greek  and  Latin  writers, 
became  mad  enough  to  persuade  himself  that  it  was  im- 

e«sible  that  the  religion  of  siurh  great  geniuses  as  Homer, 
icero,  and  Virgil  was  a  false  one.  On  the  25f  h  of  Au- 
gust, 1508,  being  at  church,  he  suddenly  snatched  the  boat 
from  the  hands  m*  the  priest,  at  the  moment  it  was  raised, 
exclaiming;  <  what!  always  this  follv!*  He  was  imme- 
diatelv  seized  and  put  in  prison.  In  the  hope  that  be 
would  abjure  his  extravagant  errors,  they  delayed  his  pun- 
ishment ;  but  no  exhortation  nor  intreaties  availed.  He 
peraisted  in  maintaining  that  Jupiter  was  the  sovereign 
God  of  the  universe,  and  that  there  was  no  other  paradise 
than  the  Elsyian  fields.  He  was  burnt  alive,  after  having 
first  had  his  tongue  pierced,  and  his  hand  cut  off.    Thus 

Crished  an  ardent  and  learned  youth,  who  ought  only  to 
re  been  condemned  as  a  Bedlamite. 
Dr  More,  the  most  rational  of  our  modem  Platonists, 
abounds,  however,  with  the  most  extravagant  reveries, 
and  was  inflated  with  ecotism  and  enthusiasm,  as  much  as 
an^  of  his  mystic  predecessors.    He  conceived  that  he 

hoM  an  intercourse  with  the  divinity  itself!  thai  he  had  been 
shot  as  a  fiery  dart  into  the  worid,  and  be  hoped  he  had 
bit  the  mark.  He  carried  his  sell^conceit  to  such  extra- 
vagance, that  he  thought  his  urine  smelt  like  violets,  and 
his  body  in  the  spring  season  had  a  sweet  odour;  a  per- 
fection peculiar  to  hiouelf.  Theae  visionaries  iadnlge  the 
■oat  fanci^  vanity. 


A  volonM  on  this  subject  might  be  made  v«ry  curious 
and  antartaiuQg,  for  otir  anoestan  ware  not  lass  vacillaft* 

mc,  and  perhaps  mora  capcicumsly  gruleai|uny  'fnwigPi 
infinitely  leas  taste  than  tae  present  generation.    W« 
phitosopher  and  an  artist,  aa  well  as  an  antiquary,  foe 
poae  such  a  work,  much  diversified  entevtainflBetf, 
some  curious  investigatiott  of  the  progress  of  the  aits 
taste,  wouU  doubtless  be  the  result :  the  si^bjeci  ochcrwiat 
appears  of  trifling  value ;  the  very  farthing  piacea  of  history. 

The  origin  of  many  fashions  was  in  the  endea< 
conceal  some  deforauty  of  the  mventor ;  hence  tlM 
mils,  hoops,  and  other  monstroua  devises.  If  a 
beauty  chanced  to  have  an  uneoiml  hip,  those 
very  handsome  hips,  woukl  kiad  them  with  that  &lsa 
which  the  other  was  compelled  by  the  unkindaeas  of  na- 
ture to  substitme.  Patches  were  invented  in  Engfawd  m 
the  reign  of  Edward  VI  by  a  foreign  lady,  who  in  ihia 
manner  ingeniously  covered  a  wen  on  her  neck.  VHien 
the  Spectator  wrote,  full-boitomed  wigs  were  iavenled  ky 
a  French  barber,  one  Duviller,  whose  name  they  perpeto* 
ated,  for  the  purpose  of  cooceaUag  an  elevation  in  tba 
ahouUer  of  the  Dauphin.  Gharlea  Vll  of  France  intro- 
duced  long  coats  to  hide  his  iU-made  legs.  Shoes  with 
very  king  points,  full  two  feet  in  length,  were  invented  by 
Henry  Plantagenet  Duke  of  Aniou,  to  conceal  a  large  ex« 
crescenoe  on  one  of  his  feet.  When  Fraacia  I  was  obli^ 
ed  to  wear  hb  short  hair,  owing  lo  a  wound  be  received  m 
bis  head,  it  became  a  prevailing  lashion  at  court,  Oiherv 
on  the  contrary  adapted  fashions  to  set  off  their  peculiar 
beauties,  as  IsabeUa  of  Bavaria,  remarkable  for  her  gaUan- 
try,  and  the  feimess  of  her  complexion,  introduced  tbe 
fashion  of  leaving  the  shouUers  and  part  of  the  neck  on- 

Fashions  have  fi^oently  originated  from  drcumstanoea 
as  silly  as  the  following  one.  fsabelbt,  daughter  of  Phil^ 
11,  and  wife  of  the  Arehduke  Albert,  vowed  not  to  changa 
her  linen  till  Ostend  was  taken ;  this  siege,  unluckily  fcr 
her  comfort,  lasted  three  years ;  and  the  supposed  coloor 
of  the  archduchess's  linen  gave  rise  to  a  fadiionabte  colour, 
hence  called ^'/s6ea«,  or  Um  Isabella;  a  kind  of  whitisb- 
yellowMiingy.  Or  sometimes  they  originate  in  some  ten>- 
porary  event ;  as  after  the  battle  of  Sleenkirk,  where  tha 
allies  wore  larve  cnvats,  by  which  the  French  freoueotly 
seized  hold  of  them,  a  circumstance  perpetuated  on  the  me- 
dals of  Louis  XIV,  cravaU  were  called  Sieenkirks;  and  af> 
ter  the  battle  of  Ramillies,  wigs  received  that  denomination. 

Tbe  eouf<  in  all  ages  and  in  every  country  are  the 
deilers  i^  fashions,  so  that  all  the  ridioile,  of  vi^iich  th« 
are  so  susceptible,  must  fall  on  them,  and  not  upon  their 
servile  imitators  the  eatueas.  This  complaint  is  mada 
even  so  &r  back  as  in  1586,  by  Jean  des  Gaures,  an  old 
French  moralist,  who,  in  declaiming  against  the  feshiona 
of  his  day,  notices  one,  of  the  ladies  carrving  nurrers  /Ccsd 
to  their  wauta,  which  seemed  to  employ  their  eyes  in  per- 

Ktual  activity.  From  this  mode  will  result,  according  to 
nest  Des  Caures,  their  eternal  danmation.  *  Alas  (ha 
exclaims,)  in  what  an  age  do  we  live  ;  to  see  such  depravi- 
U  which  we  see,  that  induces  them  even  to  bring  into 
church  these  $eandalouM  mirrors  hangimg  ahmU  their  wcnsf .' 
Let  all  histories  divine,  human,  and  profane  be  consulted  ; 
never  will  it  be  found  that  these  objects  of  vanity  were  ever 
thus  brought  into  public  by  the  most  meretricious  of  the  sex. 
It  is  trae,  at  present  none  but  the  ladies  of  the  court  venture 
to  wear  them ;  but  long  it  will  not  be  bcCire  every  ctdzca's 
daughter,  and  every  female  eervant,  will  wear  them  !*  Such 
in  all  times  has  been  the  rise  and  decline  of  fashion ;  and 
the  abaurd  mimicry  of  the  dtixeHM,  even  of  the  lowf«t  clas- 
ses, to  their  very  rain,  in  straining  to  ri^  tha  mewed 
/asAa9n,has  mortified  and  galled  the  courtier. 

On  this  subiect  old  Camden,  in  his  remains,  relates  a 
story  <^a  trick  played  off  on  a  citizni,  which  I  give  in  the 
plainness  of  his  own  venerable  style.  <  Sir  Philip  Calthrop, 
purged  John  Drakes,  the  Aoemaher  t^  JVbnoidi,  in  ihe 
time  of  King  Henry  VIII,  of  the  jiroiui  Awnow  which  our 
peaftUhaoetuheof^gentUmaaCecia^  This  knight  bought 
on  a  time  as  much  fine  French  lawny  doth  as  shouM  make 
him  a  gown,  and  sent  it  to  the  tailor's  to  be  made.  John 
Drakes,  a  shoemaker  of  that  town,  cominz  to  this  said  tai- 
lor's, and  seeing  the  knight's  gown  cloth  laying  there,  lik- 
in2  it  well,  caused  the  tailor  to  buy  him  as  mndi  of  the 
same  cloth  and  |>rice  to  the  same  extent,  and  further  bade 
him  to  make  it  of  the  eame  faahioH,  that  the  hught  would 
have  kit  made  of.  Not  long  after,  the  knight  coming  to 
the  tapir's  to  take  the  measure  of  his  gown,  peroeiving  the 
like  cloth  lying  there,  asked  of  the  tailor  whose  it  wan  7 
duoth  the  tauor,  it  is  John  Drakes  the  ghxmaker,  who 
I  will  have  it  made  of  the  to^f-eamefnahiom  that  yefme  is  made 



Hf!  "Wen!"  said  the  knicht,  'Md  good  time  be  it!  I 
will  have  mine  made  ai  fituofeuU  a»  the  ihean  can  make 
U"  "  It  shall  be  done !"  said  the  tailor ;  whereupon,  be- 
cause the  time  drew  near,  he  made  haste  to  6nish  both 
their  garments.  John  Drakes  had  no  time  to  go  to  the 
tajlor's  till  Christmas  dav>  for  serring  his  castomers,  when 
he  hoped  to  hare  worn  nis  gown ;  perceiving  the  same  to 
be  fuU  ofeutMt  began  to  swear  at  the  tailor,  for  the  making 
his  gown  after  that  sort.  *'  I  have  done  nothing,"  quoth 
the  tailor,  "  but  that  you  bid  me,  for  as  Sir  Philip  Cal- 
thorp's  garment  is,  even  so  have  I  made  yours !"  "  By 
my  latehet !"  quoth  John  Drakes,  *'  /  tmll  never  wear  gen^ 
Uenun^efaahionM  agcdnj^ ' 

Sometimes  fashions  are  quite  reyersed  iii  their  use  in 
one  age  from  another.  Bags,  when  first  in  fashiui  in 
France,  were  only  worn  en  diehabille;  in  visits  of  ceremo- 
ny, the  hair  was  tied  by  a  riband  and  floated  over  the 
moulders,  which  is  exactly  reversed  in  the  present  fashion. 
In  the  year  17S5  the  men  had  no  hats  but  a  little  chapeau 
de  bras ;  in  1745  ihey  wore  a  very  small  hat ;  in  1755  they 
wore  an  enormous  one,  as  may  be  seen  in  Jeffrey's  curi- 
ous '  Collection  of  Habits  in  all  Nations.'  Old  Putten- 
ham,  in  his  very  rare  work,  *  The  Arts  of  Poesie,'  p.  239, 
on  the  present  topic  gives  some  curious  information. 
*  Henry  VI fl  caused  his  own  head,  and  all  his  courtiers 
to  be  polled  J  and  his  beard  to  be  cut  short ;  before  that  time 
it  was  thought  more  decent,  both  for  old  men  and  young,  to 
be  ail  ahaoen,  and  wear  long  haire,  either  roundea  or 
square.  Now  again  at  thie  time  (Elizabeth's  reign,)  the 
young  gentlemen  of  the  court  have  taken  up  the  king  haire 
trayling  on  their  shoulders,  and  think  this  more  decent ; 
for  what  respect  I  would  be  glad  to  know.' 

When  the  fair  sex  were  accustomed  to  behold  their  lov- 
ers with  beards,  the  sight  of  a  shaved  chin  ''xcited  feelings 
of  horror  and  aversion ;  as  much  indeed  as,  in  this  less 
heroic  age,  would  a  gallant  whose  luxurious  beard  shouki 

'  Stream  like  a  meteor  to  the  troubled  air.* 

When  Louis  Vn,to  obey  the  injunctions  of  his  bishops, 
cropped  his  hair,  and  shavM  his  beard,  Eleanor,  his  con- 
sort, found  him,  with  this  unusual  appearance,  very  ridicu- 
lous, and  soon  yery  contemptible.  She  revenged  herself 
as  she  thought  proper,  and  the  poor  shaved  kmg  obtained 
a  divorce.  She  then  married  the  Count  of  Anjou,  after- 
wards our  Henry  II.  She  had  for  her  marriage  dower 
the  rich  provinces  of  Poitou  and  Ghiyenne ,  ana  this  was 
the  origin  of  those  wars  which  for  three  hundred  years 
ravaged  France,  and  cost  the  French  three  millions  of 
men.  All  which,  probably,  had  never  occurred,  had 
Louis  Vn  not  been  so  rash  as  to  crop  his  head  and  shave 
his  beard,  by  which  he  became  so  disgustful  in  the  eyes  of 
our  Q,ueen  Eleanor. 

We  cannot  perhaps  S3rmpathize  with  the  feelings  of  her 
majesty,  though  at  Cunslantinople  she  might  not  have 
been  considered  quite  unreasonable.  There  must  be  some- 
thing more  powerful  in  beards  and  muMtadune  than  we  are 
quite  aware  of;  for  when  these  were  in  fashion,  with  what 
enthusiasm  were  they  not  contemplated !  When  imtsto- 
chna  were  in  general  use,  an  author,  in  his  Elements  of 
Education,  published  in  1640,  thinks  that  *  hairy  Excre- 
menl,'  as  Armado  in  *  Love's  Labour  Lost'  calls  it,  con- 
tributed to  make  men  yalorous.  He  says,  *  I  have  a  fa- 
yourable  opinion  of  that  young  gentleman  who  is  euriouM 
in  fine  mvataehou.  The  time  he  employs  in  adjusting, 
dressing,  and  curling  them,  is  no  lost  time ;  for  the  more 
he  contemplates  his  roustachois,  the  more  his  mind  will 
cherish,  and  be  animated  by  masculine  and  courageous 
notions.  The  best  reason  that  could  be  given  for  wearing 
the  longest  and  largest  beard  of  any  Englishman,  was  that 
of  a  worthy  clergyman  in  Elizabeth's  reign,  *  that  no  act 
of  his  life  might  be  unworthy  <^  the  gravity  of  his  appear- 

The  grandfather  of  the  Mrs  Thomas,  the  Corinna  of 
Cromwell,  the  literary  friend  of  Pope,  by  her  account, 
'  was  very  nice  in  the  mode  of  that  age,  his  valet  being 
some  hours  every  morning  in  starting  his  beard,  and  curl^ 
ing  his  vhiskers ;  during  which  time  he  was  always  read 
to.'  Taylor,  the  water  poet,  humorously  describes  the 
great  variety  of  beards  in  his  time,  which  extract  may  be 
found  in  Grey's  Hudibras,  Vol.  I,  p.  SOO.  The  beetrdi 
■ays  Granger,  dwindled  gradually  under  the  two  Charles's, 
till  it  was  reduced  into  wkukers,  and  became  extinct  in  the 
reign  of  James  II,  as  if  its  fatality  had  been  connected 
with  that  of  the  house  of  Stuart. 

The  hair  has  in  all  ages  been  an  endleai  topic  of  the 

declamation  of  the  moralist,  and  the  favourite  object  of 
fashion.  If  the  beau  monde  wore  their  hair  luxuriant,  or 
their  wig  enormous,  the  preachers,  as  in  Charles  the  Se- 
cond's reign,  instantly  were  seen  in  the  pulpit  with  ihetr 
hair  cut  shorter,  and  their  sermon  longer,  in  consequence ; 
respect  was  however  paid  by  the  world  to  the  size  of  the 
ung,  in  spite  of  the  haxr-cutter  in  the  pulpit.  Our  judges, 
and  tin  lately  our  physicians,  well  knew  its  magical  eflfect. 
In  the  reign  of  Charles  11  the  hair-dress  of  the  ladies  was 
yery  elaborate ;  it  was  not  only  curled  and  frizzed  with  the 
nicest  art,  but  set  off  with  certain  artificial  curls,  then  too 
emphatically  known  by  the  pathetic  term  of  heart-breakers 
and  love-ioeks.  So  late  as  William  and  Mary,  lads,  and 
even  children  wore  wigs ;  and  if  they  had  not  wigs,  they 
curled  their  hair  to  resemble  this  fashionri>le  ornament. 
Women  then  were  the  hair-dressers. 

It  is  obaeryed  by  the  lively  Yigneul  de  Marville,  that 
there  are  flagrant  follies  in  fashion  which  must  be  endured 
while  they  reign,  and  which  neyer  appear  ridiculous  till 
they  are  out  of  fashion.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  III  of 
France,  they  could  not  exist  without  an  abundant  use  of 
comfits.  All  the  world,  the  grave  and  the  gay,  carried 
in  their  pocket  a  eoo^bo9  as  we  do  snuff-boxes.  They 
used  them  even  on  the  most  solemn  occasions :  when  the 
Duke  of  Guise  was  shot  at  Blois,  he  was  found  with  hia 
comfit-box  in  his  hand.  Fashions  indeed  have  been  car- 
ried to  so  extravagant  a  length  as  to  have  become  a  public 
offence,  and  to  have  reouired  the  interference  of  govern- 
ment. Short  and  tight  nreeches  were  so  much  the  rage 
in  France,  that  Charles  Y  was  compelled  to  banish  thia 
disgusting  mode  by  edicts  which  may  be  found  in  Meze- 
ray.  An  Italian  author  of  the  fifteenth  century  supposes 
an  Italian  traveller  of  nice  modesty  would  not  pass  tbrou^ 
France,  that  he  might  not  be  offended  by  seeing  men 
whose  clothes  rather  exposed  their  nakedness  than  hid  it. 
It  is  ciirious  that  the  very  same  fashion  was  the  com- 
plaint in  the  remoter  period  of  our  Chaucer,  in  his  Par- 
son's Tales. 

In  the  reign  of  our  Elizabeth  the  reverse  of  all  this  took 
place ;  then  the  mode  of  enormous  breeches  was  pushed 
to  a  most  laughable  excess.    The  beaus  of  that  day  stuff* 
ed  out  their  breeches  with  rags,  feathers,  and  other  light 
inatters,  till  they  brought  them  out  to  a  most  enormooa 
size.    They  resembled  wool-sacks,  and  in  a  public  spec- 
tacle, they  were  obliged  to  raise  scaffolds  for  the  seats  of 
those  ponderous  beaus.    To  accord  with  this  fantastical 
taste  the  ladies  invented  large  hoop  farthingales.     Two 
lovers  aside  could  surely  never  have  taken  one  another  by 
the  hand.    In  a  precedmg  reign  the  fashion  ran  on  squar»> 
toes ;  insomuch  that  a  proclamation  was  issued  that  no 
person  should  wear  shoes  above  six  inches  square  at  the 
toes !    Then  succeeded  picked-pointed  shoes  1    The  na- 
tion was  again,  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  put  under  the 
royal  authority.    <  In  that  time,'  says  honest  John  Stowo, 
*  he  was  held  the  greatest  gallant  that  had  the  deeper 
imffe  and  longest  raxner:  the  offence  to  the  eye  of  the  one 
and  hurt  unto  the  lire  of  the  subject  that  come'by  the  other : 
this  caused  her  Mnjestie  to  make  proclamation  against 
them  bothf  and  to  pteie  sdected  grave  citizens  at  every  gate^ 
to  cut  the  rtiffiSf  and  break  the  rapier  points  of  all  passen- 
gers that  exceeded  a  yeard  in  length  of  their  rapiers,  and 
a  nayle  of  a  yeard  in  depth  of  their  ruffes.'    These  *  grave 
citizens,'  at  every  gate  catting  the  ruffes  and  breaking  the 
rapiers,  must  doubtless  have  encountered  in  their  ludicrous 
employment  some  stubborn  opposition;  but  this  regula** 
tion  was,  in  the  spirit  of  that  age,  despotic  and  effectual. 
The  late  Emperor  of  Rusfda  ordered  the  soldiers  to  stop 
every  passenger  who  wore  pantaloons,  and  with  their 
hangers  to  cut  off,  upon  the  leg,  the  offending  part  of  these 
superfluous  breeches;   so  that  a  man's  legs  depended 
greatly  on  the  adroitness  and  humanity  of  a  Rubs  or  a 
Cossack ;  however  this  war  ajfainst  pantaloons  was  very 
successful,  and  obtained  a  complete  triumph  in  favour  of 
the  breedus  in  the  course  of  the  week. 

A  shameful  eztrayagance  in  dress  has  been  a  most  ye- 
nerable  folly.  In  the  reign  of  Richard  11,  their  dress  waa 
sumptuous  oeyond  belief.  Sir  John  Arundel  had  a  change 
of  no  less  than  52  new  suits  of  cloth  of  gold  tissue.  The 
prelates  indulged  in  all  the  ostentatious  luxury  of  dress. 
Chaucer  says,  they  had  *  chaunge  of  clothing  eyerie  daie. 
Brantome  records  of  Elizabeth,  dueen  of  Philip  IT,  of 
Spain,  that  she  never  wore  a  gown  twice ;  this  was  told  him 
by  her  majesty's  own  fatZtmr,  who  from  a  poor  man  soon 
became  as  rich  as  any  one  he  knew.  Our  own  Elisabeth 
left  no  lees  than  three  thousand  different  habits  in  her  ward- 



gobe  when  she  disd.  She  was  poeseflsed  of  the  dreasei  of 
idl  countries. 

The  catholic  religion  has  ever  considered  the  pomp  of 
the  clerical  habit  as  not  the  iritffhteat  part  of  tta  religious 
eeremomes ;  their  devotion  is  addressed  to  the  eye  or  the 
people.  In  the  reign  of  oar  catholic  Ctoeen  Mary,  the 
dress  of  a  priest  was  oostlj  indeed ;  and  the  sarcastic  and 
good4innioared  Fuller  gives,  in  his  Worthies,  the  will  of 
a  priest,  to  show  the  wardrobe  of  men  of  his  order,  and 
desires  that  the  priest  may  not  be  jeered  for  the  gallantiT 
of  ^s  splendid  apparel.  He  bequeaths  to  various  parisft 
churches  and  persons,  *  My  vestment  of  crimson  satin— 
my  vestment  of  crimson  velvet^-4ny  stole  and  fanon  set 
with  pearl—Hny  black  gown  faced  with  taffeta,  &c.' 

Chaucer  has  minutely  detailed  in  *  The  Persone's  Tale,' 
the  grotesque  and  the  costly  fashions  of  his  day :  and  the 
simplicity  of  the  venerable  satirist  will  interest  the  anti- 

Suary  and  the  philosopher.  Much,  and  curiously,  have 
is  caustic  severity  or  lenient  humour  descanted  on  the 
*  moche  superfluitee,'  and  *  wast  of  cloth  in  vanitee,'  as 
well  as  *  the  disordinate  seantnesse.'  In  the  spirit  of  the 
good  old  times  he  calculates  *  the  costs  of  the  embrouding 
or  embroidering;  endenting  or  baring;  ounding  or  wavv; 
paling  or  imitating  pales;  and  winding  or  bending;  tne 
eostlewe  farring  in  the  gounes;  so  much  pounsouing  of 
ehesel  to  maken  holes  (that  is  punched  with  a  bodkin ;)  so 
moche  dagging  of  sheres  (cuttwg  into  slips ;)  with  thesu- 
perfluitee  m  lensih  of  the  gounes  tratlmg  in  the  dong  and 
m  the  myre,  on  norse  and  eke  on  foot,  as  wel  of  man  as  of 
woman— that  all  thilke  trailing,'  be  verily  believes,  which 
wastes,  consumes,  wears  threadbare,  and  is  rotten  with 
dong,  are  all  to  the  damage  of  *  the  poor  folk,'  who  might 
be  dothed  only  out  of  the  flounces  and  draggle4ail8  of 
diese  children  of  vanity.  But  then  his  Parson  is  not  less 
bitter  against  *  the  horrible  diaordiniU  seantnesse  of  cloth- 
ing/ and  very  copiously  he  describes,  though  perhaps  in 
terms,  and  with  a  humour  too  coarse  tor  me  to  transcribe, 
the  consequences  of  these  very  tight  dresses.  Or  these 
persons,  among  other  offensive  matters,  he  sees  *  the  but- 
tokkes  behind  as  if  they  were  the  hinder  part  of  a  sheape 
in  the  ful  of  the  mone.'  He  notices  one  of  the  most  gro- 
tesque of  all  modes ;  that  one  they  then  had  of  wearing  a 
pani*eok>ored  dress ;  one  stocking,  part  white  and  part 
red ;  so  that  they  looked  as  if  they  bad  been  flayed ;  or 
white  and  blue ;  or  white  and  bladt :  or  black  and  red ; 
that  this  varietv  of  colours  seems  as  if  their  members  had 
been  corrupted  by  St  Anthony's  fire,  or  by  cancer,  or 
other  mischance ! 

The  modes  of  dress  during  the  thirteenth  and  four- 
teenth centuries  were  so  various  and  ridiculous,  that  they 
afforded  perpetual  food  for  the  eager  satirist.  Extrava- 
gant as  some  of  our  fashions  are,  they  are  regulated  by 
a  better  taste. 

The  conquests  of  Bdward  III  introduced  the  French 
fashions  into  England ;  and  the  Scotch  adopted  them  by 
their  alliances  with  the  French  court,  and  close  intercourse 
with  that  nation. 

Walsingbam  dates  the  introduction  of  Frendi  fashions 
smong  us,  from  the  taking  of  Calais  in  1347 ;  bat  we  ap- 
pear to  have  possessed  such  a  rage  for  imitation  in  dress, 
that  an  English  beau  was  actually  a  fantastical  compound 
of  all  the  fashions  of  Europe,  ana  even  Asia,  in  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth.  In  Chaucers  time  the  prevalence  of  French 
fashions  was  a  common  topic  with  our  satirist ;  and  he  no- 
tices the  affectation  of  oor  female  citizens  in  speaking  the 
French  language :  a  stroke  of  satire  which,  alter  more 
than  four  centuries,  is  not  yet  obsolete.  A  superior  edu- 
cation, and  a  reskience  at  the  west  end  of  the  town,  begin 
however,  to  give  another  character  to  the  daughters  of 
oilr  citizens.  In  the  prologue  to  the  Prioresse,  Chaucer 
has  these  humorous  tines  :— 

Eniewned  In  her  vofce  full  seemly. 
And  French  she  nake  Aill  feteoutiy ; 
After  the  Scole  of  Stratfonl  st  Bowo, 
The  French  of  Paris  was  to  her  unkoowe. 

A  bean  of  the  reign  of  Henry  IV  has  been  made  out  by 
die  laborious  Henry.  I  shall  only  observe,  that  they  wore 
then  longHiointed  shoes  to  such  an  immoderate  lenpi,  that 
thev  could  not  walk  tih  they  were  fastened  to  theur  knees 
Witn  diains.  Luxury  improving  on  this  ridiculous  mode, 
these  chains  the  English  bean  of  the  fourteenth  century 
had  made  of  gokl  and  silver ;  hot  the  grotesque  fiishion  did 
Bot  flnish  here ;  for  the  tops  of  their  shoes  were  carved  in 

the  manner  of  a  church  window.    The  ladies  of  that  pe> 
riod  were  not  less  fantastical. 

The  wild  variety  of  dresses  worn  m  the  reign  of  Hcnr^ 
VlII,  is  alluded  to  in  a  print  of  a  naked  Engfishman  bolt- 
ing a  piece  or  cloth  hanging  on  his  right  arm,  and  a  pair  of 
shears  in  his  left  nand.  It  was  mventeil  1^  Andrew 
fiorde^  a  facetious  wit  of  those  days.  The  print  bears  th» 
followmg  inscription  :— 

I  am  an  EngUsbmao,  and  naked  1  stand  bars, 
Musing  In  my  mind,  what  rayment  I  shall  were ; 
For  now  I  will  were  this,  sou  now  I  will  were  Uist, 
And  now  I  will  were,  whel  I  cannot  tell  what. 

At  a  lower  period,  about  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  we  ara 
presented  with  a  curious  picture  oC  a  man  ^  fkfiiion.  I 
make  this  extract  from  Puttenham's  very  scarce  work  Oft 
The  Art  of  Poetry,  p.  S60.  This  author  was  a  travelled 
courtier,  and  has  interspersed  his  curious  work  with  many 
lively  anecdotes,  and  correct  pictures  of  the  times.^Thtt 
is  his  fantastical  beau  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  '  May  it 
not  seeme  enough  for  a  courtier  to  know  how  to  wtart  a 
ftmker  and  vH  hn»  mpt  aflaunt ;  hii  dvain  en  tekarpe ;  a 
straight  6ttalcin,  td  Inglue ;  a  loose  a  la  Twqtuaqut ;  tha 
cape  aUa  Spamota;  the  breech  a  ta  Acn^ois,  and  by 
twentie  maner  of  new^ashioned  garments,  to  disguise  hm 
body  and  bis  face  with  as  many  countenances,  wEereof  it 
seems  there  be  roanv  that  make  a  very  arte  and  studie, 
who  can  show  himseife  most  fine,  I  will  not  say  most  foot* 
ish  or  ridiculous.'  So  that  a  beau  of  those  times  wore  in 
the  same  dress  a  grotesque  mixture  of  all  the  fashbns  in 
the  worid.  About  the  same  period  the  isa  ran  in  a  diffe> 
rent  course  in  France.  There,  fashion  consisted  in  an 
affected  nei^igence  of  dress ;  for  Montaigne  honestly  la- 
ments in  Book  i,  Cap.  25--^  I  have  never  yet  been  apt  to 
imitate  the  negligent  garb  which  is  yet  observable  among 
the  ifoung  men  of  our  time ;  to  wear  my  doak  on  out  s^eiil- 
der,  my  bonnet  on  one  tide,  and  one  ttoeking  in  something 
mors  dttorder  than  the  other,  meant  to  express  a  manly  dia- 
dain  of  such  exotic  ornaments,  and  a  contempt  of  art.' 

The  fashions  of  the  Elizabethan  age  have  been  chroni- 
cled by  honest  John  Stowe.  Stowe  was  originaJly  a  tailor 
and  when  he  laid  down  the  shears  and  tomt  up  tbepen, 
the  taste  and  curiosity  for  dress  was  still  retained.  He  is 
the  grave  chronicler  of  ousters  not  grave.  The  chrono)^ 
sy  of  ruffs,  and  tufted  tattetas ;  the  revolution  of  steel  p»» 
king-eticks,  instead  of  the  bono  or  wood  used  by  the  laun- 
dresses ;  the  invasion  of  shoe  buckles,  and  the  total  rout 
of  shoe  roses ;  that  grand  adventure  of  a  certain  Flemish 
lady,  who  introduced  the  art  of  starching  the  raffs  with 
a  yellow  tinge  into  Britain ;  while  Mrs  Mountague  emu* 
lated  her  in  the  royal  Tavour,  by  proftenting  her  highness 
the  queen  with  a  pair  of  black*  adk  stockings,  instead  of 
her  cloth  hose,  which  her  majesty  now  forever  rejected ; 
the  heroic  adiievements  of  tne  Right  Honourable  Ed* 
ward  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford,  who  first  brought  from 
Italy  the  whole  mystery  and  craft  of  perfimiery,  and  costly 
washea ;  and  among  other  pleasant  things  besides,  a  pei^ 
fumed  jerkin,  a  pair  of  peri\mied  gloves  trimmed  with 
roses,  in  which  the  queen  took  such  delight,  that  she  waa 
actually  pictured  with  those  gloves  on  her  royal  hands,  and 
for  many  years  aAer,  the  scent  was  called  the  Bart  of  Ox- 
ford's Perfume.  These,  and  other  occurrenoes  as  meow- 
rable,  receive  a  pwleasaot  kind  of  historteal  pomp  in  theian* 
portant,  and  not  incurious,  narrative  of  the  anoqoary  and 
the  tailor.  The  toilet  of  Elizabeth  was  indeed  an  altar  at 
devotion,  of  which  she  was  the  idd,  and  all  her  miaitten 
were  her  votaries ;  it  was  the  reign  of  eoquetty,  and  th* 

gdden  aae  of  millinery !  But  ot*  grace  and  elfigajwe,  thay 
ad  not  the  sUghtest  feeling !  There  is  a  prim  by  Vertua, 
of  dueen  Elizabeth  going  m  a  proeeasion  to  Lord  Hub^ 
don.  This  procession  is  led  by  Lady  HuMdon,  who  na 
doubt  was  the  leader  likewlsa  of  the  ftshions ;  Jmi  it  b 
impossible,  with  our  ideas  of  graee  and  ooeolbrt,  not  to 
commiserate  this  uafortunata  laioyi  whose  staadiag^p  wwa 
ruff,  rising  above  her  head ;  whose  stays  or  boddica,  ao 
long  waisted  as  lo  reach  to  bar  kne«s,  and  the  dfcumfec^ 
enoe  of  her  largo  hoop  farthingale,  wmch  seems  to  eotkwa 
her  in  a  eapaaoos  tub,  mark  ner  out  ac  one  of  the  ssost 
mUaMe  martyf*  of  ancient  nodea.  The  amoroos  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  must  have  fo«nd  some  of  her  aaidls  nf 
honour  the  most  impregnable  fortificatioa  km  g^aat  s|HriK 
ever  assailed :  a  oeiip  <b  mem  waa  impossible. 

I  shall  traaaoribe  from  eld  Stowe  a  Tew  azitacu,  wtUdi 
may  amuse  the  reader : 

*  In  the  second  yeere  of  Qnnen  Elizabeth  15dO,  her 



Mwtrifl  Mountagua,  preeented  her  maJestM  | 
«re's  sift,  a  pair*  djT  blaek  jift  knit  tMemg»y 


fi>r  a  new  ya«re  .         . 

th«  which,  after  a  few  days  weaniif ,  pleaaed  her  faighnesa 
■o  well,  that  ahe  sent  for  Mistrie  Moantafue,  and  asked 
her  where  she  had  them,  and  if  she  could  oelp  her  to  any 
niore,  who  answered,  "I  made  them  very  carefully  of 
purpoee  only  for  voor  maiestie,  and  seeing  these  pImm 
you  so  well,  I  will  presently  set  more  in  hand."    "  Do  so^ 
(quoth  the  queene,)  for  tntfssd  /  like  MUk»  ttoekingt  so  welL 
beemuae  thejf  areplMttaU,  HtUjOnd  deiieole,  that  hmetforth  I 
wiU  wear  no  more  cloth  stockim^'— and  from  that  time  unto 
her  death  the  oueene  never  wore  any  more  doth  hooe,  but 
only  silke  stoMins ;  for  you  shall  understand  that  King 
Henry  the  Eight  did  weare  onely  cloth  hose,  or  hose  cut 
out  01  ell-broaide  taflaty,  or  that  by  great  chance  there 
came  a  pair  of  Spanitn  nOse  etoekine  from  Spain.    King 
Edward  the  Sizte  had  a  payre  of  long  Shnmieh  aiUseatoch' 
inge  sent  him  for  a  groatprStent.    Duke^  daughters  then 
wore  gowns  of  satten  or  Bridges  (Bruges)  upon  solemn 
dayes.    Cushens,  and  window  pillows  of  vrolvet  and  da- 
maske,  formerly  only  princely  furniture,  now  be  very  plen- 
teous in  most  atizens' houses.' 

*  Milloners  or  haberdashers  had  not  then  any  ^loMttm- 
broijfdered,  or  trimmed  with  gokl,  or  silke ;  neither  sold 
Bor  embroydered  girdles  and  hangers,  neither  could  thev 
make  anu  ooeAf  wah  or  perfume^  until  about  the  fifteenth 
yeere  or  the  queene,  the  Right  Honourable  Edward  de 
Vere,  Earl  or  Oxford,  came  from  Italv.  and  brought  with 
him  gloves,  sweete  baggee.  a  perfomeo  leather  jenin,  and 
other  pleasant  things ;  and  that  yeere  the  queene  had  a 
pair  of  perfumed  gloves  trimmed  onely  with  four  tufies,  or 
roses  of  coloured  silk.  The  <]ueene  trae  such  pleasure  in 
those  gloves,  that  she  was  pictured  with  those  poves  upon 
her  hmkleB,  and  for  many  vears  after,  it  was  called  "  The 
Earl  of  Oxford's  perfume.^ ' 

In  such  a  chronology  of  fashions,  an  event  not  less  im- 
portant surely,  was  the  origift  of  starching ;  and  here  we 
find  it  treated  with  the  utmost  historical  dignity. 

*  In  the  year  1564,  Mistris  Dinghen  "Van  den  Plasse, 
borne  at  Tmnen  in  Flaunders,  dau^ter  to  a  worshipful 
knight  of  that  province,  with  her  husband  came  to  London 
for  their  better  safeties,  and  there  professed  herselfe  a 
atareher,  wherein  ahe  escelled,imto  whom  her  owne  nation 
presently  repaired,  and  payed  her  very  liberally  for  her 
worke.  Some  very  few  of  the  best  and  most  curious 
wives  of  that  time,  observing  the  neatness  and  delicacy  of 
the  Dutch  for  whitmiess  and  fine  wearing  of  linen,  made 
them  cambrieke  ruffes,  and  sent  them  to  Mistris  Dinghen 
to  starche,  and  after  awhile  they  made  them  ruffes  of  lawn, 
which  was  at  that  time  a  stuff  roost  strange,  and  wonder- 
lull,  and  thereupon  arose  a  general  seoffe  or  by-word,  that 
riiortly  they  woukl  make  ruffes  of  a  spider's  web;  and  then 
they  began  to  send  their  daughters  and  nearest  kinswomen 
to  Mistris  Dinghen  to  leame  how  to  starche ;  her  usuall 
price  was  at  that  time,  foure  or  five  pound,  to  teach  them 
Iftow  to  starche,  and  twenty  shillings  how  to  seeth  starche.' 

Thus  Italy,  Holland,  and  France,  supplied  us  with 
such  fashions  and  refinements.  But  in  those  days  they 
were,  as  I  have  shown  from  Pottenham,  as  extravagant 
dressers  as  any  of  their  present  supposed  degenerate  de- 
aeeadanis.  Stowe  affords  us  another  curious  extract. 
*  Divers  noUe  personages  made  them  ruffes,  a  full  quarter 
ofa  yearde  deepe,  amftwo  lengthe  in  one  ruffe.  This  fa- 
^on  in  London  was  called  the  French  fashion :  but  when 
Engtishmen  came  to  Paris  the  French  knew  it  not,  and  in 
dension  called  it  the  English  nsonster.'  An  exact  parallel 
this  of  many  of  our  own  Parisian  modes  in  the  present 
day ;  and  a  circumstance  which  shows  the  same  rivatity 
in  fashion  in  the  reign  of  Eliabeth,  as  in  that  of  Oeorge 
the  Fourth. 

This  was«the  golden  period  of  cosmetics.  The  beaux 
of  that  dav,  it  is  evident,  used  the  aborotnable  art  of  paint- 
ing their  faces  as  well  as  the  women.  Our  old  comedies 
abound  with  perpetual  allusions  to  oils,  tinctures,  quint- 
essencuB,  pomatum*,  perfumes,  paint,  white  and  red,  Ite. 
One  of  their  prime  cosmetics  was  a  frequent  use  of  the 
bath,  and  the  application  of  wine.  Strati  quotes  from  an 
old  MS  a  recipe  to  make  the  fece  of  a  beantnul  red  colour. 
The  person  was  to  be  in  a  bath  that  he  might  perspire, 
and  afterwards  wash  his  face  with  wine,  and  <  so  should 
be  both  fairs  and  roddv.'  In  Mr  Lodge's  <  IlluslratioBS  of 
British  History,'  I  observe  a  letter  from  the  Eari  of 
Wwewsbury,  who  had  the  keeping  of  the  imlbrtimate 
Queen  of  Scots.  The  earl  notices  that  the  queen  bathed 
IB  wian,  aad  coopliiBp  oftha  espiMei  aod  raqnirat  a  fur* 

ther  aUowanoe.  A  learned  Scotch  professor  infomtd 
me,  <m  my  pointing  out  thispassase,  that  white  wine  was 
used  f9r  these  purpoees.  Tney  sliMimade  abath  of  milk. 
EMer  beauties  bathed  in  wine,  to  get  rid  of  their  wrinkles  ; 
and  perhaps  not  without  reason,  wme  being  a  great  astrii»> 
gent.  Oawrinkled  beauties  bathed  in  milk,  topreaerva 
thesofbess  and  sleekness  of  the  skin.  Our  venerabb 
beauties  of  the  Elizabethan  age  were  initialed  coquette* ; 
aiid  the  mysteries  of  their  toilette  might  be  worth  unveil- 

The  reign  of  Charles  II  was  the  dominion  of  French 
fashions.  In  sooae  respects  the  taste  was  a  little  lighter, 
but  the  moral  effect  of  dress,  and  which-  nodoubt  it  has, 
was  much  worse.  The  dress  of  this  French  queen  waa 
very  inAimmatory ;  and  the  midity  of  the  beauties  of  iha 
portrait  painter.  Sir  Peter  Lely,  has  been  obeerved.  The 
queen  or  Charles  II  exposed  her  breast  and  shoulders  with- 
out even  the  glam  of  the  lighteat  gause ;  and  the  tucker 
matead  of  atanding  up  on  her  boeom,  is  with  liceniioni 
boMness  turned  down,  and  lies  upon  her  stays.  This  cu»i 
torn  of  baring  the  boeom  was  much  exclainied  against  by 
the  authors  of  that  age.  That  honest  divine,  Richard 
Baxter,  wrote  a  pre&ce  to  a  book,  entitled  *  A  just  and 
seasonable  reprenension  of  naked  breasts  and  shoulders.' 
In  167S  a  book  was  published,  entitled, '  New  instnictiona 
unto  ]routh  for  their  behaviour,  and  also  a  discourse  upon 
some  innovations  of  habits  and  dressing ;  against  powder- 
ing of  hair,  naked  breasts,  black  apota,  (orpatchea,)  and 
other  unseemly  cuatoma.'  A  whimsical  fasnion  now  pre- 
vailed among  the  ladies,  of  strangely  ornamenting  tneir 
faces  with  abundance  of  black  patches  cut  into  grotesque 
forms,  such  as  a  coach  and  horses,  owls,  rings,  sons, 
moons,  crowns,  cross  and  crosalets.  The  author  has  pre- 
fixed two  ladies'  heads ;  the  one  representmg  Virtue,  and 
the  other  Vice.  Virtue  is  a  lady  modestly  habited,  with 
a  black  velvet  hood,  and  plain  white  kerchief  on  her  neck, 
^th  a  border.  Vice  wears  no  handkerchief,  her  stays 
cut  low,  BO  that  they  display  great  part  of  the  breasts ;  and 
a  variety  of  fantastical  patches  on  her  face. 

The  mnovation  of  fashions  in  the  reign  of  Charles  11, 
were  watched  with  a  jealous  eye  by  the  remaina  of  those 
strict  puritans,  who  now  could  -only  pour  out  their  bile  In 
such  solemn  admonitions.      They  affected   all  possible 
plainneas  and  sanctity.    When  courtiers  wore  monstrous 
wigs,  they  cut  their  hair  short ;  when  they  adopted  hats, 
with  Inroad  (dumes,  they  dspped  on  round  black  caps,  and 
screwed  up  their  pale  religious  faces ;  and  when  ehoe- 
buckles  were  revived,  they  wore  strings  to  their  shoes. 
The  sublime  Milton,  perhaps,  exulted  in  his  intrepidity  of 
still  wearing  latchets  1    The  Tatler  ridicules  Sir  Willwm 
WhitlockefWr  his  singularity  in  still  affecting  them.  *  Thou 
dear  Will  Shoestring',  how  shall  I  draw  thee  ?  Thou  dear 
outside,  will  you  be  combing  vour  wii;,  playing  with  your 
box,  or  picking  your  teeth,  sc.    Wigs  and  snuff-boxes 
were  then  the  rage.    Steele'e  own  wis,  it  is  recorded 
made  at  one  time  a  considerable  part  of  hia  annual  expen- 
diture.   His  large  black  periwig  cost  him,  even  at  that 
day,  not  less  than  forty  guineas  !^We  wear  nothing  at 
present  in  this  degree  of  extravagance.    But  such  a  wig 
was  the  idol  of  fa^ion,  and  they  were  performing  perpet- 
ually their  worship  with  infmite  self-eoroplacency  ;    then 
conibing  their  wign  in  pobKc  was  the  very  spirit  of  gal- 
lantry and  rank.    The  hero  of  Richarrfson,  youthful  and 
elegant  as  he  wished  him  to  be,  is  represented  waiting  at 
an  assignation.and  describing  his  aofferings  in  bad  weather 
by  lamenting  that  <  his  wig  and  his  linen  were  dripping 
with  the  hov  frost  diasolvinff  on  them.'  Even  Betty,  Cla- 
rissa's lady's  maid,  is  described  as  <  tapping  on  her  snufl^ 
box,'  and  frequently  taking  snuff.    At  this  time  nothing 
was  so  monstrous  as  the  bead-dresses  of  the  ladies  in 
dueen  Anne's  reign ;   they  formed  a  kind  of  edifice  of 
three  stories  high ;  and  a  fashionable  lady  of  that  day 
much  resembles  the  mythological  figure  of  Cybelo,  too 
mother  of  the  gods,  with  three  towers  on  her  head. 

It  is  not  worth  noticing  the  changes  in  fashion,  unlen  to 
ridicule  them.  However,  there  are  some  who  find  amusa- 
ment  in  these  records  of  luxurious  idleness ;  these  thou- 
sand and  one  follies !  Modem  fashions,  till  very  lately  a 
purer  taste  has  obtained  among  our  females,  were  gene- 
rally mere  copies  of  obsolete  ones,  and  rarely  originally 
fantastical.  The  dreaa  of  aome  of  our  beaux  will  only  m 
known  in  a  few  yeara  hence  by  their  caricaturea.  In  1751 
the  droas  of  a  dmdy  ia  deacribed  in  the  Inapeclor.  A 
Uaek  velvet  coat,  a  grean  and  ailver  waistcoat,  yeHow  vel- 
vat  braachet,  tod  biae  itockhigs.    This  too  waa  tha  arm 


of  bladt  nik  bre«diM ;  an  eHraonliuMT  noroltj,  afaiut 
whidi  *  WMM  frow«y  pMple  attempted  to  rmoie  op  wonted 
in  emohitioo.'  A  mtincal  writer  hat  described  a  buck 
about  ibrtj  years  afo ;  ooa  coald  hardly  baf«  suspected 
such  a  gieotleman  to  have  been  one  of  our  conteBmoraries. 

"  for  toe  arms. 

*  A  coat  oTUi^t  ffreen,  with  sleeves  too  small  for 
and  buttons  too  big  for  the  sleeves ;  a  pair  of  Mancfaesier 
fine  stufi*  breeches,  without  money  in  the  podcets ;  elonded 
silk  stockings,  but  no  legs :  a  club  of  hair  behind  larger 
than  the  bead  thai  carries  it ;  a  hat  of  the  site  of  sixpence 
on  a  Mods  not  worth  a  iarthing.' 

As  this  artide  may  probably  arrest  the  volatile  eyes  of 
my  fair  readers,  let  me  be  permitted  to  lelidtate  them  on 
their  improvement  in  elegance  in  the  ibnns  of  their  dress ; 
and  the  t^e  and  knowledge  of  art  which  they  frequently 
tzbibit.  But  let  me  remind  them  that  there  are  certain 
principles  independent  of  all  fashions,  which  must  be  cher- 
ished at  all  times.  Tadtns  remarks  of  Poppea,  the  con- 
sort of  Nero,  that  she  concealed  a  part  of  her  faee ;  to  the 
end  that,  the  imaginatkm  having  niller  play  by  irritating 
curiosity,  they  micht  think  higher  of  her  beauty,  than  u 
the  whole  of  ner  nee  had  been  exposed.  The  sentinwnt 
IS  beautifully  expressed  by  Tasso,  and  it  will  not  be  diffi- 
cult to  remember  it »— > 

*  Non  oopre  sue  bellene,  e  non  Pespooe.' 

I  condude  fay  preserving  a  poem,  written  in  my  youth, 
not  onl^jT  because  the  great  poet  of  this  age  has  honoured  it 
by  pladog  it  in  <  The  Ensiish  Minstrel^,'  but  as  a  me- 
BKMial  of  some  fashions  which  have  become  extinct  in  my 
own  days. 


Juddtttttd  Is  £(mm,  snftim'm^  het  nsC  fo  x\bsiI,  fe  Jnwdtn 
or  to  Omm,  6i(l  te  rrfrsoC  mfo  Ms  Cbimlry. 
Ah,  Laura !  quit  the  noisy  town^ 

Aad  Fashion's  persecuting  reign ; 
Health  wanders  on  the  breezy  down, 
And  Sdence  on  the  silent  plain. 

How  long  from  Art's  reflected  hues 
Shalt  thou  a  mimic  charm  receive  ? 

Bdieve,  my  fair !  the  faithful  muse, 
They  spoil  the  blush  they  cannot  give. 

Must  ruthless  art,  with  torturous  stool, 

Thy  artless  kwks  of  goU  deface, 
In  serpent  folds  their  diarms  conceal, 

Ana  spoil,  at  every  touch,  a  grace. 

Too  sweet  thy  youth's  enchanting  bloom. 
To  waste  on  midnight's  sordid  crews : 

Let  wrinkled  ate  the  night  consume  : 
For  age  has  out  iu  hoards  to  lose ! 

Sacred  to  love  and  sweet  repose. 

Behold  that  trellis'd  bower  is  nigh! 
That  bower  the  lilac  walls  endose, 

Safe  from  pursuing  ScandaPs  ejfe. 
There,  as  in  every  lock  of  gold 

Some  flower  of  pleasing  hue  I  weave, 
A  goddess  shall  the  muse  behold. 

And  many  a  votive  sigh  shall  heave. 

So  the  rude  Tartar's  holy  rite 

A  feeble  mortal  once  array'd ; 
Then  trembled  in  that  mortal's  sight. 

And  own'd  divine  the  power  he  made.* 


In  a  book  intituled '  Inter6ts  et  MaxioMs  dee  Princes  et 
des  Etats  Souverains,  par  M.  Le  Due  de  Rohan;  Co- 
loipie,  1666,'  an  anecdote  is  recorded  concerning  the  Je- 
suits; so  much  the  more  curious,  as  neither  Puffendorf 
nor  Vertut  have  noticed  it  in  their  histories,  though  its  ao- 
thoritv  cannot  be  higher. 

When  Sigismond,  king  of  Sweden,  was  dected  king  of 
Pdand,  he  made  a  treaty  ^itb  the  states  of  Sweden,  fay 
which  be  obliged  himseli  to  pass  every  fifUi  year  in  that 
kingdom.  By  his  wars  with  me  Ottoman  court,  with  Mus- 
covy, and  Tartaiy,  obliged  to  remain  in  Poland  to  encoun- 
ter euch  powerful  enemies,  he  fiiiled,  during  6f\een  years, 
of  accomplishing  his  promise.  To  remedy  this  in  some 
shape,  by  the  advice  of  the  Jesuits,  who  had  gained  the 
aaocndaut  over  him,  he  created  a  senate  to  reside  at 

♦  The  Lama,  or  God  of  the  Tsrurs,  Is  composed  of  such 
fknll  msierlsis  sa  mere  morulity  i  contrived,  however,  by  the 
power  of  priesicrafk,  to  appear  Immoital ;  the  •ueresBfon  of 
Lames  never  fhiling ! 

Stodihdm,  composed  of  fertv  chonsn  jusuits,  to  < 
every  aflUr  of  state.    He  poblisbed  a  dcdaimiioa 
fkvour,  presented  them  with  leoers-patent,  ami 
them  wuh  the  royal  authority. 

While  this  senate  of  Jesuits  was  at  Dam 
a  fair  wind  to  set  sail  for  Stockholm,  he  puhlishod  an 
that  they  should  receive  them  as  his  own  royal  pen 
public  conndl  was  inwwdiate^  hdd.  GharKS,  tho  i 
Sigiemond,  the  prelaies,  and  the  lords,  leadvod  lo 
for  them  a  splendid  and  nsagnifioent  entry. 

