UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNl
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CENSURA LITERARIA.
' VOL. V. OF THE NEW SERIES.
Singula I«tus Exquiritque auditque virtm monumenta priorura.
YlKQlU
J
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CENSURA LITERARIA.
CONTAINING
TITLES, ABSTRACTS,
AND
OPINIONS
OLD ENGLISH BOOKS,
ORIGINAL DISQUISITIONS, ARTICLES OF BIOGRAPHY^ AND OTHER LITERARY ANTIQUITIES.
% SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES, Esq.
VOLUME VIII.
BEING THE FIFTH OF THE NEW SERIES.
LONDON;
?RINTED BT T. BENSI.EY, BOLTCOURT, FLEET STREET,
FOK LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ANf) ORME, PATERNOSTER-KOW, AND J. WHITE, FLEET-STREET.
1808.
1 .i 9 '1 x' ^i
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DIGESTED TABLE OF CONTENTS.
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POETRY.
1 , Gawiii Douglafs's Virgl, Vol. 1553 Pajt 37
s. Ovid's Fdble of Narcifllis, 4to. 1^60 , 337
%. Sir Hugh Plat's Floiires of Philofopliie, 8vo. n;;; 1
4. Extrafts from Paiadif; of Dainty Devif.'s, 1576 iji
5. C. Marlow's Ovid's Elegi?s, 8vo. 159S 1T9
6. Anfwere to a Romifli Rini!', 4to. 1602 364
*. Hutton's Follie's Anatomic, izmo. 1619 3^7
,8. Porday's Poems, 8vo. 1660 247
o. f Poor Robin's perambulation from Saffion-Walden to Loulon, 167S, ^to. ^21
MISCELLANEOUS. JO. Propositio Johannis Ru/lell, fui)[)ofed to be printed oy Caxton 3 -I
11. The XII Protitcs of Tribulucyon, 410. 1530, by W. de Wordc 354.
12. fHiftoiredePerce-Foieft, Fol. 1531 218
13. Sir T. Eliot's Caftle of Health, izmo. 1441 20
14 Ptefcrvative agnynfte Di-th, Svo. 154^ 2^1
l^. Tranflation of the Epicureus of dafmus, Svo. i !;43 25X
16. The Exhortacion againft Death of Erafmus, traiiflatcd, Svo. iSS3 256
17. J. Hall's Woorke of Chirurgerie, ^to. 1565 369
18. R. Lfver's Arte ofRcafon, Svo. 1573 341
19. Newton's Hiftory of the Saracens, 1575, 4to 2S
jto. Jerome Turlei's Traveller, 1575 127
21. Sanford's Mirrour of Madnes, Svo. 1576 77
52. Certaine Matters comj^ofcd together, 410. 1 597. Edin 358
23. Rt. Greene's Neuer too late. Both Parts, n. d. 4(0 7
24 Second Part of Do 135
25. Lift of Greene's Works 380
a6. R. Carr's Mahumetane or Turki/h Hiftory, 410. 1 600 149
»7. Art of Jugling by S. R. 4to. 1612 374
2S. f A Treatife
vi CONTENTS.
28. f A Treatife named Lvcafolace devided into fower bookes, 1^90, 4to. . . 417
29. •+A fljort and plain Dialogue concerning the unlaw fulnes of playing at
cards or tible, or any other game, confiding in chance, i2mo 418
30. f A treatife concerning the right vfe and ordering of Bees, 1598, 4to.. . . 419
31. + The Araignment of lewde, idle, forward, and inconftant Women, 1615,
4to ' • • .i« .^- • 423
32. Manwaring's Vienna, a Novel, n. d 33
33. Barrj's Military Difcipline, Fol. 1634 240
34.. S. Morgan's Treatife of Honour, 410. 1642, MS 23;
3j Gifts of Arms by Camden 149,266,391
36. Wither's Letters of Advice on choice of Knights and BurgeiTes, 410. 1 641, 261
37. Lord Derby's Traft on the Proteftant Religion, 4to. 1669 235
38 • 1 67 I w,
39. Effex Champion, or Hiftory of Sir Billy of Billericay, 4tc. n. d 225
40- Hornby's Letters on Dugdale's Errors, 8vo. 1730 1 13
4.1. ....... Third Letter, 8vo. 1738 ib.
42. Queries on the Bafia of Secundus; and the Poems of Tho. Stanley 415
43. -f- tfter hath hang'd Haman ; or an anfwere to a lewd pamphlet entitu'.ed
the Arraingement of Women, 410, n, d. alfo 1807 423
ORIGINAL PIECES.