But  in  a  private  council,  ihey  came  to  very  continiy 
reodmions :  for  the  prince  said,  he  ooold  not  bear  ihnt  a 
senato  of  priests  should  oommand,  inprefersnee  to  all  llie 
honoois  and  authority  of  so  many  prmoes  and  lords,  ■■• 
tives  of  the  country.  All  the  otMrs  agreed  wiA  ham  m 
rejectinf  this  holy  senate.  The  archbishop  roee,  nnd 
said,  *  Since  Sigismond  has  disdained  to  be  our  kiag,  wo 
also  mnst  not  acknowledge  him  as  sncb ;  ami  from  tkis 
moment  we  should  no  lonpr  consider  omsdvea  as  hm 
snl^ects.  His  authority  is  m  suspcnss,  because  he  has  bo- 
slowed  it  on  the  Jesuits  who  form  this  senate.  The  peo- 
ple have  not  yet  acknowledged  them.  In  tins  immtal  «f 
resignation  on  the  one  side,  and  assumption  of  the  other, 
I  anolve  you  all  of  the  fidelity  the  king  may  daim  from 
you  as  his  Swedish  sufajecu.'  When  he  had  said  ibis,  dm 
Prince  of  Bithynia  addressing  hhnsdf  to  Prince  Chorion, 
undo  of  the  king,  said,  <  I  own  no  other  king  than  yon  ; 
and  I  bdieve  )|rou  are  now  obliged  to  receive  us  as  yoar  af^ 
fectionato  subjects,  and  to  assist  i»  to  hunt  these 
from  the  state.'  All  the  others  joined  him,  and 
le«ljrMi  Charles  as  their  lawful  asonarch. 

Having  resolved  to  keep  their  declaration  for 
secret,  they  deliberated  in  what  manner  they  were  to 
oeive  and  to  precede  this  senate  in  their  entry  into  tim 
harbour,  who  were  now  on  board  a  great  galleon,  whidk 
had  anchored  two  leagues  from  Stockholm  that  they 
might  enter  more  magnificently  in  the  night,  when  the  fire- 
works they  had  prepared  wooM  appear  to  the  gieatot 
advantage.  About  the  time  of  their  reception,  *"  ' 
ChaHes,  aoeompanied  by  twenty-five  or  ihirry 
appeared  before  the  senate.  Whedmg  about  and 
a  caraod  of  diips,  they  discharged  a  voDey,  and  emptiod 
all  thdr  cannon  on  the  galleon  of  this  senate,  which  bod 
its  sides  |Merced  through  with  the  balls.  The  galleon  isn- 
mediately  filled  with  water  and  sunk,  without  one  of  iIm 
unfortunate  Jesuits  being  assisted;  on  the  contrary,  their 
assailants  cned  to  them  that  this  was  the  time  to  poifoim 
some  miracle,  such  as  they  were  accustomed  to  do  in  In- 
dia and  Japan ;  and  if  they  chose,  they  could  waft  on  tho 

The  report  of  the  cannon  and  the  smoke  wbidi  tho 
powder  occasiooed,  prevented  either  the  cries  or  the  sub- 
mersion of  the  hdy  fathers  from  beint  observed  ;  and  ns  if 
they  were  conducting  the  senate  to  the  town,  Charles  en- 
tered triumphantly;  went  into  the  church,  where  they 
sung  TV  Demm;  and  to  condude  the  night,  be  partook  of 
the  entertainment  which  had  been  prepared  tor  this  ffi» 
fated  senate. 

The  jesuiu  of  the  dty  of  Stodiholm  having  come,  nboot 
midnight,  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  fathers  of  the  so* 
nate,  perceived  their  loss.  They  directly  posted  up  pla- 
cards of  exoommunicatiun  against  Charles  and  his  adher- 
ents, who  had  caused  the  senate  of  Jesuits  to  perish. 
They  solidted  the  people  to  rebel :  but  they  wore  soon 
expelled  the  dty,  and  Charles  made  a  public  pttffaatmm  of 

Siffismond,  king  of  Poland,  began  a  war  with  Chnrleo 
in  1604,  which  tested  two  vesirs.  Disturbed  by  the  inva- 
sions of  the  Tartars,  the  Muscovites,  and  the  cfossacka,  a 
truce  wss  conduded ;  bm  Sigismoud  bwt  both  his  erowns, 
by  his  bigoted  attachment  to  Roman  Calhdi 

THE  lotkk's  BKAnr. 

The  foDowing  ule  is  recorded  in  the  HisCoricnl  Me- 
moirs of  Champagne,  by  Bougier.  It  has  been  a  fennir- 
ite  narrative  with  the  dd  romance  writers ;  and  the  prin- 
cipal incident,  however  ot^ectionafale,  has  been  displayed 
in  several  modsra  poems.  It  is  probable,  that  the  true 
history  will  be  acceptable  for  its  tender  nnd  amocoos  inci- 
dent, to  the  fair  reader. 

I  find  it  in  soeae  shape  related  by  Howd,  in  his  *  Fandnr 
Letters,*  in  one  addressed  to  Ben  Jonson.    Ho 

It  to  him  as  a  subject*  which  pemdventuio  you  mar 
make  use  of  in  your  wsy  ;•  sod  concludes  by  sayW.  *  In 
my  opmion.  which  vuts  to  voiirs,  this  b  choice  and  rich 



■taff  for  you  to  put  upon  your  kM«i  and  make  a  curiout 
web  of.' 

The  Lord  De  Gouey,  Tawal  to  the  Count  De  Cbam- 
pai^e,  was  ooe  of  the  moet  accompliahed  voutbs  of  hie 
time.  He  loved,  with  an  ezceee  of  passion,  toe  lady  of  the 
Ijord  Du  Fayel,  who  felt  a  reciprocal  affection.  With  the 
most  pmfloant  grief  this  lady  heard  from  her  lover,  that  he 
bad  resoTvnd  to  aecompaoy  the  kini;  and  the  Count  De 
Champafoe  to  the  ware  of  the  Holy  Laod ;  but  she  would 
not  oppose  hie  wishes,  because  she  bcped  tliat  his  absence 
might  dissipate  the  jealousy  of  her  ousband.  The  time 
of  departure  having  come,  these  two  lovers  parted  with 
sorrows  of  the  most  lively  tenderness.  The  luy,  in  quit- 
ting her  lover,  presented  him  with  some  rings,  some  dia- 
monds, and  witn  a  string  that  she  had  woven  herself  of  his 
own  hair,  intermized  wiih  silk  and  buttons  of  large  pearls, 
to  serve  him,  according  to  the  fashion  of  those  days,  to  tie 
a  magnificent  hood  which  covered  his  helmet.  This  he 
gratefully  accepted. 

In  Palesiine,  at  the  siege  of  Acre,  in  1191,  in  gloriously 
ascending  the  ramparts,  he  received  a  wound,  which  was 
declared  mortal.  He  employed  the  few  moments  he  had 
to  live  in  writing  to  the  Ladv  Du  Fayel ;  and  he  poured 
forth  the  fervour  of  his  soul.  He  oniered  his  squire  to 
embalm  his  heart  after  his  death,  and  to  eonvejr  it  to  his 
beloved  mistress,  with  the  presents  he  had  received  from 
her  hands  in  quitting  her. 

The  squire,  faithful  to  the  djring  injunction  of  his  mas- 
ter, returned  to  France,  to  present  the  heart  and  the  pre- 
sents to  the  lady  of  Do  Fayel.    But  when  he  approached 
the  castle  of  this  lady,  he  concealed  himself  in  the  neigh- 
bouring wood,  till  he  could  find  some  favourable  moment 
to  complete  his  promise.    He  had  the  misfortune  to  be  ob- 
served by  the  husband  of  this  lady,  who  recognized  him, 
and  who  immediately  suspected  he  came  in  search  of  his 
wife  with  some  messace  from  bis  master.    He  threatened 
to  deprive  him  of  his  life,  if  he  did  not  divulge  the  occasion 
of  his  return.    The  squire  assured  him  that  his  master 
was  dead ;  but  Du  Fa  vet  not  believing  it,  drew  his  sword 
on  him.    This  man,  frightened  at  the  peril  in  which  he 
found  himself,  confessed   every  thing;  and  put  into  his 
bands  the  heart  and  letter  of  his  roaster.    Du  Fayel, 
prompted  by  the  fellest  revenge,  ordered  his  cook  to  mince 
the  heart ;  and  having  mixed  it  with  meat«  he  caused  a 
raffout  to  be  made,  which  he  knew  pleased  the  taste  of  his 
wife,  and  had  it  served  to  her.     The  lady  ate  heartily  of 
the  dish.    After  the  repast,  Du  Fayel  inquired  of  his  wife 
if  she  bad  found  the  ragout  according  to  her  taste :  she 
answered  him  that  she  had  found  it  excellent'    *  It  is  for 
this  reason,  that  I  caused  it  to  be  served  toyou,  for  it  is  a 
kind  of  meat  which  you  very  much  liked,     zou  have,  Ma^ 
dam,*  the  savage  Du  Favel  continued,  eaten  the  heart  of 
the  Lord  De  Coucv.'    But  this  she  would  net  believe,  till 
he  showed  her  the  letter  of  her  lover,  with  the  string  of  his 
hair,  and  the  diamonds  she  had  given  him.    Then  shud- 
dering in  the  anguish  of  her  sensations,  and  urged  by  the 
darkest  despair,  she  told  him— <  It  is  true  that  I  loved  that 
heart,  because  it  merited  to  be  loved ;  for  never  could  it 
find  its  superior ;  and  since  I  have  eaten  of  so  noble  a 
meat,  and  that  my  stomach  is  the  tomb  of  so  precious  a 
heart,  I  will  take  care  that  nothing  of  inferior  worth  shall 
ever  be  mixed  with  it.'    Gkief  and  passion  choaked  her 
utterance.    She  retired  to  her  chamber;  she  closed  the 
door  for  ever ;  and  refusing  to  accept  ofcoiMolation  or  food, 
the  amiable  victim  expired  on  the  fourth  day. 


The  present  learned  and  curious  dissertation  is  compil- 
ed from  the  papers  of  an  ingenious  antiquary,  from  the 
*  Present  State  of  the  Republic  of  Letters,'  Vol.  X,  p. 

The  antiquity  of  this  part  of  dress,  will  form  our  first 
inquiry ;  and  we  shall  then  show  its  various  uses  in  the  se- 
veral ages  of  the  world. 

It  has  been  imagined  that  gloves  are  noticed  in  the  106th 
Psalm,  where  the  royal  prophet  declares,  he  will  cast  his 
dkes  over  Edom ;  and  still  farther  back,  supposing  them  to 
be  used  in  the  times  of  the  Judges,  Ruth  iv,  7,  where  the 
custom  is  noticed  of  a  man  taking  off  his  $hoe  and  givinj^  it 
to  bis  neighbour,  as  a  pledge  for  redeeming  or  exchangmg 
any  thing.  The  word  in  these  two  texts  usuall)[  translat- 
ed tho9  by  the  Chaldee  paraphrast  in  the  latter,  is  render^ 
•d  glove.  Casaubon  is  of  opinion  that  g/ooss  were  worn 
by  the  ChaHeani ,  from  the  word  here  mentioned  being  ex- 
plained in  the  Talmud  Lexicon,  the  obUdng  q/*  ike  hantl. 

But  are  not  these  mere  conjectures,  and  has  not  tba  Chal- 
dean paraphrast  taken  a  liberty  in  his  version  ? 

Xenophm  gives  a  clear  and  distinct  account  of  glaoee. 
Speaking  of  the  manners  of  the  Persians,  as  a  proof  of 
their  effeminacy,  he  observes,  that  not  satisfied  with  coverw 
ing  their  head  and  their  feet,  they  also  guarded  their  hands 
against  the  cold  with  Uddt  gkn>ee.  Homer,  describing 
Laertes  at  work  in  his  garden,  represents  him  with  gbfvee 
en  hie  kandat  fo  eeettre  them  from  the  fAems.  Korro,  an 
ancient  writer  is  an  evidence  in  &vonr  of  their  antiquity 
among  the  Romans.  In  lib.  ii,  cap.  65,  d^  Re  Rtutiea,  he 
says,  that  olives  gathered  by  the  naked  hand,  are  prefera- 
ble to  those  gathered  with  glovee,  Atherume  speaks  of  a 
celebrated  glutton  who  always  came  to  table  with  glooee 
on  his  hamu,  that  he  might  be  able  to  handle  and  eat  the 
meat  while  hot,  and  devour  more  than  the  rest  of  the  com- 

These  authorities  show,  that  the  ancients  were  not 
strangers  to  the  use  of  ghvee,  though  their  use  was  not 
common.  In  a  hot  climate  to  wear  gloves  implies  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  effeminacy.  We  can  more  cleariy 
trace  the  earhr  use  of  gloves  in  northern  than  in  southern 
nations.  When  the  ancient  severity  of  manners  declined, 
the  use  of  giovee  prevailed  among  the  Romans ;  but  not 
without  some  opposition  from  the  philosophers.  MueonhUt 
a  philosopher,  who  lived  at  the  close  of  the  first  century  of 
christiantty,  among  other  invectives  against  the  corruption 
of  the  age,  says  It  ieeham^ftd  that  genome  in  ptffeet  heaiih 
^ould  eioAe  their  hande  and  fe^  wUh  eoft  ana  hairy  eoveT" 
ringe.  Their  convenience,  however,  soon  made  the  use 
general.  Pliny  the  younger  informs  us,  in  his  account  of 
his  uncle's  journey  to  Vesuvius,  that  his  secretary  sat  by 
him  readv  to  write  down  whatever  occurred  remarimble ; 
and  that  ne  had  glovee  on  liis  hands,  that  the  coldness  of 
the  weather  might  not  impede  his  business. 

In  the  beginnmg  of  the  ninth  century,  the  use  of  ghvee 
was  become  so  universal,  that  even  the  church  thought  a 
regulation  in  that  part  of  dress  necessary.  In  the  reign 
of  Lewie  le  Ddbonnaire,  the  council  of  Aix  ordered  that 
the  monks  should  only  wear  glooee  made  of  sheep-skin. 

That  time  had  made  alterations  in  the  form  of  thb,  as 
in  all  other  apparel,  appears  from  the  old  pictures  and  mo- 

QUnee,  beskies  their  origmal  design  for  a  coveruig  of  the 
hand,  have  been  employra  on  several  great  and  solemn 
occasions ;  as  in  the  ceremony  of  imseetkuree,  in  bestow- 
ing lands,  or  in  conferring  dignitife.  Giring  possession, 
by  the  delivery  of  a  glove,  prevailed  in  several  parts  of 
Christendom  m  later  ages.  In  the  year  lOOS,  the  bishops 
of  Paderbom  and  Moncerco  were  put  into  possession  of 
their  sees  by  receiving  a  ghve.  It  was  thought  so  essen- 
tial a  part  of  the  episcopal  habit,  that  some  abbots  in 
France  presuming  to  wear  gloves,  the  council  of  Poitiers 
interposed  in  the  affair,  and  forbad  them  the  use,  on  the 
same  principle  as  the  ring  and  sandals ;  these  being  pecu- 
liar to  bishops,  who  frequently  wore  them  richly  adorned 
on  their  backs  with  jewels. 

Favin  observes,  that  the  custom  of  blessing  glovee  at 
the  coronation  of  the  kings  of  France,  which  still  subsists, 
is  a  remain  of  the  eastern  practice  of  investiture  by  a 
glens.  A  remarkable  instance  of  this  ceremony  is  re- 
corded. The  unfortunate  Oonradin  was  deprived  of  his 
crown  and  his  life  by  the  usurper  Man^fjrojf,  When  hav- 
ing ascended  the  scaffold,  the  injured  prince  lamenting  his 
hard  fate,  asserted  his  right  to  the  crown,  and  as  a  token 
of  investiture,  threw  his  glove  among  the  crowd,  entreat- 
ing it  might  be  conveyed  to  some  of  his  relations,  who 
would  revenge  his  desth.  It  was  taken  up  by  a  knight, 
and  brought  to  Peter  King  of  Arragon,  who  in  virtue  of 
this  glove  was  afterwards  crowned  at  Palermo. 

As  the  delivery  of  glovee  was  once  a  part  of  the  cere- 
mony used  in  giving  possession,  so  the  depriring  a  person 
of  them  was  a  mark  of  divesting  him  of  his  ofllce,  and  of 
degradation.  The  Earl  of  Carlisle,  in  the  reign  of  Ed- 
ward the  Second,  impeached  of  holding  a  correspondence 
with  the  Scots,  was  condemned  to  die  as  a  traitor.  Wal- 
singham,  relating  other  circumstances  of  his  degradation, 
says,  *  His  spurs  were  cut  off  with  a  hatchet ;  and  bis 
glovee  and  shoes  were  taken  off,  &c.' 

Another  use  of  glovee  wss  in  a  duel ;  he  who  threw  one 
down,  was  by  this  act  understood  to  give  defiance,  and  he 
who  took  it  up,  to  accept  the  challenge. 

The  use  of  single  combat,  at  first  designed  only  foir  a 
trial  of  innocence,  like  the  ordeals  of  fire  and  water,  was 
in  succeeding  ages  practised  for  deciding  rights  and  pro* 



per^.  ChaUeoging  by  tbe  ghite  ww  oootinuml  dofvn  to 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  u  appears  by  an  account  airen  by 
Spelman  of  a  duel  appointed  to  be  fought  in  Tothiu  Fielite 
so  the  year  1571.  The  dispute  was  concerning  eome 
lands  in  the  county  of  Kent.  The  plaintiffs  appeared  in 
court,  and  demanded  sincle  combat.  One  of  them  threw 
down  his  glove,  which  the  other  immediatelv  taking  up, 
carried  it  off  on  the  point  of  his  sword,  and  tbe  day  of 
fighting  was  appointed ;  this  sAair  was  however  adjusted 
by  the  queen's  judicious  interference. 

The  ceremony  is  still  practised  of  challenging  fay  afbvs 
at  the  coronation  of  the  kin^s  of  England,  by  his  majesty's 
champion  entering  Westmmister  Hall  completely  armed 
and  mounted. 

Challenguig  ^  the  gtov9  is  still  in  use  in  some  parts  of 
the  world.  In  Grermaoy,  on  receiving  an  afiront,  to  send 
a  giove  to  the  offending  party,  is  a  challenge  to  a  duel. 

The  last  use  ofglmtet  was  for  carrying  ue  Aoml,  whieb 
is  very  ancient.  In  former  times,  pnnces  and  other  great 
men  took  so  much  pleasure  in  canying  the  hawk  on  their 
hand,  that  some  of  them  have  chosen  to  be  represented  in 
this  attitude.  There  is  a  monument  of  Philip  tbe  First  of 
France  still  remaining ;  on  which  he  is  represented  at 
length,  on  his  tomb,  bwding  a  glem  in  his  Iwnd. 

Chambers  says  that,  formerly,  judges  were  forlud  to 
wear  giovet  on  toe  bench.    No  reason  is  assigned  for  this 

Kohibiiion.  Our  judges  lie  under  no  such  restraint;  for 
Ih  they  and  tbe  rest  of  the  court  make  no  difficulty  of 
receiving  ginws  from  the  shenfis,  whenever  the  session  or 
assise  concludes  without  any  one  receiving  sentence  of 
death,  which  is  called  a  maidtn  osstse  ,*  a  custom  of  great 

Our  eufioQs  antiouary  has  preserved  a  singular  oaco- 
dote  concerning  gUvM.  Chambers  informs  us,  that  it  is 
not  safe  at  present  to  enter  the  stables  of  princes  without 
pulling  off  our  glanu.  He  does  not  tell  us  in  what  the 
danger  consists ;  but  it  is  an  ancient  established  custom  in 
Germany,  that  whoever  enters  the  stables  of  a  prince,  or 

g-eat  man,  with  his  glenm  on  his  hands,  is  obliged  to  for- 
it  them,  or  redeem  them  by  a  fee  to  the  servants.  The 
same  custom  is  observed  in  some  places  at  the  death  of 
.  the  stSLg ;  in  which  case  if  the  ^leest  are  not  taken  off  they 
are  redeemed  by  money  given  to  the  huntsmen  and  keep- 
ers. The  French  king  never  failed  of  pulling  off  one  of 
bis  ^bvss  on  that  occasion.  The  reason  of  this  ceremony 
seems  to  be  lost. 

We  meet  with  the  term  gUnfmrney  in  our  old  records ; 
bv  which  is  meant,  money  given  to  servants  to  buy  giovet. 
This  probably  is  the  origin  of  tbe  phrase  giving  a  pair  of 
giavee,  to  signify  making  a  present  for  some  favour  or  ser- 
GKnigh  in  bis '  Sepulchral  Monuments'  informs  ue  that 

J  [loves  formed  no  part  of  the  female  dress  till  after  the  Re- 
ormation ;  I  have  seen  some  so  late  as  Anne's  lime  rich- 
ly worked  and  erabroklered. 

There  must  exist  in  the  Denny  family  some  of  the 
oldest  gloves  eitant,  as  appears  by  the  fcdiowing  glove 

At  tbe  sale  of  tbe  Earl  of  Arran's  goods,  April  6th 
1759,  the  gtoves  ffiven  bv  Henry  VUI  to  Sir  Anthony 
Denny  were  sold  for  Sd/,  17s;  those  given  by  James 
I  to  his  son  Edward  Denny  for  2S/,  4s ;  the  mittens  given 
by  doeen  EUiabeth  to  Sir  Edward  Denny's  Lady.  S6/, 
4t ;  all  which  were  bought  for  Sir  Thomas  Denny  of  Ire- 
land who  was  deseendra  in  a  direct  line  from  the  great  Sir 
Anthony  Dsimy«  one  of  the  cxectiiors  of  tbe  will  m  Henry. 


When  relics  of  saints  were  first  introduced,  the  relique> 
mania  was  universal :  they  bought  and  they  sold,  and 
like  other  collectors,  made  no  scruple  to  sIsaZ  Uiem.  It  is 
entertaining  lo  obserre  the  singular  ardour  and  grasping 
avklity  of  some,  to  enrich  themselves  with  these  religious 
morsels,  their  Uttle  discermeot,  the  curious  impositions 
of  tbe  vender,  and  the  cood  faith  and  sincerity  ot  the  pur- 
chaser. The  prelate  «  the  place  sometimes  ordained  a 
last  to  implore  Qod  that  they  might  not  be  cheated  with 
the  relics  of  saints,  which  he  sometimes  purchased  for  the 
hffAy  benefit  of  the  village  or  town. 

Ouilhert  de  Nogen  wrote  a  treatise  on  the  relics  of 
saints ;  acknowledging  that  there  were  maojr  false  ones 
as  well  as  false  legends,  he  reprobates  the  inventors  of 
these  lying  nurades.  He  wrote  his  treatise  on  the  oo- 
Msion  of  a  toolh  of  our  Lord's  by  which  tbo  monks  of  St. 

Medard  do  SoissoBS  pretsnded  to  opeimf  e  mimdsa.  Be 
asserts  that  this  prcientton  is  as  chimerical  as  that  of  if* 
veral  peraons,  who  believed  tbej  possmsiod  ilie  oave},  ami 
other  parts  leas  deeent  ot-^he  body  of  Christ ! 

A  monk  of  Bergsvinck  has  given  a  history  of  tbe  tna^ 
laiion  of  Saint  Lewio,  a  virgin,  and  a  martyr  t  her  relies 
were  brought  from  Bng^iand  to  Bergs.  He  eollecied  with 
religious  care  the  foas  from  his  brotbres,  especially  Irom 
the  conductor  of  these  relies  from  Eni^ano.  Aner  the 
historv  of  tbe  translation,  and  a  panegvrie  of  tbe  saint, 
he  relatee  tbe  miracles  performed  in  F'laiiden  mnee  tbe 
arrival  of  her  relics.  Toe  prevailing  passions  of  the  timea 
to  possess  fragm«its  of  saints  is  weUmarked,  when  tbe  ati- 
thor  partieulariaea  with  a  eertain  complacency  all  the 
knavish  modes  tber  oaed  to  cariy  off  loose  in  questSeo. 
None  then  objeeteo  to  this  sort  of  robbery;  becanse  tfaa 
gratification  el  tbe  reigning  paision  had' made  it  worth 
while  to  supply  tbe  demand. 

A  monk  of  Cluny  baa  given  a  history  of  the  timndofisa 
of  tbe  body  of  8t  Indaleoe,  one  of  the  eafiieat  Spanish* 
bishops  ;  written  by  order  of  tbe  abbot  of  St.  Jnaa  do  la 
Pemm.  Ha  protests  be  advances  nothing  but  &efs ;  bav^ 
ing  himself  seen,  or  learnt  from  other  witnesses,  aU  he  re- 
lates. It  wasnoCdifiSeult  for  him  to  be  vrell  informed,  ainee 
it  was  to  tbe  nonastry  oi  St  Juan  de  la  Peima  tbaStbe 
holy  relics  were  transported,  and  those  who  brougbt  tbea 
were  two  monks  of  that  house.  He  has  authratieated  faia 
minute  detail  of  circumstances  by  giviiy^  the  naaes  ef  per* 
sons  and  places.  His  account  was  written  for  the  greni 
festival  immediatelv  instituted  in  honour  of  this  translatioA: 
He  informs  us  of  toe  miraculous  nnnoer  by  wbicb  they 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  discover  tbe  body  of  this  biabep 
and  the  difierent  plans  they  concerted  to  cany  it  m* 
He  gives  the  itinerary  of  the  two  monka  who  aeeompamed 
the  holy  remains.  They  vrere  net  a  little  cheered  in 
their  long  ioume^  by  visions  and  miracles. 
Another  has  written  a  history  of  what  he  caKs  tbe  transla* 
tion  of  the  rrKcs  of  Saint  Magean  fo  tbe  moiiastry  of  Vill^ 
msgne.  TVonstoien  as  in  fact  only  a  scftened  iniiisssitai 
for  the  robbery  of  the  relics  oTiJm*  saint  committee  hy  two 
monks,  vrho  carried  tbem  off  secretly  to  ovich  tbeir  mon- 
asiery  ;  and  they  did  not  hesiutte  at  any  artifiee.  or  lie,  to 
complete  their  design.  They  thought  every  tbing  was 
permitted  to  acquire  theee  fragments  of  nortaHiy,  wbieb 
had  now  become  a  branch  of  commerce.  They  oven  re- 
garded their  possessors  with  a  hostile  sje.  Soeh  was  the 
religious  opinion  from  the  ninth  to  the  twelfth  ccsiitnry. 
Our  Canute  commissioned  hb  agent  at  Rome  to  pureAiafta 
Saint  AugnaHn^s  ann  for  one  hundivd  talents  of  s«lv«r 
and  one  of  gold !  a  much  larger  sum.  ofaeervea  Grtncer 
than  the  finest  statue  of  antiquity  would  have  then  sold  tar. 

Another  monk  describes  a  stimnge  act  of  devotion  at- 
tested by  several  cootemporarr  writers.  When  tbe  sainia 
did  not  readily  comply  with  the  prayers  of  ibsir  votariea, 
they  flogged  their  relics  with  rods,  in  a  spirit  of  impa- 
tience which  they  conceived  was  proper  to  make  tbtm 
bend  into  compliance. 

Tbeofroy,  abbot  of  Eplenac,  to  raise  oor  admiratioD 
relates  tbe  daily  ouraeles  perforaBod  by  the  relics  of  sainis, 
tbeir  ashes,  their  clothes,  or  other  mortal  spoils,  and  even 
by  the  iostrvmenta  of  their  martTrdom.  Be  ioveigiha 
against  that  luxury  of  oroameots  wnieh  was  MttlMd  im» 
der  a  religious  pretext ;  '  It  is  not  lo  be  supposed  that  the 
sainu  are  desirous  of  ouch  a  profusioo  of  geld  ami  ailver. 


They  wish  not  that  we  should*  raise  lo  theiii  such  injftifi- 
cent  churches,  to  exhibit  that  ingemous  order  of  pdlait 
which  shine  with  gold  ;  nor  those  rich  ceilings,  nor  those 
altars  sparkling  wiui  jewels.  They  dcAre  not  the  purple 
parchment  of  price  for  their  writings,  the  liquid  geU  to 
embellish  the  letters,  nor  tbe  prscieus  sIoom  to  decorate 
tbeir  covers ;  while  yon  have  such  little  care  for  tbe  miiK 
isters  of  the  altar.*  The  pious  writer  has  ool  foirgocisa 
khnte^'m  this  partnerditp^ceouBt  with  tkt  seiaCt. 

Tbe  Roman  church  not  being  able  to  deny,  says  Beyle, 
that  there  have  been  false  relics,  which  have  operated  mirw 
acles,  they  reply,  that  the  good  inteotions  of  those  hc^ 
lieveiv  who  have  recourse  to  them  obtained  from  Ood  ihb 
reward  for  thear  good&ith !  In  the  same  spirit,  when  it 
was  shewn  that  two  or  three  bodies  of  the  saoM  saint  are 
said  to  exist  in  differsnt  placee,  and,  that  thstalbre  they 
all  could  not  be  authsntic ;  it  was  anawersd,  thai  they 
were  all  genuine !  for  Ood  had  multiplied  and  minailaaBhf 
reproduced  them  for  the  comfort  of  the  foitbful !  A  cwv 
I  ottsapeciaeAcfiheiDloieraiieeorfQod 


WhtiQ  the  Reformation  wm  •proad  in  Lithuania,  Prince 
Radzivil  was  lo  affected  by  it,  that  he  went  in  person  to 
pay  the  pope  all  possible  honours.  His  holiness  on  this 
occasion  presented  him  with  a  precious  box  of  relics.  The 
prince  having  returned  homo,  some  monks  entreated  per- 
mission to  trj  the  effect  of  tliese  relics  on  the  demoniac, 
who  had  hitherto  resisted  every  kind  of  exorcism.  They 
were  brought  into  the  church  with  solemn  pomp,  and  de- 
posited on  the  altar,  accompanied  by  an  innumerable 
crowd.  After  the  usnal  conjurations,  which  were  unsuc- 
cessful, they  applied  the  relics.  The  demoniac  instantly 
recovered.  Tne  people  called  out  a  mxrade!  and  the 
prince,  lifting  his  bands  and  eyes  to  heaven,  felt  his  faith 
confirmed.  In  this  transport  of  pious  joy,  he  observed 
Uiai  a  young  gentleman  who  was  keeper  of  this  treasure 
of  relics,  smiwd,  and  by  his  motions  ridiculed  the  miracle. 
The  prince,  indignantly,  took  our  young  keeper  of  the  re- 
lics to  task;  who,  on  promise  of  pardon,  gave  the  follow- 
ing secret  inlelligence  concerning  them.  In  travelling 
from  Rome  he  had  lost  the  box  of  relics  ;  and  not  darins 
to  mention  it,  he  had  procured  a  similar  one,  which  he  had 
filled  with  the  small  bones  of  doss  and  cats,  and  other  tri- 
fles similar  to  what  were  lost.  Ke  hoped  he  might  be  for- 
given for  smiling,  when  he  found  thai  such  a  collection  of 
rubbish  was  idolized  with  such  pomp,  and  had  even  the 
^rtue  of  expelling  demons.  It  was  by  the  assistance  of 
this  box  that  the  prince  discovered  the  gross  impositions  of 
the  monks  and  the  demoniacs,  and  Raosivil  afterwards  be- 
came a  zealous  Uutberan. 

The  Elector  Frederic,  sumamed  the  totse,  was  an  inde- 
Citigable  collector  of  relics.  After  his  death,  one  of  the 
m*inks  employed  by  him,  solicited  payment  for  several 
parcels  he  had  purchased  for  our  icise  elector ;  but  tho 
limes  had  changed !  He  was  advised  to  give  over  this 
business ;  the  relics  for  which  he  desired  payment  they 
were  willing  to  rvfum  .*  that  the  price  had  fallen  consider- 
ably since  the  reformation  of  Luther ;  and  that  they 
would  be  more  esteemed,  and  find  a  better  markel  in  Italy 
than  in  Gerroanv! 

Stephens,  in  nis  Trait6  preparatif  a  I'Apologie  pour 
Heroaote,  c.  S9,  says,  *  A  monk  of  St.  Anthony  having 
been  at  Jerusalem,  saw  there  several  relics,  among  which 
were  a  bit  of  the  finger  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  sound  and 
entire  as  it  bad  ever  been  ;  the  snout  of  the  seranhim  that 
appeared  to  St.  Francis ;  one  of  the  nails  of  a  clierubim ; 
one  of  the  ribs  of  the  verlmm  earo  faehtm  (the  word  made 
flesh :)  some  rays  of  the  star  which  appeared  to  the  three 
kings  m  the  east ;  a  vial  of  St  Michael's  sweat  when  he 
was  fighting  against  the  devil ;  a  hem  of  Joseph's  garment, 
which  he  wore  when  he  cleaved  wood,  &c :'  all  of  which 
things,  observes  our  treasurer  of  retics,  I  have  brought 
very  devoutly  with  me  home.  Our  Henry  III,  who  was 
deeply  tainted  with  the  superstition  of  the  age,  summoned 
all  the  great  in  the  kingdom  to  meet  in  London.  This 
summons  excited  the  most  general  curiosity,  and  multi- 
tudes appeared.  The  king  then  acquainted  them  that  the 
great  master  of  the  Knights  Tenmlars  had  sent  him  a 
phial  containing  a  anudl  portion  of  the  preamu  blood  of 
ChriM  which  he  had  shed  upcm  the  cross  /  and  altetted  to 
be  genuine  by  the  seals  of  the  patriarch  of  Jerusalem  and 
others.  He  commanded  a  procession  the  following  day, 
and  tho  historian  adds,  that  tnotigh  the  road  between  St. 
PauFs  and  Westminister  abbey  was  very  deep  and  miry, 
the  king  kept  his  eyes  constantly  fixed  on  the  phial.  Two 
monks  received  it,  and  deposited  the  phial  in  the  abbey, 
*  which  made  all  Enriana  shine  with  glory,  dedicating  it  to 
God,  and  St.  Edward.' 

Lord  Herbert,  in  his  Life  of  Henry  VIU,  notices  the 
grecU/aU  of  the  price  ofrtUee  at  the  dissolution  <^  the  mon- 
asteries. *  The  respect  given  to  relics,  and  some  pre- 
tended miracles,  fell ;  insomuch,  as  I  find  by  our  records, 
that  a  piece  of  St.  AndrtvPe^gfTy  (covered  only  with  an 
ounce  of  silver,)  being  laid  to  pledge  bv  a  monastery 
for  forty  pounds,  was  left  unredeemecTat  tne  dissolution  of 
the  house ;  the  king's  commissioners,  who  upon  summder 
of  any  foundation  undertook  to  pay  the  debts,  refusing  to 
return  the  price  agnin.'  That  is,  tney  did  not  choose  to 
repay  ihe/orfy  jdowuIs,  to  receive  apMte  of  the  finger  of 
St,  Andrew. 

About  this  time  the  property  of  relics  suddenly  sunk  to  a 
8outb-«ea  bubble ;  for  snortly  after  the  artince  of  the 
Rood  of  Girace,  at  Boxley  in  Kent,  was  fully  open«l  to 
the  eyes  of  the  populace;  and  a  far-famed  relic  at  Hales  in 
Gluacestershire,  of  the  blood  of  Christ,  was  at  the  same 
time  exhibited.    It  was  showed  in  a  phial|  and  it  was  be- 

No.  3. 

lieved  that  none  could  see  it  who  were  in  mortal  sin ;  and 
after  many  trials  usually  repeated  to  the  same  person,  tba 
deluded  pilgrims  at  length  went  away  fully  satisfied.  This 
relic  was  the  blood  of  a  dueky  renewed  every,  week,  and 
put  in  a  phial ;  one  side  was  opaque,  and  the  other  irame* 
parent ;  tne  monk  turned  either  side  to  the  pilgrim  as  ha 
thought  proper.  The  success  of  the  pilgrim  depended  on 
the  generous  oblations  he  made ;  those  who  were  acan^ 
in  their  offerings  were  llic  longest  to  get  a  sight  of  the 
blood :  when  a  man  was  in  despair,  ho  usual^  becamo 
more  generous ! 


No.  379  of  tho  Spectator,  relates  an  anecdote  of  one 
having  opened  the  sepulchre  of  the  famous  Roncrucius. 
There  he  discovered  a.  lamp  burning,  which  a  statue  of 
clock-work  struck  into  pieces.  Hence  the  disciples  of  this 
visionary  said,  that  he  made  use  of  this  method  to  show 
*  that  he  bad  re-invented  the  ever  burning  lamps  of  the 

Many  writers  have  made  mention  of  these  wonderfiil 
lamps  ;  Marville  appears  to  give  asatisfiictory  account  of 
the  nature  of  these  names. 

It  has  happened  frequently,  that  inquisitive  men,  exa- 
mining with  a  flambeau  ancient  sepulchres  which  had  been 
just  opened,  the  ht  and  gross  vapours,  engendered  by  the 
corruption  of  dead  bo<ues,  kindled  as  the  flambeau  ap- 
proaened  them,  to  the  great  astonuhment  of  the  specta- 
tors, who  frequently  cried  out  a  miraeU  !  This  sudden  in- 
flammation, although  very  natural,  has  given  room  to  be- 
lieve that  these  flames  proceed^  (rota perpetuallampe, 
which  some  have  thought  were  placed  in  the  tombs  of  tho 
ancients,  and  which,  tney  said,  were  extinguished  at  the 
moment  these  tomto  opened,  and  were  penetrated  by  the 
exterior  air. 

The  accounts  of  the  perpetual  lamps,  which  ancient 
writers  give,  has  occasioned  several  mgenious  men  to 
search  uter  their  composition.  Licetus,  who  possessed 
more  enidition  than  love  of  truth,  has  given  two  receiptn 
for  making  this  eternal  fire  by  a  peparation  of  certain 
minerals.  An  opinion  in  vogue  amongst  those  who  are 
pleased  with  the  wonderful,  or  who  only  examine  things 
superficially.  More  credible  writers  maintain,  that  it  is 
impossible  to  make  lamps  perpetually  burning,  and  an  oil 
at  once  inflammable  and  inconsumable ;  but  Boyle,  as- 
sisted by  several  experiments  made  on  the  air-pump,  found 
that  those  ]ights,which  have  been  viewed  in  opening  tombs, 
proceeded  from  the  coUision  of  fresh  air.  This  reasonable 
observation  conciliates  all,  and  does  not  compel  us  to  deny 
the  accounts. 

The  story  of  the  lamp  of  Rosicnicius,  even  if  it  ever 
had  the  slightest  foundation,  only  owes  its  origin  to  the 
spirit  of  party,  which  at  the  time  would  have  persuaded 
tne  worlo,  that  Rosicnicius  had  at  last  discovered  some- 
thing; but  there  is  nothing  certam  in  this  amusing  inven- 

The  reason  adduced  by  Marville  is  satisfactory  for  bia 
day ;  and  for  the  opening  of  sepulchres  with  flambeaux. 
But  it  was  reserved  {or  the  modtem  discoveries  made  in 
natural  philosophy,  as  well  as  those  in  chemistry,  to  prove, 
that  air  was  not  only  necessary  for  a  medium  to  the  eiia- 
tenoe  of  the  flame,  which  indeeid  the  air-pump  had  aheady 
shown ;  but  also  as  a  constituent  part  of  the  inflammatioo, 
and  wiihout  which  a  body  otherwise  very  inflammable  m 
all  its  parts,  cannot  however  bum  but  in  its  snperfiees, 
which  alone  ia  in  contact  with  the  ambient  air. 



Some  stones  are  preserved  by  the  curious,  for  represent- 
ing distinctly  figures  traced  by  nature  alone,  and  witboul 
the  aid  of  art. 

Pliny  mentions  an  agate,  in  which  appeared,  formed  by 
the  band  of  nature,  Apollo  amidst  the  nme  Muses  hoUinjg 
a  harp.  Majolus  assures  us,  that  at  Venice  another  ti 
seen,  in  which  is  naturally  formed  the  perfect  figure  of  a 
man.  At  Pisa,  in  the  church  of  St  John,  there  is  a  sina- 
lar  natural  production,  which  represents  an  old  hermit  in 
a  desert  seated  by  the  side  of  a  stream,  and  who  boldi  in 
his  hands  a  smallbell,  as  St  Anthony  is  commonly  painted. 
In  the  temple  of  St  Sophia,  at  Constantinople,  there  was 
formerly  on  a  white  marble  the  image  of  St  John  the  Bapi 
tist  covered  vrith  the  skin  of  a  camel,  with  thb  only  imp«te 
fection,  that  nature  had  civen  but  one  leg.  At  Ravenna, 
m  Ihe  Church  of  St  Vital,  a  cordelier  u  seen  on  a  dusky 




ttone.  lliey  found  in  Italy  a  marble,  in  which  a  crucifix 
was  80  elaborately  finished,  that  there  appeared  the  nailfli 
the  drops  of  blood,  and  the  wounds,  as  perfecllv  as  the 
most  excellent  painter  could  have  performed.  At  Sneil- 
berg,  in  Germany,  they  found  in  a  mine  a  certain  rough 
metal,  on  which  was  seen  the  figure  of  a  man,  who  car- 
ried a  child  on  his  back.  In  Provence  they  found  in  a 
mine,  a  quantity  of  natural  figures  of  birds,  trees,  rats,  and 
serpents ;  and  m  some  places  of  the  western  parts  of  Tar- 
tary,  are  seen  on  divers  rocks,  the  figures  of  camels,  hor- 
ses, and  sheep.  Pancirollus,  in  his  Lost  Antiquities, 
attests,  that  in  a  church  at  Rome,  a  marble  perfectly  re- 
presented a  priest  celebrating  mass,  and  raising  the  nost. 
Paul  III  conceiving  that  art  had  been  used,  scraped  the 
marble  to  discover  whether  any  painting  had  been  employ- 
ed :  but  nothing  of  the  kind  was  discovered.  *  I  nave 
seen,'  writer  a  friend,  *  many  of  these  curiosities.  They 
aio  ahoayt  helped  out  by  art.  In  my  father's  house  was 
a  gray  marble  chimney-pieco,  which  abounded  in  portraits, 
landscapes,  &c,  the  greatest  part  of  which  was  made  by 
myself.'  My  learned  friend,  the  Rev.  Stephen  Weston, 
possesses  a  very  largo  collection,  many  certainly  untouch- 
ed by  art.  One  stone  appears  like  a  perfect  cameo  of  a 
Minerva's  head  ;  another  shows  an  old  man's  head,  beau- 
tiful as  if  the  hand  of  Raphael  had  designed  it.  Both 
these  stories  are  transparent.    Some  exhibit  portraits. 

There  is  preserved  in  the  British  Museum,  a  black 
•tone,  on  which  nature  has  sketched  a  resemblance  of  the 
portrait  of  Chaucer.  Stones  of  this  kind,  possessing  a 
sufficient  degree  of  resemblance,  are  rare ;  but  art  appears 
not  to  have  been  used.  Even  in  plants,  we  find  this  sort 
of  resemblance.  There  is  a  species  of  the  orchis  found  in 
the  mountainous  parts  of  Lincolnshire,  Kent,  &c.  Na^ 
ture  has  formed  a  bee,  apparently  feeding  in  the  breast  of 
the  flower,  with  so  much  exactness,  that  it  is  impossible 
al  a  very  small  distance  to  distinguuh  the  imposition. 
Hence  the  plant  derives  its  name,  and  is  called  tne  J7ee- 
4bi0«r,    Langhorne  elegantly  notices  its  appearance : 

*  See  on  that  flowret^s  velvet  breast. 

How  close  the  busy  vagrant  lies ! 
His  thin-wrought  plume,  his  downy  breast, 
Th*  ambrosial  gold  that  swells  his  thighs. 

*  Perhaps  hid  fragrant  load  may  bind 

His  limbs ; — we'll  set  the  captive  free — 
I  sought  the  living  bee  to  find. 
And  found  the  piaure  of  a  bee.* 

The  late  Mr  Jackson  of  Exeter  wrote  to  me  on  this 
subject :  '  This  orchis  is  common  near  our  seacoasts ;  but 
instead  of  being  exactly  like  a  bee,  it  i*  not  like  it  at  all. 
It  has  a  goaerai  resemblance  to  ti^y,  and  by  the  help  of 
imagination,  may  be  supposed  to  be  a  fly  pitched  upon  the 
flower.  The  mandrake  very  frequently  has  a  forked  root, 
which  may  be  fancied  to  resemble  thighs  and  legs.  I  have 
seen  it  helped  out  with  nails  on  the  toes.' 

An  ingenious  botanist,  a  stranger  to  me,  after  reading 
this  article,  was  so  kind  as  to  send  me  specimens  of  the 
fly  orchis,  opftrys  musciferaf  and  of  the  bee  orchis,  ophryn 

S pi/era.  "Their  resemblance  to  these  insects  when  in  full 
ower  is  the  most  perfect  conceivable ;  they  are  distinct 
plants.  The  poetical  eve  of  Langhorne  was  equally  cor- 
rect and  fanciful ;  and  that  too  of  Jackson,  who  diflered  so 
positively.  Many  controversies  have  been  carried  on, 
from  a  want  of  a  little  more  knowledge ;  like  that  of  the 
BBC  arehit  and  the  tly  ordaa ;  both  parties  prove  to  be 

Another  curious  specimen  of  the  plajrful  operations  of 
nature  is  the  mandrake ;  a  plant  indeed,  when  it  is  bare  of 
leaves,  perfectly  resembling  that  of  the  human  form.  The 
ginseng  tree  is  noticed  for  the  same  appearance.  This 
object  the  same  poet  has  noticed : 

*  Mark  how  that  rooted  mandrake  wears 

His  human  f'^et,  his  human  hands } 
Oft,  as  bis  shapelv  form  he  rears. 
Aghast  the  frighted  ploughman  stands.* 

He  closes  this  beautiful  fable  with  the  following  stanza, 
not  uoapposite  to  the  curious  subject  <^thU  article ; 

*  Helvetians  rocks,  Sabrina's  waves, 

Sdll  many  a  shining  pebble  bear : 
Where  nature**  studious  hand  engravee 
The  perfea  form,  and  leaves  it  there.* 


Huet  has  given  a  charming  description  of  a  present 
made  by  a  lorer  to  hit  mistress ;  a  gift  which  romance  has 

seldom  equalled  for  its  gallantry,  ingenuity,  and  nofoltj. 
It  was  called  the  Garland  of  Julia.  To  underetand  too 
nature  of  this  gift,  it  will  be  necessary  lo  give  the  faistoor 
c^the  parties. 

The  beautiful  Julia  d'Angennes  was  in  the  flower  of 
her  youth  and  fame,  when  the  celebrated  Gostavus,  king 
of  Sweden,  was  making  war  in  Germany  with  the  most 
splendid  success.  Julia  expressed  her  warm  s>dmiration 
01  this  hero.  She  had  bis  portrait  placed  <m  her  toilettOi 
and  took  pleasure  in  decfarins  that  she  would  have  no 
other  lover  than  Gustavus.  The  Duke  deMontausier 
was,  however,  her  avowed  and  ardent  admirer.  A  short 
time  after  the  death  of  Gustavus,  he  seat  her,  as  a  new* 
year's  gift,  the  Poetical  OarUmd,  of  which  the  foUowing  m 
a  description. 

The  most  beautiful  flowers  were  painted  in  miniatura 
by  an  eminent  artist,  one  Robert,  on  pieces  of  vellum,  aU 
ot  an  equal  size.  Under  every  flower  a  sufficient  space 
was  left  open  for  a  madrigal  on  the  subject  of  that  flower 
there  painted.  The  duke  solicited  the  wits  of  the  time  to 
assist  in  the  composition  of  these  little  poems,  reserving  a 
considerable  number  for  the  eflfusioDS  of  his  own  amorous 
muse.  Under  every  flower  he  had  its  madrigal  written  by 
a  penman,  N  du  Jarry,  who  was  celebrated  for  beautiful 
writing.  It  is  decorated  by  a  frontispiece,  which  repre- 
sents a  splendid  garland  composed  or  these  twenty-oino 
flowers;  and  on  turning  the  pace  a  Cupid  is  painted. 
These  were  magnificently  bound,  and  inclosed  in  a  bag 
of  rich  Spanish  leather.  This  gift,  when  Julia  awoke  oo 
new-year's  day,  she  found  lying  on  her  toilette ;  it  was 
one  quite  to  her  taste,  and  successful  to  the  donor's  hopes. 

Or  this  Poetical  Garland,  thus  formed  by  the  bands  oT 
Wit  and  Love,  Huet  says,  *  As  I  had  long  heard  of  at» 
I  frequently  expressed  a  wish  to  see  it:  al  length  the 
duchess  ot  Uzez  gratified  me  with  the  sa^ht.  She  lock* 
ed  me  in  her  cabinet  one  afternoon  with  thui  garland ;  ahn 
then  went  to  the  queen,  aild  at  the  dose  oTthe  eveiung 
liberated  me.  I  never  passed  a  more  agreeable  afternoon? 

One  of  the  prettiest  inscriptions  of  these  flowers  ia  tbn 
following,  composed  for 


Modeste  en  ma  eouleur,  modeace  en  mon  s^or, 
Francho  d'ambition.  je  me  cache  sous  I*herbe ; 
Mais,  si  sur  votre  front  Je  puis  me  voir  un  JouT) 
La  plus  humble  des  fleurs,  sera  la  plus  supeibe. 

Modest  my  colour,  modest  is  my  place, 
Pleased  in  the  grass  my  lowly  form  to  hide ; 
But  mid  your  tresses  might  I  wind  with  grace. 
The  humblest  flower  would  feel  the  loftiest  pride. 

The  following  is  some  additional  information  respecting 
<  the  Poetical  Garland  of  Julia.' 

At  the  sale  of  the  library  of  the  Duke  de  la  Valliere,  in 
1784,  among  its  numerous  literary  curiosities  this  gartanil 
appeared.  It  was  actually  sold'  for  the  extravagant  sun 
oi  14,610  livres!  though  in  1770  at  Gaignat's  sale,  it  on^ 
cost  780  livres.  It  is  describedi  *  a  manuscript  on  vettum, 
composed  of  twenty-nine  flowers  painted  by  one  RoberC| 
under  which  are  inserted  madrigals  by  various  authors. 
But  the  Abbe  Rive,  the  superintendent  of  the  VaUiera 
Uhrary,  puUished  in  1779  an  inflammatory  notice  of  this 
^rland ;  and  as  be  and  the  duke  bad  the  art  of  appreoin* 
ting,  and  it  has  been  said  making  spurious  literary  ouriosa* 
ties,  this  notice  was  no  doubt  the  occasion  of  the  maniacal 

In  the  revolution  of  France,  this  literarr  otrtoeity  fbmd 
its  passage  into  this  country.  A  bookseUer  oflTered  il  lor 
sale  at  the  enormous  price  of  600f.  sterling !  No  curioas 
collector  has  been  oiseovered  to  have  pnrbhased  tldi 
lutque ;  which  is  most  remarkable  for  the  extreme  felly  oC 
the  purchaser  who  gave  the  14,610  livreo  for  poetry  and 
painting  not  always  exaoisite.  The  history  of  tiia  gat^ 
land  ofjuha  is  a  ctiild's  lesson  for  certain  rash  and  inaji* 
perienced  collectors,  who.may  here 

*  Leam  to  do  well  by  other's  hsrm.* 

TBAOXC  Across. 

Montfleuiy.  a  French  player,  was  one  of  the  gieatsnt 
actors  of  his  time  for  characters  highly  tragic.  He  died  «f 
the  violent  cfibrts  he  made  tn  rrpresmf  inc  Orestes  m  tha 
Andromache  of  Racine.  The  author  of  the  *  Panmsan 
reform^'  makes  him  tbns  express  himself  in  the  shadea. 
There  is  something  extremely  droll  m  his  lamentatiooa, 
with  a  severe  raillery  on  the  inconventencea  to  whkh  imp 
gi«L^etors  are  so  liawo. 