44. The Ruroinator.... No. XXXIV. A Familiar Poetical EpiSle to a
Friend exprissive of private meljnchily S2
. , XXXV. A fi;-nilar one to another Friend 87
XXX VL On the Thcologcal Wiitings of
Crotjus ,• • 92
., •. XXXVIL Story of an eccentric charafter . ; . . . i !?o
XXXVIII, Tiie fame continued 187
XXXIX, The fame continued 193
XL, The feline continued 322
XL}. The fame continued '3-9
XLII. Complaint .of a literary man 406
• XLIII. Fragments of Poetry 409
45. Original Letter of Coryat the Traveller 73
46. OldPoetxy . .,,,, j-j^ 178, 318,401
47- Oa
CONTENTS. vii
47. On early Jewllh Coins .7., ..... .. . .57, ijS
48. Remarks on the Third Report of ths CommiiTioneis for making New
Roads In Scotland 40
49. On Vaccination 176
50. On a pafldge in Galatinus de Arcanis Catholicae Veritatis 173
51. Defence of Grotius 303
52. Further Remarks in fupport of firft criticifm 33^
5 J. Reply to the Defendet- .' 35^
J4. Addrefs to Time 413
EXTRACTS, LISTS, &C.
5^. Extradls from Mrs. Carter's Letters 197
56 Lord MansSeld's Speech on die Douglas Caufe 57
57. Preiident Dundas's Speech on Do 2^1
5 8. Epitaph on Charles Yorke • • • 211
59 . Report of Sales of Books, N°. Ill 212
60. Literary Intelligence 210
61. Supplement to Lifts of Literary Deaths 109, 221
€a. Literary Obituary ; , . iil, 223, 336, 424
N. B. Those with this mark f are In the Bibliographical Catalogs?,
*>^
'••11
PREFACE.
Whoever shall hereafter look into these volumes,, and I trust there will be many who will be tempted to turn to them, will find a storehouse of recondite ma- terials, which surely will not be denied to be very useful to the rational antiquary. The progress of language is the progress of the human mindj man- ners, sentiment, genius, and learning, arc all intimately and inseparably connected with it. Narrow indeed is the intellect of him, whose knowledge and taste are confined to the productions of a single age.
It is unnecessary to dwell on the causes why books, which are in many points of view curious and valuable, become obsolete, forgotten, and difficult of access. That, which in the period immediately succeeding its own is of little interest or use, obtains, in the lapse of time, new attractions by the contrast which it exhibits to the present; but, in the intervening period of its depression and neglect, its copies have been wasted and destroyed. Some diligence and labour, some VOL. VIII. b generou*
generous attention to unprofitable studies, some touch of that praise-worthy and elevated trait of our nature, Avhich aspires to " make the past predominate over the present," must be admitted by the man of liberal thought to characterize those who exert themselves to search out and revive what yet remains under the ob- scurity of age. The task is often forbidding; it is exposed to the ridicule of the ignorant and the light; the scoff of the jester, and the provoking laugh of the fool.
A rich black-letter library is what very few dtfeer can afford the expcnce, or enjoy the opportunity, of pro- curing. Some moderate substitute is wanted, and ought to accompany every tolerable collection. Time has proved the high- value of the Harleian Miscellany, and iht Somers Tracts, both which, it is much to the credit of the present day, that it has encouraged the un- dertaking to reprint; and it is still more creditable that the editorship has fallen into the hands of two authors the best qualified to do them justice.*
The plan of this work is different; but not, I trust, less useful. It'vv'ould be impossible to reprint the whole cpi every thing; and of many volumes, the title-page,
* Mr. Park and Mr. Waltxr Scott.
a short
XI
a short notice of the contents, and an extract, are all that are required. In making these selections the at- tempt to satisfy all tastes would be hopeless. A work of this kind is no more to be read right onward than a dictionary. A portion too, must always be intended to form a store for future reference, as the occasion ' may demand. New tracks of inquiry and new questional may make that very interesting, which seems at pre- sent to lie inert and barren.
There are those who expect that an account should be given of no books, but of those of the most extreme rariity. Such a plan is neither practicable, nor if prac- ticable is it to be desired. Who is qualified for suck an undertaking? And, if one could be found, who, tha^ has a mind enlarged by a love of literature for its own lake, and that is therefore fitted for the general pur- poses of literary production, could thus limit his curio-, sity and his talents? And as to the use, I must con- fess, that, though 1 cannot admit a cerium degree, of rarity in old bool^s to bf% in ■ninny cases, a proof of their little worth, yet extreme rai-iiy is very generally a presumption of want of nicri:.
Let us consider to whom «.uch a plan would be ac-
■ • .)■« ceptable! Not to the possessors 'if the originals ; for
they, like misers, wish to keen their treasure to ih^m-
b 2 selvcs^l
ill
selves ! Not to those to whom books, mott valuable, though of more frequent occurrence, are rare! It must be acceptable then to those only, who possess the books of common rarity j and even of them itmay be doubted, whether it will not rather excite the envy than the gratification I
It is so easy to find fault, and he who possesses a trifling superiority in one particular, is so apt to for- get the variety of qualifications and opportunities which are requisite to the execution of a work, as well as to secure a reception from various tastes, that were we to listen to the passing- topics of censure, we should sup- pose in general that publications were carried op by the very people most unqualified for such undertakings. But the difference between speculation and perform- ance is well known to be wide indeed ! It is neither an amply-stored library; nor a knowledge of title-pages; nor an eye microscopic into the errors of the press; nor a memory exact in dates; nor a ready acquaintance with the price of rare books in the sale-rooms of the day ; any one of which may enable a man to detect some oversights in a work of this kind: it is no one of these that ought to entitle a critic to censure a publi- cation too severely, till the censurer proves his supe- riority by the production of a better. Were it im- proper for any one to presume to appear as an author
befort
xm
before ihe public, unless he could unite in himself p^- fect preeminence of skill in writing, learning, and genius, the press would be without employ, and rea- ders without new books to feed a liberal curiosity!