*  Ab !  how  iincerel/do  I  wub  that  tragedies  had  nerer 
been  iarented !  I  might  then  hare  been  yet  in  a  state 
capable  of  appearing  on  the  sta^e ;  and  if  I  should  not 
have  attaanea  the  glory  of  sustaining  sublime  cbaractersi  I 
should .  at  least  have  trifled  agreeably,  aiul  have  worked 
off  my  spleen  in  laughing !  i  have  wasted  mv  lungs  in 
the  violent  emotions  of  jealousy,  love,  and  ambition.  A 
thousand  times  have  I  been  obliged  to  f(Mrce  myself  to  re- 
present more  passions  than  Le  Brun  ever  painted  or  con- 
ceived. I  saw  myself  frequently  obliged  to  dart  terrible 
Ranees ;  to  roll  my  eyes  furiously  in  my  head,  like  a  man 
insane ;  to  frighten  others  by  extravagant  rrimaces ;  to 
imprint  on  my  countenance  the  redness  of  indignation  and 
hatred ;  to  make  the  paleness  of  fear  and  surprise  succeed 
each  other  by  turns ;  to  express  the  transports  of  rage 
and  despair ;  to  cry  out  like  a  demoniac ;  and  consequent- 
ly to  strain  all  the  parts  of  my  body  to  render  tbem  fitter 
to  accompany  these  different  impressions.  The  man  then 
who  would  know  of  what  I  died,  let  him  not  ask  if  it  were 
of  the  fever,  the  dropsy,  or  the  gout;  but  let  him  know 
that  it  was  of  tht  Anarcmaehe  P 

The  Jesuit  Rapin  informs  us,  that  when  Mondory  acted 
Herod  in  the  Myriamne  of  Tristan,  the  spectators  quitted 
the  theatre  mournful  and  thoughtful ;  so  tenderly  were 
they  penetrated  with  the  sorrows  of  the  unfortunate  he- 
roine. In  this  melancholy  pleasure,  ho  says,  we  have  a 
rude  picture  of  the  strong  impressions  which  were  made 
by  the  Crrecian  tragedians.  Mondory  indeed  felt  so 
powerfoUv  the  character  he  assumed,  tliat  it  cost  him  his 

Some  readers  will  recollect  the  death  of  Bond,  who  felt 
BO  exquisitely  the  character  of  Lusignan  in  Zara,  which 
be  personated  when  an  old  man,  thatlZara,  when  she  ad- 
dressed him,  found  him  dead  in  his  chair ! 

The  assumption  of  a  variety  (^characters,  by  a  person 
of  irritable  and  delicate  nerves,  has  often  a  tragical  effect 
on  the  mental  faculties.  We  might  draw  up  a  list  of  ac- 
tors, <vho  have  fallen  martyrs  to  their  tragic  characters. 
Several  have  died  on  the  stage,  and,  like  Falmer,  usually 
in  the  midst  of  some  agitated  appeal  to  the  feelings. 

Baron,  who  was  the  French  Garrick,  had  a  most  elevap 
ted  notion  of  hb  profession  ;  ho  U3ed  to  say.  that  tragic 
actors  should  be  nursed  on  the  lap  of  dueens !  Nor  was 
his  vanity  inferior  to  bis  enthusiasm  for  his  profession  ;  for, 
according  to  him,  the  world  might  see  once  in  a  century 
a  C^Biart  but  that  it  required  a  tnousand  vears  to  produce 
M,Banm!  A  variety  ot  anecdotes  testi^  the  admirable 
talents  he  displayed.  Whenever  he  meant  to  compliment 
the  talents  or  merit  of  distinguished  characters,  he  always 
delivered  in  a  pointed  manner  the  striking  passages  of  tne 
play,  fixing  his  eye  on  them.  An  observaticm  of  his  re- 
■pectiiiff  actors  is  nor  less  applicable  to  poets  and  to  paints 
«rs.  *  Rules,'  said  Uiis  sublime  actor,  *  may  teach  us  not 
to  raise  the  arms  above  the  head ;  but  if  passion  carries 
them,  it  will  be  well  done ;  passion  knows  more  than  art.' 

Betterton,  although  his  countenance  was  ruddy  and 
sansuine,  when  he  performed  Hamlet,  at  the  appearance 
of  the  ^ost,  through  the  violent  and  sudden  emotion  of 
amazement  and  horror  in  the  presence  of  his  father's 
spectre,  instantly  turned  as  white  as  his  neckloth,  while 
his  whole  body  seemed  to  be  affected  with  a  strong  tre- 
mor :  had  his  father's  apparition  actually  risen  before  him, 
he  could  not  ha/e  been  seized  with  more  real  agonies. 
Thia  struck  tho  spectators  so  forcibly,  that  they  felt  a  shud- 
dering in  their  veins,  and  participated  in  the  astonishment 
and  the  horror  so  apparent  in  the  actor.  Dayies  in  his 
Dramatic  Miscellanies  records  this  fact ;  and  in  the  Ri- 
chardsoniana,  we  find  that  the  first  time  Booth  attempted 
the  {{host  when  Betterton  acted  Hamlet,  that  actor's  look 
at  him  struck  him  with  such  horror  that  he  became  dis- 
concerted to  that  degree,  he  could  not  speak  his  part. 
Here  seems  no  want  of  evidence  of  the  force  of  the  ideal 
presence  in  this  marvellous  acting :  these  facts  might  de- 
serve a  philosophical  investigation. 

Le  Kain,  the  French  actor,  who  retired  from  the  Pari- 
sian stage,  covered  with  glory  and  gold,  was  one  day  con- 
gratulated by  a  company  on  the  retirement  which  he  was 
preparing  to  enjoy.  *  As  to  glory,'  modestly  replied  this 
actor,  '  I  do  not  flatter  myself  to  have  acquired  much. 
This  kind  of  reward  is  always  disputed  by  many,  and  you 
yourselves  would  not  allow  it,  were  I  to  assume  it.  Aa  to 
ilie  money,  I  have  not  so  much  reason  to  be  satisfied ;  at 
the  Italian  theatre  their  share  is  far  more  considerable  than 
mine  ;  an  actor  there  may  get  twenty  to  twenty-five  thou- 
sand Uvres,  and  my  share  amounts  at  the  moat  to  ten  or 

twelYe  thousand.'  <How!  the  devil!'  exclaimed  a  rndo 
chevalier  of  the  order  of  St  Louis,  who  was  present, : 
<  How  die  devil !  a  vile  stroller  is  not  content  with  twelve 
thousand  livres  annually,  and  I,  who  am  in  the  king's  scr« 
vice,  who  sleep  upon  a  cannon  and  lavish  my  blood  for  my 
country,  I  must  consider  myself  as  fortunate  in  having  ol>> 
tained  a  pensitm  of  one  tnousand  livres.'  *  And  do  you 
account  as  nothing.  Sir,  the  liberty  of  addressing  me  thus  7* 
repUed  Le  Kain,  with  all  the  sublimity  and  conciseness  of 
an  irritated  Orosmane. 

The  memoirs  of  MadUe  Glauron  display  her  exalted  feel- 
ing of  the  character  of  a  sublime  actress  ;  she  was  ofopi- 
nion,  that  in  common  life  the  truly  sublime  actor  should  be 
a  hero,  or  heroine  off  the  stage.  *  If  I  am  only  a  vulear  and 
ordinary  woman  during  twenty  hours  of  the  day,  whatever 
effort  I  may  make,  I  snail  only  be  an  ordinary  and  vulgar 
woman  in  Agrippina,  or  Semiramis,  during  the  remaining 
four.'  In  society  she  was  nicknamed  the  Queen  of  Car- 
thago, from  her  admirable  personification  of  Dido  in  a  tra- 
gedj  of  that  name. 


These  preachers,  whose  works  are  excessively  rare, 
form  a  race  unknown  to  the  general  reader.  I  shall  sketch 
the  characters  of  these  pious  buffoons,  before  I  introduce 
them  to  his  acauaintance.  They,  as  it  has  been  said  of 
Sterne,  seemea  to  have  vrished,  overy  now  and  then  to 
have  thrown  their  wigs  into  the  faces  of  their  auditors. 

These  preachers  Sourbhed  in  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth, 
and  sixteenth  centuries ;  we  are  therefore  to  attribute  their 
extravagant  mixture  of  grave  admonition  with  facetious  il- 
lustration, comic  tales  which  have  been  occasionally  adopt- 
ed by  the  most  licentious  writers,  and  minute  and  lively 
descriptions,  to  the  great  simplicity  of  the  times,  when  the 
grossest  indecency  was  never  concealed  under  a  gentle 
periphrasis,  but  every  thing  was  called  by  its  name.  All 
this  was  enforced  by  the  most  daring  personalities,  and 
seasoned  by  those  temporary  allusions  which  neither  spar^ 
ed  nor  feared  even  the  throne.  These  ancient  sermons 
therefore  are  singularly  precious,  to  those  whose  inquisitive 
pleasures  are  cratified  by  tracing  the  mannerM  of  former 
ages.  When  Henry  Stephens,  in  his  apology  for  Hdro- 
dotus,  describes  the  irregularities  of  the  age.  and  the  mi- 
nutiae of  national  manners,  he  effects  this  chiefly  by  ex- 
tracts from  these  sermons.  Their  wit  is  not  always  the 
brightest,  nor  their  satire  the  most  poignant ;  but  there  is 
always  that  prevailing  noiuef^  of  the  age ;  running  through 
their  rude  eloquence,  which  interests  the  reflecime  miiul. 
In  a  word,  these  sermons  were  addrcsiTed  to  the  multitude; 
and  therefore  they  show  good  sense  and  absurdity,  fancy 
and  puerility;  satire  and  uisipidity;  extravagance  and 

Oliver  Maillard,  a  famous  cordelier,  died  in  1603.  This 
preacher  having  pointed  some  keen  traits  in  his  sermons 
at  Louis  XI,  the  irritated  monarch  had  our  cordelier  in- 
formed that  be  would  throw  him  into  the  river.  He  re- 
plied undaunted,  and  not  forgetting  his  satire :  *  The  king 
may  do  as  he  chooses ;  but  tell  him  that  I  shall  sooner  get 
to  paradise  by  water,  than  he  will  arrive  by  all  his  post 
horses.'  He  alluded  to  travelling  by  post,  which  this  mo- 
narch had  lately  introduced  into  France.  This  bold  an- 
swer, it  is  said,  intimidated  Louis ;  it  is  certain  that  Mail- 
lard continued  as  courageous  and  satirical  as  ever  in  his 

The  following  extracts  are  descriptive  of  the  manners 
of  the  times. 

In  attacking  rapine  and  robbery,  under  the  first  head  he 
describes  a  kind  of  usury,  which  was  practised  in  the  days 
of  Ben  Jonson,  and  I  am  told  in  the  present,  as  well  as  in 
the  times  of  Maillard.  <  This,'  says  he,  *  is  called  a  pal- 
liated usury.  It  is  thus.  When  a  person  is  in  want  of 
money,  he  goes  to  a  treasurer  (a  kind  of  banker  or  mer- 
chant,) on  wnom  he  has  an  order  for^  1000  crowns ;  the 
treasurer  tells  him  that  he  will  pay  him  in  a  fortnight's  time, 
when  he  is  to  receive  tho  money.  The  poor  man  cannot 
wait.  Our  good  treasurer  tells  him,  I  will  give  you  half  in 
money  and  half  in  goods.  So  he  passes  his  goods  that  are 
worth  100  crowns  for  200.'  He  then  touches  on  the  bribes 
which  these  treasurers  and  clerks  in  oflice  took,  excusing 
themselves  by  alleging  '  the  little  pay  they  otherwise  re- 
ceived. All  these  practices  be  sent  to  the  devils!'  cries 
Maillard,  in  thus  addressing  himself  to  the  ladies.  *  It  is 
for  you  all  this  damnation  ensues.  Yes!  yes !  you  must 
have  rich  satins,  and  girdles  ot  gold  out  of  tliis  accurnrd 
money.    When  any  one  has  any  thing  to  receive  front  ilie 



hmbtiid,  be  must  firit  mtka  a  preaent  to  the  wUe  of  goin* 
fine  gowB.  or  girdle,  or  riof .  If  you  ladiee  and  gentlemen 
who  are  battening  on  your  pleaturea,  and  wear  acarlet 
«dolhet,  I  belioTO  if  you  were  doeely  put  in  a  good  preti, 
we  ■houU  aee  tbe  blood  of  the  poor  gush  out,  with  which 
yonr  ecarlet  ia  dyed.' 

Maillard  noticee  the  feUowing  curious  particulars  of  the 
mode  cXtAtatmg  m  tradt  in  bis  times. 

He  is  violent  against  the  apothecaries  for  their  cheats. 
They  mix  ginger  with  cinnamon,  which  they  sell  for  real 
■pioes ;  ther  put  their  bags  of  ginger,  pepper,  saffion,  dn- 
namon,  and  other  drugs  in  damp  cellars,  that  they  may 
weigh  heavier ;  they  mix  oil  with  saffron  to  give  it  a  co» 
lour,  and  to  make  it  weightier.  He  does  not  forget  those 
tradesmen  who  put  water  in  their  wool,  and  moisten  their 
doth  thai  it  may  stretch ;  tavem-keepen,  who  sophisticate 
and  mingle  wines :  to  the  very  butchers  who  blow  up  their 
SDoat,  and  who  mix  hog's  lard  with  the  fat  of  their  meat. 
He  terribly  declaims  against  those  who  buy  with  a  great 
•Uowance  of  measure  and  weight,  and  then  sell  with  a 
■nail  measure  and  weight;  and  curses  those  who,  when 
they  weigh,  press  the  scales  down  with  their  finger.  But 
it  is  time  to  condude  with  master  Oliver !  His  catalogue 
is,  however,  by  no  means  exhausted ;  and  it  may  not  be 
■miss  to  observe,  that  the  present  age  have  retained  every 
one  of  the  sins  whicb  are  here  alleged. 

The  fi>Uowing  extracts  are  from  Menot's  lermons,  which 
are  written  lil^e  Maillard's,  in  a  barbarous  Latin  mixed 
with  dd  French. 

Michael  Menot  died  in  1518.  I  think  he  has  more  wit 
than  Maillard,  and  occasionally  dipplays  a  brilliant  imagi- 
ttatioa ;  with  the  same  singular  mixture  of  grave  dedama- 
tion  and  &rcical  absurdities.  He  is  called  m  the  title-page 
the  gcidtn4<mgued»  It  runs  thus,  PredicatorU  qui  lingua 
awreti,  tua  tempeatate  mmeupatua  tatf  SermoneM  ouodragt' 
mmaU9f  ab  ^pto  oUm  TStrenia  dedamati,    Parian  1625, 8vo. 

When  he  compares  the  church  with  a  vine,  lie  says, 
'There  were  once  some  Britons  and  Englishmen  who 
wouM  have  carried  away  all  France  into  their  country,  be- 
cause thev  found  our  wine  better  than  their  beer;  but  as 
they  well  anew  that  they  could  not  always  remain  in  France, 
nor  carry  away  France  into  their  country,  they  would  at 
least  carrv  with  them  several  stocks  of  vines;  they  planted 
■ome  in  England ;  but  these  stocks  soon  degenerated,  be- 
cause the  soil  was  not  adapted  to  them.'  Notwithstand- 
ing what  Menot  said  in  1500,  and  that  we  have  tried  so 
onen,  we  are  still  flattering  ourselves  that  if  we  plant  vine- 
yards we  ma^  have  English  wine. 

The  following  beautifd  figure  describes  those  who  live 
neglectful  of  their  aged  parents,  who  had  cherished  them 
into  prosperity.  *  See  the  trees  flourish  and  recover  their 
leaves ;  it  is  tneir  root  that  has  produced  all ;  but  when  the 
branches  are  loaded  with  flowers  and  with  fruits,  they 
yield  nothing  to  the  root.  This  is  an  image  of  those  dulJ- 
ren  who  prefer  their  own  amusements,  and  to  game  away 
their  fortunes,  than  to  give  to  their  old  parents  the  cares 
which  they  want.' 

He  ao(|uaints  us  with  the  following  circumvtances  of  the 
immorality  of  that  age.  Who  has  not  got  a  mistress  be- 
sides his  wife  ?  The  poor  wife  eats  the  fruit  of  bitterness, 
and  even  makes  the  oed  for  the  mistress.'  Oaths  were 
not  unfashionable  in  his  day.  '  Since  the  world  has  been 
worid,  this  crime  was  never  greater.  There  were  once 
pillories  for  these  swearers ;  but  now  this  crime  is  so  com- 
mon, that  the  child  of  five  years  can  swear;  sod  even  the 


oki  dotard  of  eighty,  who  has  only  two  teeth  remaining 
ffing  out  an  oato !" 

On  the  power  of  the  fair  sex  of  his  day,  he  observes, 
'  A  fother  savs  my  son  studies ;  he  must  nave  a  bishop- 
rick,  or  an  alwey  of  500  livres.  Then  be  will  have  dogs. 
horses,  and  mistresses,  like  others.  Another  says,  I  will 
have  my  son  placed  at  court,  and  have  many  honourable 
dignities.  To  succeed  well,  both  emplov  the  mediation  of 
women ;  unhappilv  the  church  and  the  law  are  entirely  at 
their  disposal.  We  have  artfbl  Delilahs  who  shear  us 
does,  ror  twelve  crowns  and  an  ell  of  velvet  given  to  a 
woman,  vou  gain  the  worst  law^sult,  and  best  living.' 

In  his  last  sermon,  Menot  recapitulates  the  various  to- 
pics he  had  touched  on  durini^  Lent.  This  extract  will 
present  a  curious  picture,  and  impress  the  mind  with  a  Just 
■otioo  of  the  versatile  talents  of  these  preachers. 

I  have  tdd  aecUmoMtiea  how  they  shotild  cnndiict  them* 
mIvss;  not  that  they  are  ignorant  of  thrir  diitifi;  Init  1 
■ast  ever  repeat  to  girls,  not  to  suflVr  thi*msrlves  to  he 
4up«d  br  Ihem.     1  have  told  these  rrrlt siasuci  that  th^v 

should  imitate  the  lark ;  if  she  has  k  grain  she  does  not 
remain  idle^  but  feels  her  pleasure  in  singing,  and  in  smg^ 
ing  always  is  ascending  towards  heaven.  So  they  shooXl 
not  a  mass ;  but  elevate  the  hearts  of  all  to  God ;  and  not 
do  as  the  fr(M(s  who  are  crying  out  day  and  night,and  think 
they  have  a  fine  throat,but  always  remsin  fixed  in  the  mod. 

*  I  have  told  the  men  of  the  m  that  they  should  have 
the  qualities  of  the  eagle.  The  first  is,  that  this  bird  wfaea 
it  flies  fixes  its  eye  on  the  sun ;  so  all  judges,  counse3on, 
and  attorneys,  in  iudging,  writing,  and  sisning,  should  al* 
wavs  have  God  Before  their  eyes.  And  secondly,  this 
bird  is  never  greedy ;  it  willingly  shares  its  prey  with  oth- 
ers :  so  all  lawyers,  who  are  rich  m  crowns  after  having 
had  their  bills  paid,  should  distribute  some  to  the 
pvticolariy  when  they  are  conscious  that  thdr 
arises  from  their  prey. 

*  I  have  spoken  ofthe  mamageetaUt  but  all  that  I  haw 
said  has  been  disregarded.  See  thoee  wrMches  who 
break  the  hymeneal  chains,  and  abandon  their  wivea! 
they  pass  their  holidays  out  of  their  parishes,  because  if 
they  remained  at  hcMne  they  must  have  joined  their  wives 
at  diurch ;  they  like  their  prostitutes  better ;  and  it  will  be 
so  every  day  in  the  year !  I  would  as  wdl  dine  with  n 
Jew  or  a  heretic,  as  with  them.  What  an  infected  plaea 
is  this !  Mistress  Lubricity  has  taken  possession  of  tim 
whole  city ;  look  in  every  comer  and  you  will  be  convinced. 

<  For  you  married  toomen  /  If  you  have  heard  tba 
nighliugsie's  song,  you  must  know  that  she  sings  during 
three  months,  and  that  she  is  silent  when  she  Ess  young 
ones.  So  there  is  a  time  in  which  you  may  sing  and  tahe 
your  pleasures  in  the  marriage  state,  and  another  to 
watch  your  children.  Don't  damn  yourselves  for  them ; 
and  remember  it  would  be  better  to  see  them  drowned  than 

*  As  to  louioiof,  I  d>serve,  that  the  turtle  withdraws  and 
sighs  in  the  woods,  whenever  she  has  lost  her  compaaiQB; 
so  must  they  retire  into  the  wood  ofthe  cross,  and  hav- 
ing lost  their  temporal  husband,  take  no  other  but  Josoa 

*  And  to  close  all,  I  have  toM  giHe  that  they  most  fly 
from  the  company  of  men,  and  not  permit  them  to  eoH 
brace,  nor  even  touch  thrm.  Look  on  the  roee,  it  has  a 
delightful  odour ;  it  embalms  the  place  in  which  it  is  placed ; 
but  if  you  grasp  it  underneath,  it  will  prick  you  liH  the 
blood  issues.  The  beauty  ofthe  rose  is  the  beauty  ofthe 
girl.  The  beauty  and  perfume  of  the  first  invite  to  smd 
and  to  handle  it,  but  wtien  it  is  touched  underneath  it 

E ricks  sharply ;  the  beauty  of  the  girl  likewise  invites  the 
and  ;  but  you,  my  young  ladies!  you  must  never  suffer 
this,  for  I  tell  you  that  tvery  Aian  who  does  this,  designs  to 
make  you  harlots.' 

These  ample  extracts  will,  I  hope,  convey  the  same 
pleasure  to  the  reader,  which  I  have  received  py  collecting 
them  from  their  scarce  originals,  little  known  even  to  the 
curious.  Menot,  it  cannot  be  denied,  displays  a  poetic 
imagination,  and  a  fertility  of  concepuon,  which  oistin- 

Ei&ea  him  among  his  rivals.  The  same  tasts  and  popo- 
'  manner  came  into  our  country,  and  were  suited  to  the 
simplicity  of  the  age.  In  I5z7,  our  Bishop  Latimer 
preached  a  sermon,  in  which  he  expresses  himself  thus  ;— 
*  Now  ye  have  heard  what  I  meant  by  this  ,firtt  cerd^ 
and  how  ye  ought  io  vlay.  I  purpose  again  to  deal  unto 
you  another  card  qf  the  tame  auit ;  for  they  be  of  so  nigh 
affinity,  that  one  cannot  be  well  played  without  the  other.' 
It  is  curious  to  observe  about  a  century  afierwardsj  as 
Fuller  informs  us,  that  when  a  country  clergyman  imita- 
ted these  familiar  allusions,  the  taste  ofthe  congregatioo 
had  so  changed,  that  he  was  interrupted  by  peals  of 
laushter ! 

Even  in  more  modem  times  have  Menot  and  MaillanI 
found  an  imitator  in  little  Father  Andr^,  as  well  as  others. 
His  character  has  been  variously  drawn.  He  is  by  some 
represented  as  a  kind  of  buffoon  in  the  pulpit :  but  others 
more  judiciously  observe,  that  he  only  indulged  hn  natu- 
ral genius,  and  uttered  humorous  ana  lively  things,  as  the 
Rood  father  observes  himself,  to  keep  the  attention  of 
is  audience  awske.  He  was  not  always  laughing. 
'  He  told  many  a  bold  truth,  says  the  author  of  Guerre  des 
Auleurs  snciens  et  modemes,  *  that  sent  bishops  to  their 
diocesses,  and  made  many  a  coquette  blush.  He  posyessed 
th^  art  of  biting  when  he  smiled ;  end  more  ably  comliated 
vice  by  his  ingenious  ssUre  than  bv  those  vague  apn*tro- 
phes,  which  no  one  takes  to  himseff.  While  others  were 
straining  their  minds  to  catch  st  sublime  thoujibis,  nhich 
no  one  understood,  he  lowered  his  talents  to  the  most  hum- 



bla  mtuAttoiM,  and  to  ibe  minutest  things.  From  them  ha 
drew  bis  examples  and  his  oomparisons;  and  the  one  and 
the  other  never  failed  <^  success.'  Marville  says,  that 
'his  eipressions  were  full  of  shrewd  simplicity.  He  made 
▼ery  free  use  of  the  most  popular  proverbs.  His  compa^ 
risons  and  figures  were  always  borrowed  from  the  most 
ftmiliar  and  lowest  things.'  To  ridicule  effectually  the 
reigning  viceb,  he  willingly  employed  quirks  or  puns  ra- 
ther than  sublime  thoughts,  and  he  was  little  solicitous  of 
his  choice  of  expression.  Gasparo  Goszi,  in  Italy  had 
the  same  power  in  drawing  unexpected  inferences  from 
mlgar  and  familiar  occurrences.  It  was  by  tbb  art 
Whitfield  obtained  so  n>anT  followers.  In  Pioni's  Brilish 
Synonymies,  VoL  II,  p.  206,  we  have  an  instance  of  Gob- 
si'a  manner.  In  the  time  of  Charies  U  it  became  fashion- 
able to  introduce  humour  into  sermons.  Sterne  seems  to 
have  revived  it  in  his  sermons:  South's  sparkle  perpetu- 
ally with  wit  and  pun. 

Far  different,  however,  are  the  characters  of  the  sublime 
preachers,  of  whom  the  French  have  preserved  the  fdlow- 
Bg  descriptions. 

We  have  not  any  more,  Bourdaloue,  La  Rue,  and  Mas- 
sillon ;  but  the  idea  which  still  exists  of  their  manner  of  ad- 
dressing their  auditors^  may  serve  instead  of  lessons. 
Each  had  his  own  peculiar  mode,  always  adapted  to  place, 
time,  circumstance,  to  their  auditors,  their  style,  ana  their 

Bourdaloue,  with  a  collected  air,  had  little  action  :  with 
•yes  generally  half  closed,  he  penetrated  the  hearts  of  the 
people  by  the  sound  of  a  voice  uniform  and  solemn.  The 
lone  with  which  a  sacred  orator  pronounced  the  words, 
TV  es  ilU  vtr,  <  Thou  art  the  man,^in  suddenly  addressing 
them  to  one  of  the  kings  of  France,  struck  more  forcibly 
than  their  application.  Madame  De  Sevign^  describes 
our  preacher,  by  saying,  *  Father  Bourdaloue  thtmders  at 
Notre  Dame.' 

La  Rue  appeared  with  the  air  of  a  prophet.  His  man- 
ner was  irresistible,  full  of  fire,  intelligence  and  force.  He 
bad  strokes  perfectly  ori^nal.  Several  old  men,  his  con- 
temporaries, still  shuddered  at  the  recollection  of  the  ex- 
pression which  he  employed  in  an  apostrophe  to  the  God  of 
vengeance,  Evaginare  gtadium  tuum. 

The  pvrton  ^  Mtssillon  is  still  present  to  many.  It 
■eems,  say  lus  admirers,  that  he  is  yet  in  the  pulpit  with 
that  air  of  simplicitv,  that  modest  demeanour,  those  eyes 
humbly  declining,  tnosc  unstudied  gestures,  that  passionate 
tone,  that  mild  countenance  of  a  man  penetrated  with  his 
subiect,  and  conveying  to  the  mind  the  most  brilliant  light, 
and  to  the  heart  the  most  tender  emotions.  Baron,  the 
tragedian,  coming  out  from  one  of  his  sermons,  truth  forced 
from  his  lips  a  confession  humiliating  to  his  profesiion ; 
*  My  friend,'  said  he  to  one  of  his  companions,  *  this  is  an 
orator  !  and  we  are  only  aetoro.^ 


There  have  been  found  occasionally  some  artists  who 
could  so  perfectly  imitate  the  spirit,  tlie  taste,  the  charac- 
ter, and  the  peculiarities  of  great  roasters,  that  they  have 
not  unfrequenlly  deceived  the  most  skilful  connoisseurs. 
Michael  Angelo  sculptured  a  sleeping  Cupid,  of  wliich 
having  broken  ofiT  an  arm,  he  buriecl  the  same  in  a  place 
where  he  knew  it  would  soon  be  found.  The  critics  were 
never  tired  cf  admiring  it,  ss  one  of  the  most  precious  re- 
lics of  aniiquibr.  It  was  sold  to  (he  Cardinal  of  St  George, 
to  whom  Michael  Angelo  discovered  the  whole  mystery, 
by  joining  to  the  Cupid  the  arm  which  he  had  reserved. 

An  anecdote  of  Peter  Mignard  is  more  singular.  This 
great  artist  painted  a  Magdalen  on  aconvass  fabricated  at 
Kome.  A  broker,  in  concert  with  Mignard,  went  to  the 
Chevalier  de  Clairville,  and  told  him  as  a  secret  that  he 
was  to  receive  from  Italy  a  Magdalen  of  Guide,  and  his 
master-piece.  The  chevalier  caught  the  bait,  begged 
the  preference,  and  purchased  the  picture  at  a  very  high 

He  was  informed  he  had  been  tm|>osed  upon,  and  that 
the  Magdalen  was  painted  by  Mignard.  Mignard  him- 
self caused  the  alarm  to  be  given,  but  the  amateur  would 
not  believe  it ;  all  the  connoisseurs  agreed  it  was  a  Guido, 
and  the  famous  Le  Brun  corroborated  this  opinion. 

The  dievalier  came  to  Mignard ;— '  Some  persons  as- 
■ore  me  titat  my  Magdalen  is  your  work  !'^<  Mine !  they 
do  me  great  honour.  I  am  sure  Le  Brun  is  not  of  this 
opinion.' — *  Le  Brun  swears  it  can  be  no  other  than  a  Gui- 
do. You  shall  dine  with  me,  and  meet  several  of  the  first 

On  the  day  of  meeting,  the  picture  was  again  more  dc 
\y  inspected.  Mignard  hinted  his  douMs  whether  the 
piece  was  the  work  of  that  great  master ;  he  insinuated 
that  it  was  possible  to  be  deceived ;  and  added,  that  if  it 
was  Guido's,  he  did  not  think  it  in  his  best  manner.'  *  It 
is  a  Guido,  sir,  and  in  his  very  best  manner,'  replied  Le 
Brun  with  warmth;  and  all  the  critics  were  unanimous. 
Mi^ard  then  spoke  in  a  firm  tone  of  voice ;  *  And  I,  gen- 
tlemen, will  wager  three  htmdred  louis  that  it  is  not  a 
Guido.  The  dispute  now  became  violent ;  Le  Brun  was 
desirous  of  accepting  the  wacer.  In  a  word,  the  affair  be- 
came such  that  it  could  add  nothing  more  to  the  glory 
of  Mignard.  *  No  sir,'  replied  the  latter, '  I  am  too  honest 
to  bet  when  I  am  certain  to  win.  Monsieur  Le  Chevslier, 
this  piece  cost  you  SOOO  crowns ;  the  maney  must  be  re- 
turned,—tho  pamting  is  mmt,^  Le  Brun  would  not  believe 
it.  <  The  proof,'  Mignard  continued,  *  is  easy.  Go  this 
canvass,  which  is  a  Roman  one,  was  the  portrait  of  a  car- 
dinal ;  I  will  show  you  his  cap.'^Tbe  chevalier  did  not 
know  which  of  tlie  rival  artists  to  credit.  The  proposition 
alarmed  him.  *  He  who  painted  the  picture  snail  repair 
it,'  said  Mignard.  He  took  a  pencil  dipped  m  oil,  and 
rubbing  the  hair  of  the  Magdalen  discovered  the  cap  of 
the  caniinal.— The  honour  of  the  ingenious  painter  could 
no  longer  be  duputed ;  Lebrun  vexed,  sarcastically  ex- 
claimed, *  Always  paint  Guido,  but  never  Mignard.' 

There  is  a  cullection  of  engravings  by  that  ingenious  art- 
ist Bernard  Picart,  which  has  been  published  under  the 
title  of  The  Innocent  Impoitorg,  Picart  had  long  been  vex- 
ed at  the  taste  of  his  day,  which  ran  wholly  in  favour  ot 
antiquity,  and  no  one  would  look  at,  much  less  admire,  a 
modern  master.  He  published  a  pretended  collection  or  a 
set  of  prints,  from  the  designs  of  the  great  painters,  in 
which  ne  imitated  the  etchings  and  engravings  of  the  vari- 
ous masters,  and  much  were  these  prints  admired  as  the 
works  of  Guido,  Rembrandt,  and  others.  Having  had  his 
joke,  they  were  published  under  the  title  of  Impoftureo  /n- 
nocena.  The  connoisseurs  however  are  strangely  divided 
in  their  opinion  of  the  merit  of  this  collection.  Gilpin 
classes  these  '  Innocent  Impostors'  among  the  most  enter- 
taining of  his  works,  and  is  delighted  by  the  happiness  wi:h 
which  he  has  outdone  in  their  own  excellencies  the  artists 
whom  he  copied  :  but  Strutt,  too  grave  to  admit  of  jf^kes 
that  twitch  the  connoisseurs,  declares  that  they  coti!d 
never  have  deceived  an  experienced  judge,  and  reprobatrs 
such  kinds  of  ingenuity,  played  off  at  the  cost  of  the  ven- 
erable broiherbood  of  tne  cognoscenti ! 

The  same  thing  was  however  done  by  Goltzius,  who  br- 
ing disgusted  at  the  preference  given  to  the  works  of  Al- 
bert Durer,  Lucas  or  Itcyden,  and  others  of  that  school, 
and  having  attempted  to  introduce  a  better  taste,  which 
was  not  immediately  relished,  he  published  what  was  af\er- 
wards  called  his  master-piceeo.  These  are  six  prints  in 
the  style  of  these  masters,  merely  to  prove  that  Goltzius 
could  imitate  their  works,  if  he  thought  proper.  One  of 
these,  the  Circumcision,  he  had  painted  on  soiled  paper, 
and  to  give  it  the  brown  tint  of  antiquity,  had  carefully 
smoked  it,  by  which  means  it  was  sold  as  a  curious  per^ 
formance,  and  deceived  some  of  the  most  capital  connois- 
seurs of  the  day,  one  of  whom  bought  it  as  one  of  the  finest 
engravings  of  Albert  Durer.  Even  Strutt  acknowledges 
the  merit  of  Goltzius's  nunter-pUee*. 

To  these  instances  of  artists  I  will  add  others  of  cele- 
brated author*.  Muretus  rendered  Joseph  Scaliger,  a  great 
stickler  for  the  ancients,  highly  ridiculous  by  an  artifice 
which  he  practised.  He  sent  some  verses  which  he  pre- 
tended were  copied  from  an  old  manuscript.  The  verves 
were  excellent,  and  Scalicer  was  credulous.  After  ha\ing 
read  them,  he  exHaimed  they  were  admirable,  and  sffim>^d 
that  they  were  written  by  an  oki  comic  poet,  Trsbeii.*.  Ho 
quoted  them  in  his  commentary  on  Varo  de  Re  RuHicat 
as  one  of  the  most  precious  fragments  of  antiquity.  It 
was  then,  when  he  had  fixed  his  foot  firmly  in  the  trap,  that 
Muretus  informed  the  worid  of  the  little  dependence  to  be 
placed  on  the  critical  sagacity  of  one  so  nrejudiced  in  fa- 
vour of  the  ancients,  and  who  considered  liis  judgment  as 

The  Abb^  Regneir  Desmarais,  having  written  an  nde, 
or,  as  the  Italians  call  it,  Canzone,  sent  it  to  the  Abb6 
Strozzi  at  Florence,  who  used  it  to  impose  on  three  or  four 
academicians  f»f  Delia  Cnisca.  He  gave  nut  that  Leo 
Allatius,  librarian  of  the  Vatican,  in  examining  carefully 
the  Mss  of  Petrarch  preserved  there,  had  found  two  pages 
slightly  glued,  which  having  sepsrated,  he  had  discovered 
this  ode.    The  fact  was  not  at  first  easiW  credited ;  but 



aftarwaidt  Uw  amiUrity  of  ttyUt  aad 
hi|Uj  probdble.  When  Strosa  andec«iTed  Um  public,  it 
procured  the  Abb6  Regnier  m,  place  in  the  acadenjr,  m  ui 
DOBOuraUe  teatimoov  or  his  ingenmtr. 

Pere   Commire,  'when  Louis  XlV  reoobed  on  the 

tM—mtwl  of  EuUand,  compoeed  n  Latin  fnhle,  entitled 

The  Sun  and  the  Frogs,'  in  which  he  awmned  with  such 

ehcity  the  style  and  character  of  PhBdnis,  that  the 
earned  German  critic  Wolfius  was  deceived,  and  inno- 
MttUy  inserted  it  in  his  edition  of  that  fabulist. 

Faminius  Strada  would  have  deceiTed  most  of  the  cri* 
tics  of  his  age,  if  he  had  given  as  the  wimsins  of  antiquity 
the  different  pieces  of  history  and  poetry  which  he  oooh 
posed  on  the  model  of  the  ancients,  in  his  Prolmmmm 
Aeadenriem.  To  preserve  probability  he  might  have  given 
out  that  he  had  drawn  them  from  some  old  and  neglected 
library  ;  be  had  then  only  to  have  added  a  good  comment- 
ary, tendins  to  display  the  conformity  of  the  style  and 
manner  of  these  fragments  with  the  wons  of  those  authors 
to  whom  be  ascrtbM  them. 

Sigonius  was  a  great  master  of  the  style  of  Cicero, 
and  ventured  to  publish  a  treatise  dt  comaolatuntf  as  a 
composition  of  Cicero  recently  discovered ;  many  were 
deceived  by  the  counterfeit,  which  was  performed  with 
great  dexterity,  and  was  long  received  as  genuine ;  but  be 
could  not  deceive  Lipsius,  who,  after  reading  only  ten 
lines,  threw  it  away,  exclaiming,  *  Vah !  nan  eat  (^09- 
•vnif  P  The  late  Mr  Burke  succeeded  more  skilfullv  in 
bis  <  Vindication  of  Natural  Society,'  which  for  a  fang 
time  passed  as  the  composition  of  Lord  BoUngbroko :  so 
perfect  is  this  ingenious  imposture  of  the  spirit,  manner, 
and  course  of  thmking,  of  the  noble  author.  I  believe  it 
vras  written  for  a  wager,  and  fairly  won. 


Our  Edward  the  Fourth  was  a  gay  and  voluptuous 
prince  ;  and  probably  owed  his  crown  to  his  hanosome- 
ness,  hts  enormous  debts,  and  passion  for  the  fair  sex. 
fie  had  many  Jane  Shores.  Honest  PbiJip  de  Comines. 
his  contemporary,  says,  *  That  what  creatly  contributed 
to  bis  entering  London  as  saon  as  be  appeared  at  its 
gates,  was  the  great  debts  this  Prince  had  contracted, 
which  made  his  creditors  gladly  assist  him ;  and  the  high 
fitvour  in  which  be  was  held  by  the  Bourgeouiat  into  whose 
good  graces  he  had  frequently  glided,  and  who  gained 
over  to  bim  their  husbands,  who,!  suppose,  for  the  tran- 
quillity of  their  lives,  were  glad  to  depose,  or  to  raise  mon- 
archs.— Many  ladies  and  rich  citizens'  wives,  of  whom 
formerly  he  had  great  privacies  and  familiar  acquaintance, 
gained  over  to  him  their  husbands  and  relations.' 

Thb  is  the  description  of  his  voluptuous  life  ;  we  must 
recollect,  that  the  wnterhad  been  an  eye  witness,  and  was 
an  honest  man ;  while  modem  historians  only  view  objects 
through  the  colouring  medium  of  their  imagination. 

*  He  had  been  during  the  last  twelve  years  more  aocus- 
lomed  to  his  ease  and  pleasure  than  any  other  prince  who 
lived  in  bis  time.  He  bad  nothing  in  bis  thoughts  but  U§ 
dmeBf  and  of  them  more  than  was  rtaaonabU;  and  hunU 
ins-matches,  good  eating,  and  great  care  <^  his  person. 
When  he  went  in  their  seasons  to  these  hunting-matches, 
he  always  had  carried  with  him  great  pavilions  for  la 
damea,  and  at  the  same  time  gave  splendid  entertain- 
menu  ;  so  that  it  is  not  surprising  that  his  perK>n  was  as 
jolly  as  any  one  I  ever  saw.  He  was  then  young,  and  as 
handsome  as  any  man  of  his  age ;  but  he  has  since  become 
enormously  fat.^ 

Since  I  have  got  old  Philip  in  my  hand,  the  reader  will 
not,  perhaps,  be  dipleased,  it  he  attends  to  a  little  more  of 
his  fudveU,  which  will  appear  in  the  form  of  a  oonwrsozione 
of  the  times.  He  relates  what  passed  between  Edward 
and  the  kins  of  France : 

'  When  the  ceremony  of  the  oath  was  concluded,  our 
king,  who  was  desirous  of  being  friendly,  began  to  say  to 
the  aing  of  England,  in  a  laughing  way,  that  he  must  come 
to  Paris,  and  be  jovial  amongst  our  ladies;  and  that  he 
would  give  him  the  Cardinal  de  Bourbon  for  his  confessor, 
who  would  very  willingly  absolve  him  of  any  stn  which 
perchance  he  might  commit.  The  king  of  England 
sef  med  well  pleased  at  tlie  invitation,  and  Taugbed  heart- 
ily ;  for  he  knew  that  the  said  cardinal  was  wn  fort  bon 
compagnon.  When  tne  king  was  returning,  he  spoke  on 
the  road  to  me ;  and  said,  that  he  did  not  Uko  to  find  the 
kin^  of  England  so  much  inclined  to  come  to  Paris.  "  Ho 
t«,"  said  he,  *'  a  very  handionu  king :  he  likes  the  women 
too  muoh.    He  may  probably  find  one  at  Paris  that  may 

■nkehim  UkeioeooM  too  often,  or  stay  loo  loaf.    His 
have  ahready  been  too  mucli  at  Paris  and  an 

my  r*  and  that  •'  his  company  was  not  agrnraMs 
fiUssideytAcsss;  but  that,  beyond  the         •     ^^    - 

bo  6sn  firtn  tt  onM." ' 

I  havecalled  Philip  de  Comines  kmwH.  The  oU 
ten,  from  the  simplicity  ol  their  style,  usually  ttenw 
honourable  epithet;  but  somrtimos  they  desuiiu  it  as  t 
as  DMMt  modem  memoir-writers.  No  enemy  is  indeed  i 
terrible  as  a  man  of  genius.  Coonaes*  violent  enmity 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  which  appears  in  these  M« 
has  been  traced  by  the  minute  renearehers  of 
and  the  cause  is  not  honourable  to  the 
whose  resentosent  was  implacable.  De  C< 
bom  a  subject  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  and  for  sevnn 
years  had  been  a  &vorite ;  but  one  day  retuming[^  finm 
hunting  with  the  Duke,  then  Cooat  de  Uharolois,  m  &- 
miliar  jocularity  he  sat  himself  down  before  the  prince,  op* 
dering  the  prince  to  pull  off  his  boots.  The  coum  laughed 
and  <&d  this,  but  in  retum  for  Comhaes's  princ^  iimnn 
ment,  dashed  the  boot  in  his  face,  and  gave  C^Maines  a 
bloody  nose.  From  that  time  he  was  mortified  in  the 
court  of  Burgundy  by  the  nickname  of  the  bnttd  Asad. 
Comines  k»g  felt  a  rankling  wound  in  his  mind ;  and  after 
this  family  quarrel,  for  it  was  nothing  more,  he  went  over 
to  the  kinff  of  France,  and  wrote  oa  his  bile  against  thn 
Duke  of  Burgundy  in  those  *  Memoirs^'  which  give  po^ 
terity  a  caricature  tikeness  of  that  pnnce,  whom  he  is 
ever  censuring  for  presumption,  obstinacy,  pride,  and 
cruelly.  This  Duke  of  Burgundy  however,  it  is  said,  with 
many  virtues,  had  but  one  great  vice,  the  vice  of  sov^ 
reigns,  that  of  ambition ! 

The  unpertinence  of  Comines  bad  not  been  «*^"*«"H 
with  great  severity ;  but  the  nickname  was  never  forgiven : 
unfortunately  for  the  duke,  Comines  was  a  man  of  genius. 
When  we  are  versed  in  the  history  of  the  times,  we  shaS 
often  discover  that  memoun-writers  have  some  secret  poi- 
son in  their  hearts.  -Many,  like  Comines,  have  had  thn 
boot  dashed  on  their  nose.  Personal  rancour  wonderfidly 
enUveiM  the  style  of  Lord  Oxford  and  Cardinal  de  Rett. 
Memoirs  are  often  dictated  by  its  fiercest  spirit ;  and  then 
histories  are  composed  drorn  memoirs.  Where  is  truth  t 
Not  always  in  histories  and  memoirs ! 


This  great  queen,  says  MarviUe,  passionately  admired 
handsome  persons,  and  he  was  already  fkr  advanced  in  her 
favour  who  approached  her  with  beauty  and  grace.  She 
had  so  unconquerable  an  aversion  for  ugly  and  ill-made 
men,  who  had  besn  tre^ed  unfortunately  by  nature,  tha* 
she  could  not  endure  their  presence. 

When  she  issued  from  her  palace,  her  guards  were 
careful  to  disperse  from  before  her  eyes  hideous  and  de- 
formed people,  the  lame,  the  hunch- badied,  &c,  m  a  word, 
all  those  whose  appearance  might  shock  her  fastidioisi 

There  is  this  singular  and  admirable  in  the  conduct  c4 
Elizabeth,  that  she  made  her  pleasure  subservient  to  her 
politics,  and  she  maintained  her  affairs  by  what  in  general 
occasion  the  ruin  of  princes.  So  secret  were  her  amouis, 
that  even  to  the  present  day  their  mysteries  cannot  be  p^ 
netrated ;  but  the  utility  she  drew  from  them  is  public,  and 
always  operated  for  the  sood  of  her  peof\e.  Her  lovers 
were  her  ministers,  and  ber  ministers  were  her  krrers. 
Love  commanded,  love  was  obeyed ;  and  the  reign  of  this 
princess  was  happv,  because  it  was  a  reign  of  £ose,  in 
which  its  chains  and  its  slavery  are  liked !' 

The  origin  of  Raleigh's  advancement  in  the  queen's 
graces,  was  by  an  act  of  gallantry.  Raleigh  spoUen  a  new 
plush  cloak,  while  the  queen  stepping  cautiously  on  il, 
shot  forth  a  smile,  in  which  he  reaa  promotion.  Captain 
Raleigh  soon  became  Sir  Waller,  and  rapidly  advanced 
in  the  queen's  favour. 

Hume  has  furnished  us  with  ample  proofs  of  Ihnjitimim 
which  her  courtiers  feigned  for  her,  and  which,  with  others 
I  shall  give,  confirm  the  opinion  of  Vigneul  Marville,  who 
did  not  know  probably  the  reason  why  her  amours  were 
never  discovered ;  which,  indeed,  never  went  further  at  the 
highest  than  boisterous  or  extreme  gallantry.  Hume  has 
preserved  in  his  notes  a  letter  written  by  Raleigh.  It  is  a 
perfect  amorous  composition.  AAcr  having  exerted  his 
poetic  talents  to  exalt  her  charms,  and  hU  qfieetion,  he  con- 
eludes,  by  comparing  her  majesty,  who  was  then  naay^  to 
Venus  and  Diana.  Sir  Walter  was  not  her  only  courtier 
who  wrote  in  this  style.    Even  in  her  old  age  she  affected 



m  itrange  fondnen  for  moaic  and  dancing,  and  a  kind  of 
childish  drollery,  by  which  however  her  court  seemed  a 
court  of  love,  and  she  the  sovereign.  A  curious  anecdote 
in  a  letter  of  the  times  has  reached  us.  Secretary  Cecil, 
I  he  youngest  son  of  Lord  Burleigh,  seems  to  have  per- 
fectly entered  into  her  ehsjacter.  Lady  Derby  wore 
about  her  neck  and  in  her  bosom  a  portrait ;  the  queen 
espying  it,  inquired  about  it,  but  her  ladyship  was  anxious 
to  conceal  it.  The  queen  insisted  on  navmg  it,  and  dis- 
covering it  to  be  the  portrait  of  young  Cecil,  she  snatched 
it  away,  and  tying  it  upon  her  shoe,  walked  long  with  it ; 
afterwards  she  pinned  it  on  her  elbow,  and  wore  it  some 
time  there.  Secretary  Cecil  hearing  of  this  composed 
some  verses  and  got  them  set  to  music ;  this  music  the 
queen  insUted  on  hearing.  In  his  verses  Cecil  sung  that 
he  repined  not,  though  her  majesty  was  pleased  to  ffrace 
others  ;  he  contented  himself  with  the  favour  she  had  giv- 
en him«  by  wearine  his  portrait  on  her  feet  and  her  elbow! 
The  writer  of  the  fetter  adds,  "  All  these  things  are  very 
secret.'  In  this  manner*  she  contrived  to  lay  the  fastest 
hold  on  her  able  servants,  and  her  servants  on  her. 

Those  who  are  intimately  acquainted  with  the  private 
anecdotes  of  those  times,  know  what  enoooracement  this 
royal  coquette  gave  to  most  who  were  near  ner  person. 
Dodd,  in  his  Church  History,  says,  that  the  Earls  of  Aiw 
ran  and  Arundel,  and  Sir  William  Pickering,  *  were  not 
out  of  hopes  of  gaining  dueen  Elizabeth's  alTections  in 
a  matrimonial  way. 

She  encouraged  every  person  of  eminence :  ahe  even 
went  so  far  on  the  anniversary  of  her  coronation,  as  pub- 
licly to  take  a  rinc  from  her  finger,  and  put  it  on  the 
Duke  of  Alengon^i  hand.  She  abo  ranked  among  her 
suitors,  Henry  the  Third  of  France,  and  Henry  the 

She  never  forgave  Buzenval  for  ridiculing  her  bad  pro- 
nunciation of  the  French  language  :  and  when  Henry  IV 
«ent  him  over  on  an  embassy,  she  would  not  receive  him. 
So  nice  was  the  irritable  pride  of  this  great  queen,  that 
she  made  her  private  injuries  matters  of  state. 

*  This  queen,'  writes  Du  Maurier,  in  theilfemotret  jMtn* 
nrwr  a  PHintmre  de  HoUantUf  *  who  displayed  so  many 
heroic  accomplishments,  had  this  foible,  of  wishing  to  be 
thought  beautiful  by  all  the  world.  I  heard  from  my  fa- 
ther, that  having  been  sent  to  her,  at  every  audience  he 
had  with  her  majesty,  she  pulled  off  her  cloves  more  than 
a  hundred  times  to  display  her  hands,  which  indeed  were 
very  b<«utiful  and  very  white.' 

Another  anecdote,  not  less  curious,  relates  to  the  affair 
of  the  Duke  of  Anion  and  our  Elizabeth,  and  one  more 
proof  of  her  partiality  for  handsome  men.  The  writer 
was  Lewis  Guyon,  a  contemporary  of  the  times  he  no- 

'Francis  Duke  of  Anjou  being  desirous  of  marrying  a 
crowned  head,  caused  proposals  of  marriage  to  be  made 
to  Elitabeth  queen  of  England.  Letters  passed  betwixt 
them,  and  their  portraits  were  exchanged.  At  length  her 
majesty  informed  him,  that  she  woukf  never  contract  a 
marriage  with  any  one  who  sought  her,  if  the  did  not  first 
$n  hupermm.  If  he  would  not  come,  nothing  more  should 
be  said  on  the  subject.  This  prince,  over-pressed  by  his 
young  friends,  (who  were  as  little  able  of  judging  as  him- 
self,) paid  na  attention  to  the  counsels  of  men  oTmaturer 
judgment.  He  passed  over  to  England  without  a  splen- 
did train.  The  said  lady  contemplated  his  penon ;  she 
found  him  ugly^  disfigured  by  deep  scars  of  the  tmaU-pox, 
and  thai  he  had  also  an  ilUthaped  note,  with  awellinga  in  H^ 
ntek  !  All  these  were  so  many  reasons  with  her,  that  he 
could  never  be  admitted  into  her  good  graces.' 

Puttenham,  in  his  very  rare  book  of  the  *  Art  of  Poe- 
sie,'  p.  S48,  notices  the  grace  and  majesty  of  Elizabeth's 
demeanour,  *  Her  stately  manner  of  walk,  with  a  certaine 
granditie  rather  than  gravitie,  marcbinj{  with  leysure, 
which  our  sovereign  ladye  and  mistresse  is  accustomed  to 
doe  generally,  unless  it  be  when  she  walkelh  apace  for 
her  pleasure,  or  to  patch  her  a  heata  in  the  cold  mom- 

•  a 

By  the  folk>wing  extract  from  a  letter  from  one  of  her 
gentleman,  we  discover  that  her  usual  habits,  though  stu- 
dious, were  not  of  the  gentlost  kind,  and  that  the  aervice 
she  exacted  ffimi  her  attendants  was  not  borne  without 
concealed  murmurs.  The  writer  groans  in  secrecy  to  his 
friend.  Sir  John  Stanhope  writes  to  Sir  Robert  Oeal  in 
1598,  *  I  was  all  the  aftemowne  with  her  majestic,  ai  mv 
bookt,  and  then  thinking  to  rest  me,  went  in  agayne  with 
votir  let'ter.    She  was  pleased  with  the  Fi!oMfer*s  atooe, 

and  hath  been  ail  thu  day  mmnMy  qt^tU,  Mr  Ore- 
veil  is  absent,  and  I  am  lyed  so  as  I  cannot  styrr,  bat  shall 
be  al<Ac  toourtt  for  yt,  these  two  dayes !' 