Nothing is more contemptible or more repressive than the narrow views of literature, which are too frequently entertained. It is not one plan of pursuit; one mode of exercising the understanding; or the fancy ; one mode of combining the materials of learning; one style of composition, or one sort of illustration, that engrosses all excellence or use. There are a thousand lights in which the same subjects may be contemplated; a thousand ways of operating on the same materials. Never can be minds too varied or too numerous to be employed on them with effect. There is employment for all ; and advantage in the due application to them of all 1 The multiplication of any but immoral books is not an evil; it is the complaint of prejudice or in- terest or envy or ignorance and folly 1 It is a tax oii no one. Who is bound to buy, if he can find neither instruction nor amusement in a woik?
In the volume now offered complete to the public, there are accounts of several old works, which arc both scarce, and possess considerable intrinsic merit. All the tracts of Robert Greene are deserving of notice,
and
XIV
and afford matter either amusing in po'nt of genius; or curious from the characters of his time, which they exhibit. Early translations of the classic poets must always be attractive. The works of Sir Thomas Eliot will always be esteemed for their sterling qualities. The genius of Gawen Douglas cannot be too often brought into notice. The scarce volumes of Plat, Howell, Sanford, Hutton, Carr, and Mainwaringe, will gratify the researcher into the rarer recesses of our forgotten treasures of poetry.
I may speak of these communications with the praise fpr diligent and successful investigation which they , deserve; for the merit belongs not to the Editor but to his Correspondents. It is indeed to his Correspon- dents that almost the whole of the antiquarian part of the present volume is due. The articles themselves speak, how much he owes to the generous zeal and unremitted labours of Mr. Haslevvood, whose ardour never abates, and whose opportunity from his residence in London, his acquaintance with the con- tents of sale-roorhs, and his familiarity and constant communication with other collectors, has enabled him to preserve notices of some of the most curious books which the present liberal rage for possessing the works of our early printers has drawn forth. To his old and kind friend Mr. Park, he owes, even amidst
his
XV
his own great and important occupations, much on which his readers will not be backward in setting its true value. To Mr. Mark land he is also indebted for three or four curious communications.
There is another department, on which I can only ■make my acknowledgments with the diffidence and re- spect due to the very deep, extensive, and able scholar, by whom it has been filled. To the Correspondent, who affixes the signature of 5". to his profound disqui- sitions, and by whose constant letters I consider my pages lo be particularly honoured, T feel a difficulty to speak in terms which shall shew my sense of the obli- gation, without offending him by the appearance of in- delicate praise.
While I thus express my thanks, it would in- deed be strange, were I to withhold all hints of the kindness with which I have been aided by one, whose intimate friendship would shrink from my mention of his name on this occasion. But his talents and ac- quirements are too high to hnve their credit increased by my commendations.
As to the modern part of this volume, it is not necessary at this time to justify its introduction. It formed a regular part in the Prospectus of the New
Scries
XVI
Series of this Work ; and the Preface of the First Volume will prove that it was proposed, as an occa- sional diversity in the former Series. How it has been executed my readers must judge. I am principally responsible for the papers of the Uuminator. They are such, as, on looking back on them, I feel no shame for. Better they might easily be : but T trust they will not be found totally deficient either in powers of think- ing, sentiment, or language. If they are too serious, 1 have no hesitation to confess that gravity is the natu- ral character of my mind, and has been increased and unalterably confirmed by the accidental circumstance* c-f my
Samuel Egerton Brydges.
Denton, Aug. 23, 180».
CENSURA LITERARIA.
NUMBER XXIX.
[Being Number XVII. of the New Series,]
Art. I. The Floures of Philosophies with the Plea- sures of Poetrie annexed to ihenij aswel plesant to be read as profitable to lefoloived of all men,
"Otium sine Uteris mors est, et vivi hominis sepultura."
Seneca.
Printed at London ly Henrie Bynneman and Fraimcis Coldocke, Anno 157 s. Small 8vo.