Puttenham,  p.  S49,  has  also  recorded  an  h<Niourable 
anecdote  of  Elizabeth,  and  characteristic  of  that  high  ma- 
jesty which  was  in  her  thoughts,  as  well  as  in  her  actioos, 
when  she  came  to  the  crown,  a  knight  of  the  reahn  who 
had  insolently  behaved  to  her  when  Lady  Elizabeth,  lell 
upon  his  knees  to  her,  and  besought  her  pardon,  suspect- 
ing to  be  sent  to  the  Tower ;  she  replied  mildly,  *  Do  you 
not  know  that  we  are  descended  of  the  &m,  whose  nature 
is  not  to  harme  or  prey  upon  the  mouse,  or  any  other  such 
small  vermin'/' 

dueen  Elizabeth  was  taught  to  write  by  the  celebrated 
Roger  A$cham,  Her  writing  is  extremely  beautiful  and 
correct,  as  may  be  seen  by  examining  a  little  manuscript 
book  of  prayers,  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  I 
have  seen  her  first  writing-book  preserved  at  Oxford  in  the 
Bodleian  Library  ;  the  gradual  improvement  of  her  ma- 
iesty's  hand-writing,  is  very  honourable  to  her  dilligenca : 
but  the  most  curious  thing  is  the  paper  on  which  she  tried 
her  pens ;  this  she  usually  did  by  writing  the  name  of  her 
beloved  brother  EdwardT ;  a  proof  the  early  and  ardent 
attachment  she  formed  to  that  amiable  prince. 

The  education  of  Elizabeth  had  been  severely  classical ; 
she  thought,  and  she  wrote  in  all  the  spirit  of  the  great 
characters  of  antiquity ;  and  her  speeches  and  her  lettera 
are  studded  vrith  apophthegms,  and  a  terseness  of  ideas 
and  language,  that  give  an  exalted  idea  of  her  mind.  la 
her  evasive  answers  to  the  commons,  in  reply  to  their  pet^ 
ti<m  to  her  majesty  to  marry,  she  has  employed  an  eneiw 
getic  word :  *  Were  I  to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  mean  to 
marry,  I  might  say  less  than  I  intend ;  and  were  I  to  tell 
you  that  I  do  mean  to  marry,  I  might  say  more  than  it  ia 
proper  for  you  to  know ;  therefore  i  give  you  an  onsioer, 
answeriess  V 


The  Chinese  language  is  like  no  other  on  the  globe ; 
it  is  said  to  contain  not  more  than  about  890  words,  but 
it  is  by  no  means  monotonous,  for  it  has  four  accents,  the 
even,  the  raised,  the  lessened,  and  the  returning,  which 
multiply  every  word  into  four ;  as  difficult,  says  Air  Aslle, 
for  an  European  to  understand,  as  it  is  for  a  Chinese  to 
comprehend  the  six  pronunciations  of  the  French  x.  In 
fact  they  can  so  diversify  their  monosyllabic  w<Mrds  by  the 
different  tones  which  they  give  them,  that  the  same  char> 
acter  differently  accented,  signifies  sometimes  ten  or  more 
different  things. 

From  the  twenty-ninth  volume  of  the  LtUrea  Edi^flaKlm 
c<  Cwrietue*  I  take  the  present  critically  humourous  ac- 
count of  this  language. 

P.  Bourgeois,  one  of  the  missionaries,  attempted,  after 
ten  months,  residence  at  Pekin,  to  preach  in  the  Chinese 
language.  These  are  the  words  of  the  good  (ather.  *  God 
knows  how  much  this  first  Chinese  sermon  cost  me !  I 
can  assure  you,  this  language  resembles  no  other.  The 
same  word  nas  never  but  one  termination ;  and  then  adieu 
to  ail  that  in  our  declensions  distinguishes  the  fender,  and 
the  ntunber  of  things  we  would  speak;  ameu,  in  tho 
verbs  to  all  which  might  explain  the  active  person,  how 
and  in  what  time  it  acts,  if  it  acts  alone  or  with  others :  in 
a  word,  with  the  Chinese  the  same  word  is  the  substan- 
tive, adjective,  verb,  singular,  plural,  masculine,  feminine, 
&c.  It  is  the  person  who  hears  who  must  arrange  the 
circumstances,  and  guess  them.  Add  to  all  this,  that  all 
the  words  of  this  language  aro  reduced  to  three  himdred 
and  a  few  more ;  that  tney  are  pronounced  in  so  many 
different  ways,  that  they  signify  eighty  thousand  difierent 
things,  whicn  are  expressed  by  as  many  different  charac^ 
ters.  This  is  not  all:  the  arrangement  of  all  these  mono- 
syllables appears  to  be  under  no  general  rule ;  so  that  to 
know  the  language  after  having  learnt  the  words^  we  muat 
learn  every  particular  phrase :  the  least  inversion  wouhl 
make  you  unmtelligible  to  three  parts  of  the  Chinese. 

*  I  will  give  vou  an  example  of  their  words.  They  Cohl 
me  ehou  signifies  a  book  :  so  that  I  thousht  whenever  the 
word  diou  was  pronounced,  a  book  was  the  subject.  Not 
at  all !  ChoUf  the  next  time  1  heard  it,  I  found  signified  a 
Irm.  Now  I  was  to  recollect,  ehou  was  a  book  or  a  Cres. 
But  this  amounted  to  nothmg :  .cAou,  I  found,  expressed 
also  great  heaU ;  dum  is  to  re/ote  .*  dwu  is  the  Aurora  ; 
dum  means  to  be  accuatomed ;  chou  expresses  the  tou  qfa 
wager.  &c.  I  should  not  finish,  were  I  to  aitemot  to  five 
you  all  its  significations. 



*  NotwithstUKltiig  ihesa  ncgular  difficultica,  coukl  oim 
but  find  a  help  ia  the  perusal  of  ihrir  books,  1  should  noi 
eoroplain.  Bui  this  b  inipossibie !  Their  langua«e  is 
qoiitt  dtfiereol  from  that  of  simple  cooversaiioii.  What 
nili  ever  be  an  insurmountabla  difficaky  to  every  Eu- 
ropean, is  the  pronounciatioo :  every  word  may  Iw  pro- 
BOttoced  in  five  different  tones ;  yet  every  t<Mie  is  not  so 
distinct  that  an  unpractised  ear  can  easily  distini^uish  it. 

These  roooosyltables  fljr  with  amazing  rapidity :  then 
they  are  continually  disguised  by  elisions,  which  some- 
times hardly  leave  any  thing  of  two  monosyllables.  From 
an  aspirated  tone,  you  must  pa^s  immediately  to  an 
even  one ;  from  a  whutling  note  to  an  inward  one  ;  some- 
times  your  voice  must  proved  from  the  palate ;  sometimes 
it  must  be  guttural,  and  almoat  always  nasal.  1  recited 
my  sermon  at  least  fifty  limes  to  my  servant,  before  I 
•puke  it  in  public ;  and 'yet  I  am  told,  ihoueh  he  cootin- 
nally  corrected  me,  that,  of  the  ten  parts  of  the  «erroon, 
(as  the  Chinese  express  themselves.)  they  hardly  under- 
stood three.  Fortunately  the  Chinese  aro  woiKlerfuIly 
patient;  and  they  are  astonished  that  any  ignorant 
•tranger  should  be  able  to  learn  two  words  of  their  lan- 

It  is  not  less  curious  to  be  informed,  as  Dr  Ua;:er  tells 
us  in  his  Elementary  Characters  of  the  Chinese,  that 
*  Satires  are  oflen  composed  in  China,  which,  if  yoii  attend 
to  the  cAoroeters,  their  import  is  pure  and  sublime ;  but 
if  you  regard  the  toiu  only,  they  contain  a  meaning  ludi- 
crous or  obscene.'  He  adds,  *  In  the  Chinese  one  ward 
sometimes  corresponds  to  three  or  four  thousand  chara&> 
tars  ;  a  property  quite  opposite  to  that  of  our  language,  in 
which  myriada  of  different  loords  are  expressed  by  (he  aoaie 


In  the  Philosophical  Magazine  for  May  1806,  we  find 
that  several  of  tne  medical  literati  on  the  continent  are 
at  present  engaged  in  making  inquiries  and  experiments 
upon  the  influence  of  muaic  in  the  aare  of  dieeaeea.  The 
learned  Dusaoz  is  said  to  lead  the  band  of  this  new  tribe 
ofamateiirs  and  co^noscenA*. 

The  subject  having  excited  my  curiosity,  though  I  since 
have  found  that  it  is  no  new  discovery,  the  reader  nuvht  to 
receive  indulgently  the  profit  of  my  discoveries ;  all  which 
I  do  not  wim  to  pass  on  him  for  more  than  they  are 

There  is  a  curious  article  in  Dr  Bumey's  History  of 
Music,  *  On  the  Medicinal  Powers  attributed  to  Music  by 
the  Ancients,*  which  he  derived  from  the  learned  labours 
of  a  modem  physician,  M.  Burette,  who  doubtless  could 
play  a  tune  to,  as  well  as  pre^rcribe  one  to  his  patient. 
He  conceives  that  music  can  relieve  the  pains  of  the 
sciatica,  and  that  independent  of  the  greater  nr  1e«s  skill 
of  the  musician;  by  flattering  the  car  and  diverting  the 
attention,  and  occasioning  certain  vibrations  of  the  n?rves, 
it  can  remove  those  obstructions  which  occasion  this  dis- 
order. M.  Burette,  and  many  modem  physicians  and 
philosophers,  have  believed  that  music  has  the  power  of 
affecting  the  mind,  and  the  whole  nervous  system,  so  as 
to  give  a.  temporary  relief  in  certain  diseases,  and  even  a 
raoical  cure.  Dr  Mairan,  Bianchini,  and  other  respecta- 
ble names,  have  pursued  the  same  career.  But  the  an- 
cients record  miracles ! 

Some  years  ago,  the  Rev.  Dr  Mitchell  of  Brighthelm- 
stono  wrote  a  dissertation.  *  Zle  Arte  Medendi  ttpud  Prit-- 
eoa  Mwieea  opt  atque  Carminumy  printed  for  J.  Kirhol?, 
178S.  He  writes  under  the  assumed  name  of  Michael 
Qaspar ;  but  whether  this  learned  dissert ator  be  grave  or 
jocular,  more  than  one  critij  ha^  not  been  able  to  resolve 
me.  I  suspect  it  to  be  a  ^a^ire  on  the  parade  ot'  learning 
of  certain  German  eruditi,  who  prove  any  point  bv  the 
weakest  analogies  and  the  mo^t  fanciful  conceits.  The 
blowing  summary  will  convcv  an  idea  of  this  dissertation. 
Amongst  barbarous  or  half^civilized  nations,  disease's  have 
been  generally  attributed  to  the  influence  of  evil  s;iirits. 
The  depression  of  m>nd  which  is  generally  attendant  on 
Bckness,  and  (he  delirium  accompanying  certain  Htages  of 
disease  seem  to  have  been  considered  as  especially  de- 
noting the  immediate  influence  of  a  demon.  The  effect  of 
music  in  raising  the  en^^rgies  of  the  mind,  or  what  we  com- 
monly call  animal  spirits,  was  obvious  to  eariy  observa- 
tion. Its  power  of  attracting  stmns  attention,  may  in 
some  cases  have  appeared  to  effect  even  those  who'  la- 
boured under  a  considerab'e  decree  of  mental  disorder. 
The  accompanying  depression  of  mind  was  considered  as 

a  part  of  the  disease,  perhaps  rightly  enough,  and  iqasse 
was  prescribed  as  a  remedy  to  reoiove  the  symptooi' 
when  expenence  had  not  ascertained  the  probalHe  caaaoL 
Homer,  whose  heroes  exhibit  high  passions,  bat  not  re- 
fined manners,  represents  ibe  Grecian  Army  as  en^iloyiiif 
music  to  stay  the  raging  of  the  plague.  The  Jewufa  to. 
tioo,  in  the  tuie  of  lung  David,  appear  not  to  have  beea 
much  further  advanced  in  civdizatioo;  accordingly  w« 
find  David  employed  in  his  youth  to  reoMve  the  mental 
derangement  ol  Saul  by  his  harp.  The  method  of  cure 
was  suggested  as  a  common  one  in  those  days,  by  SauTs 
servants ;  and  the  success  is  not  meotiooed  as  a  mirade. 
Pindar,  with  poetic  license,  speaks  of  .£scalapius  heaiiof 
acute  disorders  with  soothing  songs;  but  AsciiUpins, 
whether  man  or  deity,  or  betweoi  Ixith,  is  a  pbysidan  of 
the  days  of  barbarism  and  fidUe.  Pliny  scouts  the  idea 
that  music  should  affect  real  bodily  injury,  but  quotes  Ho- 
mer on  the  subject ;  mentions  Theopbrastus  as  suiggestiag 
a  tune  for  the  cure  of  the  hip  gout,  and  Cato,  as  entertaiiK 

iai  a  fancy  that  it  had  a  good  effect  when  limbs  were 
or  ioint,  and,  that  Varro  thought    it  good  for  the  goat 
Aultts  (ieUius  rites  a  woric  of  Theopbrastus,  wbien  re» 

o!  ioint,  and,  that  Varro  thought    it  good  Sm  the 

iiltts  (ieUius  rites  a  woric  of  Theopbrastus,  wbie 
coouaends  music  as  a  specific  for  the  bite  of  a  viper. 
Boyle  and  Shakspeare  mention  the  effects  of  music  oopep- 
vesicam.  KircheHs  *  Musurgia,*  and  Swinburne's  Trm- 
vels,  relate  the  effects  of  music  on  those  who  are  biuen  bv 
the  tarantula.  Sir  W.  Temple  seems  to  have  given  cred» 
it  to  the  stories  of  the  power  of  music  over  diseases. 

The  ancients  indeed  record  mirades ;  at  least  none  in 
*  the  goklen  legend*  a|>pear  to  be  more  so  than  the  tales 
they  relate  of  the  medicmal  powers  of  mosie.  A  fever  is 
removed  by  a  song,  and  deafness  is  cured  by  a  tnmpet, 
and  the  pestilence  is  chased  away  by  the  sweetness  of  an 
harmonio«i8  lyre.  That  deaf  people  can  bear  best  in  n 
great  noise,  is  a  fact  alleged  by  some  modems,  in  frrov 
of  the  ancient  story  of  cunng  deafness  by  a  trasopet.  Dr 
Willis  tells  us,  says  DrBuraey,  of  a  lady  who  could  Asv 
only  while  a^wm  wa»  beating,  insomuch  that  her  busfanndy 
the  account  says,  hired  a  drummer  as  her  servant,  in  order 
to  enjoy  the  ^easure  of  her  conversation. 

Music  and  the  sounds  of  instruments,  says  the  fively 
Vifineul  de  Marville,  contribute  to  the  health  <^  the  body 
and  the  mind,  they  assist  the  circulation  uf  the  Mood,  th^ 
dissipate  vapours,  and  <^n  the  vessels  so  that  the  action 
of  perspiration  is  freer.  He  tells  a  story  of  n  person  of 
distinction,  who  assured  him,  that  once  being  sndde^ 
seized  by  violent  illness,  instead  of  a  consoltatian  of  phy- 
sicians, 'he  immediately  called  a  band  of  musicians,  snd 
their  violins  played  so  well  in  his  inside,  that  his  bowels 
became  perfectly  in  tune,  and  in  a  few  hours  were  hai^ 
moaiously  becalmed.  I  once  beard  a  story  of  Farinelli  Ike 
famous  singer,  who  was  sent  for  to  Madrid  to  try  the  c^ 
feci  of  his  maincal  vmce  on  tne  King  of  Spain.  Hn  mv 
jesty  was  buried  in  the  profoundest  melancholy,  noihiag 
could  raise  an  emotion  in  him ;  he  lived  in  a  total  oblivion 
of  life ;  he  sat  in  a  darkened  chamber,  entirely  given  up 
to  the  most  distressing  kind  of  madness.  The  physidaas 
ordered  Farinelli  at  first  to  sing  in  an  outer  room ;  and  for 
the  first  day  or  two  this  was  done,  without  any  effect  en 
the  royal  patient.  At  length  it  was  observed,  the  kiof, 
awaking  from  his  stupor,  seemed  to  listen;  ontbensst 
day  tears  were  seen  starting  in  bis  eyes ;  the  day  after  be 
ordered  the  door  of  his  chamber  to  oe  left  open— and  at 
length  the  perturbed  spirit  entirely  left  our  modem  SanI, 
and  the  medidnci  veiee  of  Farinelli  effected  what  no  other 
m<^icine  could. 

I  now  prepare  to  give  the  reader  some  foeU^  which  hs 
may  consider  as  a  tnal  of  credulity— their  authorities  are 
however  not  contemptible.-^Naturelists  assert  \\mx  am* 
mals  and  birds,  as  well  as  *  knotted  oaks,'  as  Congrevs 
informs  us,  are  sensible  to  the  charms  of  mosic.  This 
may  rcrve  as  an  instance:— An  officer  was  confined  in 
the  Bastiie.  He  bei^ged  the  governor  to  permit  him  the 
use  of  his  lot  a,  to  soften,  by  the  hamonies  of  his  insln^ 
ment,  the  rigours  of  his  prison.  At  the  end  of  a  few  days, 
this  modem  Orpheus,  playing  on  his  lute,  was  greatly  a^ 
tonished  t->  see  frisking  out  of  their  holes  great  numbers  of 
mice;  and  descending  from  Ibeir  woven  habitations, 
crowds  of  spiders,  who  formed  a  circle  about  him,  vriule 
he  continued  playing  his  sool-subdoing  instrument,  ffis 
surprise  was  at  first  so  great,  that  be  was  petrified  with 
astonishment ;  when  having  ceased  to  friay,  the  assembly, 
whv  did  not  come  to  see  bis  person,  but  to  hear  his  instrii- 
ment,  immediately  broke  op.  As  be  bad  a  great  dislike 
to  spiders,  it  was  two  days  before  he  veniived  again  to 



touch  his  instruttient.  At  length,  having  conquered,  for 
the  novelty  of  his  companji  his  dislike  of  them,  he  recom- 
menced his  concert,  when  the  usembly  was  by  far  more 
numerous  than  at  first ;  and  in  the  course  of  farther  time, 
he  found  himself  surrounded  by  a  hundred  mutuxU  ama- 
teurt.  Having  thus  succeeded  in  attracting  this  company, 
he  treacherously  contrived  to  get  rid  of  them  at  his  will. 
For  this  purpose  he  begged  the  keeper  to  give  him  a  cat, 
which  he  put  in  a  cage,  and  let  loose  at  the  very  instant 
when  the  little  hairy  people  were  most  entranced  by  the 
Oiphean  skill  he  displayed. 

The  Abb6  Olivet  haa  described  an  amusement  of  Pelts- 
son  during  his  confinement  in  the  Bastile,  which  consisted 
in  feeding  a  spider,  which  he  discovered  forming  its  web 
in  the  comer  of  the  small  window.  For  some  time  he 
placed  his  flies  at  the  edge,  while  his  valet,  who  was  with 
him,  played  on  a  bag-pipe :  little  by  little,  the  spider  used 
itself  to  distinguish  the  sound  of  the  instrument,  and  issued 
from  its  hole  to  nm  and  catch  its  prey.  Thus  calling  it 
lUways  by  the  same  sound,  and  placing  the  flies  at  a  still 
greater  distance,  he  succe<N]ed,  after  several  months,  to 
orill  the  spider  by  regular  exercise,  so  that  it  at  length  never 
fiuled  appearing  at  the  first  sound  to  seize  on  the  fly  pro- 
vided for  it,  even  on  the  knees  of  the  prisoner. 

MarviKe  has  fiven  us  the  foUowtng  curious  anecdote  on 
this  subject.  He  says,  that  doubting  the  truth  of  those 
who  say  it  is  natural  for  us  to  love  music,  especially  the 
sound  of  instruments,  and  that  beasts  themselves  are 
touched  ^th  it,  beine  one  day  in  the  country  I  inouired  into 
the  truth ;  and,  whifo  a  man  was  playing  on  tne  trtmip 
marine,  made  my  observations  on  a  cat,  a  dog,  a  horse, 
an  ass,  a  hind,  cows,  small  birds,  and  a  cock  and  hens, 
who  were  in  a  yard  under  a  window  on  which  I  was  lean- 
hig.  I  did  not  perceive  that  the  cat  was  the  least  aflected, 
and  I  even  judged,  by  her  air,  that  she  would  have  given 
all  the  instruments  in  the  world  for  a  mouse,  sleeping 
in  the  sun  all  the  time ;  the  horse  stopped  short  from 
time  to  time  before  the  window,  raising  ms  head  up  now 
and  then,  as  he  was  feeding  on  the  crass ;  the  dog  contin- 
ued for  above  an  hour  seated  on  bis  hind  legs,  looking 
steadfastly  at  the  player;  the  ass  did  not  discover  the  least 
udicalion  of  his  being  touched,  eating  his  thistles  peace- 
ably ;  the  hind  lifted  up  her  large  wide  ears,  and  seemed 
very  attentive ;  the  cows  slept  a  little,  and  afler  gazing,  as 
though  they  had  been  acquainted  with  us,  went  forward  ; 
some  littleoirds  that  were  in  an  aviary,  and  others  on  the 
trees  and  bushes,  almost  tore  their  little  throats  with  sing- 
iac ;  but  the  cock,  who  minded  only  his  hens,  who  wero 
■oleiy  employed  in  scraping  a  neighbouring  dunghill,  did 
not  snow  in  any  manner  that  they  took  the  least  pleasure 
in  hearing  the  trump  marine. 

A  modem  traveuer  assures  us,  that  he  has  repeatedly 
observed  in  the  island  of  Madeira,  that  the  lizaras  are  at- 
tracted by  the  notes  of  music,  and  that  he  has  assembled  a 
number  of  them  by  the  powers  of  his  instrument.  He 
tells  us  also,  diat  when  the  negroes  catch  them,  for  food, 
they  accompany  the  chase  by  whistling  some  tune,  which 
has  always  the  eflfect  of  drawing  great  numbers  towards 
them.  Stedman,  in  his  expedition  to  Surinam,  describes 
certain  sibyls  among  the  negroes,  who  among  several  sin- 
gular practices,  can  charm  or  conjure  down  from  the  tree 
certain  serpents,  who  will  wreath  about  the  arms,  neck, 
and  breast  of  the  pretended  sorceress,  listening  to  her  voice. 
The  sacred  writers  speak  of  the  charming  of  adders  and 
serpents;  and  nothing,  says  he^  is  more  notorious  than 
that  the  eastern  Indians  will  rid  the  houses  of  the  most 
venomous  snakes,  by  charming  them  with  the  sound  of  a 
flute,  which  calls  them  out  of  their  holes.  These  anec- 
dotes, which  may  startle  some,  seem  to  be  fully  confirmed 
by  Sir  William  Jones,  in  his  curious  dissertation  on  the 
nusical  modes  of  the  Hindoos. 

Afler  food,  when  the  operations  of  digestion  and  ab- 
sorption give  so  much  employment  to  the  vessels,  that  a 
temporaiT  state  of  mental  repose  must  be  found,  especially 
in  not  dimates,  essential  to  health,  it  seems  reasonable 
to  believe  that  a  few  agreeable  airs,  either  heard  or 
played  without  eflbrt,  must  have  all  the  good  effecu  of 
Keep,  and  none  of  its  disadvantages ;  putting  the  aoul  in 
fime,  as  Mihon  says,  for  any  subsequ'int  exertion ;  an  ex- 
periment, often  successfully  made  by  myself.  I  have  been 
assured  by  a  credible  eye-witness,  that  two  wild  antelopes 
used  often  to  come  from  their  woods  to  the  place  where  a 
more  savage  beast,  Sirajuddaulah,  entertained  himself  with 
concerts,  and  that  they  listened  to  the  strains  with  an  ap- 
pearance of  pleasure,  till  the  monster,  in  whose  soul  there 

was  no  music,  shot  one  of  them  to  display  his  archery.  A 
learned  native  told  me,  that  he  had  frequently  seen  the 
most  venomous  and  malignant  snakes  leave  their  holes 
upon  hearing  tunes  on  a  flute,  which,  as  he  supposed, 
gave  them  peculiar  deRght.  An  intelligent  Persun  de* 
clared  he  had  more  than  once  been  present,  when  a  cele* 
brated  lutenist,  suraamed  Bulbul,  (i.  e.  the  nightingale,) 
was  playins  to  a  large  company,  in  a  grove  near  ScniraS| 
where  he  distinctly  saw  the  nighting^es  try  to  vie  with 
the  musician,  sometimes  warbling  on  the  trees,  sometime* 
fluttering  from  branch  to  brandi.  as  if  they  wished  to 
approach  the  instrament,  and  at  len^  dropping  on  the 
ground  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy,  from  which  they  were  soon 
raised,  he  assured  me,  by  a  change  of  the  mode.' 

Jackson  of  Exeter,  in  reply  to  the  question  of  Dryden^ 
'  What  passion  cannot  music  rsise  or  quell  V  sarcastically 
returns,  *  What  passion  can  music  raise  or  quell  V  WouM 
not  a  savage,  who  had  never  listened  to  a  musical  instru- 
ment, feel  certain  emotions  at  listening  to  one  for  the  firrt 
time  ?  But  civilized  man  is,  no  douot,  particulariy  at 
fected  by  aaaockitwn  of  tdeos,  as  all  pieces  of  national 
music  evidently  prove. 

The  Rans  des  Vaches,  mentioned  by  Rousseau,  in  his 
Dictionary  of  Music,  though  without  any  thing  striking  ia 
the  composition,  has  such  a  powerful  influence  over  the 
Swiss,  and  impresses  them  with  so  riolent  a  desire  to  re- 
turn to  their  own  country,  that  it  is  forbidden  to  be  l^ayed 
in  the  Swiss  regiments,  in  the  French  service,  on  paia  of 
death.  There  is  also  a  Scotch  tune,  which  has  the  sane 
eflfect  on  some  of  our  North  Britons.  In  one  of  our  battlee 
in  Calabria,  a  bagpiper  of  the  78th  Highland  regiment, 
when  the  light  imantry  charged  the  French,  postM  him- 
self on  their  risht,  and  remained  in  his  solitary  situatioo 
during  the  whole  of  the  battle,  encouraging  the  men  with  a 
famous  Highland  charging-tune ;  and  actually  upon  the 
retreat  and  complete  rout  of  the  French  dianged  it  to  an- 
other, equally  celebrated  in  Scotland  upon  the  retreat  of 
and  victory  over  an  enemy.    His  next-hand  neighbour 

Siarded  him  so  well  that  he  escaped  unhurt.  This  was 
e  spirit  (^  the  <  Last  Minstrev  who  infused  coumde 
among  his  countrymen,  by  possessing  it  in  so  animatoa  a 
degree  and  in  so  venerable  a  character. 

MurtTTE  WRiTiire. 

The  Iliad  of  Homer  in  a  nutshell,  which  Pliny  says  that 
Cicero  once  saw,  it  is  pretended  might  have  Men  a  fact, 
however  to  some  it  may  appear  impossible.  JElian  no- 
tices an  artist  who  wrotera  distich  in  letters  of  gold,  whicb 
he  enclosed  in  the  rind  of  a  grain  of  com. 

Antiquity  and  modern  times  record  many  such  penmen, 
whose  glory  consisted  in  writing  in  so  small  a  luind  that 
the  writmg  could  not  be  legible  to  the  naked  eye.  One 
wrote  a  verse  of  Homer  on  a  grain  of  millet,' ana  another, 
more  indefatigably  trifling,  transcribed  the  whole  Iliad  in 
so  confined  a  space,  that  it  could  be  enclosed  in  a  nutsheO. 
Menage  mentions,  he  saw  whole  sentences  which  were 
not  percepuble  to  the  eye  without  the  microscope;  and 
pictures  and  portraits,  which  appeared  at  first  to  do  lines 
and  scratches  thrown  down  at  random;  one  of  them 
formed  the  face  of  the  Dauphiness,  with  the  most  pleasing 
delicacy  and  correct  resemblance.  He  read  an  Italian 
poem  in  praise  of  this  princess,  containing  some  thousands 
of  verses,  written  by  an  officer  in  the  space  of  a  foot  and  a 
half.  This  species  of  curious  idleness  has  not  been  lost 
in  our  own  country:  where  this  minute  writins  has 
equalled  any  on  record.  Peter  Bales,  a  celebrated  calU- 
graphist  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  astonished  the  eyes  of 
beholders  by  showing  them  what  they  could  not  see ;  for 
in  the  Harleian  mss,  5S0,  wo  have  a  narrative  of  *a  rare 
piece  of  work  brought  to  pass  by  Peter  Bales,  an  Enlish- 
man,  and  a  clerk  df  the  chancery ;'  it  seems  by  the  de- 
scription to  have  been  the  whole  BiUe  *  in  an  English  wal- 
nut not  bigger  than  a  hen's  ^g.  The  nut  holdeth  the 
book :  there  are  as  many  leaves  in  his  bttle  book  as  the 
great  Bible,  and  he  has  written  as  much  in  one  of  hit 
little  leaves  as  a  great  leaf  of  the  Bible.*  We  are  told 
that  this  wonderfiilunreadable  copy  of  the  Bible  was  seen 
by  many  thousands.'  There  is  a  drawing  of  the  head  of 
Charles  I,  in  the  library  of  St  John's  CoDege  at  Oxford, 
wholly  composed  of  minute  written  characters,  which  at 
a  small  distance  resemble  the  lines  of  an  engraving.  The 
lines  of  the  head,  and  the  ruflT,  are  said  to  contain  the  book 
of  Psalms,  the  Creed,  snd  the  Lord's  prayer.  In  the 
British  Museum  we  find  a  drawing  representing  the  por> 
trait  of  Queen  Anne,  not  much  abm  the  size  of  the  haml. 




On  this  drawing  appear  a  number  of  lines  and  leratches, 
which  the  librarian  assures  the  manrelling  spectator,  in- 
cludes the  entire  contents  of  a  thin  foUOf  which  on  this  oc- 
casion is  earned  in  the  hand. 

On  this  subject  it  may  be  worth  noticing,  that  the  learned 
Huet  asserts  that  he,  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  for  a  long 
ume  considered  as  a  fiction  the  stor?  of  that  industrious 
writer  who  is  said  to  have  enclosed  the  Iliad  in  a  nutshell. 
But  having  examined  the  matter  more  closely,  he  thought 
it  possible. 

One  day  in  company  at  the  Dauphin's,  this  learned  man 
trifled  half  an  hour  m  proving  it.  A  piece  d"  vellum, 
about  ten  inches  in  length  and  eisht  in  width,  pliant  ana 
firm,  can  be  folded  up  and  enclosed  in  the  shell  of  a  large 
walnut.  It  can  hold  m  its  breadth  one  line  which  can  con- 
tain SO  verses,  and  in  its  len|;th  260  lines.  "With  a  crow- 
quill  the  writing  can  be  perfect.  A  page  of  this  piece  of 
▼ellum  will  then  conuin  7500  verses,  and  the  reverse  as 
much ;  the  whole  15,000  verses  of  the  Iliad.  And  this  he 
proved  in  their  presence,  by  using  a  piece  of  paper,  and 
with  a  common  pen.  The  thing  is  nosstble  to  bs  effected ; 
and  if  on  any  occasion  paper  snooid  be  most  excessively 
rare,  it  mayoe  us^ul  to  know,  that  a  volume  of  matter 
may  be  contained  in  a  single  leaf. 


The  learned,  afler  many  contests,  have  at  length 
agreed,  that  the  numeral  ngures  1|  S|  S,  4,  6, 6,  7,  8, 9, 
usually  called  Arabia^  are  of  Indian  origin.  The  Arab- 
ians cilo  not  pretend  to  have  been  the  inventors  of  them, 
but  borrowed  them  from  the  Indian  nations.  The  nume- 
ral characters  of  the  Brahmins,  the  Persians,  and  the 
Arabians,  and  other  eastern  nations,  are  similar.  They 
appear  afterwards  to  have  been  introduced  into  several 
fiuropewi  nations,  by  their  respective  travellers,  who 
returned  from  the  east.  They  were  admitted  into  calei^ 
dars  and  chronicles,  but  they  were  not  introduced  into 
charters,  says  Mr  Astle,  before  the  sixteenth  century. 
The  Spaniards,  no  doubt,  derived  their  use  from  the 
Moors  who  invsded  them.  In  1240,  the  Alphonsean  a^ 
Ironomical  tables  were  made  by  the  order  of  Alphonsus 
X,  by  a  Jew,  and  an  Arabian;  they  used  these  numerals, 
from  whence  the  Spaniards  contend  that  they  were  first 
introduced  by  them. 

They  were  not  generally  used  in  Germany  until  the 
beginnmg  <^  the  fourteenth  century ;  but  in  general  the 
forms  of  the  cyphers  were  not  permanently  fixed  there  till 
after  the  year  1^1.  The  Russians  were  strangers  to 
thorn,  beK>re  Peter  the  Great  had  finished  his  travels  in 
the  beginning  of  the  present  century. 

The  origin  of  these  useful  characters  with  the  Indians 
and  Arabians,  is  attributed  to  thoir  great  skill  in  the  arts  of 
astronomy  and  of  ari&metic,  which  reouired  more  conveni- 
ent characters  than  alphabetic  letters,  for  the  expressing  of 

Before  the  introduction  into  Europe  of  these  Arabic 
numerals,  Uiey  used  alphabetical  characters,  or  Roman 
numeraU.  The  learned  authors  of  the  Nouveau  Trait^ 
Diplomatique,  the  most  valuable  work  on  every  thing  coo- 
eeming  the  arts  and  progress  of  writing,  have  given  some 
curious  notices  on  tne  origin  of  the  Roman  numerals. 
They  say,  that  originally  men  counted  by  their  fingers; 
thus  to  mark  the  first  four  numbers  they  used  an  I,  which 
naturally  represents  them.  To  mark  the  fifth,  they  chose  a 
V,  which  is  made  out  by  bending  inwards  the  three  mid- 
dle fingers,  and  stretching  out  only  the  thumb  and  the  little 
&iger  ;  and  fbr  the  tenth  they  used  an  X,  which  is  a  dou- 
ble V,  one  placed  topsy-turvy  under  the  other.  FrcMn  this 
the  progression  of  these  numbers  is  always  frpm^  one  to 
five,  and  from  five  to  ten.  The  hundred  was  signified  by 
the  capital  letter  of  that  word  in  Latin  C^  centum.  The 
other  letter  D  for  500,  and  M  for  1000,  were  afterwards 
added.  They  subsequently  abreviated  their  characters, 
by  placing  one  of  these  figures  before  another :  and  the 
figure  of  less  value  before  a  higher  number,  denotes  diat  so 
much  may  be  deducted  from  the  greater  number ;  for  in- 
itance,  I  v  si^^es  five  less  one,  that  is  four ;  IX  ten  less 
one,  that  is  mne ;  but  these  abbreviations  are  not  found 
amongst  the  most  ancient  monuments.  These  numerical 
letters  are  still  continued  by  us,  in  recording  accounts  in 
our  exchequere. 

That  men  counted  originally  by  their  fingers,  is  no  in»- 
probable  supposition ;  it  is  still  naturally  practised  by  the 
vulgar  of  the  most  enlightened  nations.  In  more  uncivi- 
lised states,  small  stones  have  been  used,  and  the  etymo- 

logists derive  the  words  adeHfatt,  and  rafmtalim  whidh 
cmaduB.  which  is  the  Latin  terms  for  a  pebble-«tone,  and 
by  which  they  denominated  their  coonters  used  for  aiitli» 
metical  computations. 

Professor  ward|  in  a  learned  dissertation  on  this  nU^ 
ject  in  the  Phikwophical  Transactions,  concludes,  that  il 
IS  easier  to  falsify  tne  Arabic  cyphers  than  ih»  Roflsan  al^ 
phabetical  numerals ;  when  la75  is  dated  in  Arabic  cy- 
phers, if  the  S  is  only  changed,  three  ceniuries  ire  laksa 
away  ;  if  the  S  is  made  into  a  9  and  take  away  the  l,lbor 
hundred  vears  are  added.  Such  accidents  have  aMuredly 
produced  much  confusion  anMOg  our  ancient  manuscrintf, 
and  still  do  in  our  printed  books ;  which  is  the  reason  uini 
Dr  Robertson  in  his  histories  has  always  preferred  wiife 
iM  his  dates  in  tsonds,  rather  than  confide  tnem  to  ibe  «M 
Ota  negligent  printer.  Gibbon  observes,  thai  some  ra- 
markabie  mistakes  have  happened  by  the  word  iml.  in 
Mss,  which  is  an  abbreviation  for  sofdwrt  orihouMnd$i 
and  to  this  blunder  he  attributes  the  incredible  mimbera  of 
martyrdoms,  which  cannot  orfaerwise  bo  aooounied  for 
by  historical  records. 


A  belief  in  iudicial  astrology  can  only  exist  in  the  pet^ 
pie,  who  may  be  said  to  have  no  belief  at  all ;  tor  mere  m* 
ditional  sentiments  can  hardly  be  said  to  amount  to  a  &•• 
titf.  But  a  faith  in  this  ridiculous  system  in  our  coimliT 
is  of  late  existence :  it  was  a  favounte  superstition  wini 
the  learned,  and  as  the  in|renious  Tenhove  obserras,  when* 
ever  an  idea  germinates  m  a  learned  head,  it  sboois  wk^ 
additicmal  luxuriance. 

When  Charles  the  First  was  confined,  Lilly  the  a»> 
trologer  was  consulted  for  the  hour  which  would  mvoiir  Ui 

A  story,  which  stron^y  proves  bow  greatly  Charies  dm 
Second  wan  bigoted  to  judicial  astrology,  and  whose  miad 
certainly  not  unenlighteoed,  is  recorded  in  Bomet's  Wm» 
tory  of  his  Own  Tunes. 

The  most  respectable  characters  of  the  age,  Sir  Wil- 
liam Dugdale,  Elias  Ashmde,  Dr  Grow,  and  others,  wore 
members  of  an  astrologieal  dub.  Congrcve's  duuincMr 
of  Foresight,  in  Love  for  Love,  was  then  no  nnoomaBOa 
person,  though  the  humour  now  is  scarcely  incelligibie. 

Dryaen  cast  the  nativities  of  his  sons ;  and  what  is  rv* 
markabie,  his  prediction  rotating  to  his  son  Charles  took 
place.  This  incident  is  of  so  late  a  date,  one  might  hop^ 
It  would  have  been  cleared  up ;  but  if  it  is  a  fact,  we  ■not 
allow  it  affords  a  rational  exultation  to  its  irratMOil 

In  1670,  the  passion  fbr  horoscopes  and  expoundfaig  tho 
stars  prevailed  m  France  among  the  first  rank.  The  ne«^ 
born  chiU  was  usually  presented  naked  to  the  astarolofsr, 
who  read  the  first  lineamenta  in  its  forehead,  and  the  traoo- 
verse  lines  in  its  hand,  and  thence  wrote  down  its  fuiurn 
destiny.  Catherine  de  Medicis  brought  Henry  IV  then  a 
child,  to  old  Nostradamus,  whom  anuquaries  esteem  mors 
for  his  chroMcle  of  Provenoe,  than  his  vaticinating  powder. 
The  sight  of  the  reverend  seer,  with  a  beard  which  *  stroans- 
ed  like  a  meteor  in  the  air,'  terrified  the  futuro  beRSwbo 
dreaded  a  whipping  from  so  groat  a  personage.  wiQil 
be  credited_  that  one  of  these  magicians  havtog  asaorvd 
" '   m  as  n« 

Charles  IX  that  he  would  live  as  many  day 
turn  about  on  his  heels  in  an  hour  standing  on  one  la^ 
that  his  majesty  every  morning  performed  thai  sotemn  eat* 
eroise  for  an  hour.  The  principal  officers  of  the  ooott, 
the  judges,  the  chancellors,  and  generals,  likewise,  m 
pliment,  standing  on  one  leg  ana  turning  round ! 

It  has  been  roportedofseveiml  famous  for  theiri 
logical  skill,  that  they  have  sudbreda  vcluniary  death 
merely  to  veri^  their  own  prodicttoos;  this  has  been  naid 
of  Coravi,  and  Burton  the  author  of  the  Anatomy  of  Moi- 

It  is  curious  to  observe  the  shifts  to  which  astrologers 
aro  put  when  their  nredictioBS  aro  not  verified.  Qront 
lomot  wero  predicted,  by  a  famous  adept,  about  the  ytmg 
1666.  No  unusual  atorms  however  hamaed.  Bodin,  to 
save  the  roputation  of  the  art,  applied  it  as  a  JIgun  to 
some  mohaimt  in  the  sMs ;  and  or  which  thero  wero  u^ 
stances  enough  at  that  moment.  Among  their  lucky  and 
unlucky  days,  they  protend  to  give  those  of  various  ilfustn* 
ous  persons  and  of  families.  (Me  is  very  striking.*— Thmv- 
day  was  the  unlucky  day  of  our  Henry  VHI.  He,  hb 
son  Edward  Yl,  Cliiaen  Mary,  and  QAoen  Elitaheih,  all 
died  on  a  Tbt»sday!    Tina  net  had,  no  doubt,  gfott 



weight  in  Uii*  eontrorenyof  the  utrologara  with  their  td' 

The  life  oT  Lilly  the  utrologer,  written  by  himself,  is  a 
curious  woric.  He  is  the  Sidrophel  e^  Butler.  It  contains 
so  muoh  artless  narrative,  and  at  the  same  time  so  much 
palpable  impoeturei  that  it  is  difficult  to  know  when  he  is 
speaking  what  he  really  believes  to  be  the  truth.  In  a 
saetch  m  the  state  of  astrtdogy  in  his  day,  those  adepts, 
whose  characters  be  has  drawn,  were  the  lowest  mis- 
creants of  the  town.  They  all  speak  of  each  other  as 
rogues  and  impostMS.  Such  were  Booker,  George  Whar- 
ton, Ghulbary,  who  gained  a  livelihood  by  practising  on 
the  credulity  of  even  men  of  leaminf  so  late  as  in  16^,  to 
the  eighteenth  century.  In  Ashmmes  Life  an  account  of 
these  artful  impostures  may  be  found.  Most  of  them  had 
taken  the  air  in  the  pillory,  and  others  had  conjured  them- 
selves up  to  the  gallows.  This  seems  a  true  statement  of 
fiusls.  But  Lilly  informs  us,  that  in  his  various  confer- 
ences with  angeUt  their  voice  resembled  that  of  Uie  IrWi ! 

The  work  is  curious  for  the  anecdotes  of  the  times  it 
contains.  The  amours  of  Lilly  with  his  mistress  are  cha- 
racteristic. He  was  a  very  artful  man,  by  his  own  ac- 
counts ;  and  admirably  managed  matters  which  required 
deception  and  invention. 

Astroloey  greatly  flourished  in  the  time  of  the  civil  wars. 
The  royaUsts  and  the  rebels  had  their  astn^ogen,  as  well 
as  their  mldien !  and  the  predictions  of  the  former  had  a 
great  influence  over  the  latter. 

On  this  subjf  ct,  it  may  gratify  curiosity  to  notice  three 
or  four  works,  which  bear  an  excessive  price.  The  price 
cannot  entirely  be  occasioned  by  their  rarity,  and  I  am  in- 
duced to  suppose  that  we  have  still  adepts,  whose  faith 
must  be  strong,  or  whose  scepticism  weak. 

These  Ghaldean  sages  were  nearly  put  to  the  rout  by  a 
quarto  park  of  artillery,  fired  on  them  by  Mr  John  Cham- 
ber in  lfi91 .  Apollo  did  not  use  Marsyas  more  inhuman- 
ly than  his  scourgine  pen  this  mystical  race,  and  his 
personalities  made  them  feel  more  sore.  However,  a 
Norwich  knight,  the  very  duizote  of  astrology,  arrayed  in 
the  enchanted  armour  of  his  occult  authors,  encountered 
this  pagan  in  a  most  stately  carousal.  He  came  forth 
with  ^  A  Defence  of  Judicialf  A«tr'^1ogye,  in  answer  to  a 
treatise  latelv  published  by  Mr  John  Uhamber.  By  Sir 
Christopher  Heydon,  Knight,  printed  at  Cambridge  1608.' 
This  is  a  handsome  quarto  of  about  500  pages.  Sir 
Christopher  is  a  learned  and  lively  writer,  and  a  knight 
worthy  to  defend  a  better  cause.  But  his  Dulcinea  had 
wrought  most  wonderfully  on  his  imagination.  Thn  de- 
fence of  this  fanciful  science,  if  science  it  may  be  called, 
demonstrates  nothing,  while  it  defends  every  thing.  It 
confutes,  according  to  the  knight's  own  ideas :  it  alleges  a 
few  scattered  facts  in  favour  of  astrological  predictions, 
which  may  be  picked  up  in  that  immensity  of  fabling  which 
disgraces  history.  He  strenuously  denies,  or  ridicules, 
what  the  greatest  writers  have  said  against  this  fanciful 
art,  while  he  lays  great  stress  on  some  passages  from  ob- 
scure authors,  or  what  is  worse,  from  authors  of  no  autho- 
rity. The  most  pleasant  part  is  at  the  close,  where  he 
defends  the  art  from  the  objections  of  Mr  Chamber  by 
recrimination.  Chamber  had  enriched  himself  by  medical 
practice,  and  when  he  charges  the  astrologers  with  merely 
aiming  to  gain  a  few  beggarly  ponce,  Sir  Christopher 
catches  fire,  and  shows  by  nis  quotations,  that  if  we  are 
to  despise  an  art,  by  its  professors  attempting  to  subsist  on 
it,  or  for  the  objections  which  may  be  raised  against  its 
vital  principles,  we  ought  by  this  argument  most  heartily 
to  despise  the  medical  science  and  medical  men !  He 
gives  hetf.  all  he  can  collect  against  physic  and  physicians, 
and  from  the  confessions  of  Hippocrates  and  Qalen,  Avi^ 
conna,  and  Agrippa,  medicine  appears  to  be  a  vainer 
science  than  even  astrology !  Sir  Uhristopher  is  a  shrewd 
and  ingenious  adversary;  but  when  he  says  he  means 
only  to  give  Mr  Chamber  oil  for  his  vinegar,  ne  has  totally 
mistaken  its  quality. 

This  defence  was  answered  by  Thomas  Vicars  in  his 
*  Madne^se  of  Astrologers.' 

But  the  great  work  in  by  Lilly  ;  and  entirely  devoted  to 
the  adepts.  He  defends  nothing ;  for  this  oracle  delivers 
his  dictum,  and  details  every  event  as  matters  not  ques- 
liorabltf.  He  sits  on  the  tripod  ;  and  every  pa^e  is  em- 
bellished by  a  horoscope,  which  he  explains  with  tne  ut- 
most facility.  This  voluminous  monument  of  the  folly  of 
the  asc  IS  a  <]uarto  valued  at  some  guineas!  It  is' en- 
titled, *  Christian  Astrology,  modestlv  treated  of  ki  three 
books,  by  William  Lilly,  student  in  Astrology,  Sd  edition, 

l<69.'  The  most  curious  part  of  this  work  is  *  a  Cata- 
logue of  roost  astrological  authors.'  There  is  also  a  por* 
trait  of  this  arch  rogue,  and  astrologer!  an  admirable 
illustration  for  Lavater ! 

Lilly's  opinions,  and  his  pretended  science,  were  such 
&vounte8  with  the  age,  that  the  learned  Gataker  wrote 
professedly  against  this  popular  delusion.  Lilly,  at  the 
bead  of  his  star-expounding  friends,  not  only  formally  re* 
plied  to,  but  persecuted  Gataker  annually  in  his  predio- 
ti<ms,  and  even  struck  at  his  ghost,  when  beyond  the  grave. 
Gataker  died  in  July,  1654.  and  Lilly  having  written  m 
his  almanac  of  that  year  tor  the  month  of  August  this 
barbarous  Latin  verse  :— 

Hoc  In  tumbo,  jacet  presbyter  et  r.ebulo 

Here  in  this  tomb  lies  a  presbyter  and  knave ' 

he  had  the  impudence  to  assert  that  he  had  predicted 
(Htaker's  death !  But  the  truth  is,  it  was  an  epitaph  like 
lodgings  to  let :  it  stood  empty  ready  for  the  first  passen- 
ger to  mhabit.  Had  any  other  of  that  party  of  any  emi- 
nence died  in  that  month,  it  would  have  Been  as  appo- 
sitely applied  to  him.  But  Lilly  was  an  exquisite  rogue, 
and  never  at  a  fault.  Having  prophesied  in  his  almanac 
for  1650,  that  the  parliament  stood  upon  a  tottering  foun- 
dation, when  taken  up  by  a  messenger,  during  the  night 
he  contrived  to  cancel  the  page,  printed  ofi*  another,  and 
showed  hu  copies  before  tne  committee,  assuring  them 
that  the  others  were  none  of  hb  own,  but  forged  by  his 


I  have  seen  an  advertisement  in  a  newspaper,  firom  a 
pretender  of  the  hermetic  art.  With  the  assistance  of  *  a 
tUtle  money t*  he  could  *po$Uivdy^  assure  the  lover  of  this 
science,  that  he  would  repay  him  *  a  thoumnd-fold !  This 
science,  if  it  meriui  to  be  distinguuhed  by  the  name,  has 
doubtless  been  an  imposition,  winch,  striking  on  the  feeUast 
part  of  the  human  mind,  has  so  frequently  been  success- 
ful in  carrying  an  its  delusions. 

Mrs  Thomas,  the  Corinna  of  Dryden,  in  her  life  has 
recorded  one  of  these  delusions  of  uchymy.  From  the 
circumstances  it  is  very  probable  the  sage  was  not  less 
deceived  than  his  patroness. 

An  infatuated  lover  of  this  delusive  art  met  with  one 
who  pretended  to  have  the  power  of  transmuting  lead  to 
gold :  that  is,  in  their  language,  the  imperfect  metals  to  the 
perfect  one.  This  hermetic  philosopher  required  only  ths 
materials,  and  time,  to  perform  his  golden  operations.  He 
was  taken  to  the  country  residence  of  his  patroness.  A 
long  laboratory  was  built,  and,  that  his  labours  might  not 
be  impeded  by  any  disturbance,  no  one  was  permitted  to 
enter  into  it.  His  door  was  contrived  to  turn  on  a  pivot ; 
so  that,  unseen,  and  unseeing,  his  meals  were  convejred 
to  him,  without  distracting  the  sublime  contemplations  of 
the  sage. 

During  a  residence  of  two  years,  he  never  condescended 
to  speak  but  two  or  three  times  in  the  year  to  his  infii- 
tuated  patroness.  When  she  was  admitted  into  the  labo- 
ratory, she  saw,  with  pleasing  astonishment,  stills,  im- 
mense cauldnms,  long  flues,  and  three  or  four  Vulcanian 
fires  blazing  at  different  comers  of  this  magical  mine  ;  nor 
did  she  behold  with  less  reverence  the  venerable  fisure  of 
the  dusty  philosopher.  Pale  and  emaciated  with  daily 
operations  and  niehtly  vigils,  he  revealed  to  her,  in  unin- 
telligible jargon,  nis  progresses ;  and  having  sometimes 
condescended  to  explain  tne  mysteries  of  the  arcana,  she 
beheld,  or  seemed  to  behold,  streams  of  fluid,  and  heaps 
of  solid  ore,  scattered  around  the  laboratory.  Sometimes 
he  required  a  new  still,  snd  sometimes  vast  quantities  of 
lead.  Already  this  unfortunate  ladv  had  expended  the 
half  of  her  fortune  in  supplying  the  demands  of  the  philo- 
sopher. She  began  now  to  lower  her  imagination  to  the 
standard  of  reason.  Two  years  had  now  elapsed,  vast 
quantities  of  lead  had  gone  in,  and  nothing  but  lead  had 
come  out.    She  disclosed  her  sentiments  to  the  philoso- 

£her.  He  candidly  confessed  he  was  himself  surprised  at 
is  tardy  processes ;  but  that  now  he  would  exert  himself 
to  the  utmost,  and  that  he  would  venture  to  perform  a  la- 
borious operation,  which  hitherto  he  had  noped  not  to 
have  been  necessitated  to  employ.  His  patroness  retired, 
and  the  golden  visions  of  expectation  resumed  alt  their 

One  day  as  they  sat  at  dinner,  a  terrible  shriek,  and  one 
crack  ftwowed  by  another,  loud  as  the  report  of  cannon, 



^sailed  thoir  eara.  They  hastened  to  the  laboratory; 
tv7o  of  the  greateit  stills  1^  burst,  and  one  part  of  the 
laboratory  uid  the  bouse  were  in  flames.  We  are  told 
that  after  another  adrenture  of  this  kind,  this  victim  to 
alchymy,  after  ruining  another  patron,  in  despair  awallow- 

Even  more  recently  we  have  a  hislorv  of  an  alchynust 
IB  the  life  of  Romnej^,  the  painter.  This  alchymist,  af- 
ter bestowing  much  tmie  and  money  on  preparations  for 
the  grand  projection,  and  being  near  the  decisive  hour, 
was  mduced,  by  the  too  earnest  request  of  his  wife,  to 
<]ttit  his  furnace  one  evening,  to  attend  some  of  her  com- 
pany at  the  tesrtable.  Wmle  the  projector  was  attending 
the  ladies  his  furnace  blew  up !  In  consequence  of  this 
event,  he  conceived  such  an  antipathy  ■fiunst  his  wife, 
that  he  could  not  endure  the  iaea  of  nving  with  her 

Henry  VI  was  so  reduced  by  his  extravagances,  that 
Evelyn  observes  in  his  Numismata,  he  endeavoured  to  re- 
cruit his  empty  coffers  by  afcAyn^.  The  record  of  this 
angular  proposition  contains  *  The  most,  solemn  and 
lenous  account  of  the  feasibility  and  virtues  of  the  phi- 
lMophei*a  MUnUf  encouraging  the  search  after  it,  and  dis- 
pensing with  all  statutes  and  prohibitions  to  the  contrary.* 
This  record  was  very  probably  rommunicatiHi  (says  an  m- 
genious  antiquary)  Dy  Mr  Selden,  to  his  beloved  friend 
Ben  Jonson,  when  he  was  writing  his  comedy  of  the  Al- 

After  this  patent  was  published,  many  promised  to  an- 
swer the  king*s  expectations  so  effectually  (the  same  writer 
adds)  that  Uie  next  year  he  published  aiuxther  patent ; 
wherein  he  tells  his  subjects,  that  the  happy  hour  was 
drawing  nigh,  and  by  means  of  the  stone,  which  he  should 
■oon  be  master  of,  hewouldpay  all  the  debts  of  the  nation, 
in  real  gold  and  aUoer,  Tne  perwms  picked  out  for  his 
new  operators  were  as  remarkable  as  the  patent  itself, 
being  a  most  <  miscellaneous  rabble*  of  friars,  grocers, 
mercers,  and  fishmongers ! 

This  patent  was  ukewisc  granted  axUhoritate  parUa^ 

Prynne,  who  has  given  this  patent  in  his  Aurum  Rogi- 
Mi,  p.  1S6,  concludes  with  this  sarcastic  observation : — '  A 
project  never  so  seasonable  and  necessary  as  now!* 
And  this  we  repeat,  and  our  successors  will  no  doubt  itni- 
late  us!' 

Alchymists  were  formerly  called  nmltipliera;  as  appears 
firom  a  statute  of  Henry  IV  repealed  in  the  precedmg  re- 
cord. The  statute  being  extremely  short,  I  give  it  for  the' 
reader's  satisfaction. 

*  None  from  henceforth  shall  use  to  muUipfy  gold  or  sil- 
ver, or  use  the  erajt  ofnnUtnUeatian:  and  if  any  the  same 
do,  he  shall  incur  the  pain  of  felony.' 

Every  philosophical  mind  must  t>e  convinced  that  alchy- 
my  is  not  an  art,  which  some  have  fancifully  traced  to  tne 
rtmoiott  timeo;  it  may  be  rather  regarded,  when  opposed 
to  such  a  distance  of  time,  as  a  modem  imposture.  Giesar 
commanded  the  treatises  of  akhymy  to  be  burnt  through- 
out the  Roman  dominions :  Cnsar,  who  ii  not  less  to  oe 
admired  as  a  j^ilosopher  than  as  a  monarch. 
.  Mr  Gibbon  has  this  succinct  passage  relative  to  alchy- 
ny :  '  The  ancient  books  of  alchymy,  so  liberally  ascribed 
to  Pythagoras,  to  Solomon,  or  to  Hermes,  were  the  pious 
frauds  of  more  recent  adepts.  The  Greeks  were  inat- 
tentive either  to  the  use  or  the  abuse  of  chemutry.  In 
that  immense  register,  where  Piny  has  deposited  tne  dis- 
coveries, the  arts,  and  the  errors  oif  mankind,  there  is  not 
the  least  mention  of  the  transmutations  of  metals ;  and  the 
persecution  of  Diodesian  is  the  first  authentic  eveni  in  the 
Mstory  of  alchymy.  The  conquest  of  Egypt  by  the 
Arabs,  diffused  that  vain  science  over  the  globe.    Con- 

Snual  to  the  avarice  of  the  human  heart,  it  was  sludi<«d  in 
hina,  as  in  Europe,  with  equal  eagerness  and  equal 
success.  The  darlmess  of  the  middle  ages  ensured  a 
&vourable  reception  to  every  tale  of  wonder ;  and  the  re- 
vival of  learning  gave  new  vigour  to  hope,  and  suggested 
more  specious  arU  to  deception.  Philosophy,  with  the 
aid  of  experience,  has  at  length  banished  the  study  of  al- 
chymy ;  and  the  present  age,  however  desirous  of  riches, 
is  content  to  seek  them  by  tne  humbler  means  of  commerce 
and  industry.' 

Elias  Asnmole  writes  in  nil  diary— '  May  13, 175S.  My 
father  Bachouse  (an  astrologer  who  had  sudopted  him  for 
hiy  aoQ— «  common  practice  with  these  men)  lying  sick  in 
FlMt-street,  over  against  Saint  Dunstan's  chureh,  and 
Dot  knowing  whetber  he  should  live  or  die,  about  eleven  of 

the  dock,  toU  me  in  t^UabU»  the  true  matter  of  the  jritt- 
loaopher'a  stone,  which  he  bequeathed  to  me  as  a  Ugatg^ 
By  this  we  learn  that  a  miserable  wretch  knew  the  art  of 
nuAing  goidy  yet  always  lived  a  beggar ;  and  that  Ash* 
mole  really  imagined  he  was  in  possession  of  th«  tgOMm 
of  a  wtcrd  I  he  has  however  built  a  curious  monomcnt  of 
toe  learned  follies  of  the  last  age,  in  his  *  Thsatium  Ch«» 
micum  Britannicuin.'  Thouf  h  Ashroole  is  ratlier  tbo 
historian  of  this  vain  science,  than  an  adept,  it  may  amuao 
literary  leisure  to  turn  over  thia  quarto  volume,  m  whiefa 
he  has  collected  the  works  of  several  English  alchymists, 
subjoining  his  comment  aiy.  1 1  affords  a  curious  ^ecioMa 
of  Kosicrocian  mysteries;  and  Asbmde  relates  storing 
which  vie  for  the  miraculous,  with  the  wikiest  fancieB  cr 
Arabian  invention.  Of  the  philosopher's  stone  be  sayt, 
be  knows  enough  to  hold  his  tonpie,  but  not  enough  to 
speak.  This  stone  has  not  only  the  power  of  transmuting 
any  imperfect  earthy  matter  into  its  utmost  degree  of  f»«r> 
fection,  and  can  convert  the  basest  metals  into  gold,  fliutt 
into  stone,  &c,  but  it  has  still  more  occult  virtues,  wbeo 
the  arcana  have  been  entered  mto,  by  the  choke  fathers  of 
hermetic  mysteries.  The  vegetable  stone  has  power  over 
the  natures  of  man,  beast,  fowls,  fishes,  and  all  kinds  o^ 
trees  and  plants,  to  make  them  ffourtsh  and  bear  fruit  at 
any  time.  The  magical  stone  discovers  any  person  wbeiw 
ever  he  is  concealed ;  while  the  angelical  stone  gives  tho 
apparitions  of  angels,  and  a  power  of  converamg  with 
them.  These  great  mysteries  are  supported  by  occasional 
facta,  and  illustrated  oy  prints  of  the  most  ditine  and  in* 
comprehensible  designs,  which  we  would  hope  were  in- 
telligible to  the  initiated.  It  may  be  worth  showing,  how* 
ever,  how  liable  even  the  latter  were  to  blunder  on  tlieao 
mysterious  hieroglyphics.  Asbmde,  in  one  of  hio  che- 
micid  works,  prefixecl  a  frontispiece,  which,  in  aeveridcuaw 
partments,  exhibited  Phoebus  on  a  lion,  and  oppocito  to 
nim  a  lady,  who  represented  Diana,  with  the  moon  in 
one  hand  and  an  arrow  in  the -^l her,  sitting  on  a  crab; 
Mercury  on  a  tripod,  with  the  scheme  of  the  heavens  in 
one  hand,  and  his  caduceos  in  the  other.  These  were  in- 
tended to  express  the  materials  of  the  stone,  and  the  sea* 
son  for  the  process.  Upon'  the  altar  is  the  bust  of  a  man, 
his  head  covered  \gj  an  astrological  scheme  dropped  Crom 
the  clouds ;  and  on  the  altar  a"e  these  words,  Mercimo* 
philus  Anglicus,  i.  e.  the  English  lover  of  hermeUe  phitc^ 
sophy.  There  is  a  tree,  and  a  little  creature  gnawing  tho 
root,  a  pillar  adorned  with  musical  and  tnathematical  in- 
struments, and  another  with  mibtary  enstgna.  This 
strange  composition  created  great  inquiry  among  the  cfai»- 
mical  sages.  Deep  mysteries  were  conjectured  to  be 
veiled  by  it.  Verses  were  written  in  the  higfaMt  ttnua 
of  the  Rodcrucian  language.  ./Islbnoltoonfeased  no  meant 
nothing  more  than  a  kind  of  jnm  on  his  own  name,  for  tho 
tree  was  the  ot/i,  and  the  creature  was  a  mo<p.  One  pHlar 
tells  his  love  of  music  and  freo-masoory,  and  the  other  bis 
military  preferment,  and  astrological  studies !  He  aftof- 
wards  regretted  that  no  one  added  a  second  volume  to  bis 
work,  from  which  he  himaelf  had  been  hindered,  fir  tho 
honour  of  the  family  of  Hermes,  and  *  to  show  the  worid 
what  excellent  men  we  had  once  of  our  nation,  famous  fiir 
this  kind  of  philosophy,  and  masters  of  so  tranoeendaot  a 

Modem  chemistry  is  not  without  a  Aope,  not  to  say  a 
cerfomiy,  of  ▼erifying  the  golden  visions  of  the  alcbymiol. 
Dr  Ginanger,  of  Uottinien,  has  lately  adventured  toe  fol* 
lowing  prophecy ;  *  In  the  mnete^ncA  etnOMBrji  the  trannMK 
taiion  of  metals  will  be  generally  known  and  praetised. 
Every  chemist  and  every  artist  will  moAs  gdi  :  kitchen 
utensils  will  be  of  silver,  and  even  of  goU,  which  wUl 
contribute  more  than  anything  else  to/}fo{mg'l{]r«,  poiooood 
at  present  by  the  oxides  of  copper,  lead,  and  iron,  which 
we  daily  swallow  with  our  food.'  Phil.  Mag.  VoL  VI, 
p.  iS88.  This  sublime  chemist,  tbeogh  he  does  not  veiv- 
ture  to  predict  that  universal  s^wcr,  which  is  to  prolong  XiSm 
at  pleasure,  yet  approximates  to  it.  A  chemical  frieod 
writes  to  me,  that  *  The  msCols  seem  to  bo  compoM/e  \m» 
dies,  which  nature  is  perpetually  preparing :  and  it  may 
be  reserved  for  the  future  researciies  of  science  to  traco^ 
and  perhaps,  to  imitate,  some  of  these  curious  operft* 


If  it  were  inquired  of  an  ingenious  writer  what  pace  oT 
his  work  had  occasioned  him  mrvit  perplexity,  be  woul^ 
oflen  point  to  the  licb  pa«e.  That  cnriuiiv  wirich  wo 
wouki  excito,  b  mott  fastidious  to  gmtify.    Vit  stich  ii 



thfl  perreraity  oTman,  thai  a  roodost  BimpUcity  will  fail  to 
attract;  we  ar«  only  to  be  allured  by  paint  and  patches, 
and  yet  we  complain  that  we  are  duped ! 

Among  those  who  appear  to  have  felt  this  irksome  sitaa- 
tion,  are  most  ofour  periodical  writers.  The  *  TatleH  and 
the  *  Spectator*  enjoying^  priority  of  conception,  have  adopt- 
ed titles  with  charactenstic  felicity ;  but  perhaps  the  m- 
vention  of  the  authors  begins  to  fail  in  the  *  Reader/  the 

*  Lover,'  and  the  '  Theatre !'  Succeeding  writers  were 
as  unfortunate  in  then*  titles,  as  their  works ;  such  are  the 

*  Universal  Spectator,*  and  the  <  Lay  Monastery.'  The 
copious  mind  of  Johnson  could  not  discover  an  appropri- 
ate title,  and  indeed,  in  the  6r8t  *  Idler,'  acknowledged  bis 
despair.  The  *  Rambler*  was  so  little  understood,  at  the 
time  of  its  appearance,  tliat  a  French  Journalist  haa  trana- 
latad  it  *  Le  CSuwMer  Errant^  and  when  it  was  corrected 
to  V Errant,  a  foreigner  drank  Johnson's  health  one  day, 
by  innocently  addressing  him  by  the  appellation  of  Mr 
vagabond !  The  '  Adventurer*  cannot  be  considered  as 
a  fortunate  title ;  it  is  not  appropriate  to  those  pleasing 
miscellanies,  for  any  writer  is  an  adventurer.  The '  Loung- 
er,' the  '  Mirror,'  uid  even  the  '  Connoisseur,'  if  examined 
accurately,  present  nothing  in  the  titles  descriptive  of  the 
w(M^s.  As  for  the  <  World,'  it  could  only  have  been  given 
by  the  fashionable  egotiam  of  its  authors,  who  con«idered 
the  world  as  mere^  a  little  circuit  round  Saint  James's 
Street.  When  the  celebrated  father  of  all  reviews,  Let 
Jmsmai  de§  Sqavam,  was  first  published,  the  ver^  title 
repulsed  the  punlic.  The  author  was  obliged  in  his  suc- 
ceeding volumes  to  soften  it  down,  by  explaining  its  gene- 
ral tendency.  He  there  assures  the  curious,  that  not  only 
men  of  learning  and  taste,  but  the  humblest  mechanic  may 
find  a  profitable  amusement.  An  English  novel,  publish- 
ed witn  the  title  of  <  The  Champion  of  Virtoe,'  could  find 
no  readers ;  it  was  quaint,  formal,  and  sounded  like  *  The 
Rlgrim's  Progress.'  It  aherwards  passed  through  several 
editions  under  the  happier  invitation  of  'The  Old  English 
Baron.'  '  The  Concubine,'  a  poem  by  Mickle,  could 
never  find  purchasers,  till  it  assumed  the  more  delicate  title 
of « Sir  Martyn.' 

As  a  subiect  o(  literary  curiosity,  some  amusement  may 
bo  gathered  from  a  glance  at  what  has  been  doing  in  the 
wond,  concerning  this  important  portion  of  every  Mok. 

Baillet  m  his  '  Decisions  of  the  Learned,'  has  made 
Ytry  extensive  researches,  for  the  matter  was  important  to 
a  student  of  BaiUel's  character. 

The  Jewish  and  many  oriental  authors  were  fond  of 
allegorical  titles,  which  always  indicate  the  most  puerile 
ace  of  taste.  The  titles  were  usually  adapted'to  their 
^scure  works.  It  might  exercise  an  able  enigmatist  to 
explain  their  tUlusions ;  for  we  must  understand  by  *  The 
Heart  of  Aaron,'  that  it  is  a  commentary  on  several  of 
the  prophets.  *  The  Bones  of  Joseph'  is  an  introduction  to 
the  Talmud.  *  The  Garden  of  Nuts,*  and  *  The  Golden 
Apples,'  are  theological  questions,  and  *  The  Pomegran- 
ate with  its  Flower,'  is  a  treatise  of  ceremonies,  not  any 
more  practised.  Jortin  gives  a  title,  which  he  says  of  all 
the  fantastical  titles  he  can  recollect,  is  one  of  the  pret- 
tiest. A  rabbin  published  a  catalogue  of  rabbinical  wri- 
ters, and  called  it  Labia  Donnientiumt  from  Cantic.  vii,  9, 
*  Like  the  best  wine  of  my  beloved  that  goeth  down  sweet- 
ly, causinv  C^  Up»  of  thoie  that  are  aaUep  to  tpeak.*  It 
hath  a  double  meaning,  of  which  he  was  not  aware,  for 
most  of  his  rabbinical  brethren  talk  very  much  like  men  in 
their  sleep. 

Almost  all  their  works  bear  such  titles  as  bread — gold 
—silver— rose»— eyes — fcc,  in  a  word,  any  thing  tliat  »ig< 
nifies  nothing. 

Affecred  title-pages  were  not  peculiar  to  the  oriental- 
ists :  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans  have  shown  a  finer 
taste.  They  had  their  Cornucopias  or  horns  of  abund- 
ance.—Limones  or  meadows— Pinakidtons  or  tablets-^ 
Pancarpes  or  all  sorts  of  fruit;  titles  not  unhapoily  adapt- 
ed for  the  miscetlanists.  The  nine  books  of  Herodotus, 
and  the  nine  epistles  of  ^schtnes,  were  respectively  hon- 
oured by  the  name  of  a  Muse ;  and  three  orations  of  the 
latier,  by  those  of  the  Graces. 

The  modem  fanatics  hsve  had  a  most  barbarous  taste 
for  titles.  We  could  produce  numbers  from  abroad  and 
at  home.  Some  works  have  been  called,  <  Matches 
lighted  by  the  divine  Fire,'— and  one  *  The  Gun  of  Peni- 
tonce :  a  collection  of  passages  from  the  fathers,  is  called 
*  The  Shop  of  the  Spiritual  Apothecary  ;*  we  have  « Tho 
Bank  of  Faith,'  and  *The  Sixpennyworth  of  Divine 
Spirit  .-*  one  of  theae  <«orka  bears  the  following  elaborate 

title;  *  Some  fine  Baskets  baked  in  the  Oven  of  Charity, 
carefully  conserved  for  the  Chickens  of  the  Church,  the 
Sparrows  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  sweet  Swallows  of  Sal- 
vation.' Sometimes  their  quainmess  has  some  humour. 
One  Sir  Humphrey  Lind,  a  zealous  puriun,  published  « 
work  which  a  Jesuit  answered  by  another,  entitled  *  A 
pair  of  Spectacles  for  Sir  Humphrey  Lind.*  Tho  doughty 
knight  retorted,  by  a  *Case  for  Sir  Humphrey  Lmd's 
Spectacles.'  "^ 

Some  of  these  obscure  titles  have  an  entertaining  ab- 
surdity; as  *The  three  Daughters  of  Job,*  which  is  a 
treatise  on  the  three  virtues  of  patience,  fortitude,  and 
pain.  <  The  Innocent  Love,  or  the  holy  Knight,'  is  a  de- 
scription of  the  ardours  of  a  saint  for  the  Virgin.  <  The 
Sound  of  the  Trumpet,'  is  a  work  on  the  day  ofjudgment ; 
and  <  A  Fan  to  drive  away  Flies,'  is  a  theological  treatise 
00  purgatory. 

We  must  not  write  to  the  utter  neglect  ofour  title ;  and 
a  fair  author  should  have  the  literary  piety  of  ever  having 

*  tho  fear  of  his  title-pase  before  his  eyes.'  The  following 
are  improper  titles.  T5on  Matthews,  chief  huntsman  to 
Philip  IV  of  Spain,  entitled  his  book  *  The  Origin  and 
Dignity  of  the  Royal  House,*  but  the  entire  wotIc  relates 
only  to  hunting.  De  Chanierene  composed  several  moral 
essays,  which  being  at  a  loss  bow  to  entitle,  he  called 

*  The  Education  of  a  Prince.'  He  would  persuade  the 
reader  in  his  preface,  that  though  they  were  not  composed 
with  a  view  to  this  subject,  thoy  should  not,  however,  be 
censured  for  the  title,  as  they  partly  related  to  the  educa- 
tion of  a  prince.  The  world  were  too  sagacious  to  bo 
duped  ;  and  the  author  in  his  second  edition  acknowledges 
the  absurdity,  Brops  '  the  magnificent  title,'  and  calls  liis 
work  *  Moral  Essays.'  Montaigne's  immortal  history  of 
his  own  mind,  for  such  are  his  *  Essays,'  have  assumed 
perhaps  too  modest  a  title,  and  not  sufficiently  discrim'ma- 
live.    Sorlin  equivocally  entitled  a  collection  of  essays, 

*  The  Walks  of  Richelieu,'  because  they  were  composed 
at  that  place ;  <  the  Attic  Nights'  of  Aulus  Gellios  were  so 
called,  because  they  were  written  in  At(ica.  Mr  Tooke 
in  his  grammatical  ^Diversions  of  Purley,'  must  have  de- 
ceived many. 

A  rhodomontade  title  page  was  a  great  favourite  in  the 
last  century.  There  was  a  time  when  the  republic  of  let- 
ters was  over-built  with  «  Palaces  of  Pleasure,*  «  Palaces 

eye  with  their  splendid  title,  for  they  were  called  *  Golden 
Epistles;'  and  the  *  Golden  Legend'  of  Voraigne  had 
been  more  appropriately  entitled  leaden. 

They  were  once  so  fond  of  novelty,  that  every  book  re- 
commended itself  by  such  titles  as  *  A  new  Method ;  new 
Elements  of  Geometry ;  the  new  Letter  Writer,  and  tho 
new  Art  of  Cookery.'  The  title  which  Georse  Gascoigne, 
who  had  great  merit  in  his  day,  has  given  to  nis  collection, 
may  be  considered  as  a  specimen  of  the  titles  of  his  times. 
They  were  printed  in  1576.  He  calls  his  *  A  hundred 
sundrie  flowres  bounde  vp  in  one  small  poesie ;  gathered 
partly  by  translation  in  the  fyne  and  outlandish  gardens  of 
Euripides,  Ovid,  Pctrarke,  Ariosto,  and  others;  and  part- 
ly bv  invention  out  ofour  own  fruitefull  orchardes  in  Eng- 
lande;  yielding  sundrie  sweet  savours  of  tragical!,  comi- 
call,  and  roorall  discourses,  both  pleasaunt  and  profitiblo 
to  the  well-smelling  noses  of  learned  readers.' 

To  excite  the  curiosity  of  the  pious,  some  writers  em- 
ployed artifices  of  a  very  ludicrous  nature.  Some  mode 
their  titles  rhyming  echoes ;  as  this  one  of  a  father  who 
has  given  his  works  under  the  title  of  ScaltB  AUe  tnimif 
and  J(»u3  emu  novus  OrbiSf  ^e.  Some  have  distributed 
them  according  to  the  measure  of  time,  as  one  Father 
Nadasi,  the  great<>r  part  of  whose  works  are  years,  monthtf 
loeeJbf,  days,  and  houre.  Some  have  borrowed  their  titles 
from  the  parts  of  the  human  body ;  and  others  have  used 
quaint  expressions,  such  as.  Think  before  you  Isap^iVe 
muat  alt  die — Compel  them  to  enter,  &c.  Some  ofour 
pious  authors  appear  not  to  have  been  aware  that  fhey 
were  buriesquing  religion.  One  Massieu  having  written 
a  moral  explanation  </  the  solemn  anthems  sung  m  Ad- 
vent, which  boizin  with  the  letter  O,  published  this  work 
nnder  the  punntni;  title  of  La  douee  Moelle,  etla  Sauste 
friande  dee  in  Savaureux  de  L^Avent. 

The  Marquis  of  Carraocioli,  a  reli^ous  writer,  not 
long  affo  published  a  book  with  the  ambienous  title  of  La 
Jouiseanoe  de  aoi  meme.    Seduced  by  the  epicurean  litlo 




dM  nl0  of  tbt  wfc  was  eoniinal  wiik  the  GbOT- 
wbO)  howoTOTy  fimd  boUhbi^  bat  v|7  ^Mkw  mftjpi 
OD  rafifwo  and  aorality.    In  dM  axili  editiaii  dM 
cmdj  flonilts  in  h»  n 

hehul  iMiMiied  Uw 
and  perhaps  had 
hie  book  might  never  bare  readied. 

It  it  not  an  iajudidoaa  ubeeif  alien  of  BaiOeC,  Oat  if  a 
idebe  obecore,  it  raieee  a  prejodioe  afinet  theaolbar ;  we 
Ue  apt  to  eoppoM  that  an  ambicaoiie  title  ie  the  effeet  of 
an  intneale  or  eonfiieed  iwnd.  He  ceniurei  the  tbUowing 
ene:  the  Ocean  Afaere-aicro-ooanick  of  one  Sacha.  To 
wrftff^tH  thie  tide,  a  graaunarian  woaU  aend  an  inqiuiet 
to  a  feographer,  and  he  lo  a  natoral  phikioopher  ;  neither 
woola  probnblj  think  oTrecurrini^  to  a  pkyaician,  to  infiimi 
ene  that  this  andngnooe  title  siciufiee  the  eooDeziott  which 
eiiieti  between  the  motion  of  ue  watere,  with  that  of  the 
diood.  He  alio  eeneurea  Leo  Alhitios  for  a  title  which 
apiiean  to  me  not  inelegantlyoonceired.  Thia  writer  baa 
entitled  one  of  kiB  hooka  the  I7r6an  Bee*;  itiian  aocoont 
of  thooe  illustrioas  wntera  who  flomiehed  daring  the  pon- 
tiftenteofone  oftheBaiberinia.  To  connect  the  illoaion, 
wp  maet  recolect  that  the  600  owv  theannaof  ihii  &niilj, 
and  Urban  VHI,  the  Pope  designed. 

The  false  idea  which  a  title  conre^  m  alike  prejudicial 
to  fine  anther  and  the  reader.  Titles  are  generally  too 
prodigal  of  their  proousee,  and  their  authors  are  contenm- 
cd ;  bat  the  works  dT  modest  anthors.  though  thej  preeent 
more  than  tbej  promise,  may  bil  or  attracting  notice  by 
their  extreme  simplicity.  In  either  case,  a  collector  of 
hooka  is  prejudiced ;  he  is  induced  lo  collect  what  merita 
■0  attention,  or  he  passes  over  those  Taloabie  works  whose 
titles  mav  not  happen  to  be  interesting.  It  is  related  of 
Pinelli,  tne  cdebraied  collector  of  books,  that  the  bookael- 
Iots  permitted  him  to  remain  boors,  and  sometimes  days, 
in  their  shope  to  examine  books  before  he  bought  them.  He 
was  deeiroos  of  not  injuring  his  precious  coUectioo  by  use- 
less aninisitions ;  hut  he  cmifeesed  that  he  eomntimee  could 
not  help  suffering  himeelf  to  be  dazzled  by  magnificent 
ddes,  nor  to  be  deceived  by  the  simplicity  ofothers,  which 
the  modesty  of  their  authors  had  given  10  them.  AAer  all, 
it  is  not  improbable,  that  many  authors  are  really  neither 
eo  vain,  nor  so  honest,  as  they  appear ;  and  that  mainifi- 
eont,  or  simple  titles,  have  been  pven  firom  the  difficult  of 
forming  any  others. 

It  is  too  often  with  the  Titles  of  Books,  as  with  those 
ptiBttd  representatiooa  exhibited  by  the  keepers  of  wild 
beasts ;  where,  in  general,  the  picture  itself  is  more  curi- 
ous and  interesting  than  the  inclosed  animal. 


The  Ghveks  coniposed  1  vpogrammatic  works ;  works  in ' 
which  one  letter  or  the  alphabet  is  ommitted.  A  lyfKH 
grammaiist  is  a  letter-dropper.  In  this  manner  Tryphio- 
doros  wrote  his  Odyssey :  he  had  not «  in  his  first  book, 
nor  ^  in  his  second ;  and  so  00  with  the  subsequent  letters 
one  sAer  another.  This  Odyssey  was  an  imitation  of  the 
lypofframmatie  Iliad  of  Nestor.  Amoni;  other  works  of 
this  Kind,  AthensBus  mentions  an  ode  by  Pindar,  in  which 
he  had  purposely  omitted  the  letter  S ;  so  that  this  inept 
ingenoity  appears  to  have  been  one  of  those  literary  faso- 
iona  which  are  sometimes  encouraged  even  by  those  who 
should  first  oppose  such  progresses  mto  the  realms  of  non- 

There  b  in  Latin  a  little  prose  work  of  Fulgentius, 
which  the  author  divides  into  twenty-three  chapters,  ao- 
oording,  to  the  order  of  the  twenty-three  letters  of  the  Latin 
alphabet.  From  A  to  O  are  still  remaining.  The  firit 
diapter  is  without  A ;  the  second  without  B ;  the  third 
vritbout  C  ;  and  so  with  the  rest*  Du  Chat,  in  the  Ducap 
tiana,  says,  there  are  five  novels  in  prose  of  Lopes  de 
Vega ;  the  firat  without  A,  the  second  without  E,  the  third 
without  I,  &e.    Who  will  attempt  to  examine  them? 

The  Orientalists  are  not  without  this  literary  folly.  A 
P««ian  poet  read  to  the  celebrated  Jami  a  gazel  of  his  own 
composition,  which  Jami  did  not  tike ;  but  the  writer  r^ 
died  it  was  notwithstanding  a  very  curious  sonnet,  for  the 
utitr  jUiff'wna  not  to  be  found  in  any  one  of  the  words ! 
Jami  sarcastically  replied,  *  You  can  do  a  better  thing 
yet ;  take  away  aU  Utt  Utttn  fitxn  every  word  you  have 

To  these  works  may  be  added  the  JBeto^a  da  CalvUf  by 
Hngbald  the  Monk.  All  the  words  of  this  silly  work  be- 
gin with  a  C.  It  is  printed  in  Domavius.  Pugna  Psrw 
all  the  words  beginning  with  a  P,  in  the  Nugv 

the  words  begi» 
with  a  C  :  a  petfamanee  of  the  same  khid  la  ibt 
work.  Grnrario  LeCi  pet  seated  a  diaeoane  to  tha 
Academy  of  the  Humorists  at  Rome,  throoghout  whieb 
he  had  poraossiy  oouUed  the  letter  R,  and  he  entitled  tl 
the  exiled  R.  A  friend  having  requestsd  a  copy,  aa  a  K^ 
erarr  cnrMsdy,  nir  so  be  oonsniered  this  die  perlbrmanoe, 
Letti,  to  show  It  was  not  so  difficult  a  matter,  replied  by  a 
oepinMS  answer  of  seven  pages,  in  which  ha  had  obserred 
die  same  severe  ostracism  ag^unst  the  letter  R!  Lord 
North,  one  of  the  finest  gendemen  in  the  conrtof  Jameo  I, 
baa  written  a  set  of  SonMli,each  of  winch  begina  with  a 
oaceesaive  letter  of  die  alphabet.  The  Eari  of  Rivers  m 
the  reif^  of  Edward  IV,  translated  the  Moral  Proverbs  ol 
Christiana  of  Pisa,  a  poem  of  about  two  hundred  lines,  the 
greatest  part  of  whiai  he  oonirived  to  coodude  with  tha 
Mtter  E ;  an  instanw  of  his  lordships  hard  applieatioo, 
and  the  bad  taste  of  an  age  which,  Lord  Orford  observes, 
had  vnttadsms  and  whism  to  straggle  with,  as  well  aa  if» 

It  has  beoi  well  obaervcd  of  theee  miaole  triflers  that 
nmctness  is  the  sublime  of  fods,  whoee  laboan 
y  be  wdl  called,  in  the  laaguage  of  Drydeo, 

*  Pangs  whhoatbinh,  and  fmiilmrlndustiy.* 
And  fiCaitid  aaya, 

Turps  estdiffidks  habere  migas. 
El  snltuB  labor  est  Inqxiaraflk 

Tn  a  MIy  to  swest  o*»r  a  diOcult  trifle. 
And  for  dUy  devices  hiveniioo  to  rifle. 

I  shall  not  dwell  on  wits  who  composed  verses  in  tha 
fiirms  of  hearts,  wings,  dtars, and  tnie  love  knots;  or  aa 
Ben  Jonson  describes  their  gniteeque  Aapes, 

A  pair  of  adswts  sad  a  eomb  In  vsrss.' 

Tom  Nssh,  who  hired  to  posh  the  hidieroas  to  its  ei^ 
treme,  in  hts  amonng  invective  against  the  dassical  Gi^ 
briel  Harvey,  tdb  us  diat  <  he  hacTwrit  verses  in  dl  kiods ; 
in  form  of  a  pair  of  gjoves,  a  pair  of  spedaclee,  and  a  pair 
of  pothooks,  &c.'  They  are  not  less  absurd,  who  expoee 
to  public  ridicde  the  name  of  their  mistress  by  employiQg 
itto  form  their  acrostics.  I  have  seen  some  of  the  lattsr, 
where  both  mdta  and  cress  lesys,  the  name  of  the  oftistrms 
or  the  patron  has  been  eent  dovm  to  posterity  with  etemd 
torture.  The  great  difficulty  where  one  namt  is  made  out 
fmtr  ftmet  in  the  same  acrostic,  must  have  been  to  have 
fiwnd  words  by  which  the  letters  forming  the  name  shoold 
be  forced  to  stand  in  their  particular  plscce.  It  might 
be  incredible  that  so  greatagemus  as  Boccaccio  could 
havelent  himself  to  these  literary  fashions ;  yet  one  of  the 
most  gigantic  of  acrostics  may  be  seen  m  his  works ;  it  is  a 
poem  of  fiHy  cantos ;  of  which  Ouing uend  has  preserved  a 
specimen  in  his  Literary  History  of  Italy,  vol.  iii,  p.  54. 
Putteaham,  in  that  verv  scarce  book,  *  The  Art  of  Poene,' 
p.  76,  givee  severd  oda  specimens  of  poems  in  the  forms 
of  lozenges,  rhomboids,  pillars,  lie  Some  of  tbem  from 
Orienid  poems  communicated  by  a  traveller.  Putteaham 
is  a  very  lively  writer,  and  has  contrived  to  form  a  defence 
for  describing  and  making  such  trifling  devices.  He  has 
done  more :  he  has  erected  two  pillars  himself  to  theh^ 
nour  of  dueen  Elizabeth ;  every  pillar  consists  of  a  base 
of  eight  syllablee,  die  shaft  or  middle,  of  four,  and  the  ca*^ 
pitd  IS  ec^ud  with  the  base.  The  only  diffi»rence  between 
the  two  pillars,  consists  in  this;  in  the  one  ^e  must  r^ad 
upwards,'  and  in  the  other  the  reverse.  Tliese  piUara, 
notwithstanding  this  fortunate  device  and  variation,  may 
be  fixed  as  two  cdwmns  in  the  porch  of  the  vast  temple  d 
literary  fdly. 

It  was  at  thtt  period  when  issris  or  ti«risi  were  torttfrad 
into  such  fantastic  forms,  that  the  trees  in  gardens  were 
twisted  and  sheared  iaio  obelisks  and  giants,  peacocks  or 
flowerwpots.  la  a  copy  of  verses  *  To  a  hair  of  my  mt^ 
tress's  eye4ash,'  the  merit  next  to  the  choice  of  the  eub» 
ject,  most  have  been  the  arrangement  or  the  datartango- 
ment  of  the  whde  poem  into  the  form  of  a  bean.  ^Vtih 
a  pdr  of  wings  maay  a  sonnet  fluttered,  and  a  sa^-wi 
hymn  was  expressed  hy  the  mystical  triangle.  Aera&tte» 
are  formed  from  the  tmtial  letters  of  evenr  verse ;  hut  a 
different  concdt  regdated  cArsnsyrasM^  wniefa  were  uaid 
to  describe  rfaiss  the  montrd  letters  hi  whatever  pan 
of  the  word  thejr  stood  were  distinguished  from  other 
letters  by  betag  wrttlsn  in  capitab.  In  the  fdlowiag  chra- 
nogram  from  Horace, 

->fMam  sidenTSfdes, 



by  a  strange  elevation  of  capitab  the  ckrvnogramtnatiat 
eompeb  even  Horace  to  give  the  year  of  our  Lord  thus. 

—  feiiaM  BiDera  Venice.    MDVI. 

The  Acrostic  and  the  Chronogram  are  both  ingeniously 
described  in  the  mock  Epic  of  the  ScriUeriad.  The  tm- 
Ctttt  UUen  of  the  acrostics  are  thusalladed  to  in  the  literary 

Firm  and  compact,  in  three  fair  columns  wove 
0*er  the  smooth  plain,  the  bold  acrostics  move ; 
High  o^er  the  rest,  (he  Towering  Leaders  rise 
With  limbs  gigantic,  and  superior  size. 

But  the  looser  character  of  the  e^inmog^rom,  and  the  die- 
order  in  which  they  are  found,  are  ingeniously  sung  thus : 

Nu  thus  the  looser  chronograms  prepare, 
Careless  their  troops,  undisciplined  to  war ; 
With  rank  irregular,  confused  they  stand, 
The  chieftains  mingling  with  the  vulgar  band. 

fie  afterwards  adds  others  of  the  illegitimate  races  of  wit : 

To  join  these  squadrons,  o^er  the  champion  came 
A  numerous  race  uf  no  ignoble  name ; 
Riddle,  and  Rebus,  Riddle's  dearest  son. 
And  false  Conundrum  and  insidious  Pun. 
Fustian,  who  scai*ceiy  deigns  to  tread  ihen'ound, 
And  Rondeau,  wheeling  in  repeated  round. 
On  their  fair  standards  by  the  wind  displayed, 
£g^,  altars,  wings,  pipes,  axes  were  pounray'd. 

I  find  in  the  origin  of  ^oti^s-n'm^,  or  *  Rhiming  Ends/ 
m  Goujei's  Bib.  fr.  xvi,  p.  181.  One  Dulot  a  foolish  poet, 
when  sonnets  were  in  demand,  had  a  singular  custom  of 
preparing  the  rhymes  of  these  poems  to  be  filled  up  at  his 
leisure.  Having  been  robbed  of  his  papers,  he  was  re- 
gretting  most  the  loss  of  three  hundred  sonnets :  his  friends 
were  astonished  that  he  had  written  so  many  which  they 
had  never  heard.  '  They  were  blank  sonnets,'  he  replied ; 
and  explained  the  mystery  by  deseribing  his  BoiuU-Timia. 
The  idt^a  appeared  ridiculously  amusini; ;  and  it  soon  be- 
came fashionable  to  collect  the  moat  difficult  rhymes,  and 
fill  up  the  lines. 

Tne  Charade  is  of  such  recent  birth,  that  it  has  not  yet 
opened  its  mystical  conceits ;  nor  can  I  discover  the  origin 
of  this  species  of  logogripbes :  it  was  not  known  in  France 
so  late  as  in  1771,  in  the  last  edition  of  the  great  Diction- 
naire  de  Trevoux,  where  the  term  appears  as  the  name  of 
an  Indian  sect  of  a  military  character,  and  has  no  con- 
nexion with  our  charades. 

Anagrami  were  another  whimsical  invention ;  with  the 
letten  ^  any  name  they  contrived  to  make  out  some  en- 
tire word,  descriptive  of  the  character  of  the  person  who 
bore  the  name.  These  anagrams,  therefore,  were  either 
injiinoua  or  complimentary.  When  in  fashion,  lovers 
made  «ise  of  them  cominually  :  I  have  read  of  one,  whose 
mistress's  name  was  Magdalen,  for  whom  be  composed, 
not  <*nly  an  Epic  under  that  name,  but  as  a  proof  of  his 
passion,  one  day  he  sent  her  three  dozen  of  anagrams  only 
»n  her  lovely  name.  Sciopius  imagined  himself  fortunate 
that  his  adversary  Scaliger  Yt^s  perfectly  SaerUegt  in  all 
the  oblique  cases  of  the  Latin  language;  on  this  principle 
Sir  John  Wiat  was  made  out,  to  his  own  satisfaction, — a 
vcit.  They  were  not  always  correct  when  a  great  compli- 
ment was  required  ;  the  poet  John  Cleveland  was  strained 
hard  to  make  Helicoman  dew.  This  literary  trifle  has,  how- 
ever, in  our  own  times,  been  brought  to  singular  perfec- 
tion ;  and  several,  equally  ingenious  and  caustic,  will 
readily  occur  to  the  reader. 

Verses  of  grotesque  shapes  have  somstimes  been  con- 
trived to  convey  ingenious  thoughts.  Pannard,  a  modern 
French  poet,  has  tortured  his  agreeable  vein  of  poetry  in- 
tf.<  such  forms.  He  has  made  some  of  his  Bacchanalian 
s'^ngs  take  the  figures  of  battUa  and  others  of  glauea. 
These  obiects  are  perfectly  drawn  by  the  various  mea- 
Mires  uf  tne  verses  which  form  the  songs.  He  has  also 
introduced  an  ee^  in  his  verses,  which  he  contrives  so 
as  not  to  iniure  their  sense.  This  was  practised  by  the 
old  French  bards  in  the  age  of  Marot,  and  thb  poetical 
whim  is  ridiculed  by  Butler  in  his  Hudibras,  Part  I,  Canto 
5,  Verse  190.  I  give  an  example  of  these  poetical  echoes. 
The  foUowing  ones  are  ingenious,  lively,  and  satirical. 

Pour  nous  plaire,  un  plumet 


Tout  en  usage : 

Mais  on  trouve  souvent 


Dans  son  language. 

On  y  volt  des  Commis 


Comme  des  Princes, 

ApiS^s  Aire  venus 


De  leurs  Frovincea 

I  must  notice  the  poetical  whim  of  Cretin,  a  great  poet 
in  bis  day :  he  died  in  1525.  He  brought  into  fasoton 
punning  or  equivocal  rhymes,  such  as  the  foUowmg  which 
Marot  addressed  to  him,  and  which,  indulging  the  sama 
rhyminc  folly  as  his  own,  are  superior  for  a  glimpsvol 
tense,  uiough  very  imworthy  of  thev  author : 

L^homme  sotart,  et  non  s^avant 
Comme  un  Rotisseur,  qui  lave  oye, 
La  fame  d*autrui,  nonce  avant 
Q,u'il  la  cognoisse,  ou  quMl  la  voye,  Ice. 

In  the  following  nonsensical  lines  uf  Du  Bartaa,  this 
poet  imagined  that  he  imitated  the  harmonious  notat  of 
the  lark; 

La  gentille  aloflette,  avec  son  tlrellre, 
Tireiire  &  lire,  et  tireliran  tire, 
Vers  la  vouie  Ju  ciel,  puis  son  vol  vers  ce  lieu, 
Vlre  et  desire  dire  adieu  Dieu,  adieu  Dieu. 

The  French  have  an  ingenious  kind  of  Nonsense 
Verses  called  Amfhigtnaie,  This  word  is  composed  of 
a  Greek  adverb  signifying  abtrnt^  and  of  a  substantive  sig« 
nifying  a  arde.  The  following  is  a  specimen :  it  is  elegant 
in  the  selection  of  words,  snd  what  the  French  called  richly 
rhymed— in  fact  it  is  fine  poetry,  but  it  has  no  meaning 
whatever !  Pope's  Stanzas,  said  to  be  written  by  npermm 
ofauatity,  to  ridicule  the  tuneful  nonsense  of  certain  Barda, 
and  which  Gilbert  Wakefield  mistook  for  a  serious  com- 
position, and  wrote  two  pages  of  Commentary  to  prove 
this  song  was  disjointed,  obscure,  and  abturd,  is  an  excel- 
lent specimen  of  these  AmphigmmeM, 


Q,uiM  est  heureux  de  se  defendre 
Q,uand  le  cceur  ne  s'est  pas  rendu ! 
Mais  qu*il  est  facheux  de  se  rendre 
Quana  le  bonheur  est  suspendu  ? 
Par  un  discours  sans  suite  ei  tendrs, 
Egarsz  un  coeur  eperdu ; 
Souvent  par  un  mal-emendu 
L*amant  adroit  se  fait,  entendre. 


How  happy  to  defend  our  heait 
When  love  has  never  thrown  a  dart  t 
But  ah !  unhappy  when  it  bends, 
It' pleasure  her  soft  bliss  suspends! 
Sweet  in  a  wild  disordered  strain, 
A  lost  and  wandering  heart  to  gain  ! 
Oft  in  mietsken  language  wooed 
The  skilful  lovers  understood. 

These  verses  have  such  a  resemblance  to  neanmg.  that 
Fontenelle  having  listened  to  the  son^  imagined  he  nad  a 

repUed  *  They  are  so  much  like  the  fine  verses  I  have 
heard  here,  that  it  is  not  surprising  I  should  be  for  once 
mistaken ! 

In  the  *  Scribleriad'  we  find  a  good  account  of  <Ac  Cento. 
A  cento  primarily  bignifies  a  cloak  made  of  patches.  In 
poetry  it  denotes  a  work  wholly  composed  of  verses,  or 
passages  promiscuously  taken  from  other  authors,  only 
disposed  in  a  new  f^m  or  order,  so  as  to  compose  a  new 
work  and  a  new  meaning.  Ausonius  has  laid  down  the 
rules  to  be  observed  in  composing  Ceniot,  The  pieces 
may  be  taken  either  from  the  same  poet,  or  from  several ; 
and  the  verses  may  be  either  taken  entire  or  divided  into 
two :  one  hair  to  be  connected  with  another  half  taken  else- 
where ;  but  two  verses  are  never  to  be  taken  together. 
Agreeable  to  these  rules  he  has  made  a  pleasant  nuptial 
Cento  from  Virgil. 

The  Empress  Eudoxia  wrote  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ  in 
centos  taken  from  Homer ;  Proba  Falcnnia  from  Vuvil. 
Among  these  grave  triflers  may  be  mentioned  Alexanoer 
Ross,  who  published  *  Virf^lius  Evangelizans,  sive  historia 
Domini  et  Salvatoris  nostri  Jesu  Chnsti  Virgilianis  verbis 
et  versibus  descripta.'  It  was  republished  in  1769. 
A  more  difficult  whim  is  that  (^  *  Reciprocal  Veroea^  which 
(Hve  the  same  words  whether  read  backwards  or  forwards. 
The  following  lines  by  Sidoneus  Apollmaris  were  once 
infinitely  admired : 

<  Signa  te  signs  teniere  me  tangis  et  angis.* 
<  Roma  tibi  subito  motibus  ibit  amor.* 

The  reader  has  only  to  lake  the  pains  of  reading  the 



lines  backwanli,  and  he  will  find  hinuelT  jiut  where  he 
WM  after  ali  his  (aii^ue. 

Ci^Mtaine  Lasnhnse,  a  French  aelf^aufht  poet,  whose 
work  preceded  Matberbe's,  boasts  of  his  inventioiis ;  among 
other  singularities,  ime  has  at  least  the  merit  ofUs  difieulU 
ooincue,  and  might  by  ingenious  hands  be  tttmed  to  some  ac- 
count. He  asserts  that  this  noTelly  is  entirely  his  own ; 
it  consists  in  the  last  word  of  every  verse  fumiing  the  fifst 
word  of  the  following  verse : 

Fallott-il  que  le  del  me  rendit  amoureox, 
AmuureuXf  jouissant  d*ane  beaut6  craintive, 
Crainiive  h  recevoir  la  douceur  excessive, 
Excessive  au  plaisir  qui  rend  Pamant  heureuz  ? 
Heureux  «i  uous  avions  quelques  paisibles  lieux 
Lieux  ou  plus  suremem  Tami  fidelie  arrive, 
Arrive  sans  soupcoo  de  queique  ami  attentive, 
Attentive  h  vouloir  nous  surprendre  tons  deux. — 

Francis  Colonna,  an  Italian  Monk,  is  the  author  <^  a 
angular  book  entitled  *  The  Dream  cf  PoUphilus,'  in  which 
be  relates  bis  amours  with  a  lady  of  ihe  name  of  Poiia.  It 
was  considered  improper  to  prefix  his  name  to  the  work ; 
but  being  desirous  of  marking  it  by  come  peculiarity,  that 
he  might  claim  it  at  any  distant  day,  he  contrived  that  the 
initial  letters  of  every  chapter  should  be  formed  of  those 
of  his  name  and  of  the  subjects  he  treats.  This  odd  in> 
vention  was  not  discovered  till  many  years  afterwards: 
when  the  wits  employed  themselves  in  decyphering  it,  un- 
fertunate'y  it  became  a  source  of  literary  altercation,  be- 
ing susceptible  of  various  readings.  The  most  correct 
appears  thus :  Poliam  Frater  Franciscos  Colurona  pera- 
mavit.  Brother  Francis  Colonna  passi<»ateiv  loved  Po- 
Ka.'  This  gallant  monk,  like  another  Petrarch,  made  the 
name  of  his  mbtresa  the  subject  of  his  amalorial  medita- 
tion ;  and  as  the  first  called  his  Laura,  his  Laurel,  this 
called  his  Polia,  his  Polita. 

A  few  vears  afterwards  Maroellos  Palingenius  Stellatoa 
employed  a  similar  artifice  in  his  Zodiacus  Vitae,  The 
Zodiac  of  Life ;'  the  initial  letters  of  the  first  twenty- 
nine  verses  of  the  first  books  of  this  poem  forming  his 
name,  which  curious  particular  is  not  noticed  by  Warton 
in  his  account  of  this  work.  The  performance  is  divided 
into  twelve  boc^,  but  has  no  reference  to  astronomy,  which 
we  mieht  naturally  expect.  He  distinguished  his  twelve 
books  By  the  twelve  names  of  the  celestial  signs,  and  pro- 
bably extended  or  confined  them  purposely  to  that  numW, 
to  humour  his  fancy.  Warton  however  observes,  '  this 
strange  pedantic  tide  is  not  totally  without  a  oemmf ,  as  the 
author  was  bom  at  SteUada  or  SteUala^  a  province  of  Fer- 
rara,  and  from  whence  be  called  himsell  Marcellus  Pa- 
lingenius Stellatus.'  The  work  itself  is  a  curious  satire 
on  the  Pope  and  the  Church  of  Rome.  It  occasioned 
Bayle  to  commit  a  remarkable  HUrary  btuTuUtf  .vhich  I 
shall  record  in  its  place.  Of  Italian  conceit  in  tho^sc  times, 
of  which  Petrarch  was  the  father,  with  his  perpetual  play 
on  words  and  on  hu  Ijmrd^  or  his  mistress  Ijxura^  he  has 
himself  afibrded  a  remarkable  example.  Our  poet  lost  his 
mother,  who  died  in  her  thirty-eightti  year:  he  has  com- 
memorated her  death  by  a  sonnet  composed  of  thirty- 
eight  lines.  He  seems  to  have  conceived  that  the  exact. 
ness  of  the  number  was  equally  natural  and  tender. 