These philosophical flowers appear to have been gathered from the ethic pages of the Corduban sage, and are inscribed to Anne, Countess of Warwick, by tlie translator, Hugh Plat, of Lincoln's Inn, who pub- lished "Manuale sententias aliquot divinas et morales complectens," in 15845 " The Jewell House of Art and Nature," in 1594; and '^ Sundric New and Arti- ficiall remedies against Fortune," in 1596.* The
• In 1592 was licensed to R. Field *' A brief Al>ologie of Certen newe invencions, compiled by H. Plotj" Hugh Plat most probably; for Plot and Plat bear the same signification. Plat's Paradise of Flora, Garden of Eden, &c. with an account of the author, are introduced in Censu b a, II. p. 216.
VOL, VIII, % present
present publication does not occur in Herbert, nor in any catalogue of English books I have observed : but, according to the booksellers' phrase, the title is a taking one; and so the author seems to have thought by his dilatations upon it in the epistle dedicatory and preface.
** I do heere offer unto your Ladyship (says the Dedicator) a small handfull or two of loose flowres, to be disposed at your discretion either in garlands to weareonyour head, or els in nosegaies tobeare in brest aboute you. I knowe they will be more sweete for smell than seemelie for sighte, and more holesome for the harte than pleasaunte for the bodie; and yet they are suche as our bodies neede not be ashamed of, seeing our soules are so glad to receive them. Yea, thus much I dare promise for them, and will stand to the triall though envie do gainsay, that if the finest flowrs and most holsome herbs that the goodly gardens of Semiramis did bring forth in Babylon, were com- pared with these flowres which are here to be gathered, they would soon lose their name, and be accounted the most vile and abjecte weeds that ever the earthe did foster. Wherefore, as they were once most carefully planted in Rome by Seneca; so nowe I with some paines have removed them here to Englande ; where I do not doubte but that these sweete slips being deepely set in the frutefull soileof your noble harte, will soone take roote and bring foorth frute in great abun- daunce, 8cc."
His Preface, or address to the reader, opens thus :
" I, PLAT, at length a pleasaunte plotte
of fragrant flours have found. Wherein the sweet carnations
with roses do abounde.
Here
Uere springs the goodly gelofers,*
some white, surae redde in showe ; Here prettic pinkcs with jagged leaves
on rugged rootcs do growe. The John so sweete in shewe and smelly . distincte by colours twaine, Aboute the borders of their beds
in seemelie sighte remaine. Such vertue have my marigoldeSj
within their stalcks enrolde. That Phoebus with his burning beames
cannot their leaves unfoldc. The double daisies all in ranckes
aboute my garden goe, "With comelie course of ramamile
that spreadcth to and fro," &c.
To this Preface is subjoined a '* Table of the Flowers of Philosophic," on four pages. The Flowers themselves then follow on 76 pages, and comprise 883 short sen- tences. To these succeed *' The Pleasures of Poetrie," on about 156 pages : but the unique copy before me is not quite perfect. These poetic scantlings bear the following titles:
I. " Agaynst those which wil do nothing themselves, and yet envy at other men's dooings.
3. The song of Arion the musitian, whome a dol- pliin did save from drowning.
3. The pitifull complaynt of Anon, before he was
thrown over boord.
4. The song of Daedalus and his sonne Icarus.
5. How every Vice doth creepe in, under the name
and shewe of a Venue.
• GiUiflowcrs.
B 2 6. Amerrie
6. A merrie tale of Master Mcndax and his friendc
Credulus.
7. A generall discourse uppon CovetouSnesse.
8. A comparison betwixt the Ape and the Flatterer.
9. He is never happie that never suffred adversitie
to set out his happinesse withalL
10. To a covetous man that had his house robbed.
11. Of two gentlemen which by racking of their
rents had destroyed a whole towne. II, It is not God but we ourselves that seeke the eversion of our owne countrey,
13. That man's life is full of misery.
14. A proofe of the contrary parte.
15. A comforte to one that was blynde.
16. Of a gentleman that was slayne in Scotlande.
17. A meriedialogue betwixteJohn and Jone> striving
who shall were the breeches "
The antiquated cast of this merriment may be gathered from two as well as ten stanzas, of which the dialogue consists.
'' Jone. ** By Gisse I thiuke I was accurst t to match with such a man :
What one could see his Wife go thus,
as this my Husbande can? 1 moyle, I toile, and cannot get
a new cote for my paynes j By mighie nor righte he will not spare
a pennie of his gaines. I will no more dresse supper, therefort,
the wretche shall tend to the rost, I will make him kissc postes, if he be not hostis, and suffer me to be host."
«* John,
s
<'John.
" Why, Jone, I pray thee be contente,
if oughte I have offended, I will become a better man
and all shall be amended : But haste maks waste, thou knowst thy lelfe,
and therefore waite my leisure. And, Wife, (hy life to my poore state
shall wante no honest pleasure. But see that my mcate thou dresse me to eate,
or els I will not love thee. And if thou wiltc weare thy Husband's gere,
then shake thou be above me."
i8. '^ A dossen of points sente by a Gentlewoman to hir Lover for a New Yeares Gifte."
These points are nothing less than moral saws, con- cise as the distichs of Cato, and unpoctic enoujih to hang up in a country-hall by the side of King Charles's f' Royal Rules."