Are  we  not  to  class  among  literary  foUUi  the  strange 
researches,  which  writers,  even  at  the  present  day,  have 
made  in  Antediluman  timos  7  Forgeries  of  the  grossest 
nature  have  been  alluded  to,  or  quoted  as  auihcritres.  A 
book  of  Enoch  once  attracted  considerable  attention  ;  this 
curious  forgery  has  been  recently  translated  :  the  Sabeans 
pretend  they  possess  a  work  wntten  by  Adam  !  and  this 
work  has  been  recently  appealed  to  in  favour  of  a  visionary 
theory !  Astie  gravely  onservew,  that  '  with  respect  to 
Writingt  attributed  to  the  AnitdiiuvianSf  it  seems  not  only 
decent  but  rational  to  say  that  we  know  nothing  cu>ncem- 
ing  them.*  Without  alluding  to  living  writers,  Dr  Par- 
sons, in  his  erudite  *  Remains  of  Japhet,'  tracing  the 
origin  of  the  alphabetical  character,  supposes  that  UtterM 
were  known  to  Adam  I  Some  too  have  noticed  astronomU 
eal  libraries  in  the  Ark  of  Noah !  Such  hisiiirical  memo- 
rials are  the  dolirtums  of  learning,  or  are  founded  on  for- 

Hugh  Broughton,  a  %rriler  of  controversy  in  the  reign  of 
James  the  First,  shows  ii«  in  a  tedious  discussion  on 
Scripture  chronology,  that  Rahab  was  a  harlot  at  ten  years 
of  age;  and  enters  into  many  grave  discussions  concern* 

£g  Die  eolmir  of  Aaron's  JS/ihod^  tlie  language  which  Eve 
St  spoke,  and  other  clasrcal  cnidition.     The  writi*r  is 
ridiculed  in  Ben  Jon«on*s  Comedie«  : — he  is  not  without 

rivals  even  in  the  present  day.  Cofawufias,  after 
ofhis  school,  discovers  tliat  whca  male  duhlreiiare 
thev  cry  out  with  an  A,  being  the  first  vowel  of  the  wofd 
Aaam^  while  the  female  imants  prefer  tlie  letter  £,  m 
allusion  to  Evt ;  and  we  may  add  that,  by  the  pinch  of  a 
negligeM  nurse,  they  may  probably  learn  aO  their  vow<^ 
Ofthe  pedantic  triflings  of  commentators,  a  comnnmrnhf 
aowog  the  Portuguese  on  the  works  ofCamoeas  is  noC  Aa 
least.  Some  of  these  pralbuod  critics  who  aAeeted  great 
delicacy  in  the  laws  of  Epic  poetrr,  pretended  to  be  rimjkt 
fol  whether  the  poet  had  nxed  on  the  right  tune  fiir  a  hmg^w 
dream;  whether,  said  they,  a  king  a^ouM  have  a  priyi 
tious  dream  on  kuJhM  going  to  freoor  at  the  dmmm  ef  tkm 
foUemxng  wunUng/  No  one  seemed  to  be  quite  eenaai ; 
they  puautled  each  other  till  Ihe  oontroveisy  doeed  m  lUe 
feUcitous  manner,  and  satisfied  both  the  night  and  the 

dream  to  tahe 

dawn  critics.    Barreto  discovered  that  an 
the  words  alluded  to  in  the  eootroversy  wouhl  ai 
purpose,  and  by  making  king  Maaoel's 
place  at  the  diiwn  would  restore  Camoeos  to 
opinion,  and  preserve  the  dignity  ofthe  poet. 

Chevreau  begins  his  History  of  the  Worid 
words :  *  Several  learned  men  have  exanuned  in 
son  Ghid  created  the  worki,  thou|^  there  oould  hardly  be 
any  season  then,  since  there  was  no  sun,  no  moon,  nor 
stare.  But  as  the  worfcl  must  have  been  created  in  omm  of 
the  four  seasons,  this  question  has  exercised  the  taleals  ef 
the  most  eunous,  and  opinioas  are  vaiioiM.  Some  say  it 
was  in  the  month  of  iVZsen,  that  is,  in  the  spring :  otlMn 
maintain  that  it  was  in  the  month  of  TWi,  whadi  higinB 
Ihe  civd  year  of  the  Jews,  and  that  it  was  on  the  suckday 
of  this  month,  which  answere  to  our  September,  that  .^dom 
and  Eve  were  created,  and  that  it  was  on  a  /Vscl^,  a  Bt- 
tle  aAer  four  o'clock  in  the  aflernoon  V  This  ' 
to  the  Rabbinical  notion  of  the  ere  of  lbs  Sahhath. 
The  Irish  antiquariee  mention  petbtie  Ubrmriee  that 
before  the  flood;  and  Paid  Christian  Ilsker,  with  , 
founder  erudition,  has  given  an  exact  catalogue  of.^iisan'a. 
Messieun  CFlahertv,  O'Connor,  and  CHalloraa,  havn 
most  gravely  recordec  as  authentic  nanratioDs  die  iiifcUl 
legendary  trediiioDS ;  and  more  recently,  to  make  '"'idiMrw 
doubly  confounded,  olhere  have  bu^t  up  what  they  cnl 
theoretical  histories  on  these  nareefy  talea.  By  wfakk 
species  of  black  art  they  contrive  to  prove  that  an  Iriib- 
man  is  an  Indian,  and  a  Peruvian  may  be  a  Webhmaa, 
from  certain  emigrations  whidi  took  place  many  n  iiiHiiei 
before  Christ,  and  some  about  two  eenluries  after  the 
flood!  Keating, in  his < History  ofIreUad,'8tana  a &voaro 
ite  hero  in  the  ciant  Partholaaus,  who  was  rtnw^indud 
from  Japhet,  and  landed  on  the  coast  of  Mimster,  14tk 
May,  in  the  year  of  the  worid  1978.  This  giant  eoceeeded 
in  his  enterprise,  but  a  domestic  misfortnoe  attoided  hiM 
among  his  Irish  friends :— 4iis  wife  ezpeeed  him  to  their 
laughter  bv  her  loose  behaviour,  and  provoked  him  to  soch 
a  degree  that  he  killed  two  favourite  greyhounds ;  and  Ais 
the  learned  historian  assures  us  was  thejirtf  «^»ttnTt  ef 
female  infidelity  ever  known  in  Ireland ! 

The  learned,  not  contented  with  Homer's  poetical  pre- 
eminence, make  him  the  moot  authentic  historian  and  moat 
accurate  geographer  of  antiquity,  besides  endowing  hhm 
with  all  the  arts  and  sciences  to  be  foimd  in  our  Encyck^ 
psdia.  Even  m  surgery  a  treatise  has  been  written  to 
show  by  the  variety  of  the  wmnde  of  his  heroes,  that  be 
was  a  most  scientific  anatomist ;  and  a  miUlary  sebolarhan 
lately  uAd  us  that  from  him  is  derived  all  the  edenee  ci 
the  modern  adjutant  and  quarter-mastcr-genei al ;  all  the 
knowledge  of  taetiea  which  we  now  posseai ;  and  that 
Xcnophon,  Epaminondas,  PhUip,  and  Alexander,  owed 
all  their  warlike  reputation  to  Homer ! 

To  return  to  pfeasanter  foDiea.     Dee  Fontainee.  the 
journalist,  who  had  wit  and  malke,  inserted  the 
of  a  letter  which  the  poet  Rousseau  wroto  to  the 
Radne  whilst  he  was  at  the  Hague.    These 
words :  *  I  enjoy  the  converaatiott  within  theee  few  days 
of  my  associates  m  Parnassus.    Mr  Piron  is  an  exoeHsnt 
antidote  against  melanchdy;  ftirf*    &c.    DesFooCaiafla 
maUciously  stopped  at  this  but.    In  the  letter  of  Ronsaean 
it  was,  *  but  unfortunately  he  departs  soon.'    Kron  was 
rery  sensibly  afllected  at  this  equivocal  bmt,  and  reedved 
to  revenge  fiimself  by  composing  one  hunted  epigrams 
against  ilie  malignant  critic.    He  had  written  siity  hsfim 
Des  Fontaines  died :  but  of  those  only  two  attncted  any 
001  ice. 

Towards  the  conclusion  of  the  fifteenth  century,  An- 
tonio Comczano  wrote  a  hundred  diflerent  sooneu  on 



nsMeet;  'the  ejM  of  hit  mifltres!'  to  which  ponibly 
aiiut|iear»  may  allude,  when  Jaquea  deicribes  a  lover 
with  his 

*  Woful  ballad, 
Made  to  his  miatreaa*  eyelvow.' 

Not  raTerior  to  this  iogenioas  trifler  is  Nicholas  Franco^ 
w«U  known  in  Italian  literatuTB,  who  employed  himself  in 
writing  two  hundred  and  eighteen  satiric  sonnets,  chiefly 
on  the  famous  Peter  Arelin.  This  iMnpoonerhad  the 
honour  of  being  hanged  at  Rome  for  his  de&matory  pobli* 
cations.  In  the  same  class  are  to  be  placed  two  other 
writers.  Brebeuf,  who  wrote  one  htmdred  and  fifty  epi- 
grams against  a  painted  lady.  Another  wit,  desirous  of 
•snulating  him,  and  for  a  Munrj  bravado,  eoniinued  the 
■nme  subject,  and  pointed  attus  unfortunate  fair  three 
hundred  more,  without  once  repeating  the  thoughts  of 
Brebeuf!  There  is  a  collection  of  poems  called  *  /a  puok 
cEss  grondjonn  de  Pmtmrt.*  The  flxa  of  the  carnival  of 
Poitiers.  These  poems  were  all  written  by  the  learned 
Pasquier  upon  a  rLEA  which  he  found  one  morning  in  the 
bosom  of  the  fiunous  Catherine  des  Roches ! 

Not  long  ago,  a  Mr  and  Mrs  BUderdik,  in  Flanders 

Kiblished  poems  under  the  singular  title  df  *  White  and 
ed.' — His  own  poems  were  caUed  white,  fiwn  the  colour 
of  bis  hair,  and  those  of  his  lady  red,  in  allusion  lo  the  od- 
our of  the  roee.    The  idea  must  be  Flemish ! 

Gildon,  in  his  *  Laws  of  Poetry,'  commenUng  on  this 
line  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  *  Essay  on  Poetry,* 

Nature's  chief  master-piece  Is  writing  well  :* 
revr  profoundly  informs  bis  readers  '  That  what  is  here 
saio  has  not  the  least  regard  to  the  penmoiuAtp,  that  is,  to 
tho  fairness  or  badness  of  the  hand-writing,  &c,  and  pro- 
coeda  throughout  a  whole  page,  with  a  panegyric  on  ajSne 
hemd-wriiing !  Dull  men  seem  lo  haTe  at  times  great 
claims  to  originality ! 

Littleton,  the  author  of  the  Latin  and  English  Diction- 
ary, seems  to  have  indulged  his  favourite  propensi^  to 
punning  so  far  as  even  to  introduce  a  pun  in  uie  grave  and 
elaborate  work  of  a  Lexicon.  A  story  has  been  raised 
to  account  for  it,  and  it  has  been  ascribed  to  the  impatient 
interjection  of  the  lexicographer  to  his  scribe,  who,  taking 
no  ooence  at  the  peevislmess  of  his  master,  put  it  down  in 
the  Dictionary.  The  article  alluded  to  is,  *  Cokcurro, 
to  run  with  oioers ;  to  run  together ;  to  come  together ;  to 
&I1  foul  on  one  another ;  to  GoH«i(r,  to  Coirdo^.^ 

Mr  Todd,  in  his  Dictionary,  has  li^HMired  to  show  *  the 
inaccuracy  of  this  pretended  narrative.'  Yet  a  similar 
blunder  appears  to  have  happened  to  Ash.  Johnson,  while 
composing  his  Dictionary,  sent  a  note  to  the  Grentleman*B 
Magazine  lo  inouire  the  etymology  of  the  word  enrmud- 
geon.  Having  obtained  theinformation,  he  records  in  his 
work  the  obligation  to  an  anonymous  letter-writer.  '  Cur- 
mudgeon, a  vidous  way  of  pronouncing  emur  nuehani.  An 
unknown  correspondent.'  Ash  copied  the  word  into  his 
Dictionary  in  this  manner :  *  Curmudgeon :  from  the 
French  «mr,  unknown ;  and  nuehant,  a  correspondent.' 
This  singular  nefligence  ought  lo  be  placed  in  the  class  of 
our  UUrmy  bbtnder$ ;  but  these  form  a  pair  of  lexicographi- 
cal anecdotes. 

Two  singular  literary  follies  have  been  practised  on 
Milton.  There  is  a  proH  vermon  of  his  *  Paradise  Lost,' 
which  was  innocently  trandattd  from  the  French  version  of 
his  Epic !  One  Green  published  a  specimen  of  a  neio  ver- 
sion  of  the  '  Paradise  Lost'  into  hiaiik  vent  I  Tot  this 
purpose  he  has  utteriy  ruined  the  hamumy  of  Milton's 
cadence,  by  what  he  conceived  to  be  *  bringing  that  ama- 
ring  worii  somewhat  nearer  (he  tmmmk  tf  fvftdMm^ 

A  French  author,  when  bis  book  had  Men  received  by 
the  French  Academy,  had  the  portrait  of  Cardinal  Riche- 
lieu engraved  on  his  title  page,  encircled  by  a  crown  of 
fartM  reiys.  in  each  of  which  was  written  the  name  «>f  the 
celebrated /brfy  oeadeimeians. 

The  self>exultations  of  authors,  frequently  employ  «h1  br 
injudicious  writers,  place  them  in  ridiculous  attitudes.  A 
writer  of  a  bad  dictionary,  which  be  intended  for  a  Oyclo- 
MBdia,  formed  such  an  opmion  of  its  extensive  sale,  thai 
he  put  on  the  title-page  the  words  ^JintL  tdttion^  a  hint  to 
the  gentle  reader  tnut  it  would  not  be  the  last.  Desmarest 
was  so  delighted  with  his  *  Clovis,'  an  Epic  Poem,  that 
ho  solemnly  condudes  his  preface  with  a  tnanksgiring  to 
Ood,  to  whom  he  attributes  all  bisgloi/!  This  is  like 
that  cononted  member  of  a  Frendi  Paritament,  who  was 
overheard,  after  his  tedious  harangue,  muttering  moit  «!•• 
rwtly  to  himself,  <  Nmn  noMs  ~     '     ' 


Several  works  have  been  produced  from  some  odd  coin- 
cklence  with  the  name  ^Ouir  authon.  Thus  De  Saua- 
say  has  written  a  folio  volume,  consisting  of  panegyrici 
of^  persons  of  eminence,  whose  christian  names  were 
Andrmo ;  because  ^ndreio  was  his  own  name.  Two  Je^ 
uits  made  a  similar  collection  of  illustrious  men  whose 
christian  names  were  Theophilu»  and  PhiUvy  being  their 
own.  Anthotw  Sanderut  has  also  composed  a  treatise  of 
illustrious  Anuioniet !  And  we  have  one  JBiceAonan,  who 
has  written  the  lives  of  t^ose  persons  who  were  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  have  been  his  namesakes. 

Several  forgotten  writers  have  frequently  been  intruded 
on  the  public  eye,  merely  through  such  trifling  coinciden- 
ces as  Being  members  of'^some  particular  society,  or  na- 
tives of  some  particular  country.  Cordeliers  have  stood 
forward  to  revive  the  writings  of  Duns  Scotus,  because  he 
had  been  a  Cordelier ;  and  a  Jesuit  compiled  a  folio  on  the 
antiquities  of  a  country,  merely  from  the  circumstance 
that  the  founder  of  his  order,  Ignati'is  Loyola,  had  been 
bom  there.  Several  of  the  classics  are  violently  extolled 
above  others,  merely  from  the  accidental  circumstance  o. 
their  editors  having  collected  a  vast  number  of  notes, 
which  thev  resolved  to  discharge  on  the  public.  County 
histories  nave  been  frequently  compiled,  and  provincial 
writers  have  received  a  temporary  existence,  from  the 
acckient  of  some  obscure  individual  being  an  inhabitant  uf 
some  obscure  town. 

On  such  literary  follies  Malebranche  has  made  this  re- 
fined observation.  The  eritiet,  standing  in  s<mie  way  con- 
nected with  the  authorf  thMr  telf-lovt  inspires  them,  and 
abundantly  furnishes  eulogiums  which  the  author  never 
merited,  tnat  they  may  thus  obliquely  reflect  some  praise 
on  themselves.  This  is  made  so  adroitly,  so  delicately, 
and  so  concealed,  that  it  is  not  perceived. 

The  following  are  strange  inventions,  originating  in  the 
wilflil  bad  taste  of  the  authors.  Otto  Venius,  the  master 
of  Rubens,  is  the  designer  of  Le  TAeotre  moral  dela  Vh 
Hummne.  In  this  emblematical  history  of  human  life,  bo 
has  taken  his  subjects  from  Horace ;  but  certainly  his  con- 
ceptions are  not  Horatian.  He  takes  every  image  in  a 
Utend  sense.  If  Horace  says,  <  Miace  atuUitiam  consiliis 
brevem,'  behold  Venius  takes  brevii  personally,  and  re- 

{»resents  foUy  as  a2tttfe  sftort  child!  of  not  above  three  or 
bur  years  old !  In  the  emblem  which  answers  Horace'* 
'  Ran  anUeedentem  aedeatum  deteruit  pede  poena  claudo,' 
we  find  Punishment  with  a  wooden  leg.^Aad  for  *  piilvis 
et  umbra  sumus,'  we  have  a  daric  burying  vault,  witn  duet 
sprinkled  about  the  fkior,  and  a  ehaamo  walking  upright 
between  two  ranges  of  urns.  For  *  Ftrftis  c«f  vUiumfugere 
et  ae^tientia  prima  ituhitia  eanoMe,'  most  flatly  he  gives 
seven  or  eight  Vices  pursuing  Virtue,  and  Folly  just  at 
the  heels  of  Wisdom.  I  saw  m  an  English  Bible  printed 
in  Holland,  an  instance  of  the  same  taste :  the  artist,  to 
illustrate  <  Thou  seest  the  mote  in  thy  neighbour's  eye,  but 
not  the  6sam  m  thine  own,'  has  actually  placed  an  im- 
mense beam  which  projects  from  the  eye  of  the  caviller  to 
the  ground ! 

As  a  contrast  to  the  too  obvious  taste  of  Venius,  may 
be  placed  Cesare  di  Ripa,  who  is  the  author  of  an  Italian 
work,  translated  into  most  Eun^an  languages,  the  /eoRo- 
hgiai  the  favourite  book  of  the  age,  and  the  fertile  parent 
of  the  most  absurd  offspring  whidi  Taste  has  known.  Ripa 
is  as  darkly  subtile  as  venius  is  obrious ;  and  as  far- 
fetched in  his  conceits  as  the  other  is  literal.  Riparepro- 
sents  Beauty  by  a  naked  lady,  with  her  head  in  a  cloud ; 
because  the  true  idea  of  beauty  is  hard  to  be  conceived! 
Flattery,  by  a  lady  with  a  flute  in  her  hand,  and  a  stag  at 
her  feet,  because  stagu  are  siJd  to  love  music  so  much, 
that  they  suffer  themselves  to  be  taken,  if  you  play  to 
them  on  a  flute.  Fraud,  with  two  hearts  in  one  band,  and 
a  mask  in  the  other :— -his  collection  is  loo  numerous  to 
point  out  mwe  instances.  Ripa  also  describes  how  the 
allegorical  figures  are  to  be  coloured ;  Hope  is  to  have  a 
sky^lue  robe,  because  she  always  looks  towards  heaven, 
Enough  of  these  C^rieeioal 


In  the  artwle  Milton,  in  the  preceding  volume,  I  had 
occaiinn  to  give  some  strictures  on  the  asperity  of  fitemry 
eontroversy :  the  spedmens  I  brought  forward  were  draws 
from  his  own  and  Salmasius's  writings.  If  to  some  the 
subject  has  appeared  exceptkxiable,  to  ma,  I  ooofess,  it 
aaems  useful,  and  I  shall  therefore  add  some  other  parti- 
cubin ;  fbc  this  topic  has  many  branches.  Of  the  foltofw> 
ing  tpodmens,  the  groswsss  and  nafigaity  are  aitrama; 



yet  they  were  employed  by  the  first  Mfaolu*  in  Europe. 

MuHd  Luther  was  not  destitute  d  genius,  of  leamiof , 
or  oTeioqueoce ;  but  his  violence  disfigured  his  works  wiu 
invcctiTes  sndsinfularities  of  abuse.  The  great  reionner 
of  superstition  had  himself  all  the  Tulgar  ones  of  his  day ; 
he  believed  that  flies  were  devils ;  and  that  he  had  had  a 
bufletiag  with  Satan  when  his  left  ear  felt  the  prodicioas 
beating.  Hear  him  express  himself  on  the  CaUiohc 
divines :  *  The  papists  are  all  asses,  and  will  always  re* 
main  asses.  Put  them  in  whatever  sauce  you  choose 
boiled,  roasted,  baked,  fried,  skinned,  beat,  hashed,  they 
are  always  the  same  asses.' 

Gentle  and  moderate,  compared  with  a  salute  ofhis  Holi- 
ness.—' The  Pope  was  born  out  of  the  Devil*s  posteriors. 
He  is  full  of  devils,  lies,  blasphemies,  and  idolatries ;  he  is 
anti-Christ;  the  robber  of  churches;  the  ravisher  of  vir- 

fins;  the  greatest  of  pimps ;  the  governor  of  Sodom,  &c. 
rthe  Tuiks  lay  hold  of  us,  then  we  shall  be  in  the  hands 
of  the  Devil ;  but  if  we  remain  with  the  Pope,  we  shall  be 
in  hell.— What  a  pleasing  sight  wouM  it  be  to  see  the 
Pope  and  the  Gardmals  hannng  on  one  gallows,  in  exact 
oraer,  like  the  seals  which  dangle  from  the  bulb  of  the 
Pope !  What  an  excellent  council  would  they  hold  under 
the  gallows !' 

Sometimes  desirous  of  catching  the  attention  of  the 
vukar,  Luther  attempu  to  enliven  his  style  by  the  grossest 
buffooneries :  *  Take  care,  my  little  Popa !  my  Utile  ass ! 
go  on  slowly :  the  times  are  slippery :  this  year  is  duH 
gerous:  if  thou  tallest,  they  will  exclaim.  See!  bow 
our  little  Pope  is  spoilt.'  It  was  forttmate  for  the  cause 
of  the  Reformati<Mi  that  the  violence  of  Luther  was  soft- 
ened in  a  considerable  degree  at  times  by  the  meek 
Melancthon :  he  often  poured  honey  on  the  sting  inflicted 
by  the  angry  bee.  Luther  was  no  respecter  of  kings ;  he 
was  so  fortunate,  indeed,  as  to  find  among  his  antafomsts 
a  crowned  head;  a  great  good  fortune  for  an  cnscure 
controversialist,  and  the  very  prntiehtm  sotiens  of  contro- 
versy. Our  Henry  VUI  wrote  his  book  against  the  new 
docmne :  then  warm  from  scholastic  studies,  Henry  pre* 
scnted  Leo  X  with  a  woric  highly  creditable  to  his  abili- 
lias,  and  no  inferior  performance  accordini^  to  the  genius  of 
the  age.  Collier,  in  his  Ecclesiastical  History,  has  ana- 
lysed the  book,  and  does  not  ill  describe  its  spirit :  *  Henry 
■•ems  superior  to  his  adversary  in  the  vigour  and  propriety 
ofhis  style,  in  the  force  ofhis  reasoning,  and  the  learning 
of  his  citations.  It  is  true  he  leans  too  mmeh  upon  his 
character,  argues  in  his  gmttt'TobeM^  and  writes  as  it 
were  with  his  oeeptreJ    But  Luther  in  reply  abandons  bis 

Sin  to  all  kinds  of  railing  and  abuse.  He  addresses 
enry  VUI  in  the  following  style :  *  It  is  hard  to  say  if 
folly  can  be  more  foolish,  or  stupidity  more  stupid,  than  is 
the'  head  of  Henry.  He  has  not  attacked  me  with  the 
heart  of  a  king,  but  with  the  impudence  of  a  knave.  This 
rotten  worm  of  the  earth  having  blasphemed  the  majesty 
of  roy  king,  I  have  a  just  right  to  bespatter  bis  Englisn 
majesty  with  his  own  dirt  and  ordure.  This  Henry  has 
lied.'  Some  of  his  original  expressicms  to  our  Henry  Vll  I 
are  these :  *  Stulta,  ridicula,  et  verissime  Henriaanif  et 
TJiomiatiea  sunt  hsec— Regem  Anglis  Henricum  istum 
plane  mentiri,  &c.— Hoc  sgit  inquietus  Satan,  ut  nos  a 
Scripturis  avocet  per  sccfeiafos  Menrieos,  &c.' — He  vras 
repaid  with  capital  and  interest  by  an  anonymous  reply, 
said  to  have  been  written  by  Sir  Thomas  More,  who 
concludes  his  arguments  by  leaving  Luther  in  language 
not  necessary  to  translate ;  *  com  suis  furtis  et  furoribus. 
earn  suis  merdis  et  stercoribus  cacantem  cacatomque.' 
Soeh  were  the  vigorous  elegancies  of  a  controversy  on 
the  Seven  Sacraments !  Long  after,  the  court  of  Rome 
had  not  lost  the  taste  of  these  *  bitter  herbs ;'  for  in  the 
bull  of  the  canonisation  of  Ignatius  LoyoU  in  August, 
16S3,  Luther  is  called  monttrum  Icterriimnn,  et  detatabili§ 

Calvin  was  less  tolerable,  for  he  had  no  Melancthon ! 
His  adversaries  are  never  others  than  knaves,  lunatics, 
dmnkaids,  and  assassins !  Sometimes  they  are  charac- 
terbed  by  the  familiar  appellatives  of  bolls,  asses,  cats 
and  hogs!  By  him  Catholic  and  Lutheran  are  alike 
hated.  Yet,  after  having  given  vent  to  this  virulent 
humour,  he  frequently  boasts  of  his  mildness.  When  he 
reads  over  his  writings,  be  tells  us,  that  he  is  astomsbed 
at  his  forbearance;  but  this,  he  adds,  is  the  doty  of  every 
Christian !  at  the  same  time,  he  generally  finishes  a  penod 
with— <  Do  you  hear,  you  dog?  Do  you  hear,  madman r 

Beta  the  dwdple  of  Cshrin,  sometimes  unitates  the 
luniriaat  aboso  of  his  master.    When  he  wntee  againM 


Tilleman,  a  Lutheran  miniater,  be 
following  lilies  of  hooour :  * Polypbenna ;  an  ape;  a  jyani 
ass  who  is  distinginshed  from  other  aaaes  by  nfiwig  n 
hat;  an  ass  on  twofieet;  a  BMiiater  eomponed  of  part  oft 
anapeand  wiU  ass;  aviUain  who  merits haapn| on  tlm 
first  tree  we  find.'  And  Beca  was,  nodoubt  dnmi—  oi 
the  office  of  execotioaer ! 

Tho  Catholic  partis  by  no  means  infeiMr  in  timl 
ties  of  their  style.    The  Jesuit  Raynaud  caUa  Ei 
*lhe  Batavian  bufibon,'  and  accoaea  him  of 
the  egg  which  Lather  hatched.    These 
supposed  by  their  firieads  to  bo  tbe 

Bisbop  Bedell,  a  jgreat  and  good  man,  reapaeted 
by  his  adversaries,  m  an  address  to  his  dergy,  ohae 
*  Our  calling  is  to  dsal  with  errors,  not  to  diagvaee  the 
with  scolding  words.  It  is  said  of  Alexander,  I 
when  he  overoeard  one  ofhis  aoldiers  railiiig  IobuIt  \ 
Darius  his  enemy^  that  he  reproved  him,  and 
**  Friend,  I  eniertam  thee  to  figni  against  Darius,  not  to 
revile  him;"  *  and  myaentisMnts  of  treating  the  Catboliea,* 
oondudea  Beclell,  *  are  not  fmifjamahle  to  the  practke  of 
Luther  and  CiJvin :  but  they  were  but  men,  and  nerfaua 
we  muat  oonfeaa  thev  suffered  themselves  to  yiela  to  the 
violence  of  passion.^ 

The  Fathers  of  the  church  were  proficienls  in  the  ait 
of  abuse,  and  very  ingeniously  defended  it.  St  Austin 
affirms  that  the  keenest  personahty  may  produce  a  wa»> 
derful  effi»ct,  in  opening  a  man's  eyes  to  nia  own  fiiBiea. 
He  illustrates  his  position  with  a  stoij,  given  with  grcnt 
sim|rficilv,  of  his  mother  Saint  Monica  with  her 
Saint  Monica  certainly  wouM  have  been  a 
drunkard,  had  not  her  maid  timdy  and 
abused  her.  The  story  will  amuse.^  My  mother" 
little  and  lUtle  accustomed  herself  to  relish  wine, 
used  to  send  her  to  the  cellar,  as  being  one  of  the 
in  the  family :  she  first  sipped  firom  the  jug  and  tasted  a 
few  drops,  fitr  she  abhorred  wine,  and  did  not  care  la 
drink.  However,  she  gradually  accustomed  herself,  and 
from  simiing  it  on  her  lips  she  swallowed  a  draught.  As 
people  mxn  the  smallest  faults  insensibly  increase,  aha 
at  length  liked  wine,  and  drank  bumpers.  But  one  day 
being  ak»e  with  her  maid  who  usually  attended  her  to  the 
cellar,  they  quarrelled,  and  the  maid  bitterly  repronched 
her  with  being  a  dnptkard  !  That  omgU  word  atmck  bar 
so  poignantlv  that  it  opened  her  understanding;  and  rs-> 
fleeting  on  tne  defbrmi^  of  the  vice,  she  desisted  lor  evsr 
from  its  use.' 

To  jeer  and  play  droll,  or,  in  his  own  words,  do  boi^ 
/onner,  was  a  nmde  of  controversy  the  great  AmaaM  de- 
fended as  permitted  by  the  writings  of  the  holy  fiithers.  It 
is  still  more  singular,  when  he  not  only  brings  forward  as 
an  example  of  this  ribaldrv,  Elijah  awdbbig-  at  the  fabe 
divinities,  but  God  himself  6anicr«iig'  the  first  man  after 
his  fall.  He  justifies  the  injurious  epithets  vriiich  he  has 
so  liberally  bestowed  on  his  adversaries  by  the  example  of 
Jesus  Chnst  and  the  apostles !  It  was  on  these  grounds 
also  that  the  celebrated  Pascal  apologized  for  the  invec- 
tives with  which  he  has  occasionally  disfigured  his  Pro- 
vincial Letters.  A  Jesuit,  famous  for  twenty  foUos  which 
contain  his  works,  has  collected  *  An  Alphabetica]  Cata- 
logue of  the  Names  of  JleosCs  by  which  the  Fathers  chai^ 
acterized  the  Heretics.'  It  may  be  fbond  in  JBntewwtB 
demaHi  ae  bonio  Libna,  p.  »S,  4to,  166S,  of  Father  Ray* 
naud«  This  list  of  brates  and  insects,  ^tnn^  whs  ' 
a  vast  variety  of  serpents,  is  accompaniod  by  the 
of  the  heretics  designated ! 

Waro  in  his  Irish  Writers,  informs  us  of  one  \ 

Fitzsermon.  an  Irish  Jesuit,  who  was  imprisoned  for  \m 
papistical  desigos  and  sediUous  preaching.  Daring  \m 
confinement  he  proved  himself  to  be  a  great  amateur  ci 
controversy.  He  said  « he  felt  like  a  bear  tied  to  a  stake, 
and  wanted  somebod>  to  6aal  him,'  A  kind  ofiice,  zeal- 
TOsly  undertaken  by  the  learned  Utker  then  a  young  man. 

5L!!355?^*  ^T^  with  him  once  o  «w*  on  the  wbject 
of  mftdlrM:    They  met  several  times.    It  appears  that 

I!1JT5.??  ««*•''«'"•«*.  anddecHned  any^rtber  ite- 
OmftiV-  This  spread  an  universal  joy  through  the  Protest- 
anu  m  Dubhn.  Such  was  the  spi'ritV  those  times/which 
appears  to  have  been  very  different  from  ourow^.  Dr 
Dwney  gives  an  anecdote  of  a  modern  bishop  who  was 
lurt  advanceo  to  a  mitre ;  his  bookseller  beg-eS  to  repub* 

Mvkud  answered.*  Ar  •  •  ♦  nomorecontroJer^ww- 



Our  food  bishop  retembled  Baldwin,  who,  from  m  limple 
moDB,  arrived  to  the  honour  of  the  see  c^Canterburj.  The 
auGcestive  honours  successively  changed  his  manners. 
UrlMm  the  Second  inscribed  hta  brief  to  him  in  this  concise 
description— Sa/(ftoino  Monaatieo  ferventisaimOf  Abbott 
adidOi  Eji»e€fo  tepido,  Arehiqnacopa  renduo  ! 

On  the  subject  of  literary  controyersies  we  cannot  pan 
over  the  various  sects  of  the  scholastics ;  a  volume  might 
easily  be  compiled  of  their  ferocious  wars,  which  in  more 
than  one  instance  were  accompanied  bj  stones  and  dag- 
gers. The  most  memorable,  on  account  of  the  extent,  the 
violence,  and  duration  of  their  contests,  are  those  of  the 
Nominalists  and  the  Realists. 

It  was  a  most  subtile  question  assuredly,  and  the  world 
thought  for  a  long  while  that  their  happiness  depended  on 
deciding,  whether  universals,  that  is  genera^  have  a  real 
enence,  and  exist  independent  of  particulars,  that  is  spe- 
cies .*— whether,  for  instance,  we  could  form  an  idea  of 
asses,  prior  to  individual  asses?  Rosseline,  in  the  eleventh 
century,  adopted  the  opinion  that  universals  have  no  real 
existences,  either  before  or  in  individuals,  but  are  mere 
oames  and  words  by  which  the  kind  of  individuals,  is  ex- 
pressed. A  tenet  propagated  by  Abelard,  which  produced 
the  sect  of  the  Nomxnali$U,  But  the  RecJi$ta  asserted  that 
universals  existed  independent  of  individuals,— thoueh  they 
were  somewhat  divided  between  the  various  opinions  of 
Plato  and  Aristotle.  Of  the  Realists  the  most  famous 
were  Thomas  Aquinas  and  Duns  Scotus.  The  cause  of 
the  Nominalists  was  almost  desperate,  till  Occam  in  the 
Iburteenth  century  revived  the  dying  embers.  Louis  XI 
adopted  the  Nominalists,  and  the  Nominalists  flourished 
at  large  in  France  and  Germany ;  but  unfortunately  Pope 
John  XXIII  patronized  the  Rralists,  and  throughout  Italy 
it  was  dangerous  for  a  Nominalist  to  open  his  Hps.  The 
French  king  wavered,  and  the  Pope  triumphed ;  his  ma- 
jesty published  an  edict  in  1474,  in  which  he  silenced  for 
ever  tne  Nominaluts,  and  ordered  their  bodis  to  be  fast- 
ened up  in  their  libraries  with  iron  chains,  that  they  might 
not  be  read  by  young  students !  The  leaders  of  that  sect 
fled  into  England  and  Germany,  where  they  united  their 
forces  with  Luther  and  the  first  Reformers. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  violence  with  which  these 
disputes  were  conducted.  Vives  himself,  who  witnessed 
the  contests,  says  that  *  when  the  contending  parties  had 
exhausted  their  stock  of  verbal  abuse,  they  often  came  to 
blows ;  and  it  was  not  unc<Nnmon  in  these  quarrels  about 
umvenaUy  to  see  the  combatants  engaging  not  only  with 
their  fists,  but  with  clubs  and  swords,  so  that  many  have 
been  wounded  and  some  killed.' 

I  add  a  curious  extract  from  John  of  Salisbury,  on 
this  war  of  words,  which  Mosheim  has  eiven  in  his  Ec- 
clesiastical History.  He  observes  on  all  this  terrifying 
nonsense, '  that  there  had  been  more  time  consumed  in  it, 
than  the  Cnsars  had  employed  in  making  themselves  mas- 
ters of  the  world ;  that  the  riches  of  Crcesus  were  inferior 
to  the  treasures  that  had  been  exhausted  in  this  contro- 
versy ;  and  that  the  contending  parties,  after  having  spent 
their  whole  lives  on  this  single  point,  had  neither  been  so 
happy  as  to  determine  it  to  their  satisfaction,  nor  to  make 
in  the  labyrinths  of  science  where  they  had  been  groping, 
any  discovery  that  was  worth  the  pams  they  had  taken.' 
It  may  be  added  that  Ramus  havmg  attacked  Aristotle, 
for  *  teaching  us  chimeras,'  all  his  scholars  revolted ;  the 

Cariiament  put  a  stop  to  his  lectures,  and  ut  length  having 
ron^t  the  matter  into  a  law-court,  he  was  declared  to 
be  *  insolent  and  daring'— the  king  proscribed  his  works, 
he  was  ridiculed  on  the  stage,  and  Iiissed  at  by  his  scho- 
lars. When  at  length,  during  the  plague,  he  opened  again 
his  schools,  he  drew  on  himself  a  fresh  storm  by  reforming 
the  pronunciatifMi  of  the  letter  d,  which  they  then  pro- 
nounced like  K— Kiskis  for  duiaquis,  and  Kamkam  for 
duamquam.  This  innovation  was  once  more  laid  to  his 
charge :  a  new  rebi'llion !  and  a  new  ejection  of  the  Ant^ 
Aristotelian!  The  brother  of  thatGabriAl  Harvey  who 
was  the  friend  of  Spenser,  and  with  Gabriel  had  been  the 
whetstone  of  the  town-wits  of  his  time,  distinguished  him- 
self by  bis  wrath  against  the  Staeyrite.  After  having 
with  Gabriel  predicted  an  earthquake,  and  alarmed  the 
kingdom,  whtcn  never  took  place,  (that  is  the  earthquake, 
not  the  aJarm)  the  wiia  buflreted  him.  Nash  says  of  him 
that  <  Tariton  at  the  theatre  made  jests  of  him,  and  Elder- 
ton  consumed  his  ale-crammed  nose  to  nothing,  in  beai^ 
liailing  him  with  whole  bundles  of  ballads.'  Marlow  de- 
clared him  to  be  *  an  ass  fit  onl^  to  preach  of  the  iron  age.' 
Stung  to  madness  by  this  lively  nests  of  hornets,  he 

avenged  himself  in  a  yery  cowardly  manner- 
Aristotle  himself!  for  he  set  Jiriatatle  with 
tDortis  on  the  school  gates  at  Cambridge,  anc, 
eors  on  his  head ! 

Bui  this  controversy  concerning  Aristotle  an'tf  the  school 
divinity  was  even  prolonged  so  late  as  in  the  last  century. 
Father  de  Benedictis,  a  Jesuit,  and  professor  in  the  college 
at  Naples,  published  in  1668  four  volumes  of  peripatetic 
philosophy,  to  establish  the  principles  of  Aristotle.  Ths 
work  was  exploded,  and  he  wrote  an  abusive  treatise  under 
the  Norn  de  guerre  of  Benedetto  Aletino.  A  man  of 
letters,  Constantino  Grimaldi,  replied.  Aletino  rej<nned; 
he  wrote  letters,  an  apology  for  the  letters,  and  would  have 
written  more  for  Anstot^  than  Aristotle  himself  perhaps 
would  have  done.  However,  Grimaldi  was  no  ordinary 
antagonist,  and  not  to  be  outwoaried.  He  had  not  only 
the  Mst  of  the  argument  but  he  was  resolved  to  tell  the 
world  so,  as  long  as  the  world  would  listen.  Whether  he 
killed  ofi*  Father  Benedictis  is  not  affirmed ;  but  the  latter 
died  during  the  controversy.  Grimaldi  however  afteiw 
wards  pursued  his  ghost,  and  bufieted  the  father  in  his 

Srave.  This  enraged  the  University  of  Naples ;  and  the 
esuits,  to  a  man,  denounced  Grimaldi  to  Pope  Benedict 
XIII  and  Cardinal  D'Althan,  the  Vicerov  of  Naples. 
On  this  the  Pope  issued  a  bull  prohibiting  tne  reading  of 
Grimaldi's  works,  or  keeping  them,  under  pain  of  excom- 
munication ;  and  the  cardinal,  more  active  than  the  bull, 
caused  all  the  copies  which  were  found  in  the  author's 
house  to  be  thrown  into  the  tea!  The  author  with  tears  in 
his  eyes  beheld  them  expatriated  and  hardly  hoped  their 
voyage  would  have  been  successful.  However,  all  the  little 
family  of  the  Grimaldis  were  not  drowned— for  a  storm 
arose,  and  happily  drove  ashore  many  of  the  floating 
copies,  and  these  falling  into  good  and  charitable  handi^ 
the  heretical  opinions  of  poor  Grimaldi  against  Aristotle 
and  school  divinity  were  still  read  by  those  who  were  not 
out-terrified  by  the  Pope's  bulls.  The  M^Ud  passages 
were  still  at  hand,  and  quoted  with  a  double  zest  against 
the  Jesuits ! 

We  now  turn  to  writers  whose  controversy  was  kindlea 
only  by  subjects  of  polite  literature.  The  particulars 
form  a  curious  picture  of  the  taste  and  character  of  the  age. 

'  There  is,'  says  Joseph  Scaliger,  that  great  critic  and 
reviler,  *  an  art  of  abuse  or  slandering,  of  which  those  tha 
are  ignorant  may  be  said  to  defame  others  much  less  that 
they  show  a  wiilingness  to  defame.' 

*  Literary  wars,'  says  Bayle,  *  are  sometimes  as  lasting 
as  they  are  terrible.*  A  disputation  between  two  great 
scholars  was  so  interminably  vicdent,  that  it  lasted  thirty 
years !  He  humourously  compares  its  duration  to  the  Ger» 
man  war  which  lasted  as  long. 

Baillet,  when  he  refuted  the  sentiments  of  a  certain  au- 
thor, always  did  it  without  naming  him;  but  when  he  found 
any  observation  which  he  deemed  commendable,  he  quoted 
his  name.  Bayle  observes,  that  *  this  is  an  excess  of  p^ 
liteness,  prejudicial  to  that  freedom  which  should  ever 
exist  in  the  republic  of  letters  ;  that  it  should  be  allowed 
always  to  name  those  whom  we  refute ;  and  that  it  is  suffi« 
cient  for  this  purpose  that  we  banish  asperity,  malice,  and 

After  tnese  preliminary  observations,  I  shall  brinjg  fur- 
ward  various  examples  where  this  excellent  advice  is  by 
no  means  regarded. 

Erasmus  produced  a  dialogue,  in  which  he  ridiculed 
those  scholars  who  were  servile  imitators  of  Cicero ;  so 
servile  that  they  would  employ  no  expression  but  what  was 
found  in  the  works  of  that  writer ;  every  thing  with  them 
was  Ciceronianized.  This  dialogue  is  written  with  great 
humour.  Julius  Ceasar  Scaliger,  the  father,  who  was 
then  unknown  to  the  world,  had  been  long  looking  for  soma 
occasion  to  distinguish  himself :  he  now  wrote  a  defence 
of  Cicero,  but  which  in  fact  was  one  continued  invective 
against  Erasmus :  he  there  treats  the  latter  as  illiterate,  a 
drunkard,  an  imposter,  an  apostate,  a  hangman,  a  demon 
hot  from  hell !  The  same  Scaliger,  acting  on  the  same 
principle  of  distinguishing  himseir  at  the  cost  of  others, 
attacked  Cardan's  best  woric  De  SubtUitate :  his  criticism 
did  not  appear  till  seven  years  after  the  first  edition  of  the 
work,  and  then  he  obstinately  stuck  to  that  edition,  thourii 
Carden  had  corrected  it  in  subsequent  ones ;  but  this  Scali* 
gor  chose,  that  he  might  have  a  wider  field  for  his  attack. 
After  this,  a  rumour  spread  that  Cardan  had  died  of  vexa- 
tion from  our  Julius  Cvtars's  invincible  pen  ;  then  Scali- 
ger pretended  to  feel  all  the  regret  possiole  for  a  man  he 
had  killed,  and  whom  he  now  praised :  however,  his  reget 



had  M  btUe  iuuiidAiioa  as  his  tritunph ;  for  Cmrdan  oot- 
fived  Scalifer  nnny  yean,  and  vahied  hi*  criticiiaMr  too 
chMoij  to  haTo  suiierrd  them  to  hate  dietiirbed  his  quiet* 
AD  mis  does  not  exceed  the  timeetfoes  of  Poggioi,  who  has 

thus  entitled  several  literary  libels cooBposedagai 
d*  his  adversaries,  Laarenuus  VaOa,  Fhilelphos,  kc,  who 
fatnrncd  the  poisooed  chalice  to  his  own  lips ;  dedamaiiaiM 
of  scurrilitT,  obscenity,  and  calumny,  which  are  noticed  in 
Mr.  Shepherd's  Life  oT  Poggios. 

Scioppms  was  a  worthy  successor  of  the  Scalicen;  his 
fiivourite  ezpresskw  was,  that  he  had  trodden  down  his 

Sdoppius  was  a  criUc,  as  skilful  as  Sahnasius  or  Scnli- 
ger,  but  still  more  learned  in  the  language  of  abuse.  He 
was  regarded  as  the  AliOa  of  authors.  He  boasted 
that  he  had  occasioned  the  deaths  of  Casaubon  and 
Scaliger;  and  such  was  the  in^mdence  of  this  cynic, 
that  he  attacked  wi(h  repeated  satu-cs  our  James  the  Kint, 
who,  as  Arthur  Wilson  informs  us,  condemned  his  writings 
10  be  burnt  in  London.  Detested  and  dreaded  as  the 
public  scourge,  Sdopinus,  at  the  close  of  his  life,  was 
fiHuful  he  should  find  no  retreat  in  which  he  mig^t  be  secure. 

The  great  Casaubon  employs  the  dialect  of  St.  Giles's 
in  his  furious  attacks  on  the  learned  Dalechamps,  the  L»- 
tin  tran^tor  of  Atheneus.  To  this  great  physician  he 
stood  more  deeply  indebted  than  he  "h  *<*-  to  confess ;  and 
to  conceal  the  claims  of  this  litetui  j.  >.  •  ^  .ti.^. ,  tip  called  out 
Vetcffuim!  In$iamm!  TWeaiam!  Ik.c.  U  was  the  fashion 
of  that  day  with  the  redoubtable  and  ferocious  heroes  of 
die  literary  republic,  to  overwhelm  each  other  with  invec- 
tive ;  and  to  consider  their  own  grandeur  to  consist  in  the 
bulk  of  their  books,  and  their  triumphs  in  reducing  their 
Brother  giants  into  pony  dwar&.  In  science,  Linnaeus  had 
a  dread  of  controversy ;  conqueror  or  conquered  we  cannot 
encape  without  disgrace !  Mathiolus  would  have  been  the 
groat  man  of  his  day,  hod  he  not  meddled  with  such  mat- 
ters. Who  is  gratified  by  *  the  mad  Comarus,*  or  *  the 
flayed  Fox  V  titles  which  Fochsius  and  Comarus,  two 
•minent  botanists,  have  bestowed  on  each  other.  Some 
who  were  too  fond  of  controversy,  as  they  grew  wiser, 
hare  refiised  to  take  op  the  nuntlet. 

The  heat  and  acrimony  of  verbal  critics  hare  exceeded 
description.  Their  stigmas  and  anathemas  have  been  lone 
known  to  bear  no  proportion  against  the  offences  to  which 
they  have  been  directed.  *  Grod  confound  you,'  cried  <»e 
grammariin  to  another,  *for  yomr  theory  of  impersonal 
verbs !'  There  was  a  long  and  terrible  controversy  fbr- 
ineriy,  whether  the  Florentme  dialect  was  to  prevail  over 
the  others.  The  academy  was  put  to  great  trouble,  and 
the  Anticruscans  were  often  on  the  point  of  annulling  this 
supremacy;  una  mordaee terUura  was  applied  to  one  of 
these  literary  canons ;  and  in  a  letter  of  those  times  the 
following  paragraph  appears:  *Pescetii  is  preparing  to 

f've  a  second  answer  to  Beni,  which  will  not  please  him ; 
now  bebevo  the  proph'acy  of  Cavalier  Tedeschi  will  be 
ver^M.  and  that  this  controversy,  begun  with  pens,  will 
ml  with  poniards !' 

Fabretti,  an  Italian,  wrote  furiously  against  Gronovius, 
whom  he  calls  GruiuioriMS.*  he  compared  him  to  all  those 
animals  whose  voice  was  expressed  by  the  word  Gruniiirt, 
to  ^rvfif.  Gronovius  was  so  malevolent  a  critic,  that  he 
«ras  distinguished  by  the  title  of  the  *  Grammatical  Cur.' 

Wh<m  critics  venture  to  alUck  the  person  as  well  as  the 
performance  of  an  author,  1  recommend  the  salutary  prt^ 
eeedings  of  Hubenis,  the  writer  of  an  esteemed  Universal 
History.  He  had  been  so  roushly  handled  by  Perizonius, 
that  he  obli^red  him  to  make  the  amende  honourable  in  a 
court  of  jiaticr. 

Certain  authors  may  be  distinguished  by  the  title  of  Lit- 
erary Bobadils,  or  fighting  authors.  It  is  said  of  one  of 
our  own  celebrated  writers,  that  he  drew  his  sword  on  a 
reviewer ;  and  another,  when  his  farce  was  condemned, 
oflTored  to  fieht  any  one  of  the  audience  who  hiraed. 
Scodery,  brotlier  of  the  celebrated  Mademoiselle  Scudery, 
was  a  true  Parnassian  bully.  The  first  publication  which 
broQght  him  into  notice  was  his  edition  of  the  works  of  bis 
fhend  Theophile.  He  concludes  the  preface  with  these 
singular  expressions ;— ^  I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare,  that 
amongst  all  the  dead,  and  til  the  living,  there  is  no  person 
who  has  any  thing  to  show  that  approaches  the  force  of 
thb  vigorous  genius ;  but  if,  amongst  tho  latter,  any  one 
wore  so  extravagant  as  to  consider  that  1  detract  from  his 
taaginary  ^ory  to  show  him,  that  I  feai  as  little  as  I  ea- 
ineBB  him.  tn^'ui  to  mlbrm  biro,  that  my  name  is 

Os  SciTDBnv.' 

A  similar  rhodoMontade  is  thai  of  Cfauade  TreOon,  a 
porticai  SoUier,  who  begins  his  poems  by  chaBenging  tfM 
critics ;  assoiing  them  that  if  any  one  attempts  to 
him,  he  will  oi^  condescend  to  answer  sword  in 
Father  Maoedo.  a  Portngoeae  Jesuit,  haviu 
against  Cardinal  Noma,  on  the  monkery  of  St  Austin,  it 
was  deemed  necessary  to  silence  both  parties.  Macedot 
compelled  to  relinquish  the  pen,  sent  his  adversary  a  dmW 
lenge,  and  according  to  the  laws  of  chivalry,  appointsd  n 
place  for  meeting  m  the  woods  of  Boidogne.  Annthm 
edict  to  forbid  the  duel !  Macedo  then  Bsunuared  at  hia 
hard  fote,  which  would  not  sufler  him,  for  the  sake  of  St 
Austin,  for  whom  he  had  a  particular  regard,  to  spijl  nss- 
ther  his  mJk  nor  his  blood, 

Anti,  prefixed  to  the  name  of  the  person  attacked,  wan 
once  a  favourite  title  to  books  of  literary  oontroro^. 
With  a  critical  review  of  such  books  BadkH  has  fiUed  a 
quarto  vdume ;  yet,  such  was  the  abundant  harvest, 
he  lefl  considerable  Jennings  for  posterior  industry. 