*' These points, in number twelve.
Did shew themselves to be; The sense wherof by poet's skill
I will declare to thee,
1. With meate before thee set.
Suffice but nature's scante.
2. Be sure thy tongue at table time No sober talke do want.
3. Let worde, let thought and deede.
In honest wise agree j
4. And loke that poore, in time of neede. Thy helping hand may see.
5. When foes invade the realme. Then shew thy might and strength.
B 3 6. Tel
6. Tel truth in place where thou dost come,
For falshood tailes at length.
7. Be fast and firme to fritnde.
As thou wouldst hino to be.
8. Be shamefast there, -where shamefull deeds Be oflFred unto thee.
g. Weare not such costly clothes As are not for thy state.
10. Heare cache man's cause, as though he were
In wealth thine equall mate.
11. In place thy manners shewe In right and comely wise.
12. From thee let peace and quietnesse And wars from others rise.
With these twelve vertuous points
See thou do tye theeroundej And like and love this simple gift
Till better may be foundc."
19. '* In commendation of Patience.*' This being the shortest poem in the work, it may constitute a closing specimen, as it will furnish the least laborious trial of the virtue here commended.
" For eache mischaunce and hurtcfiill hap
that Fortune seekes to sende, A com forte and a remedie
dame Patiencp stil doth lende.
She feeles no force of flashing flames,
nor stroke of boistrous blow; She cares not for the thunderbolts '
which mightie Jove doth throwe.
She bids thee still to wish the best,
and ihinke on hardie haps; But chaunce What may, she never cares
for Fortune's cruel! claps."
ao. "To
7
ao. ''To E.W. in praise of hir marriage, with cer-
taine precepts of Matrimonie. 21. A defence of schollers* pastimes in riding abroade at Christmas times.
32. A promise of faithfull friendship to his friende.
33. A comforte or consolation to one that had buried
his wife.
24. How necessarie the intermission of studie is for
scholers. 35« The conquering Lover.'*
A L' Envoy of the author concerning his book seems to conclude it, but is incomplete. Enough has been given to prove, that the poet did not attain to *' a plat of rising ground" in the territory of Parnassus.
T.P.
AnT. II. Greenes neuer too late. Both paries. Sent to all youthfull GentlemeUj deciphering in a true English Historie, those particular vanitieSy that with their Frostie vapours nip the hlossomes of euery Iraine, from attaining to his intended perfection. As pleasant as profitahlej being a right Pumice stone, apt to race out idlenesse with delight, and folly with admonition. By Robert Greene, In artihus Magister. Orhne tulit punctum, London : [title imperfect; printed by Smethwicke) 4^0. b. /, Sig. Q.
By the Dedication "To the Right Worshipfall, Tho. Barnaby, Esquire: Robert Greene wisheth in- crease of all honourable vertues," concluding a short B 4 proje
8
prose address, " Your Worship's humbly to coitiM mand, Robert Greene."
** To the Gentlemen Readers. Such (Gentlemen) as had their eares fild with the harmony of Orpheus harpe, could not abide the harsh musicke of Hipar- chion's pipe, yet the Thessalians would allow the poore iidler licence to frolicke it among shepheards. Though no pictures would go for current with Alexander, but such as past through Apelles pensil, yet poore men had their houses shadowed with Phidias coarse colours. Ennius was called a poet as well as Virgil, and Vulcan with his poltfoot friskt with Venus as well as Mars.
** Gentlemen, if I presume to present you, as hitherto I haue done, with friuolous toies : yet for that I stretch my strings as I can, if you praise me not with Orpheus, hisse me not out with Hiparchion : if I paint not with Apelles, yet scrape not out my shadowes with disgrace : if I stirrc my stumps with Vulcan, though it be lamely 4one, yet it is a dance: so, if my Nunquam sera please not, yet I pray you passe it once with patience, and say, tis a booke. So hoping I shal find you as euer J haue done, I end, Rob. Greene."
** A Madrigall to Wanton Louers," four six-line stanzas, signed " Ralph Sidney," and three stanzas, game measure, with signature *' Rich. Hake, Gent."
The story is given as related by one resident " \v\ Bergamo, not farre distant from Venice," who over- hearing the soliloquies of a weary pilgrim enters into conversation with him, and after obtaining his descrip- tion of France, Lyons, and Germany, invites him home, and also obtains a relation of Francesco (the pilgrim's) history. His narrative commences with the ^ime h^ " b^d cut from J)mer to Calice." He de,
fcribfft
9
scribes *' the women in "France generally, as concerning the exterior lineaments of their outward perfection, arc beautifull, as being westernly seated neargreatSmtanie, where nature sits and hatcheth beauteous paramoiirs: yet although natura naturans hath shewed her cunning in their portraitures, as women that thinke nothing perfect that arte hath not polished, that [they] haue drugges of Alexandria, minerals of ^Egypt, waters from Tharsus, paintings from Spaine, and what to doe for- sooth? To make them more beautifull then vertuous, and more pleasing in the eyes of men, then ddightfuU in the sight of God." In Germany he found ** Venus of no screat account, yet shee had there a temple, and though they did not beautify it with jewels, they plainely powred forth such orisons, as did bewray, though they could not court it as the French did with art, yet their lust was not lesse, nor their hues more honest." Of the other sex ** the French gentlemen arc amorous^ as soone perswaded by the beamy of their mistris, to make a brawle, as for the maintenance of relifi^ion, to enter armes; their eves are like Salaman- der-8lones, that fire at the sight of euery flame; their hearts as queasje as the minerals of ^Etna, that burac at the heatc of the sun, and are quencht with the pufie of cuery winde. They count it courtlikc, to spend their youth in courting of ladies, and their age in re- penting of sinnes yet more forward in the one than de- uout in the other." While ^* in their armes they be hardy souldiers, and resolute." Germany was a colder clime, *^ the people high-minded, ant) fuller of words then of courtesie, giuen more to drinke, then to deuo- tion, and yet sundry places stuffed with schismes and l^erpsies, ^s people tb^t delight to b? fgctiqus. Tljcre
might
lO
might you see their interior vanities more then their outward apparell did import, and oft times their vaunts more then their manhood."
The Palmer's tale is fixed at a very early period of the English history, and commences with the following description of himself — *' In those daies when Palme- rin raigned king of great Britaine, famoused for his deedes of chiualrie, there dwelled in the citie of Caer- hranckey a jrentleman, of an ancient house, calledFran- cesco, a man, whose parentage, though it were worship- full, yet it was not endued with much wealth : inso- much that his learning was better then his reuenewes, and his wit more beneficial then his substance. This Segnior Francesco, desirous to bend the course of his compasse to some peaceable porte, spred no more cloth in the wind then might make easie saile, lest hoy sting vp too suddenly aboue the niaine-yard some sudden gust might make him founder in the deepe. Though he were yong, yet he was not rash with Icarus, to soare into the skie, but to cry out with old Dedalus, Medium lene tutissimum', treading his shoe without any slippe. He was so generally loued of the cittizens, that the richest marchant, or grauest burghmaster would not refuse to grant him his daughter in marriage, hoping more of his insuing fortunes, then of his pre- sent substance. At last casting his eie on a gentle- man's daughter that dwelt not far from Caerbranck, he fell in loue and prosecuted his sute with such af- fable courtesie, as the maide considering the vertue and wit of the man, was content to set vp her rest with him, so that her father's consent might bee at the knitting vp of the match,'*
As usual the father refuses hia consent, for " her
dowric
II
dowrie required a greater feoftnent then Francesco's land were able to afford;" the daughter confined to the house, and at bed time her clothes locked up "that no nightly feare of her escape might hinder his bro- ken slumbers.'* Stratagem succeeds; Isabel half naked obtains her liberty and joins her waiting lover, when " as fast as horse would pace away, they post towards a towne in the said country of Brittaine called Duncastrum." On returning from church they are met by the enraged father, who succeeds in sending the bridegroom to prison, for a while, on a charge of felony.
The following interesting scene of domestic prudence and felicity must wake pity and regret, that he, who could succeed so well in the pourtraying it, did not sufficiently covet the happiness if realized to continue the enjoyment.
*' Francesco was set at libertie, and hee and Isabel ioyntly together taking themselves to a little cottage, began to be as Ciceronicall as they were amorous; with their hands thrift coueting to satisfy their hearts thirst, and to be as diligent in labours, as they were affectionate in loues; so that the parish whcrin they liued, so affected them for the course of their life, that they were counted the very mirrors of a democraticall methode; for he being a scholar, and nurst vp in the vniuersities, resolued rather to Hue by his wit, then any- way to be pinched with want, thinking this old sen- tence to be true, the wishers and woidders were never good house- holders ; therfore he applied himselfe in teaching of a schoole, where, by his industry, hee had not onely great fauour, but gate wealthe to withstand fortune, Isabel, that shee might seeme no lesse profi- table,
15
table, then her husband careful!, fell to her needle, and with her worke sought to preuent the iniurie of neces- sitie. Thus they laboured to maintain their loues, being as busie as bees, and as true as turtles, as desirous to satisfie the world with their desert, as to feede the humours of their owne desires. Lining thus in a league of vnited vcrtucs, out of this mutuall concord of conformed perfection, they had a sonne answerable to their owne proportion, which did increase their amitie, so as the sight of their young infant was a double rati- fying of their affection. Fortune and loue thus ioyning in league, to make these parties to forget the stormes, that had nipped the blossoms of their former yeres, ad- dicted to the content of their loues this conclusion of blisse."
Five years having elapsed, possessing the delights that ever spring from conlcnt and industry, they at length become reconciled to the father and " counted this smile of fortune able to countervaile all the con- trary stormes, that the aduerse planets had inflicted vpon them.