Anti-Gronovius  was  a  book  published  against  Gi 
vius,  by  Kuster.  Perizonius,  another  pugilist  of  Bteratva, 
entered  into  thi»  dispute  on  the  sobieet  of  the  JSEU  grave 
of  the  ancients,  to  which  Kuster  had  just  adverted  at  the 
close  of  his  volume.  What  was  the  consequence  I 
Dreadfiil  !•— Answers  and  rejmnders  from  both,  m  whieh 
they  bespattered  each  other  with  the  foulest  anuar.  A 
journalist  pleasantly  blames  this  acrimonious  oontrovetiv. 
Ue  says,  *  To  read  the  pamphlets  of  a  Perixonius,  ana  a 
Kuster  on  the  JEs  grave  of  the  ancients,  who  wooU  not 
renounce  tdl  commerce  with  antiquity  ?  It  seems  as  if  an 
Affsmemnon  and  an  Achilles  were  railing  at  each  other. 
Woo  can  refrain  from  laughter,  when  one  of  these  com- 
mentators even  points  his  attacks  at  the  very  name  of  hb 
adversary?  According  to  Kuster,  the  name  of  Perixonins 
signifies  ti  eertain  part  of  the  himan  body.  How  is  itpon- 
sible,  that  with  sudi  a  name  he  could  be  right  con- 
oenung  the  JSs  grave  ?  But  does  that  of  Kuster  pti^ 
mise  a  better  thing,  since  itsignifies  abeadle ;  a  man  vHm 
drives  does  out  of  churches  7— What  madness  is  this  !* 

ComeiDe,  like  our  Dryden,  felt  the  acrimony  of  literary 
irritation.  To  tlM  critical  strictures  of  lyaubigaac  it  b 
acknowledged  he  paid  the  greatest  attention,  for,  af\er  this 
critic's  Pratique  au  Theatre  appeared,  his  tragedies  wera 
more  artfully  conducted.  But  instead  of  mentioning  the 
critic  with  due  praise,  he  preserved  an  ungratefiil  silence. 
This  occasioned  a  quarrel  between  the  poet  and  the  critic, 
in  which  the  former  exhaled  his  bile  m  several  ah 
epigrams,  which  have,  fortunately  for  his  credit,  not 
preserved  in  his  works. 

The  lively  Voltaire  couki  not  resist  the  charm  of 
ing  his  adversaries.  We  may  smile  when  he  calls  a  blocfc> 
head,  a  blockhead ;  a  dotard,  a  dotard ;  but  when  he  al* 
tacks,  for  a  difference  of  opinion,  the  morab  of  another 
man,  our  sensibility  is  alarmed.  A  higher  tribunal  than 
that  of  criticisms  is  to  deckle  on  the  aetume  of  men. 

There  is  a  certain  disguised  malice,  which  some  writM* 
have  roost  unfiurly  empUiyed  in  characterising  a  conte^ 
porary.  Burnet  called  Prior,  one  Rrior,  In  Bishop  Par* 
ker's  History  of  his  own  Times,  an  innocent  reader  may 
start  at  seeing  the  celebrated  Marvell  described  as  an 
outcast  of  society ;  an  infamous  libeller ;  and  one  whooe 
talents  were  even  more  despicable  than  his  person.  To 
such  lengths  did  the  hatred  of  party,  united  with  personal 
rancour,  carry  this  bishop,  who  was  himself  the  wotst  of 


time-servers.  He  was,  however,  amply  repaid  by 
keen  wit  of  Marvell  m  *  The  Rehearsal 
which  may  still  he  read  with  delight,  as  an  admirable 
fusion  of  ranter,  wit,  and  satire.  Le  Clerc,  a  cool  pon- 
derous Greek  critic,  quarrelled  with  Boileau  about  a  pas* 
sage  in  Longinus,  and  several  years  aflerwards,  in  revi^ 
ing  Moreri's  Dictionary,  gave  a  short  sarcastic  notice  of 
the  poet's  brother;  in  wtiidi  be  calls  him  the  elder  brother 
of  him  kwho  kae  written  the  book  entitkd  <  Satires  of3h 
BoUeau  lyEepreaus  ."—the  works  of  the  modern  Horace, 
which  were  then  delightins  Europe,  he  calls,  with  simple 
impudence,  a  book  entitled  Satires ! 

The  works  of  Homer  produced  a  controversy,  both  kmg 
and  virulent,  amongst  the  wits  of  France.  Tms  Icteraiy 
quarrel  is  of  some  note  in  the  annals  of  literature,  smce  A 
has  produced  two  valuable  books ;  La  Motte's  *  ReflexionB 
sur  la  Critique,'  and  Madame  Dacier's  *  Des  Causes  do 
la  Corruption  de  Gout.'  Of  the  rival  works  it  has  been 
said  that  La  Motto  wrote  with  feminine  delicacy,  and 
Madame  Darner  like  an  Universiiy  pedant.  *  At  length,* 
as  tho  author  of  ^uerOeo  lHUrvreo  informs  us,  *  by  the 



eflTorts  of  Vtlineour,  the  friend  of  art,  of  artittij  and  of 
peace,  the  contest  was  tenninated.'  Both  paruee  were 
formidable  in  number,  and  to  each  be  made  remonstrances, 
and  applied  reproaches.  X^a  Motte  and  Madame  Dacier, 
ihe  opposite  leaders,  were  conrinced  by  his  arguments, 
made  reciprocal  concessions,  and  conchided  a  piece .  The 
treaty  was  formally  rati6ed  at  a  dinner,  given  on  the  oe* 
casion  by  a  Madame  De  Stael,  who  represented  *  Neu* 
trality.'  Xabationa  were  poured  to  the  memory  of  old 
Homer,  and  the  parties  were  reconciled. 


When  Dante  published  hn  *  Iniemo,'  the  simplicity  of 
the  age  accepted  it  as  a  true  narrative  of  bis  descent  into 


When  the  Utopia  of  Sir  Thomas  More  was  6rst  pub- 
lished, it  occasioned  a  pleasant  mistake.  This  political 
romance  represents  a  perfect,  but  visionary  re|niblic,  in  an 
islaiid  supposed  to  have  been  newly-discovered  in  America. 
» As  this  was  the  age  of  discovery,  says  Granger,  *  the 
learned  Budeus,  and  others,  took  it  for  a  genuine  history; 
and  considered  it  as  highly  expedient,  that  missionaries 
should  be  sent  thither,  in  order  to  convert  so  wise  a  nation 
10  Christianity.*  ...... 

It  was  a  long  while  after  publication  that  many  readers 
were  convinceo  that  Gulliver^s  Travels  were  fictitious. 

But  the  most  singular  blunder  was  produced  by  the  in- 

Kious  *  Hermipptts  Redivivus'  of  Dr  Uampbell  a  curious 
it«r  on  the  hermetic  philoeophv  and  the  universal  medi- 
cine ;  but  the  grave  irony  is  so  cfosely  kept  up  throughout 
Uiis  admirable  treatise,  that  it  deceived  for  a  length  of 
time  the  most  learned  of  that  day.  His  notion  of  the  art 
of  prolonging  life,  by  inhaling  the  breath  of  young  women, 
was  eagerly  credited.  A  physician  who  himself  hsd 
composed  a  treatise  on  health,  was  so  influenced  by  it, 
that  he  actually  took  lodgings  at  a  female  boarding-school, 
that  he  might  never  be  without  a  constant  supply  of  the 
breath  of  young  ladies.  The  late  Mr  Thicknesse  seriously 
adopted  the  project.  Dr  Kippis  acknowledges  that  afier 
he  read  the  work  in  his  youtti,  the  reasonings  and  the  facU 
left  him  several  days  m  a  kind  of  fiiiry  land.  I  have  a 
copy  with  manuscript  notes  by  a  learned  physician,  who 
seems  to  have  had  no  doubts  of  its  veracity.  After  all, 
the  hitention  of  the  work  was  long  doubtful ;  till  Dr  Gamp- 
bell  informed  a  friend  it  was  a  mere  jeu  d'esprit;  that 
Bayle  was  considered  as  standing  without  a  rival  in  the 
art  of  treating  at  large  a  difficult  subject,  without  discover- 
ing to  which  side  his  own  sentiments  leaned;  and  Dr 
Campbell  had  likewise  read  more  uncommon  books  than 
most  men ;  he  wished  to  rival  Bayle,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  give  to  the  world  much  unknown  matter.  He  has 
admirably  succeeded,  and  with  this  key  the  whole  mystery 
is  unlocked.  ..    -  — 

Palavictni,  in  his  History  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  to 
confer  an  honour  on  M.  Lansac,  ambassador  of  Charles 
tit  to  that  council,  bestows  on  him  a  collar  of  the  order 
of  Saint  Esprit ;  but  which  order  was  not  instituted  till 
several  years  afterwards,  by  Henry  III.  A  similar  volun- 
tary blunder  is  that  of  Suriia,  in  his  ArmaU»  de  la  Corona 
de  Aragon.  This  writer  represents,  in  the  battles  he  de- 
scribes, many  persons  who  were  not  present ;  and  this, 
merely  to  confer  honour  on  some  particular  families. 

A  book  was  written  in  praise  of  Ciampini  by  Ferdinand 
Fabiani,  who,  quoting  a  French  narrative  of  travels  in 
Italy,  took  for  the  name  of  the  author  the  fullowing  words, 
(bond  at  the  end  of  the  title-pag[e,  Enriehi  de  deux  Lietee; 
that  is,  <  Enriched  with  two  Lists ;'  on  this  he  observes, 
*  that  Mr  Enriched  with  two  lisN  has  not  failed  to  do  that 
justice  to  Ciampini  which  he  merited.'  The  abridgerR  of 
Qesner's  Bibliotheca  ascribe  the  romanctv  of  Amadis  to 
one  Aeuerdo  OMdo;  Remembrance,  Oblivion.  Not 
knowing  that  these  two  words  placed  on  Ihe  title-page  of 
the  French  version  of  that  book,  formed  the  translator's 

Spanish  motto !  ....,». 

D'Aquin,  the  French  king's  physician,  in  his  Memoir 
on  the  Preparation  of  Bark,  ukes  Mantieea,  which  is  the 
title  of  the  Appendix  to  the  History  of  Plants  by  Johnstone, 
for  the  name  of  an  author,  and  who,  he  says,  is  so  extremely 
rare,  that  he  only  knows  him  by  name. 

Lord  Bolingbroke  imagined,  that  in  those  fanKxis  verses, 
beginning  with  Exeudeni  aln,  ^,  Virgil  attributed  to  the 
Romans  the  glory  of  having  surpassed  tlie  Greeks  in  his- 
torical compotition :  according  to  his  idea,  those  Roman 
histuriani  wh  m  V'rgil  preferrai  to  the  Grecian*,  were 

Sallustj  Livy,  and  Tacitus.     But  Virgil  died  before  LivX 
had  written  his  history,  or  Tacitus  was  born. 
An  honest  ft'iar,  who  compiled  a  church  history,  ha9 

f  laced  in  the  class  of  ecclesiastical  writers,  Guarini,  tbo 
talian  poet  -,  this  arose  from  a  most  risible  blunder :  on 
the  faith  of  the  title  of  his  celebrated  amorous  pastoral,  Jl 
PoMtor  JidOf  <  The  Faithful  Shepherd,'  our  good  father 
imagined  that  the  character  of  a  curate,  vicar,  or  bishopi 
was  represented  in  this  work. 

A  blonder  has  been  recorded  of  the  monks  in  the  dark 
ages,  which  was  likely  enough  to  happen  when  their  igno- 
rance was  so  dense.  A  rector  of  a  parish  going  to  law 
with  his  parishioners  about  paving  the  church,  quoted  this 
authority  from  St  Peter^Paveon/  iUif  turn  pcmeam  ego ; 
which  he  construed.  They  are  to  pave  theekurchf  not  I. 
This  was  allowed  to  be  good  law  by  a  judge,  himself  an 
ecclesiastic  too ! 

One  of  the  grossest  literary  blunders  of  modem  times  is 
that  of  the  late  Gilbert  Wakefield,  in  his  edition  of  Pope. 
He  there  takes  the  well  known  '  Scmg  by  a  Person  of 
Quality,'  which  u  a  piece  of  ridicule  on  the  glitterinf 
tuneful  nonsense  of  certain  poets,  as  a  serious  composition. 
In  a  most  copious  commentary,  he  fatigues  himselfto  prove 
that  every  line  seems  unconnected  with  its  brothers,  and 
that  the  whole  reflects  disgrace  on  its  author,  &c.  A  cir- 
cumstance which  too  evidently  shows  how  necessary  the 
knowledge  of  modem  literary  history  is  to  a  modem  com- 
mentator, and  that  those  who  are  profound  in  verbal  Greek 
are  not  the  best  critics  on  English  writers. 

Prosper  Marchand  has  recorded  a  pleasant  mistake  of 
Abb6  Bizot,  the  author  of  the  medalUc  history  of  Holland. 
Having  met  with  a  medal,  struck  when  Philip  II  set  furth 
his  immuible  Armada,  on  which  was  represented  the  King 
of  Spain,  the  Emperor,  the  Pope,  Electors,  Cardinals, 
&c,  with  their  eyes  covered  with  a  bandage  and  bearing  fur 
inscription  this  fine  verse  of  Lucretius : 

O  CflDcss  hominum  mentes !    O  pectora  caeca  ! 

prepossessed  with  the  false  prejudice,  that  a  nation  perse- 
cuted by  the  pope  and  his  adherents  could  not  represent 
them  without  some  insult,  he  did  not  examine  with  sul^ 
ficient  care  the  ends  of  the  bandages  which  covered  the 
eyes  and  waved  about  the  heads  of  the  personages  repre- 
sented on  this  medal ;  he  rashlv  took  them  for  osscs.  eear$, 
and  as  such  they  are  engraved : 

Mabillon  has  preserved  a  curious  literary  blunder  of 
some  pious  Spaniards,  who  applied  to  the  Pope  for  con- 
secrating a  day  in  honour  ol  Saint  Viar,  His  holiness, 
in  the  voluminous  catalogue  of  his  saints,  was  ignorant  of 
this  one.  The  only  proof  brought  forwards  for  his  exist- 
ence was  this  inscnption : 

S.    VIAM. 

An  antiquarv,  however,  hinder«!d  one  more  festival  in  the 
Catholic  calendar,  b^  convincing  them  thai  these  letters 
were  only  the  remains  of  an  inscription  erected  for  an 
ancient  surveyor  of  the  roads ;  and  he  read  their  saintship 

pnxFECTtrS  VIARuM. 

MafTei,  in  his  comparison  between  Medals  and  Inscrip- 
tions, detecU  a  literary  blunder  in  Spon,  who,  meeting 
with  this  inscription. 

Maxima  VI.  Console, 
takes  the  letters  VI  for  numerals,  which  occasions  a  strange 
anachronism.    They  are  only  contractions  of  Viro  IU%%' 

/ri— vr. 

As  absurd  a  blunder  was  this  of  Dr  Stukeley  on  ths 
coins  of  Carausius;  finding  a  battered  one  with  a  defaced 
inscription  of  * 

rORTTnA    AVg. 

he  read  it 


And  sagaciously  interpreting  this  to  be  the  w{fe  of  Car> 
ausius,  mskes  a  new  personage  start  up  in  history :  ho 
contrives  even  to  give  some  theeretieal  Memaire  of  tho 
Augvei  Oriuna  ! 

In  the  Valeriana  we  find,  that  it  was  the  opinion  of 
Father  Sirmond,  that  St  Ursula  and  her  eleven  thousand 
Virgins  were  all  created  out  of  a  blunder.    In  some  an* 
cient  MS  thev  foumi   St   Ureula  et  UndechniUa  V.  M% 
meaning  St  Ursula  and  Undecimilla  wi^h  'he  V,  and  M 
which  (bllowed  was  sn  abreviaticn  fo'  Undeoem  MilSa 
Martyrum  Virginum,  made  out  of  7\im  Virgine  the  wbolo 
Elerrn  THoueeind ! 



Pope,  in  a  note  on  Meaaure  for  MeaiurOt  inromw  us, 
that  iti  itory  was  taken  from  Cinthto'e  Novels,  Dee.  S, 
Nov,  5.  That  is,  Decade  8,  Novd  5.  The  critical  War^ 
buitoOi  in  his  edition  ofShsJupeare  (as  the  author  of  Can- 
ons ofciiticismobserrds)  puts  the  words  in  full  'ength  thus, 
DeeenUter  8,  Novemhtro, 

Voltaire  has  given  in  his  Philosophical  IKctioiiary,  arti- 
cle jAinu  dee  MoU^  a  literary  anecdote  of  a  singular  na- 
ture ;  a  complete  qui  pro  quo:  When  the  fragments  of 
Petronius  made  a  great  noise  in  the  literary  world,  Mei- 
bomius,  an  enidit  of  Lubeck,  read  in  a  letter  from  another 
learned  scholar  of  Bologna,  *  We  have  here  on  entire 
Petroniue;  I  saw  it  with  mine  own  eyee,  and  with  admira^ 
tion.*  Meibomius  in  posi-haste  travels  to  Italy,  arrives 
at  BcHogna,  and  immediately  inquires  for  the  librarian 
Capponi.  He  asks  him  if  it  was  true  that  they  had  at 
Bologna  on  entire  Petnniui.  Capponi  assures  mm  that 
it  was  a  thing  which  had  long  been  public.  Can  I  see  this 
Petronius  ?  Have  the  kindness  to  let  me  examine  it.  Cer- 
tainly, replies  Capponi.  He  leads  our  erudit  of  Lubeck 
to  the  church  where  reposes  the  body  of  Saint  PHroniue, 
Meibomius  bites  his  Up,  calls  for  his  chaise,  and  takes  his 

A  French  translator,  when  he  came  f^  ""^^  ^ 

Swifi,  in  which  it  is  said  that  the  Duk«  •«  nai  .uorough 
broke  an  officer ;  not  beins  acquainted  with  this  Anglicism, 
he  translated  it  roui,  broke  on  a  wheel ! 

Gibber's  play  of  '  Love'e  last  Shift  *  was  entitled  *  La 
Demiere  Chemiee  de  P  Amour  J*  A  French  writer  of 
Coni^reve's  hfe  has  taken  bis  Mourning  for  a  jiforntng 
Bride,  and  translated  it  U  Eejtouu  du  Matin, 

Sir  John  Pringle  mentions  his  liaving  cured  a  soMier  by 
the  use  of  two  quarts  of  Dog  and  Duck  water  daily ;  a 
French  translator  specifies  iias  an  excellent  broth  made  of 
a  duck  and  a  doe !  In  a  recent  catalo|{ue  compiled  by  a 
French  writer  oflVorke  on  Natural  History ^  he  has  in- 
serted the  well-known  *  Essay  on  Tris/i  BulW  by  the 
Edgeworths.  The  proof,  if  it  required  any,  that  a  French- 
man cannot  understand  the  idiomatic  style  of  Shakspeare 
appears  in  a  French  translator,  who  prided  himself  on 
giving  a  verbal  translation  of  our  sreat  poet,  not  approving 
of  Le  Toumeur's  paraphrasticat  version.  He  found  in 
the  celebrated  speech  of  Northumberland  in  Henry  IV. 

Even  such  a  man,  so  faint,  so  spirltlbo., 
8o  dull,  so  dead  in  look,  so  wo-begono— 

which  he  renders  *^'nst,  douUur  !  va^enP 

A  remarkable  literary  blunder  has  been  recently  com- 
mitted by  the  Abb6  Gragoire  ;  who  affords  another  striking 
proof  of  the  errors  to  which  foreigners  are  liable  when  they 
decide  on  the  language  and  cuttoma  of  another  country. 
The  abb6,  in  the  excess  of  his  philanthropy,  to  show  to 
what  dishonourable  offices  human  nature  is  degraded, 
acquainU  us  that  at  London  he  observed  a  sign-board 
nroclaiming  the  master  as  tuer  deepunauee  de  aa  majeati! 
Bag-destroyer  to  his  majesty !  This  is  no  doubt  the 
honest  Mr  Tiffin,  in  the  Strand ;  and  the  idea  which 
must  have  occurred  to  the  good  abb^  was,  that  his  majes- 
ty's bugs  were  hunted  by  the  said  destroyer,  and  taken  by 
nuid— and  thus  human  nature  was  degraded ! 

A  French  writer  translates  the  Latin  title  of  a  treatise 
of  Philo-Judaeus,  Ornntt  bonus  Hber  estf  Every  good  man 
is  a  free  man,  by  Tout  Uvre  est  ban.  It  was  well  for  him, 
observes  Jortin,  that  he  did  not  live  within  the  reach  of 
the  Inquisition,  which  might  have  taken  this  as  a  reflec- 
tion on  the  Index  Eapurgatoriua. 

An  En];1ish  translator  turned  *  ENeu  difend  V  adultere,* 
Into  *  God  defends  adultery.'  Guthrie,  in  his  translation 
of  Du  Halde,  has  *  the  twenty-sixth  day  of  the  n«io  moon.' 
The  whole  age  of  the  moon  is  but  twenty-eight  days.  The 
blonder  arose  from  his  mistaking  the  word  n«iiv»ein«  (nine) 
for  nouvetle  or  neuve  (new.) 

The  facetious  Tom  Browne  committed  a  strange  blun- 
der in  his  translation  of  Qelli's  Circe.  When  he  came  to 
the  word  Stemt^  not  aware  of  its  signification,  he  boldly 
rendered  it  atareSf  probably  from  the  similitude  of  sound'; 
the  succeeding  translator  more  correctly  discovered  Stame 
to  be  red-legged  partridges  ! 

In  Charles  II's  reign  a  new  collect  was  drawn,  in  which 
a  new  epithet  was  added  to  the  kini^'s  title,  that  gave, 
sajrs  Burnet,  great  offence,  and  occasioned  great  raillery. 
He  was  styled  ow  most  religious  Jang.  Whatever  the 
signification  of  religunu  mi^ht  be  in  the  L/itin  word  as  im- 
portini;  the  sacredness  of  the  king's  person,  yet  in  the 
En^iah  language  it  bore  a  significati'>n  that  was  no  way 

applicable  to  the  king.  And  he  was  asked  by  his  fiunibar 
courtiers,  what  moat  the  nation  think  when  they  heard  him 
prayed  for  as  their  moat  religioua  king  7 — Literary  bltm- 
ders  of  this  nature  are  frequently  discovered  in  the  vertaona 
of  good  classical  scholars,  who  would  make  the  Engliah 
servilely  bend  to  the  Latin  and  Greek ;  however  its  geniua 
will  not  bear  the  yoke  their  unskilful  hands  put  on  Its  nedt. 
Milton  has  been  justly  censured  for  his  free  use  of  Latin- 
isms  and  Grecisms. 

The  blunders  of  modem  antiquaries  on  sepulchral  monu- 
ments are  numerous.  One  mistakes  a  Hm  at  a  knight's 
feet  (or  sl  water  curled  dog  i  another  could  not  distinguish 
eenaera  in  the  hands  of  angels  from.;is^tng^nsef ;  two  a^geU 
at  a  lady's  feet  were  counted  as  her  two  cheruMtko  6o6cSi 
and  another  has  mistaken  a  leopard  and  a  hedge-hog  for  a 
oat  and  a  rol  /  In  some  of  these  cases  are  the  anuquariea 
or  the  sculptors  most  to  be  blamed  7 

A  Uterary  blunder  of  Thomas  Wartoa  is  a  specimen  ol 
the  manner  in  which  a  man  of  genius  may  continue  to 
blunder  with  infinite  ingenuity,  in  an  old  romance  ha 
finds  these  lines,  describing  the  duel  of  Saladin  with  Rich* 
ard  CoBor  de  Lion : 

A  Fsucon  brode  in  hands  he  bare, 
For  ho  thought  he  wolde  there 
Have  slayne  Richard. 

He  imagines  this  Faueon  brode  means  a  falcon  6inl,  or 
a  hawk,  and  that  Saladin  is  represented  with  this  bird  on 
his  fist  to  express  his  contempt  of  his  adversary.  He  sup- 
ports his  conjecture  by  noticing  a  Gothic  picture,  supposed 
to  be  the  subject  of  this  duel,  and  also  some  old  tapestry 
of  heroes  on  horseback  with  hawks  on  their  fists ;  M 
plunges  into  feudal  times  where  no  gentleman  appeared  on 
horseback  without  his  hawk.  After  all  this  curious  erudi- 
tion, the  rougb  but  skilfiil  Ritson  inhumanly  triutnphed  by 
dissolving  the  magical  fancies  of  the  more  elegant  Wartoo, 
by  explaining,  a  JFVmcon  brode  to  be  nothing  more  than  ft 
broad  fauUhum^  which  was  certainly  more  useful  than  a 
bvrdf  in  a  duel. 

Bayle  supposes  that  Marcellus  Palinrenius,  who  wrole 
a  poem  entiled  the  Zodiac  ;  the  twelve  booki  bearing  Ilia 
names  of  the  signs ;  assumed,  from  this  circumstance,  th* 
tide  ciPoeta  Steliatua,  But  it  appears,  that  this  writer 
was  an  Italian  and  a  native  of  Stmada^  a  town  in  the  Far* 
rarese.  It  is  probable  that  his  birth-place  produced  iha 
conceit  of  the  title  of  his  poem :  it  is  a  curious  iastanea 
how  a  critical  conjecture  may  be  led  astray  by  lis  own  in- 
genuity, when  igruNrant  of  the  real  fad. 


Marriage  is  such  a  rabble  routt 
That  those  that  are  out  would  (Un  get  In ; 
And  those  thst  arc  in  would  fain  get  out. 


Having  exanuned  some  tUnanf  hhtndere,  we  will  bow 
proceed  to  the  subject  of  a  literary  «d/e,  which  nay  bap- 
pen  to  prove  one.  A  learned  ladv  is  to  the  taste  oi  few. 
It  is  however  matter  of  surprise,  that  several  literary  men 
should  have  felt  such  a  want  of  taste  in  respect  to  *  their 
soul's  far  dearer  part,'  as  Hector  calls  his  Androsadia. 
The  wives  of  many  men  of  letters  have  been  dissolute,  ilU 
humoured,  slatternly,  and  have  run  into  all  the  frivolitiea 
of  the  age.  The  wife  of  the  learned  Budseus  was  of  a 
different  character. 

How  delightful  ia  it  when  the  mind  of  the  femala  is  ao 
disposed,  and  so  richly  cultivated,  as  to  participat* 
iterary  avocations  of  net  husband !    It  is  ' 

in  the  literary  avocations  of  her  husband !  It  is  than  tndy 
that  the  intercourse  of  the  sexes  becomes  the  nsost  rtfinad 
pleasure.  What  dehght,  for  instance,  mtist  the  graat  Bu- 
deus  have  tasted,  even  in  those  works  which  must  bava 
been  for  others  a  most  dreadful  labour !  His  wifir  left  him 
nothing  to  desire.  The  frequent  oompamon  of  his  sliadta*, 
she  brought  bin  the  books  he  required  to  his  desk ;  she 
compared  passages,  and  transcribed  quotations ;  tha  saino 
genius,  the  same  inclinations,  and  the  sameardottr  lor  lite- 
rature, eminently  appeared  in  those  two  fortunate  naraoas. 
Far  from  withdrawmg  her  husband  from  hia  snidtes,  aha 
was  sedulous  to  animate  him  when  bo  langwsbed.  Bfer 
at  his  side  and  ever  assiduous ;  ever  with  some  vmM  hook 
in  her  hand,  she  acknowledged  herself  to  be  a  most  happy 
woman.  Yet  she  did  not  neglect  the  education  of  riercn 
chiMren.  She  and  Bodeus  shared  in  the  owttua]  cares 
they  owed  thetr  progeny.  Budanis  was  not  insensible  ol 
his  singular  felicity.  In  one  «if  his  letters,  he  repraeeAts 
himself  as  married  in  two  ladies  t  one  of  whom  gave  bim 




the  other  was  PbUott^hy,  who  produced 
-  -  _      ^    "V*  ^^'  ^  ^^  twelve  firai  years,  Fbilosphy 
had  bcett  leas  miilful  than  Marriage ;  he  had  produced  lesa 
ka  Uiaa  chiidren ;  be  bad  laboured  more  corporally  than 
rttcctnaUT ;  bui  be  hoped  to  make  more  oooks  than 
^-m.    'The  eoul  (ta^a  be)  wiU  be  productiTe  in  its 
il  «i&  r«e  oa  the  ruios  of  the  body ;  a  prolific  virtu'i 
I  firsB  at  the  samie  time  to  the  bodily  organs  and  the 

Tbe  ladjT  of  Bvelyn  designed  herseir  the  frontispiece  to 
maalataoD  of  Lucretius.  She  felt  the  same  passion  in 
hsr  own  breast  ae  animated  her  hiisbaod's,  who  has  written 
wflh  ioch  wiooa  ingenuity.  Of  Baron  Halier  it  is  re- 
cnsrfwl  tbat  be  inspired  bis  wife  and  family  with  a  taste 
for  bis  diffirent  pursuits.  They  were  usually  employed 
m  assuting  hia  hrerury  occupations;  they  transcribed 
n}jtf»  oonsvlted  authors,  gathered  plants  and  de- 
and  ooiuored  under  his  «ye.  What  a  delightful 
Cuiile  o&ctm  has  the  younger  Plin^  giren  posterity  m  his 
Mteri.  See  Melmoth'i  translaiiou,  Biok  iv,  xix.  Of 
CalpbonuA,  his  wife,  he  says,  *  Her  afTectiun  to  roe  has 
grr«a  b«r  a  turn  to  books ;  anidi  my  composition;),  which 
abe  taktm  %  pleasore  m  reading,  and  even  getting  by  heart, 
f  osQtinttaUv  in  her  handt. '  How  full  cm  tender  solici- 
*iidt  IS  she  wben  I  am  entering  upon  any  cause !  How 
kiadly  dote  she  rejoice  with  me  wben  it  is  over !  While 
I  ampUndinSi  vhe  places  persons  to  inform  her  from  time 
to  time  how  f  am  heard,  what  applauses  I  receive,  and 
what  swocesn  attends  the  cause.  When  at  any  time  I 
•ffcxte  niy  work«,abe  conceals  herself  behind  some  curtain, 
%m±  witb  ascfst  rapture  enjoys  my  praises.  She  sines 
ay  verse*  to  her  lyre,  with  no  other  master  but  love,  the 
ben:  i&Mnictar,  for  her  guide.  Her  passion  will  increase 
«.ah  our  days,  for  it  is  iiot  my  yuuih  nor  my  person, 
wludi  ttioe  gradu^y  impairs,  but  my  reputation  and  my 
gjjry,  of  which  she  is  enamoured.* 

Oa  the  subject  oTa  literary  wife,  I  must  introduce  to  the 
aeqaamtftoee  of  the  reader,  Margaret  duchess  of  New* 
eastia.  ^e  k  known  at  least  by  her  name,  as  a  volumin- 
oos  writer !  fof  she  extended  her  hterary  productions  to 
iIm  mmbcr  of  twelve  fiiiio  volumes. 

Her  labMra  have  been  ridiculed  bv  soma  wits ;  but  bad 
bar  scndiae  been  regulated  she  would  have  displayed  no 
wifiasry  genitts.  l^e  Omnoiaseiir  has  quoted  her  poems, 
^  ilM  I  Class  have  been  imitated  by  MUtoa. 
Tfte  duke,  ber  husband,  was  also  an  author ;  his  book 
stiH  preserves  hb  nam<i.  He  has  like- 
of  which  Lanj^baine,  in  his  ac« 
Qouai  of  ear  posts,  speaks  well ;  and  hts  contemporaries 
k  penorioaa  in  their  eulogiums.  It  is  true  he 
X  di]k«.  Sbadwell  says  of  him,  '  That  he  was  the 
of  wit,  the  most  exact  observer  of  man- 
bad,  aad  ilM  moat  aceurmte  judge  of  humour  that  ever  he 
The  lile  of  the  duke  is  written  (to  employ  the 
of  Langbaine^  '  by  the  hand  of  bis  inconnpanible 
'  It  was  published  in  his  hfetime.  This  curious 
of  bioffraphv  ia  a  folio  of  197  pages,  and  is  entitled 
His  Lilr  of  the  Tbnce  Noble.  Hisb,  and  Puissant  Prince, 
WdbaiM  Cavendtsb.*  His  tides  Uien  follow  :^*  Written 
W  ibe  Tbrice  Ncdite,  lOuatrious,  and  excellent  Princess, 
Siar^tfrC  Duisbeas  of  Newcastle,  his  Wife.  London 
1497.*  Thm  Life  i«  dedicated  to  Charles  the  Second; 
Mid  ibcre  m  also  prefixed  a  copious  epistle  to  her  husband 

la  tbia  epistle  the  character  of  our  Literary  Wife  is 
\wuh  nJl  if  pecolianties ;  and  no  apology  will  be 
ler   eatracuag  what   relates  to  our  noble  au» 
The  reader  vnll  be  amused  while  he  forma  a 
idea  of  a  literary  lady,  with  whose  name  he 

m0cs :  *  Certainly,  my  kKd,  you  have  had  as  many 

aal  aa  nMay  fneods  as  ever  any  one  particular  per- 

Imd  ;  oar  do  I  so  much  wonder  at  it,  smce  I,  a  woman, 

be  eaasnpt  from  the  malice  and  aspersions  of  spite* 

tMguee,  wbseb  ibey  cast  upon  my  poor  writings,  some 

to  be  the  true  authoress  of  ihem ;  for  your 

sell,  that  those  books  I  put  out  first  to 

of  ihia  OBiMorious  age  were  accounl^d  not  to 

by  a  woouAt  hat  tliat  somebody  else  bad  written 

ptiMkdird  them  m  mj  name ;  by  which  your  lordship 

laiiTed  to  prefix  as  epistle  before  one  or  them  in  my 

in.  whaff  jno  aaeare  the  world,  upon  your  hon- 

,  thai  what  waa  written  and  prmted  in  mv  name  was  my 

I ;  aad  I  t»v  aho  made  known  that  y<^r  lordship  was 

ml  f  ta*4ir  ia  dedariag  to  me  what  y  qu  had  found  atid 

obaerved  by  your  owa  experience;  for  I  being  young  wben 
your  lordship  married  me  could  not  have  much  knowledge 
of  the  world  ;  but  it  pleased  God  to  command  his  servant 
Nature  to  endue  me  with  a  poetical  and  philosophical 

Senilis,  even  from  my  birth ;  for  I  did  write  some  books  in 
liat  kind  before  I  was  twelve  years  of  age,  which,  for  want 
of  good  method  and  order  I  would  never  divulge.  But 
though  the  world  would  not  believe  that  thoae  conceptions 
and  fancies  which  I  writ  were  my  own,  but  transcended 
my  capacity,  yet  they  found  fault,  that  they  were  defective 
for  want  ofleaming ;  and  on  the  other  side,  tbey  said  I  had 
pluckt  feathers  out  of  the  universities,  which  was  a  very 
preposterous  iudgmeat.  Truly,  my  lord,  I  c<»fess  that 
tor  want  of  scholarship,  I  could  not  express  myself  so  well 
as  otherwise  I  might  have  done  in  those  philosophical  writ- 
ings I  published  first ;  but  after  I  was  returned  with  your 
lordship  into  my  native  country,  and  led  a  retired  country 
life,  I  applied  myself  to  the  reading  of  philosophical  authors, 
on  purpose  to  learn  those  names  and  wmrds  of  art  that 
are  used  in  schools ;  which  at  first  were  so  hard  to  me, 
that  I  could  not  understand  them,  but  was  fain  to  guess  at 
tlie  sense  of  I  hem  by  the  whole  context,  and  so  writ  tliem 
down  as  I  found  them  in  those  authors ;  at  which  my  read* 
era  did  wonder,  and  thought  it  impossible  that  a  woman 
could  have  so  much  learning  and  understanding  in  terms 
of  art  and  scbolastical  expressions ;  so  that  I  and  my  books 
are  like  the  old  a{>ologue  mentioned  in  iEsop,  of  a  fatlier 
and  his  son  who  rid  on  an  ass.'  Here  follows  a  long  nar- 
rative of  this  fable,  which  she  appliea  to  herself  in  these 
words—'  The  old  man  seeing  he  could  not  please  mankind 
in  any  manner,  and  having  received  so  many  blemishes 
and  aspersions  for  the  sake  of  his  aas,  was  at  fast  resolved 
to  drown  him  when  he  came  to  the  next  bridge.  But  I  am 
not  90  passionate  to  burn  my  writings  for  the  various  bu- 
mours  of  mankind,  and  for  their  finding  fault ;  aince  there 
is  nothing  in  this  world,  be  it  the  noblest  and  most  com- 
mendable action  whataoever,  that  shall  escape  blameless. 
As  for  my  being  the  true  and  only  authoreaa  of  them  ypur 
lordship  knows  hest ;  and  my  attending  servanta  are  wit- 
ness that  I  have  had  none  but  my  own  thoughts,  fancies, 
and  speculations,  to  assist  me ;  and  as  soon  as  I  set  them 
down  I  send  them  to  those  that  are  to  tranacribe  them,  and 
fit  them  for  the  press ;  whereof,  since  there  have  been  sev- 
eral, and  amongst  them  such  as  only  could  write  a  good 
hand,  but  neither  understood  orthography,  nor  had  any 
learning  (I  being  then  in  banishment,  witn  your  lordship, 
and  not  able  to  maintain  learned  secretariea)  which  hatl- 
been  u  great  disadvantage  to  my  poor  works,  and  the  caoae 
that  they  have  been  printed  so  falao  and  ao  full  of  errors ; 
for  besides  thai  I  want  also  skill  in  scholarship  and  true 
writing,  I  did  many  times  not  peruse  the  copies  that  were 
transcribed,  lest  they  should  disturb  my  following  concep- 
tions ;  by  which  neglect,  as  I  said,  many  errors  are  slipt 
into  my  works,  which  yet  I  hope  learned  and  impartial 
rea  iers  will  soon  rectify,  and  look  more  upon  the  aenae  than 
carp  on  words.  I  have  been  a  student  even  from  my 
childhood  ;  and  since  I  have  been  your  lordshio's  wife  i 
have  lived  for  the  most  part  a  atrict  and  retired  life,  as  is 
best  known  to  your  lordship ;  and  therefore  my  oensurers 
cannot  know  much  of  me,  since  tbey  have  little  or  no  ao> 
qoaintance  with  me.  *Tis  true  I  have  been  a  traveller 
both  before  and  afler  I  was  married  to  your  lordship,  aad 
sometimes  show  myself  at  your  lordship's  command   in 

fublic  places  or  assemblies,  out  yet  I  converse  vrith  few. 
ndeed,  my  lord,  I  matter  not  the  censures  of  this  age,  but 
am  rather  proud  of  them;  for  il  shows  that  my  actiona  are 
more  than  ordinary »  and,  according  to  the  old  proverb.  It 
is  better  to  be  envied  than  pitied ;  for  I  know  well  that  it 
is  merely  out  of  spite  and  malice,  whereof  this  present  age 
is  so  full  that  none  can  escape  them,  and  they  ^11  make  no 
doubt  to  stain  even  your  lordship's  loyal,  noble,  and  heroic 
actions,  as  well  as  tney  do  mine ;  tbcMieh  yours  have  been 
of  war  and  fighting,  mine  of  contemplatrng  and  writing : 
yours  were  perfoniMd  publicly  in  the  field,  mine  private!} 
m  my  closet ;  your*s  nad  many  thousand  eye-witnesses, 
mine  none  but  my  waiting  maids.  But  the  great  God, 
that  hitherto  blessM  both  your  grace  and  me,  will,  I  ques- 
tion iiol,  preserve  both  our  fames  to  after>ages. 
Tour  grace's  honest  wife, 

and  humble  servant, 


The  last  portion  of  this  life,  which  consists  of  the  obser- 
vations and  good  things  which  she  had  gathered  from  the 
conversations  of  her  husband,  forms  an  excellent  Ana;  and 
*howi  that  when  Lord  Orford,  in  hi^  '  CaJtlojuc  of  Noblt 



Authors,'  sBy'f  that  *  this  stately  poetic  couple  was  a  pic- 
ture of  fooliin  nobility,*  he  writes,  as  he  does  too  often, 
with  extreme  levity.  But  we  must  now  attend  to  the  re* 
▼erse  of  our  medal. 

Many  chafrins  may  corrode  the  nuptial  state  of  literary 
men.  Femues  who,  prompted  by  vanity,  but  not  by  taste, 
unite  themselves  to  scholars,  must  ever  complain  of  ne- 
glect. The  inexhaustible  occupations  of  a  library  will 
only  present  to  such  a  most  areair  solitude.  Such  a 
ladr  oeclared  of  her  learned  husbami,  that  she  was  more 
jealous  of  his  books  than  his  mistresses.  It  was  probable 
while  Glover  was  composing  his  *  Leonidas,'  that  his  lady 
avenced  herself  for  his  SLomerie  inattention  to  her,  and 
took  her  flight  with  a  lover.  It  was  peculiar  to  the  learned 
Dacier  to  be  united  to  a  woman,  his  equal  in  erudition  and 
bis  superior  in  taste.  When  she  wrote  in  the  album  of 
a  German  traveller  a  verse  from  Sophocles  as  an  apology 
for  her  unwillingness  to  place  herself  among  his  learned 
friends,  that  *  Silence  b  Uie  female's  ornament,'  it  was  a 
remarkable  trait  of  her  modesty.  The  learned  Pasquier 
was  coupled  to  a  female  of  a  different  character,  since  he 
tells  us  in  his  Epigrams  that  to  manase  the  vociferations  of 
his  lady,  he  was  compelled  himself  to  oecome  a  vucifcrator. 
—*  Unfortunate  wretch  that  I  am,  I  who  am  a  lover  of  uni« 
versal  peace  \  But  to  have  peace  I  am  obliged  ever  to  bo 
at  war.' 

Sir  Thomas  More  was  united  to  a  woman  of  the  harsh- 
est temper  and  the  most  sordid  manners.  To  soften  the 
moroseness  of  her  disposition,  '  he  persuaded  her  to  play 
on  the  lute,  viol,  and  otner  instruments,  every  day.'  Whe- 
ther it  was  that  she  had  no  ear  for  music,  she  herself  never 
became  harmonious  as  the  instrument  she  touched.  All 
these  ladies  may  bo  considered  as  rather  too  alert  in 
thought,  and  too  spirited  in  action ;  but  a  tame  cuckoo  bird 
who  is  always  re|)eating  the  same  tone,  must  be  very  fa- 
tiffuinff.  The  laoy  of  Samuel  Clarke,  the  great  compiler 
of  books  in  1680,  whoso  name  was  anngrammatised  to 
*  CMcXc  aU  crtam^  alluding  to  his  indefatigable  labours  in 
sucking  all  the  cream  of  every  other  author  without  hav- 
ing any  cream  himself,  is  described  by  her  husband  as  hav- 
ing the  most  sublime  conceptions  of  his  illustrious  compila- 
tions. This  appears  by  her  behaviour.  He  says,  *  that 
bbe  never  rose  from  table  without  making  him  a  courtesy, 
nor  drank  to  him  without  bowing,  and  that  his  word  was  a 
law  to  her.* 

I  was  much  surprised  in  lotting  over  a  correspondence 
of  the  times,  that  in  1690  the  Bishop  of  Lichfield  and  Co- 
ventry writing  lo  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury  on  the  subject 
of  his  livinv  separate  from  his  countess,  uses  as  one  ot  his 
arguments  for  their  union  the  following  curious  one,  which 
surely  shows  the  gross  and  cynicial  feeling  which  the  fair 
sex  excited  even  among  the  higher  clasies  of  society. 
The  language  of  this  good  bishop  is  neither  that  of  trutn, 
we  hope,  nor  certainly  that  of  religion. 

*  But  some  will  say  in  your  L.ordiehip*s  behalfe  ihat  the 
Couiitesse  is  a  sharp  and  bitter  shrewe,  and  therefore 
lieke  enough  to  shorten  your  lief,  if  shee  should  kepe  yow 
company.  Indeede,  my  good  Lord,  I  have  heard  some  say 
so :  but  if  shrewdnesse  or  sharpnesse  may  be  a  juste  cause  of 
separation  between  a  man  and  wiefe,  I  thinck  fewe  men 
in  Englande  would  keepe  their  wives  longe ;  for  it  is  a  com- 
mon jeste,  yet  trewe  in  some  sense,  that  there  is  but  one 
shrewe  in  all  the  woride,  and  everee  roan  hath  her  t  and 
so  everee  man  must  be  ridd  of  his  wiefe  tliat  wolde  be  ridd 
of  a  shrewe.'  It  is  wonderful  this  good  bishop  did  not  use 
■Bother  argument  as  cogent,  and  which  would  in  those 
times  be  allowed  as  something ;  the  name  of  his  lordship 
Shrtwabwryf  would  have  afforded  a  consolatory  jpttn ! 

The  entertaining  Marville  says  that  the  generality  of 
ladies  married  to  literary  men  are  so  vain  of  the  abilities 
and  merit  of  their  husbands,  that  they  are  frequently  un- 

The  wiie  of  Barclay,  author  of  *  The  AreeniM,*  consid- 
ered herself  as  the  wife  of  a  demigod.  This  appeared 
glaringly  aHer  his  death  :  for  Cardinal  Barberini  having 
rrected  a  monument  to  the  memory  of  his  tu?or,  next  to 
the  tomb  of  Barclay,  Mrs.  Barclay  was  so  irritated  at 
this  that  she  demolished  his  monument,  brought  home  his 
bust,  and  declared  that  the  ashes  of  so  great  a  genius  as 
her  husband  shouki  never  be  placed  beside  so  villanous  a 

Salmasius's  wifii  was  a  lurmagani ;  and  Christina  said 
•he  admired  his  patience  more  than  his  erudition,  married 
to  such  a  shrew.  Mrs.  Salroasius  indeed  considered  her- 
snlf  as  the  queen  of  science,  because  her  husbdnd  was 

acknowledged  as  sovereign  among  the  critics.  She  boast- 
ed she  had  for  her  husband  tbe  moat  learned  of  all  the  no* 
bles,  and  the  most  iioblo  of  all  the  learned.  Our  good 
lady  always  joined  the  learned  conferences  which  he  held 
in  his  study.  She  spoke  bud,  and  decided  with  a  tone  of 
majesty.  Salmasius  was  mild  in  conversation,  bat  the  re- 
verse in  his  writings,  for  our  proud  Xantippe  considered 
him  as  acting  beneath  himself  if  he  did  sot  majeaterially 
call  every  one  names ! 

Tbe  wife  of  Robault,  when  her  husband  gave  lectures 
on  the  philosophy  of  Descartes,  used  to  seat  herself  on 
these  days  at  the  door,  and  refused  admittance  to  every 
one  shabbily  dressed,  or  who  did  not  discover  a  gentee 
air.  So  convinced  was  she  that,  to  be  worthy  of  hearii\g 
the  lectures  of  her  husband,  it  was  proper  to  appsar  fash- 
ionable. In  vain  our  rooo  lecturer  exhausted  ntmself  in 
telling  her  that  fortune  does  not  always  pve  fine  clothes  lo 

The  ladies  of  Albert  Durer  and  Berghen  wfre  both 
shrews.  The  wife  of  Durer  compelled  that  great  genius 
to  do  the  hourly  drudgery  of  his  professiou,  merely  to 
gratify  her  own  sordid  passion:  in  despair,  Albert  ran 
away  from  hia  Tisriphone ;  she  wheedled  him  back,  and 
not  long  afterwards  this  great  artist  fell  a  victim  to  her  fii- 
I  disposition.    Berghero'a  wife  would  never  allow  that 


excellent  artist  to  quit  his  occupations :  and  she  eiMBtrived 
an  odd  expedient  to  detect  his  indolence.  Tbe  artist 
worked  in  a  room  above  her ;  ever  and  anon  she  roused 
him  by  thumping  a  long  stick  against  the  ceiling,  while  the 
obedient  Berghem  answered  by  stamping  his  foot,  to  aattsly 
Mrs  Berghem  that  he  was  not  napping 

^lian  bad  an  aversion  to  the  marriage  stale.  Sigouiux, 
a  learried  and  well  known  scholar,  would  never  marnr,  and 
alleged  no  inelegant  reason ;  that  *  Minerva  and  Venua 
could  not  live  together.' 

Matrimony  has  been  considered  by  some  writers  as  « 
condition  not  so  well  suited  to  the  circumstances  of  phi- 
losophers and  men  of  learning.  There  is  a  little  tract 
which  professes  to  investigate  the  subject,  tt  has  fur  title, 
De  Mairimonio  UieraUt  an  oaUbem  eisf ,  an  vtro  mbert 
amvrniatj  i.  e.  of  the  Marriage  of  a  Man  of  Letters,  with 
an  inquiry  whether  it  u  most  proper  for  him  to  coutioue  a 
Bachelor,  or  to  marry. 

*  The  author  alleges  the  great  merit  of  tome  women ; 
particularly  that  of  Gonsaga  the  consort  of  Montcfettro, 
duke  of  Urbino ;  a  lady  of^such  distinguished  aocompRsb* 
ments,  that  Peter  Benibus  said,  none  but  a  trtupiH  man 
would  not  prefer  one  of  her  conversations  to  all  the  formal 
meetings  and  disputations  of  the  philosophers. 

*  The  kidies  perhaps  will  be  surprised  to  find  that  it  b  a 
question  amoog  the  learned,  tVheihtrthty  ought  lo  manyf 
and  will  think  it  an  unaccountable  property  of  learn'mg  thai 
it  should  lay  the  professors  of  it  under  an  obligation  In 
disregard  the  sex.  But  whatever  opinion  these  gentlemen 
may  nave  of  that  amiable  part  of  tJie  species,  It  is  vtn 
questionable  whether,  in  return  for  this  want  «if  compla^ 
saoce  in  them,  the  generality  of  ladies  wouks  not  prdor 
the  beau  and  tlie  roan  of  fashion  to  the  man  of  sesise  and 
learning.  However,  if  the  latter  be  considered  as  valuabto 
in  the  eyes  of  any  of  them,  let  there  be  Gonug aa,  and  I 
dare  pronounce  toat  this  question  will  be  soon  oetemioed 
in  their favamr find  they  will  find  converts  enough  to  their 

The  sentiments  t^  Sir  Hiomaa  Browne,  on  the  cmwo- 
quences  of  marriage,  are  very  curious,  in  the  seood  paii  «• 
his  Religio  Media,  Sect  9.  When  be  wrote  thai  work,  ho 
said  *  I  was  never  yet  once,  and  commend  their  refnl»- 
tions,  who  never  marry  twice.'  He  calls  woman  *  the  rib, 
and  crooked  piece  of  man.'  He  adds, '  1  could  be  eonteni 
that  we  might  procreate  like  treos,  without  ooojunelion,  or 
Ihat  there  were  any  way  to  procreate  the  world  wHhottt 
this  trivial  and  vulgar  way.*  He  means  tbe  union  of  s«xc«, 
which  he  declares  *  is  the  foolisheat  act  m  wiae  man  earn* 
mits  in  all  his  liie,  nor  is  there  any  thing  that  wiU  more 
deject  his  cooled  imagination,  when  he  shall  oooskler  whal 
an  odd  and  unworthy  piece  of  folly  ho  hath  coaanitlod/ 
He  afterwards  declares  he  is  not  averse  to  that  aweet  am. 
but  naturally  amorous  of  all  that  is  beautiful ;  *  I  enow 
look  a  whole  day  with  deligbt  opoo  a  handaomo  pieiiira, 
though  it  be  but  of  a  horse.  He  oftanratds  diaserts  ntry 
profoundly  on  the  music  there  is  in  beauty.  *  and  the  ai» 
lent  note  which  Cupid  strikes  is  far  sweeter  Inan  iha  aound 
of  an  instnnnent.'  Such  were  hta  asntmionls  when  yonulK 
ful,  and  residing  at  Leyden :  Dutch  phUo^ophy  had  at  first 
chilled  his  passion ;  it'is  probable  that  passion  aflerwanis 



nfUmed  his  phitoMphy— for  he  married  and  had  four 
iaugbten ! 

Or  Coocbi,  a  modem  Italian  writer,  but  apparentl)r  a 
eynie  as  old  as  Diogenea,  hat  taken  the  paina  orcompoemg 
a  treatise  on  the  present  sobjectr— enough  to  terrify  the 
hoitJesl  SadmUr  of  Arts!  he  has  conjured  up  every  chip 
mera  against  the  marriage  of  a  literary  man.  He  seems 
however  to  have  drawn  his  disgusting  (KKtrait  from  his  own 
country ;  and  the  chaste  beauty  of  Britain  only  looks  the 
mere  lovely  beside  this  Florenime  wife. 