** Seated thus, as they thought, so surely, as no sinister chance, or dismall influence might remooue, shoe that is constant in nothing but inconstancy, be- ganne in fair skie to produce a tempest thus,
'' It so chanced, that Francesco had necessarie businesse to dispatch at the chiefe citie of that iland, called Troynouant ; thither with the leaue of his father, and farewell to his wife, he departed, after they WJ&Mt married seuen yeeres: where, after he was arriqed, knowing that he should make his abode there for the space of some nine vveekes, bee sold his horse, and Jijrcd him a chamber, earnestly endeuouring to make
speedie
13
ipeedle dispatch of his affaires, that hee might the sooner entoy the sight of his desired Isabel j for did he see any woman beautiful!, he viewed her with a sigh, thinking how farre his wife did surpasse her in excel- lence; were the modesty of any woman well noted by her qualifies, it grieued him he was not at home with his Isabel, who did excell them in all virtues."
Unfortunately a younjr gentlewoman living opposite " fixed her eyes vpon him with such cunning and arti- flciall tilaunces as she shewed in them a chaste disdaine, and yet a modest desire," and " curtizans of Troy- nouant, are far superiour in artificial! allurement to them of all the world; for although they haue not the painting of Italie, nor the charmes of France, nor the jewels of Spaine, yet they haue in their eyes adamants, that will draw youth as thejeat the straw, or y'. sight of the panther the ermly; their looks are like lures that will reclaime, and like Cyrce's apparitions, that can represent them in a! motions : they containc modestie, mirth, chastity, wantonnes, and what not. — This curti- zan, seeing this country Francesco vi^as no other than a meere nouice, and that so newly, that to vse the old prouerbc, hee had scarce seene the lions ; she thought to intrap him, and so arrest him with her amorous glances, that she should wring him by the purse; wherupon euery day she wold stand out at her case- ment, and there discouer her beauties."
Francesco " who was like the flie that delighted in the flame," first yields to his poetical fury in a canzone, and at leisure time interchanged amorous glances, convinced his affections were too surely grounded on the virtues of Isabel to suffer any diminution from the fascinations of the curtizan Infida. After these im- prudent
H
prudent indulgences follows doubtful reasoning which concludes as follows:
" Francesco, art thou a Christian, and hast tasted of the sweet fruits of theology, and hast not read this in holy writ, pen'd downe by that miracall of wisedomc Salomon, that he which is wise should reject the strange woman, and not regard the sweetnesse of her flattery? — If then, Francesco, theologie tels thee such axioms, wilt thou striue against the streame, and with the deere, feede against the winde ; wilt thou swallow vp sinne with greedinesse, that thou must bee punished without repentance ? No, Francesco, home to the wife of thy youth, and drinke the pleasant waters of thine owne well. And what of all these friuolous circum- stances: wilt thou measure euery action with phi- losophy, OT euery thought with diuinitie? Then shalt thou Hue in the world as a man hated in the world. What, Francesco, hee that is afraid of euery bush, shall neuer prooue good huntsman, and hee that at euery gust puts to the lee, shall neuer be good naui- gator. Thou art now, Francesco, to be a louer, not a diuine, to measure thy affections by Quid's principles, not by rules of theology, and time present wils thee to loue Infida, when thou canst not looke on Isabel; dis- tance of place is a discharge of duty, and men haue their faults, as they are full of fancies. What, the blinde eates many a flic, and much water runnes by the mill that the miller neuer knowes of j the euill that the eye sees not, the hart roes not. Caste si non caute. Tush, Francesco, Isabel hath not Lynceus eyes, to see so farre. Therefore while thou art resident in London, cnioy the beauty of Infida, and when thou art at home,
onely
^3
onely content thee with Isabel, so with a small fautt shall thou fully satisfie thine owne affections."
The result is better conceived than repeated. ^^ Seated in her beautie, he liued a long while, forgetting his re- turne to Caerbranck, til on a day sitting musing with himselfe, hee fell into a deepe consideration of his for- mer fortunes and present follies," which are lamented in a roundelay, but " after he had past ouer his me- lancholy, and from his solitary was fallen into com- pany, he forgat his patheticall impres:^ion of vertue, and like the dog, did redire ad vomitum, and fell lo his owne vomite."
To Isabel certain gentlemen, her husband's private familiars, told he meant to sojourn most part of the year at Troynouant, but one without falsehood declared his love to Infida. A tale Isabel considered frivolous, and when convinced hid her face and inwardly smo- thered her sorrows, yet grieving at his follies " out- wardly withstood insatirical tearmes" against bis honesty; and taking her cittern repeated an Italian verse from Ariosto. In a letter she hints her know- ledge of the amour and says, '' the onely comfort that I haue in thine absence is the child, who lies on his mother's knee, and smiles as wantonly as his father when he was a wooer. But, when the boy sayes, *' mam, where is my dad, when wil he come home;" then the calm of my content turneth to a present storm of piercing sorrow, that I am forced sometime to say, " unkinde Francesco that forgets his Isabell. I hope Francesco it is thine affaires, not my faults, that pro- cure this long delay."