I  shall  not  retain  the  cynicism  which  has  ooloured  such 
revolting  features.    When  at  length  the  doctor  finds  a 
womaa  as  all  women  ought  to  be.  he  opens  a  new  spring 
of  miskbrtunes  which  must  attend  her  husband.  He  dreads 
one  of  the  probable  consequences  of  matrimony «— proge- 
ny, in  which  we  must  maintain  the  children  we  beget ! 
He  thinks  the  &ther  gains  nothing  in  hb  old  age  from  the 
tender  ottces  administered  by  his  own  children:. he  as- 
serts these  are  much  better  perfwmed  bv  menials  and 
strangers !    The  more  children  he  has,  the  less  he  can 
aSbidtohave  servaotst  The  maintenance  of  his  children 
will  greatly  diminish  his  properly  !    Another  alarming  ob- 
ject in  marriage  is  that,  by  affinity,  you  become  connected 
with  the  relations  of  the  wife.    The  envious  and  ill-bred 
insinuations  of  the  mother,  the  family  quarrels,  their  po- 
verty or  their  pride,  all  disturb  the  unhappy  sage,  who 
&lls  into  the  trap  of  connubial  felicity!  But  if  a  sa^e 
has  rMolved  to  marry,  he  impresses  on  him  the  prudential 
principle  of  increasing  his  fortune  by  it,and  to  remember 
his '  additional  expenses  !*  Dr  Cocchi  seems  to  have  thought 
that  a  human  being  is  only  to  live  for  himself;  he  had  nei- 
ther a  heart  to  feel,  a  head  to  conceive,  nor  a  pen  that 
couM  have  written  one  harmonious  period,  or  one  beautiful 
nnage !  Bayle,  in  his  article  RaphelengnUt  note  B,  gives 
a  singular  specimen  of  logical  suMilt}r,  in  *  a  reflection  on 
the  consequences  of  marriage.*    This  learned  man  was 
.imagined  to  have  died  of  grief  for  having  lost  his  wife,  and 
passed  three  years  in  protracted  despair.  What  therefore 
must  we  thinaof  an  unhappy  marriage,  since  a  happy  one 
is  exposed  to  such  evils  7    He  then  shows  that  an  unhappy 
marnage  is  attended  by  beneficial  consequences  to  the 
survivor.    In  this  dilemma,  in  the  one  case,  the  husband 
lives  afraid  his  wife  will  die,  in  the  other  that  she  will  not !  If 
you  love  her,  you  will  always  be  afraid  of  losing  her ;  if 
you  do  not  love  her,  you  will  always  be  afraid  of  not  losing 
her.    Our  satirical  CtUbaUan  is  gored  by  the  horns  of  the 
dilemma  he  has  conjured  up.  ^     ^  ,       ^ 

James  Petiver,  a  famous  botanist,  then  a  bachelor,  the 
tnend  of  Sir  Hans  Sloans,  in  an  album  which  I  have  seen, 
signs  his  name,  with  this  designation :      ^  ,      ^      ^^ 
« From  the  Goat  tavern  in  the  Strand,  London,  Nov. 
17.    In  the  S4th  year  of  mjfrtdom.  A.  D.  1697.' 


Some  anthors  excelled  in  this  species  of  literary  arti- 
fice The  Italian  Doni  dedicated  each  of  his  letters,  in  a 
hook  called  La  Utrairiaf  to  persons  whose  names  began 
with  the  first  letter  of  the  epUtle ;  and  dedicated  the  whole 
eolleetion  in  another  epistle ;  so  that  the  book,  which  only 
GonsUted  of  forty-five  pages,  was  dedicated  to  above 
rwenty  persons.  This  is  cairywg  hterary  mendicity 
pretty  hifh.  Politi,  the  editor  of  the  Martyrologmm  Ro- 
I  DuUished  at  Rome  in  1761,  has  unproved  on  the 

ideaof'l5oni;  (br  to  the  S65  days  of  the  year  of  this  Mar- 
lyroloey  he  has  prefixed  to  each  an  epistle  dedicatory.  It 
is  fortunate  to  have  a  large  circle  of  acquaintance,  thoush 
not  worthy  of  being  saints.  Galland,  the  translator  of  the 
Arabian  "Nighta,  prefixed  a  dedication  to  each  tale  which 
be  gave ;  had  he  finished  the  « one  thoussnd  and  one,  he 
would  have  surpassed  even  the  Martyrolo«ist. 

Mademoiselle  Scudery  tells  a  remsrkable  expedient  of 
n  insenious  trader  in  this  line— One  Rangouze  made  a 
coUeiSion  of  Letters,  which  he  printed  without  numbering 
them.  By  this  means  the  book-binder  put  that  letter  which 
the  author  ordered  him  first;  so  that  all  the  persons  to 
whom  he  presented  this  book,  seeing  their  names  at  the 
head,  considered  themselves  under  a  particular  obhgaUon. 
There  was  likewise  an  Italmn  physician,  who  having 
wrote  on  Hippocrates'  Aphorisms,  dedicated  each  book 
of  his  Commentaries  to  one  of  his  friends,  and  the  index 

to  another !  •        •        j  j*      •        * 

More  than  one  of  our  own  authors  have  dedicaiionj  in 
the  same  spirit.  It  was  an  expedient  to  procure  dedica- 
tory  fees;  Tor  publishing  books  by  s'lburnntio'i  was  an 
art  then  undiscovered.    One  prefixed  a  ddft-rent  dedica- 

tion to  a  certain  number  of  printed  copies,  and  addresssd 
them  to  every  great  man  he  knew,  who  he  thou^t  relish* 
ed  a  morsel  of  flattery,  and  would  pay  handsomeW  for  a 
coarse  loxuir.  Sir  Balthazar  Gerlner,  in  this  *  Couiiset 
to  Builders,^bas  made  up  half  the  work  with  forty-two 
Dedications,  which  he  excuses  by  the  example  of  Antonio 
Perez  ;  yet  in  these  dedications  he  scatters  a  heap  of  cu- 
rious things,  tac  he  was  a  ^^rs  universal  senius.  Peres, 
once  secretary  of  state  to  Philip  II  of  Spain,  dedicates 
his  <  Obras,'  first  to  <  Nuestro  sanctissimo  Padre',  and 
*  Al  Sacro  Collegb,'  then  follows  one  to  *  Hennr  IV, 
and  then  one  still  more  embracing,  *  A  Todos.'  Fuller, 
in  his  *  Church  History,'  has  with  admirable  contrivance 
introduced  twelve  title-pages,  besides  the  general  one,  and 
as  many  particular  dedications,  and  no  less  than  fifty  or 
sixty  of  those  by  inscriptions  and  which  are  addressed  to 
his  benefactors ;  a  circumstance  which  Heylin  in  his  seve- 
rity did  not  overlook:  for  'making  bis  work  bigger  by 
forty  sheeta  at  the  least ;  and  he  was  so  ambitious  of  the 
number  of  his  patrons  that  having  but  four  leaves  at  the 
end  of  his  History,  he  discovers  a  particular  benefactress 
to  inscribe  them  to !'  This  unlucky  lady,  (he  patroness  ol 
four  leaves,  HeyUn  compares  to  Rosaus  Regius,  who 
accepted  the  consular  oignity  for  that  part  of^Uie  day  on 
which  Cecina  by  a  decree  of  the  senate  was  degraded 
from  it,  which  occasioned  Reguliis  to  be  ridiculed  oy  the 
people  all  his  life  afler,  as  the  consul  of  half  a  day. 

The  price  for  the  dedication  of  a  play  was  at  length 
fixed,  from  five  to  ten  guineas  from  the  Revolution  to  tn« 
time  of  Gtoorge  I,  when  it  rose  to  twenty,  but  sometimes 
a  bargain  was  to  be  struck  when  the  auuior  and  the  play 
were  alike  indifierent.  Sometimes  the  party  haggled 
about  the  price,  or  the  statue  while  stepping  into  his  niche 
could  turn  round  on  the  author  to  asnst  his  invention.  A 
patron  of  Peter  Motteux  dissatisfied  with  Peter's  coldei 
temperament,  actually  composed  the  superlative  dedica* 
tion  to  himself,  and  completed  the  nusery  of  the  apparent 
author  by  subscribing  it  with  his  name.  This  circtunsianoc 
was  so  notorious  at  the  time,  that  it  occasioned  a  satirical 
dialogue  between  Motteux  and  bis  patron  Heveningham. 
The  patron,  in  his  zesl  to  omit  no  possible  distinction  thai 
might  attach  to  him,  had  given  one  circumstance  which 
no  one  but  himself  could  have  known. 


I  must  confess  I  was  to  blame 

That  one  particular  to  name ; 

The  rest  could  never  have  been  known, 

1  made  the  style  so  like  thy  own. 


I  t>eg  your  pardon  ^  for  that 

Why  d e  what  would  you  be  at  ? 

I  wnt  below  myself  you  sol  I 

Avoiding  flsuree.  tropes,  what  not , 

For  fear  I  shoula  my  &ncy  raise 

Above  the  level  of  thy  {days ! 
Warton  notices  the  common  practice,  about  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth,  of  our  authors  dedicating  a  work  at  once  to 
a  number  of  the  nobility.  Chapman's  Translation  of 
Homer  has  sixteen  sonnets  addressed  to  lords  and  ladies. 
Henry  Lock,  in  a  collection  of  two  hundred  religious 
sonneta,  mingles  with  such  heavenly  works  the  terrestrial 
composition  of  a  number  of  soimeta  to  his  noble  patrons, 
and  not  to  multiply  more  instances,  our  great  poet  Spenser, 
in  compliance  with  this  disgracmil  custom,  or  rather  ia 
obedience  to  the  established  tyranny  of  patronage,  has 
prefixed  to  the  Fairy  Queen  fifleen  of  tnese  aJulatonf 
pieces,  which,  in  every  respect,  are  the  meanest  of  wm 
compositions.  At  this  period  all  men,  as  well  as  writsn« 
looked  up  to  peers,  as  on  beings  on  whose  smiles  or  frowM 
all  sublunary  good  and  evil  depended.  At  a  much  later 
period,  F.lkanah  Settle  sent  copies  round  to  the  chief 
party,  for  he  wrote  for  both  parlies,  accompanied  by  ad- 
dresses, to  extort  pecuniary  presents  in  return.  He  had 
latterly  one  standard  Elegy^  and  one  EjnthahnoMm, 
printed  oflT  with  blanks,  which  by  ingenuously  filling  up 
with  tho  printed  names  of  any  great  person  who  died  or 
was  married,  no  one  who  was  going  out  of  life  or  was  en- 
tering into  it,  could  pass  scot  free. 

One  of  the  most  singular  anecdotes  respecting  De«lira- 
tions  in  English  bibiiogrsphy,  is  that  of  tho  Polyglot  bibln 
of  Dr  Cas'fll.  Cromwell,  much  to  hi-*  honour,  patronised 
that  greet  labour,  and  allowed  the  paper  to  be  imported 
free  of  all  duties,  both  of  ex'*i«e  nnd  custom.     It  was  pub* 




lished  under  the  protectorate,  but  many  copies  had  not 
been  disposed  of  ere  Charles  II  ascendeo  the  throne.  Dr 
Castell  nad  dedicated  the  work  gratefully  to  Oliver,  by 
mentioning  him  with  peculiar  respect  in  the  preface,  but 
he  wavered  with  Richard  Cromwell.  At  the  restoration, 
he  cancelled  the  *wo  last  leaves,  and  supplied  their  places 
with  three  others,  which  softened  down  the  repuolican 
strains,  and  blotted  Oliver's  name  out  of  the  book  of  life ! 
The  differences  in  what  are  now  called  the  rambliean  and 
the  hyid  copies  have  amused  the  curious  collectors ;  and 
the  former  being  very  scarce  are  most  sought  after.  I  have 
seen  the  republican.  In  the  loyal  copies  the  patrons  of 
the  work  are  mentioned,  but  their  titUi  are  essentially 
changed;  JSerenitnmut,  lUuHrimmuif  and  HonoraUian" 
muit  were  epithets  that  dared  not  show  themselves  under 
the  levdling  influence  of  the  great  fanatic  republican. 

It  is  a  curious  literary  folly,  not  of  an  individual,  but  of 
the  Spanish  nation,  who,  when  the  laws  of  Castile  were 
reduced  into  a  code  under  the  reign  of  Alfonso  X,  sur- 
named  the  Wise,  divided  the  work  mto  aeuen  voiumet ;  that 
they  might  be  dedicated  to  the  seven  Uttera  which  formed 
the  name  of  his  majesty ! 

Never  was  a  gigantic  baby  of  adulation  so  crammed 
with  the  sod  pap  of  DedicattonM  as  Cardinal  Richelieu. 
FrencH  flattery  even  exceeded  itself. — Amon^  the  vast 
number  of  very  extraordinary  dedications  to  this  man,  in 
which  tlie  divinity  itself  is  disrobed  of  its  attributes  to  be- 
stow them  on  this  miserable  creature  of  vanity,  I  suspect 
that  even  the  following  one  is  not  the  mostblaspherooiu  he 
received.  *  Who  has  seen  your  face  without  being  seized 
by  those  softened  terrors  which  made  the  prophets  shud- 
der when  God  showed  the  beams  of  his  glory  ?  But  as  he 
whom  they  dared  not  to  approach  in  the  burning  bush,  and 
in  the  noise  of  thunders,  appeared  to  them  sometimes  in 
Che  freshness  of  die  zephyrs,  so  the  softness  of  your  august 
Countenance  dissipates  at  the  same  time,  and  cnanges  into 
dew,  the  small  vapours  which  cover  its  majesty.'  One  of 
these  herd  of  dedicators^  after  the  death  of  Kicnelieu,  sup- 
pressed in  a  second  edition  his  hyperbolical  panesyrtc,  and 
ts  a  punishment  he  inflicted  on  himself,  dedicated  the  work 
to  JesuB  Christ ! 

The  same  taste  characterises  our  own  dedications  in  the 
reigns  of  Charles  II  and  James  II.  The  great  Dryden 
has  carried  it  to  an  excessive  height ;  and  nothing  is  more 
usual  than  to  compare  the  patnm  with  the  Divinity — and 
at  times  a  fair  inference  may  be  drawn  that  the  former  was 
more  in  the  author*s  mind  than  Qod  himself!  A  Welsh 
bishop  made  an  apclagy  to  James  I,  for  preening  the 
Deity— -to  his  Majesty !  Burke  has  admirably  observed 
on  Dryden's  extravagant  dedications,  that  they  were  the 
vices  of  the  time  more  than  of  the  man ;  they  were  loaded 
with  flattery,  and  no  disgrace  was  annexed  to  such  an  ex- 
ercise of  men's  talents ;  the  contest  being  who  should  go 
farthest  in  the  most  graceful  way,  and  with  the  best  turns 
of  expression* 

An  ingenious  dedication  was  contrived  by  Sir  Simon 
Degge,  who  dedicated  '  the  Parson's  Counsellor*  to 
Woods,  Bishop  of  Lichfield,  with  this  intention.  Degge 
liighly  complimented  the  Bishop  on  having  most  nobly  re- 
fttored  the  church,  which  hacl  been  demolished  in  the  civil 
wars,  and  was  rebuilt  but  left  unfinished  by  Bishra  Hacket. 
At  the  time  he  wrote  the  dedication,  Woods  haa  not  turn- 
ed a  single  stone,  and  it  is  said,  that  much  against  his  will 
he  did  something  from  having  been  so  pubkcly  reminded 
of  it  by  this  ironical  dedication. 


The  botanic  garden  once  appeared  to  open  a  new  route 
through  the  trodden  groves  of  Parnassus.  The  poet, 
with  a  prodigality  of  imagination,  united  all  the  minute  ac- 
curacy of  Science.  It  is  a  highly  repolished  labour,  and 
was  in  the  mind  and  in  the  hand  of  its  author  for  twenty 
years  before  its  first  publication.  The  excessive  polish  of 
the  verse  has  appeared  too  high  to  be  endured  throughout 
a  long  composition ;  it  is  certain  that,  in  poems  of  length, 
a  versification,  which  is  not  too  florid  for  lyrical  composi- 
tion, will  weary  by  its  brilliaDcy.  Darwin,  inasmuch  as  a 
rich  philosophical  fancy  constitutes  a  poet,  possesses  the 
entire  art  of  poetry ;  no  one  has  carried  the  curious  me- 
chanism of  verse  and  the  artificial  magic  of  poetical  dio 
tioD  to  higher  perfection.  His  volcanic  head  flamed  with 
imagination,  but  his  torpid  heart  slept  unawakened  by  pas- 
sion. His  standard  of  poetry  is  by  much  too  limited ;  he 
Boppoees  that  the  essence  of  poetry  is  something  of  which 

a  painter  can  make  a  picture.  A  picturecque  vena 
with  him  a  verse  completely  poetical.  But  the  langua^ 
of  the  passions  has  no  connexion  with  this  principle :  ui 
truth,  what  he  delineates  aa  poetry  itaelf,  is  but  one  or  in 

provinces.    Deceived  by  his  illusive  standard,  he  haa 
posed  a  poem  which  is  perpetually  fancy,  and  never  oaa* 
I.    Hence  his  processional  splendour  fatigues,  and  turn 


descriptive  ingenuity  comes  at  length  to  be  deficient  in 
novelty,  and  all  the  miracles  of  art  cannot  supply  ua  wiiii 
one  touch  of  nature. 

Descriptive  poetry  should  be  relieved  by  a  skilful  intcfw 
mixture  of  passages  addressed  to  the  heart  as  well  as  to 
the  imagination:  uniform  description  satiates;  and  haa 
been  considered  as  one  of  the  inferior  branchea  of  poetij. 
Of  this  both  Thomson  and  Goldsmith  were  aeosibte.  In 
their  beautiful  descriptive  poems  theiy  knew  the  art  of  aoiU 
mating  the  pictures  of  Fancy  with  the  glow  of  Sentiment. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  originality  of  tliia 
poem,  it  has  been  preceded  by  others  of  a  congenial  dt»- 
position.  Brookes'  poem  on  *  Universal  Beauty,'  publiabed 
about  1735,  presents  us  with  the  very  model  cf  Darwia'a 
versification ;  and  the  Latin  poem  of  I)e  la  Croix,  in  I717| 
intitled  *  Connubia  Flarum}  with  his  subject.  Ther^ 
also  exists  a  race  of  poems  which  have  hitherto  been  con* 
fined  to  one  object^  which  the  poet  selected  from  iho  worim 
of  nature,  to  embellish  with  all  the  splendour  of  poetic 
imagination.    I  have  collected  some  titles. 

Perhaps  it  is  Homer,  in  his  Battle  of  the  Frogwand  Mim, 
and  Virgil  in  the  poem  on  a  Gruif,  attributed  to  him,  who 
have  given  birth  to  these  lusory  poems.  The  Jesuits, 
particularly  when  they  composed  in  Latin  verse,  were  par* 
tial  to  such  subjects.  There  is  a  Utile  poem  on  GoM,  by 
P.  Le  Fevre,  distinffuiehed  for  its  elegance ;  and  Brunoy 
has  given  the  Art  of  mphng  Olau ;  in  which  he  has  <»• 
scribed  its  various  productions  with  equal  felicity  and 
knowledge.  P.  Vaniere  has  written  on  PigHma,  Da 
Cerceau  on  ButUrJUta,  The  success  which  aUsodad 
these  productions  produced  numerous  imitations,  of  wfaiob 
several  were  favourably  received.  Vaniere  composod 
three  on  the  Grope,  the  Vintage,  and  the  KUthm  Ocrdm^ 
Another  poet  selected  Orangea  lor  his  theme ;  others  bar* 
chosen  for  their  subjects,  Papery  Birda,  and  fresh-watsr 
FHah.  TariUon  has  inflamed  his  imagination  with  Ovii- 
powder ;  a  milder  genius,  delighted  with  the  oaten  poMi 
sang  of  Sh^ ,-  one  who  was  more  pleased  with  anotner 
kind  of  pipe,  has  written  on  Tobacco;  and  a  droit  genius 
wrote  a  poem  on  Aaaea,  Two  writers  have  formed  didactic 
poems  on  the  Art  of  Erugmaa,  and  on  Shipa, 

Others  have  written  on  moral  aubiects.  Brumoy  bat 
painted  the  Paaaiontf  with  a  variety  of  imagery  and  ir'tnf^ 
city  of  description;  P.Meyer  has  disserted  on An^er; 
TariUon,  like  our  StilUngfleet,  on  thft  Art  of  Convtradnon  ; 
and  a  lively  writer  haa  discussed  the  subjects  cfHumimr 
and  Wit. 

Giannetazzi,  an  Italian  Jesuit,  celebrated  for  his  Latin 
poetrv.  has  composed  two  volumes  of  poems  on  ft^tng- 
and  Navigation.  Fracastor  has  written  delicately  on  an 
indelicate  subject,  his  Sypftilia,  Le  Bran  wrote  a  delect- 
able poem  on  Sioe^meata;  another  writer  oo  Jkfiiurat 
fVatera,  and  a  third  on  PrisUing.  Vida  pleases  with  fait 
SiUcrtoortna  and  his  Chtaa  ,*  Buchanan  is  ingenious  with 
his  Sjfhere.  Malapert  has  aspired  to  catch  the  fVimda  ; 
the  philosophic  Huet  amused  himself  with  Salt,  and  again 
with  Tea,  The  Qardtna  of  Rapin  is  a  finer  poem  than 
critics  generally  can  write  ;  Quillet's  CaUfpedtOj  or  Art 
of  getting  handsome  Children,  has  been  translated  by 
Rowe ;  and  Du  Fresnoy  at  length  gratifies  the  connoisseor 
with  his  poem  on  Paintingy  by  the  embellishments  whidi 
his  verses  have  received  from  the  poetic  diction  of  Masoo* 
and  the  commentary  of  Reynolds. 

This  list  might  be  augmented  with  a  few  of  our  o«m 
poets,  and  there  still  remain  some  virgin  themes  whidk 

vantage  of  instractmg  us  very  agreeably.  All  that  has 
been  most  remarkably  said  on  the  subject  ia  tmitcd,  cobk 
pressed  in  a  luminous  order  and  dressed  in  all  the  aaieo* 
able  graces  of  poetry.  Such  writers  have  no  litdtt 
difliculties  to  encounter:  the  style  and  expreaaion  ooA 
dear ;  and  still  more  to  give  to  an  arid  topic  an  agroeabin 
form,  and  to  elevate  the  subject  without  faliiag  into  aaof  hat 
extreme. — In  the  other  kinds  of  poetry  the  matter  aMostn 
and  prompts  genius ;  here  we  must  possess  ao  abucdanoo 
to  display  it,* 




Myles  Davief'  *  Icon  Libellorum,  or  a  Critical  History 
of  Pamphlets/  affords  some  curious  inronnation ;  and  as 
this  is  a  pamphlet-rewdmg  age,  I  shall  giro  a  sketch  of  its 

The  author  ia  at  once  serious  and  humourous  m  his  pre- 
face. He  there  observes :  *  From  Pamphlets  may  be 
learned  the  genius  of  the  ue,  the  debates  of  the  learned, 
the  follies  of  the  ignorant,  the  bivuea  of  government,  and 
the  mistakes  of  the  courtiers.  Pamphlets  furnish  beaus  with 
their  airs,  coquets  with  their  charms.  Pamphlets  are  as  mo- 
dish ornaments  to  gentlewomen's  toilets  as  to  gentlemen's 
pockets ;  they  carry  reputation  of  wit  and  learning  to  all 
that  make  them  their  companions ;  the  poor  find  their  ac- 
count in  stall-keeping  and  in  hawking  them ;  the  rich  find 
in  them  their  shortest  way  to  the  secrets  of  church  and 
state.  There  is  scarce  any  class  of  people  but  mav 
think  themselves  interested  enough  to  be  concerned  with 
what  is  published  in  pamphlets,  either  as  to  their  private 
instruction,  curiosity,  and  reputation,  or  to  the  public  ad- 
vantage and  credit ;  with  all  which  both  ancient  and  mo- 
dem pamphlets  are  too  often  over  familiar  and  free.— In 
short,  with  pamphlets  the  booksellers  and  stationers  adorn 
the  gaiety  of  snop-gazing.  Hence  accrues  to  grocers, 
apothecaries,  and  chandlers,  good-fumiture,  and  supplies 
to  necessary  retreats  and  natural  occasions.  In  pam- 
phlets lawyers  wiU  meet  with  their  chicanery,  physicians 
with  their  cant,  divines  with  their  Shiboleth.  Pamphlets 
become  more  and  more  daily  amusements  to  the  curious, 
idle,  and  inquisitive;  pastime  to  gallants  and  coquets; 
chat  to  the  talkative ;  catch-words  to  informers ;  fuel  to 
the  envious ;  poison  to  the  unfortunate ;  balsam  to  the 
wounded ;  employment  to  the  lazy ;  and  fabulous  materials 
to  romancers  and  novelists.' 

This  author  sketches  the  origin  and  rise  of  pamphlets. 
He  deduces  them  from  the  short  writings  publisned  by  the 
Jewish  Rabbins  ;  various  little  pieces  at  the  time  of  the 
first  propaigation  of  Christianity ;  and  notices  a  certain 
jampnlet  which  was  pretended  to  have  been  the  composi- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ,  thrown  from  heaven,  and  picked  up 
ay  the  archangel  Michael  at  the  entrance  of  Jerusalem. 
It  was  copied  by  the  priest  Leora,  and  sent  about  from 
priest  to  priest,  till  Pope  Zachary  ventured  to  pronounce 
It  A  forgery !  He  notices  several  such  extraordmary  pub* 
Icationa,  many  of  which  produced  as  extraordinary  effects. 

He  proceeds  in  noticmg  the  first  Arian  a  no  Popish 
•araphlets,  or  rather  UbeUf  i.  e.  little  books,  as  ho  distin- 

Suishes  them.  He  relates  a  curious  anecdote  respecting 
le  forgeries  of  the  monks.  Archbishop  U«her  delected 
n  a  manuscript  of  St  Patrick's  life,  pretended  to  have 
toeo  found  at  Louvain,  as  an  original  of  a  very  remote 
late,  several  passages  tdken,  with  Uttle  alteratimi,  from  his 
»wn  writings. 

The  following  notice  of  our  immortal  Pope  I  cannot 
Mss  oTer :  *  Another  class  of  pamphlets  wnt  bv  Roman 
CaihoAcs  is  that  of  Poems,  written  chiefly  bv  a  Pope  him- 
•elf,  a  gentleman  of  that  name.  He  passed  always  amongst 
siost  of  his  acquaintance  for  what  is  commonly  called  a 
Whig ;  for  it  seems  the  Roman  politics  are  divided  a«  well 
is  Popish  misnonaries.  However  one  fstfros,  an  apo- 
thecary, as  he  qualifies  himself,  has  published  a  piping-not 
Cmphlet  against  Mr  Pope's  '  Rape  of  the  LfKk^  which 
entitles  *  A  Key  to  tKe  Loek^  wherewith  he  pretends 
to  unlock  nothini^  less  than  a  Plot  canied  on  by  Mr.  Pope 
in  that  poem  agamst  the  last  and  this  present  ministry  and 

He  obierves  on  Semumay — '  'Tis  not  much  to  be  qnea- 
liooed,  but  of  all  modem  pamphlets  what  or  wheresoever, 
Aie  EngHeh  atUehed  Sermona  oe  the  most  edifyin|(,  useful, 
and  instructive,  yet  they  could  not  escape  the  critical  Mr 
Bayle's  sarcasm.'  He  sava,  *  Republique  des  Lettres,' 
Marcli  1710,  in  his  article  London, '  We  see  here  sermona 
swarms  daily  from  the  press.  Our  eyes  only  behold  man- 
na :  are  you  not  desirous  of  know'mg  the  reason  ?  It  is, 
Chat  the  ministers  being  allowed  to  read  their  sermons  in 
Ihe  pulpit,  buy  aU  they  meet  toit/k,  and  take  no  other  trouble 
than  to  read  them,  and  thus  pass  for  very  able  scholars  at 
a  very  cheap  rate !' 

He  now  begini  more  directly  the  history  of  pamphlets, 
which  he  branches  out  from  four  different  etymologies. 
He  says,  *  however  foreign  the  word  Pamphlet  may  ap- 
pear, rt  is  a  genuine  English  word,  rarely  known  or  adopt- 
ed in  any  other  language :  its  pedigree  cannot  well  be 
traced  higher  than  the  latter  end  of  dueen  Elizabeth's 

reign.  In  its  first  state  wretched  must  have  been  its  a^ 
pearance,  since  the  great  linguist  John  Minshew,  in  his 
*  Guide  itUo  Tongtue*  printed  in  1617,  gives  it  the  moat 
miserable  character  of  which  any  libel  can  be  capable. 
Mr  Minshew  says  (and  hu  words  were  quoted  by  Lord 
Chief  Justice  Holt,)  *  A  pamphlet,  that  is  Opuacuium 
StoUdorunif  the  diminutive  performance  of  fools ;  from  irov 
all,  and  oiXi^.  IJiUf  to  wit,  aU  places.  According  to  the 
vulgar  saying,  all  things  are  full  of  fools,  or  foolish  things  ; 
for  such  multitudea  on  pamphlets,  unworthy  of  the  very 
name  of  libels,  being  m<»'e  vile  than  common  shores  and 
the  filth  of  beggars,  and  being  flying  papers  daubed  over 
and  besmeared  with  the  foam  of  drunkards,  are  tossed 
far  and  near  into  the  mouths  and  hands  of  scoundrels ; 
neither  will  the  sham  oracles  of  Apollo  be  Mteemod  so 
mercenary  as  a  pamphlet.' 

Those  who  will  have  the  word  to  be  derived  from  Pam, 
the  famous  knave  of  Loo,  do  not  differ  much  from  Min- 
shew ;  for  the  derivation  of  the  word  Pom  is  in  all  proba- 
bility from  iravt  all;  or  the  tohole  or  the  chief  <^  the  game. 

Under  thin  Jiret  etymological  notion  of  Pamphlets,  may 
be  comprehended  the  vulgar  etoriea  of  the  Nine  Worthies  of 
the  Worid,  of  the  Seven  Champions  of  Christendom,  Tom 
Thumb,  Valentine  and  Orson,  &c,  as  also  most  of  ap<^ 
cryphal  lucubrations.  The  greatest  cdlection  of  this  nrst 
sort  of  Pamphlets  are  the  Rabbinic  traditions  in  the  Tal- 
mud, consisting  of  fourteen  volumes  in  folio,  and  the  P<h 
pish  legends  of  the  Lives  of  the  Saints,  which,  though  not 
finished,  form  fifty  folio  volumes,  all  which  tracts  were 
originally  in  pamphlet  forms. 

The  oecond  idea  of  the  radix  of  the  word  Pamphlet  it. 
that  it  takes  it  derivations  from  iray,  off,  and  ^ikuti  1 
love,  signifying  a  thing  beloved  by  all ;  for  a  pamphlet  be- 
ing of  a  small  portable  bulk,  and  of  no  great  price,  is  adapU 
ed  to  every  one's  understanding  and  reading.  In  this  class 
may  be  placed  all  stitched  books  on  serious  subjects,  the 
best  d*  which  fugitive  pieces  have  been  generally  preserved, 
and  even  reprinted  in  collections  of  some  tracts,  miscellan- 
ies, sermons,  poems,  &c ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  bulky  vo- 
lumes have  been  reduced,  for  the  convenience  of  thn  public, 
into  the  familiar  shapes  of  stitched  pamphlets.  Both  these 
methods  have  been  thus  censured  by  the  majority  of  the 
lower  house  of  convocation  1711.  These  abuses  are  thus 
represented  :  '  They  have  re-published,  and  collected  into 
volumes,  pieces  written  long  ago  on  the  side  of  infidelity. 
They  have  reprinted  together  in  the  noet  contracted  man- 
ner, many'  loose  and  licentious  pieces,  in  order  tn  their 
being  purchased  more  cheaply,  and  dispersed  more  easily.' 

The  third  original  interpretation  of  the  word  Pamphlet 
may  be  that  of  the  learned  Dr  Skinner,  in  his  Etymologi- 
con  JJngutB  AnglicoTug,  that  it  is  derived  from  the  Belgic 
word  Pampier,  signifying  a  little  paper,  or  libel.  To  this 
third  set  ol  Pamphlets  may  be  reduced  all  sorts  of  printed 
single  sheets,  or  naif  sheets,  or  any  other  quantity  of  single 
paper  prints,  such  as  Declarations,  Remonstrances,  Pro- 
clamations, Edicts,  Orders,  Injunctions,  Memorials,  Ad- 
dresses, News-papers,  &c. 

The  fourth  radical  signification  of  the  word  Pamphlet  is 
that  homogeneal  acceptation  of  it,  viz  as  it  imports  any 
little  book,  or  small  volume  whatever,  whether  stitched  or 
bound,  whether  good  or  bad,  whether  serious  or  ludicrous. 
The  only  proper  Latin  term  for  a  Pamphlet  is  Ubelhu,  or 
little  book.  This  word  indeed  signifies  in  English  an 
tJnirive  paper  or  little  book,  and  is  generally  taken  in  the 
worst  sense. 

After  all  this  display  of  curious  literature,  the  reader 
may  smile  at  the  guesses  of  Etymologists ;  particulariy 
when  he  is  reminded  that  the  derivation  of  Pompft^is 
drawn  from  quite  another  meaning  to  any  of  the  present, 
by  Johnson,  which  I  shall  give  for  his  immediate  gratifica^ 

Pamphlet  {par  vn  JtUet,  Fr.  Whence  this  word  is 
written  anciently,  and  by  Caxton,  paunjkt]  a  small  book; 
properly  a  book  sold  unbound,  and  only  stitched. 

The  French  have  borrowed  the  word  Pamphlet  from  us, 
and  have  the  goodness  of  not  disfiguring  its  orthography. 
Roaal  Be^  is  Hao  in  the  same  prMicament.  I  concluoe 
that  Pamphleta  and  RoaetBeefhw  therefore  their  origin 
in  our  country. 

I  am  favoured  by  Mr  Pinkerton  with  the  followtng  cari- 
ous notice  concerning  pamphlets : 

Of  the  etymon  of  pamphlet  1  know  nothinff ;  but  that  the 
word  is  far  more  ancient  than  is  commonly  believed,  take 
the  following  proof  from  the  celebrated  Philolnblionj  as- 
cribed to  Richard  de  Buri,  Bishop  of  Durham,  but  wntten 



bj  Robert  UoDcot,  at  hit  desire,  m  Fabridnt  say*,  about 
the  year  lS44,(FabrBiblMedii  BTi,yolI;)  it  is  in  the 
f  ighih  chapter. 

*Sed  rerera  libraa  non  libraa  maloiiniia;  oodioesqiw 
dlos  difesoAus  qaam  floreoos :  ac  panfletna  eziguos  poa- 
leratia  prstutimus  paleaoedu.' 

*  But,  indeed,  we  prefer  books  to  pounds ;  and  we  lore 
nanuaaiplB  better  thall  florins;  and  we  prefer  somU 
MimUcCi  to  war-horses.* 

Tnis  wotd  is  as  old  as  Ljd^te's  time:  among  his  works, 
i]Qoted  hj  Thomas  Warton,  is  a  poem  *  trandatad  finom  a 
paim/Ute  m  Frensche.' 


Myles  DaTies  has  given  an  opinion  of  the  adrantages 
of  Little  Books  with  some  wit  ano  humour. 

*  The  smallness  of  the  size  of  a  book  was  alwajrs  its 
own  commendation ;  as,  on  the  cootranr,  (he  largeness  of 
a  book  is  its  own  disadvantage,  as  well  as  terror  of  lean>> 
ing.  lashort,  a  big  book  is  a  scare-crow  to  the  head  and 
pMket  of  the  author,  student,  buver^  and  seOer,  as  well  as 
a  harbour  of  ignorance ;  hence  the  maocessible  masteries 
of  the  inexpugnable  ignorance  and  superstition  of  the  an- 
cient heathens,  degenerate  Jews,  and  of  the  popish  schol- 
aaters  and  canonists  entrenched  under  the  frightful  bulk  of 
huge,  vast,  and  innumerable  volumes ;  such  as  the  great 
Iblio  that  toe  Jewish  rabbins  fancied  in  a  dream  was  fiven 
by  the  angel  Raziel  to  his  pupil  Adam,  containing  aU  the 
edestial  sciences.  And  the  volumes  writ  by  Zoroaster, 
antitlcd  The  Similitude,  which  is  said  to  have  (aktro  up  no 
More  space  than  l,t<X)  hitjes  of  cattle  :  as  also  the  25,000, 
or  as  some  say,  S6,000  volumes,  besides  525  l(*sser  iiss  of 
his.  The  groesoess  and  multitude  of  Aristotle  and  Yar- 
rows books  were  both  a  prejudice  to  the  authors,  and  an 
hindrance  to  learning,  aiio  an  occasion  of  the  greatest  part 
of  them  being  lost.  The  largeness  of  Plutarch's  treatises 
»  a  great  cause  of  his  being  neglected,  while  Longinus  and 
Epictetus,  in  iheir  pamphlet  Remains,  are  every  one*s 
companions.  Origeo's  6.000  volumes  fas  Epiphanius  will 
have  it)  were  not  only  the  occasion  ol  his  venting  more 
numerous  errors,  but  also  for  the  most  part  of  their  perdi- 
tion.-—-Were  it  not  for  Euclid's  Elemenu,  Hippocrates's 
Aphorisms,  Justinian's  Institutes,  and  Littleton's  Tenures 
in  small  pamphlet  volumes,  young  mathematicians,  fresh- 
water physicians,  civilian  novices,  and  Irs  opprenliees  em 
k^  tTAngUUmf  would  be  at  a  loss  and  stand,  and  total 
daenoouragement.  One  of  the  greatest  advantages  the 
Diapenaary  has  over  King  Arthur  is  its  pamphlet  size.  So 
Boileau's  Lutrin,  and  his  other  pamphlet  poems,  in  respect 
of  Perrault's  and  ChapelainV  St  Paulin  and  la  Pucelle. 
Thm»  seem  to  pi^  a  deference  to  the  reader's  quick  and 
great  understandmg ;  thott  to  mistrust  his  capacity,  and 
toconflne  his  time  as  well  as  his  intell«*ct.' 

Notwithstanding  so  much  may  be  alleged  in  favour  of 
books  of  a  small  size,  yet  the  scholars  of  a  former  age  re- 
garded them  with  contempt.  Scaliger,  says  Baillet,  cavils 
with  Drusius  for  the  smallness  of  ms  books ;  and  one  of 
the  great  printers  of  the  time,  (Moret,  the  successor  of 
Plantin)  complaining  to  the  learned  Puteanus,  who  was 
ooBsideied  as  the  rival  of  Lipeius,  that  hn  books  were  too 
■Ban  lor  sale,  and  that  purcnasers  turnrd  awav  frightened 
■t  their  diminutive  size ;  Puteanus  referred  him  to  Pli:^ 
tarch,  whose  works  consist  of  small  treatises ;  but  the 
printer  took  fire  at  the  comparison,  and  turned  him  out  of 
mm  ehop,  for  his  vanity  at  pretending  that  he  wrote  in  any 
manner  Uke  Plutarch !  a  specimen  this  of  the  politeness 
and  reverence  of  the  early  printers  for  their  learned  au- 
thors !  Jurieu  reproaches  Colomieo  that  he  is  «  greol 
malkat^flUiU  books  ! 

At  least,  if  a  man  is  the  author  onlv  of  little  books,  he 
win  escape  the  sarcastic  observation  of  Cicero  on  a  volum- 
iMms  vrritei^— that  *  his  body  might  be  homed  with  his 
writings,'— «f  which  we  have  nad  several,  eminent  for  the 
wortUoBsnesa  and  magnitude  of  their  labours. 
It  was  the  literary  humour  of  a  certain  M»cenas,  who 
red  the  lustre  of  his  patrpoage  with  the  streams  of  a 
1  diaaar,  to  place  his  guests  according  to  the  size  and 
EOeas  of  the  books  they  had  printed.  At  the  head  of 
table  sat  those  who  had  published  in  foHo  Jo/i  jsstmo ; 
t  the  anthers  in  quarto ;  then  those  in  ottm^.  At  that 
table  Blackaiore  would  have  had  the  precedence  of  Gray. 
Adifimn,  who  found  this  anecdote  in  one  of  the  Anas,  has 
aaized  this  idea,  and  spptied  it  with  his  felicity  of  humour 
in  No  5S9  of  the  Spectator. 
Mootaigaa's  works  have  been  called  by  a  Cardmal, 

*  The  Breviary  of  Idlers.'  It  is  therefore  the  book  for 
men.  Francis  Osborne  has  a  ludicroua  image  in  favouroif 
such  opuscula.  *  Huge  volumes,  like  the  ox  roasted  whole 
at  Bartholomew  fair,  many  proclaim  plenty  of  labour,  baft 
afford  less  of  what  is  c/elicafe,  aaosHry,  and  mefl  twmtm  tad, 
than  sifAi.x.xK  fiecks.' 

In  the  list  of  titles  of  minor  works,  which  Auha  QtSbam 
has  preserved,  the  lightness  and  beauty  of  such 
tions  are  charmingly  expressed.   Among  these  we 
Basket  of  Flowers;  an  embroidered  Alantle ;  and  aTi 
gated  Meadow. 

A  catholic's  BXrVTATIOir. 

In  a  religious  book  published  by  a  fellow  efthe  aocM^ 
of  Jesus,  enliUed,  *  The  Faith  of  a  Catholic,'  the  anihor 
examines  what  concerns  the  incredulous  Jews  and  other 
infidels.  He  wouki  show  that  Jesus  Christ,  anther  of  tho 
religion  which  bears  his  name,  did  not  impose  on  or  6^ 
ceive  the  Apostles  whom  he  taught;  that  the  Apoadsa 
who  preached  it  did  not  deceive  those  who  were  coBvefled  ; 
and  that  those  who  were  converted  did  not  deceive  on. 
In  improving  these  three  not  difficult  propositions  be  sayS| 
he  confounds  *  the  Atheiat,  who  does  not  believe  in  God ; 
the  Pagxatf  who  adores  several;  the  Aut,  who  believea 
in  one  God,  but  who  rejects  a  particular  Providence;  the 
Frttthinkerj  who  presumes  to  serve  God  acoocdinc  to  bia 

fancy,  without  being  attached  to  any  religioo ;  the  PI 
n|ier,  who  takes  reason  and  not  revelation  for  the  rule  of 
his  belief;  the  OtntiUf  who  never  having  regarded  the 
Jewuh  people  as  a  chosen  nation,  doea  not  believe  God 

fironused  them  a  Messiah ;  and  finally,  the  /«w,  who  re- 
tis*!a  to  adore  the  Messiah  in  the  person  of  Christ. 

I  have^vrn  this  sketch,  as  it  serves  for  a  singular  Cata- 
logue tXHeredca, 

It  is  rather  singular  that  so  late  as  in  the  year  1765^  a 
work  should  have  appeared  in  Paris,  which  bears  the  title 
I  translate,  *  The  Coristain  Religion  pnntd  by  a  wmgk 
fact ;  or  a  dissertatitm  in  which  is  shown  that  those  Csmo- 
liea  of  whom  Huneric,  King  of  the  Vandals,  cut  the 
tongues,  apoke  miraadoua  all  the  remainder  of  their  days; 
fixMn  whence  is  deducted  the  conaequeneta  qf  Ihia  mirida 

against  the  Arians,  the  Sociniaus,  aiid  the  Deists,  and  par- 
ticularly against  the  author  of  Emilius,  by  solving  their 

difficulties.'    It  bears  this  Kpifnph;  JEcee  Ego 
tianem  f adorn  pofmio  Aaic,  mtraevle  grandi Hal  ^ 
There  needs  no  farther  account  of  this  book  than  the  title. 
The  cause  of  religion  is  hurt  by  stupid  advocates. 

TBS  OOOD  AD  Vies   Or   AH   OLD  LirSMAmT  aiVlfBlU 

Authors  of  moderate  capacity  have  tmceasingly  harraa- 
sed  the  public ;  and  have  at  length  been  remesabered  oo^ 
by  the  number  of  wretched  volumea  their  unhappy  indoe- 
tnr  has  produced.  Such  aa  an  author  was  the  Abb6  da 
Marolles,  the  subject  of  this  article,  otherwise  a  moat 
estimable  aixl  ingenious  man,  and  the  fother  of  priot-coUe^ 

Thia  Abb6  was  a  most  egregiotis  scribbler ;  and  so  tor- 
mented  with  violent  fits  of  prmting,  that  he  even  printed 
lists  and  catalogues  of  hb  fnends.  I  have  even  seen  al 
the  end  of  one  of  his  works  a  list  of  names  of  thooe  per- 
sons who  had  given  him  books.  He  printed  Ua  works  at 
his  own  expense,  as  the  booksellers  bad  imanimoaaly  d^ 
creed  this.  Menage  used  to  say  of  his  works,  *  The 
reason  why  I  esteem  the  productions  of  the  Abb6  is,  for 
the  singular  neatness  of  their  bindings ;  he  ambeDidias 
them  so  beautifully,  that  the  eye  finds  |4easore  in  them.' 
On  a  book  of  his  ven>ioos  of  the  Epiframs  of  Martial,  this 
Critic  wrote,  £pigrama  agahut  Martial,  Latteriy,  for 
want  of  employment,  our  Abb6  began  a  translation  of  dM 
Bible ;  but  having  inserted  the  notes  of  the  visioiiary  laaao 
de  la  Peyrere,  the  work  was  burnt  by  order  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical court.  He  was  also  an  abundant  writer  in  versa, 
and  exultingly  toM  a  poet,  that  his  verses  cost  him  little : 
'  They  coet  you  what  they  are  worthy'  replied  the  sarca^ 
tic  critic.  De  Marolles  in  his  Afemevs  Utterly  complaina 
of  the  injustice  done  to  him  by  his  contempwaries ;  and 
sav*,  that  in  spite  of  the  little  favours  shown  to  htm  by  the 
public,  he  has  nevertheless  published,  by  an  accurate  cal* 
culation,  one  hundred  and  thirty-three  thoosand  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-four  verses!  Yet  this  was  not  the  heav- 
iest of  his  literarr  tins.  He  is  a  proof  that  a  trandatm 
may  perfectly  understand  the  lancuage  of  his  orignal,  ana 
yst  produce  an  execrable  translation. 

In  thn  esriy  pert  of  his  lif«  this  unlucky  author  bad  not 
be«n  without  ambition ;  it  was  only  e^aa  disappotr^ed  m 



hb  political  projects  that  he  reeolved  to  dcTote  himself  to 
Iharature.  At  he  wm  incapable  of  attempting  original 
eompositiony  he  became  knoirn  by  hii  detestable  versaoos. 
He  wrote  above  eighty  volumes,  which  have  never  found 
fiivour  in  the  eyes  of  the  critics ;  yet  his  trasslationa  are 
■oi  without  >heir  use,  though  they  never  retain  by  any 
ehance  a  single  passase  of  Uio  spirit  of  their  originals. 

The  most  remarkabw  anecdote  respecting  these  transla- 
tioosiSjthat  whenever  this  honest  translator  came  to  a  diffi- 
cult  passage,  he  wrote  in  the  margin  <  I  have  not  translated 
tU»  passage,  because  it  is  very  difficult,  and  in  truth  I 
coukl  never  understand  it.'  He  persisted  to  the  last  in 
his  uninterrupted  amusement  of  printing  books,  and  his 
readers  having  kmg  ceased,  he  was  compelled  to  present 
them  to  his  friends^  who,  probably,  were  not  hw  readers. 
After  a  literary  existence  of  forty  yean,  he  gave  the  pub- 
lic a  work  not  destitute  of  entertamment  in  nis  own  Me- 
moirs, which  he  dedicated  to  his  relations  and  all  his  illus- 
trious friends.  The  singular  postscript  to  his  Epistle  De- 
dioatory  contains  excellent  advice  for  authors, 

<  I  have  omitted  to  tell  you,  that  I  do  not  advise  any  one 
efmy  relatives  or  friends  to  apply  himself  as  I  have  done 
to  study,  and  particularly  to  the  composition  of  books,  if  be 
thinks  that  wul  add  to  his  fame  or  fortune.  I  am  persua- 
ded that  <^all  persons  in  the  kinsdom,  none  are  more  neg- 
lected than  those  who  devote  themselves  entirely  to  lit- 
erature. The  small  number  of  successful  persons  in  that 
class  (at  present  I  do  uot  recollect  more  than  two  or  three) 
abotda  not  impose  on  one's  understanding,  nor  any  conse- 

Sence  from  them  be  drawn  in  favour  of  others.  I  know 
w  it  is  by  my  own  experience,  and  by  that  of  several 
amongst  you,  as  well  as  by  many  who  are  now  no  more, 
and  with  vrhom  I  was  acquainted.  Believe  me,  gentle- 
nen !  to  pretend  to  the  favours  of  fortune  it  is  only  neces- 
sary to  render  one's  self  useful,  and  to  be  supple  and  obee- 
quioos  to  those  who  are  in  possession  of  credit  and  author- 
tty;  to  be  handsome  in  one's  person;   to  adulate  the 

Cowerful;  to  smile,  while  you  suffer  from  them  every 
ind  of  ridicule  and  contempt  whenever  they  shall  do  you 
the  honour  to  amuse  themselves  with  you ;  never  to  be 
frightened  at  a  thousand  obstacles  which  may  be  opposed 
to  one ;  have  a  face  of  brass  and  a  heart  of  stone  ;  msult 
worthy  men  who  are  persecuted ;  rareljr  venture  to  speak 
the  troth ;  appear  devout,  with  every  nice  scruple  ofreli- 
gion,  while  at  the  same  time  evety  du^  must  be  abandoned 
when  it  clashes  with  vour  interest.  After  these  any  other 
acoomplishment  is  inaeed  superfluous.' 


The  origin  of  the  theatrical  representations  of  the  an- 
cients has  Deen  traced  back  to  a  Grrecian  stroller  in  a  cart 
nnging  to  the  honour  of  Bacchus.  Our  European  exhibi- 
tioos,  perhaps  as  rude  in  their  commencement,  were  like- 
vrise  for  a  long  time  devoted  to  pious  purposes,  under  the 
titles  of  Mysteries  and  Moralities,  &c.  Of  these  prime- 
val compositions  of  the  drama  of  modem  Europe,  I  have 
collected  some  anecdotes  and  some  specimens. 

It  appears  that  pilgrioui  introduced  these  devout  spec- 
tacles. Those  who  returned  from  the  Holy  Land  or  other 
consecrated  places  composed  canticles  of  their  travels,  and 
amused  their  religious  fancies  by  interweaving  scenes  oi 
which  Christ,  the  Apostles,  and  other  objects  of  devotion, 
■erved  as  the  themes.  Menestrier  informs  us  that  these 
pilgrims  travelled  in  troops,  and  stood  in  the  public  streets, 
where  they  recited  their  poems,  with  their  staff  in  hand : 
while  their  chaplett  and  cloaks,  covered  with  thelk  and 
ioiages  of  various  colours,  formed  a  pictures(]ue  exiiibition 
which  at  length  excited  the  piet^  of  the  citizens  to  erect 
occasionally  a  stage  on  an  extensive  spot  of  ground.  These 
spectacles  served  as  the  amusement  and  instruction  of  tho 
people.  So  attractive  were  these  ctoss  exhibiitons  m  the 
dara  ages,  that  thejr  formed  one  of  Uie  principal  ornaments 
ef  thefeeeption  which  was  given  to  prmces  when  they  en- 
tered towns. 

When  the  Mysteries  were  performed  at  a  more  im- 
proved period,  the  actors  were  distinguished  characters, 
and  frequently  consisted  of  the  ecclesiastics  of  the  neigh- 
bourinc  villages,  who  incorporated  themselves  under  Die 
title  of  Confreres  de  la  Possum.  Their  productions  were 
divided,  not  into  acts,  but  into  different  days  of  performance, 
and  they  were  performed  in  the  open  plain.  This  was  at 
least  conformable  to  the  critical  precept  of  that  road  knight 
whose  opinion  is  noticed  by  Pope.  It  appears  bv  a  Ms  in 
the  Hsjieian  library  quoted  by  Warton,  that  they  were 
ihoi^t  to  oomribvte  so  much  to  the  information  and  in- 

struction of  the  people,  that  on