Temporary resolutions of amendment were soon for- gotten in the presence of Infida, who " in a jeast
scofft^
i5
seofft at his wiues letter^^' and " three yeares securely slumbred in the sweetness of their pleasures," when, •' as euery storme hath his calme, and the greatest spring- tide the deadest ebbe, so fared it with Francesco; for so long went the pot to the water, that -at last it came broken home, and so long put he his hand into his purse, that at last the empty bottome returned him a writ of Non est inuentus j for well might the diuell daunce there, for euer a crosse there was to keepe him backe." — Infida " made inquirie into his estate, what linings hee had, what lands to sel, how they were, either tied by statute, or intailed. At last, through her secret and subtile inquisition, she founde that al his corne was on the fioore, that his sheep were dipt, and the wool sold : to be short, that what he had by his wife, could neither bee sold nor morgaged, and what he had of his owne, was spent vpon her, that nothing was left for him to line vpon but his wits. Tl/is newes was such a cooling card" — they parted. His rumi- nations at night conclude " thou hast sinned, yet de- »paire not, though thou art anathema, yet prooue not an atheist J the mercy of God is aboue all his works, and repentance is a precious balme. Home to thy wife, to the wife of thy youth, Francesco, to Isabel, who with her patience will couer all thy follies ; remem- ber this, man, Nunquam sera est ad bonos mores viar
Francesco with very griefe fel in a slumber: the Palmer being weary craves till the morrow to finish his discourse, and the author ends his first part; " there- fore, as soone as it may be, gentlemen, looke for Fran- cescoe's further fortunes, and after my Farewell to Fol- lies, and then adue to amorous pamphlets. Finis. "
The
17
The general rest yields a fit opportunity to defer to the next Number the remainder of this narrative.
[To le coniinuedJ]
Conduit street. J. H,
Art. hi. The Mirrour of Madnes : or a Paradoxe, maintayning Madnes to le most excellent. Done out of French into English ly Ja. Sa?i. Gent, Imprinted at London in Fleete streate, neare to S. Dunstone's Church ly Tho, Marshe. Anno 1576, Sm. %vo.
Ja. San. was, in all probability, James Sanford, the publisher of several other works, and prefixcr of the fol- lowing lines to the present.
" From foraine realme this treatise small
transported came To Englishe coaste, in Frenche attire j
still flitting Fame Doth blowe abroade thinges once disclosde,
in every lande, In written woordes, which aie in booke*
shall firmelye stand. Reprore me not, though Fame by me
enlargement take : This trifling toy, tliis mery jeste,
for solace sake Compiled was in foraine speache.
I pardon crave^ If any bee whom I herein
oflended have: ' For, cynicke like, the authourc here
with skoffcs doth barke rot. yni. c At
1»
At men's madde deedes, which vaincly bcni
DO reason marke. Wherefore in earnest some wil take
that which in jestc It meant of me } ^ in doing so
they do not best. Receave and reade with merie cheare
(good reader) this : With reason's rule amend, if ought
be done amisse. Tutto per tl Meglio."
This Mirroi' of Madness is somewhat similar in itsr design to the praise of Folly by Erasmus, and the au- thor appears a condisciple in the same school of phi- losophy when he declares — Siiiltitiam simulare loco prudentia summa est. From Horace, indeed, we derive a similar instruction —
*' Misce stultitiam consiliis brevem."
For a specimen of the book I transcribe the creed of an Epicure, as it acquaints us with the articles of luxury in former times, in viands, dress, and furniture.
*' Fyrste, I beleeve a cuppe of wyne is wonderfull good : then I beleeve, that custarde, tarte, and marche- pane ; that minsed pyes of the best sorte, that venerie and venison, that quaile, fesaunte, patriche and plover, with other suche daintie wildefowle ; that orenges in sirupe and sirupes of all sortes; that comfittes, bis- kets, and carrawayes, that jelies of all coloure, that succettes, marmalades, and greenc ginger, and brieflye what soever deligbteth mouth and throte, especially is to be regarded. — Thyrdly, I beleeve that fine apparell uppon the whiche moste coste may be bestowed, even
to
•to the higheste bravery; to glitter in silkes and velvets, and to smell sweete of the donge of a muske cat, to have the cappe full of agglets and the bush of fethcrs "in the toppe, brave and Bullaine lyke, the chayne of golde five tymes double aboute the necke, and thereat a pendant tablet, and everye finger besette with three or foure rynges, beside the great sygnet upon the thombe, and a paire of gorgious and perfumed gloves therupon ; lastly, a great trowpe and trayne of men, and my horse trymly trapped, wyth velvet imbrodred set wyth golden studdes, and whatsoever appertayneth or maketh to pompous state and princely port, that singularly is to be holden precious. Fourthlye, I be- leeve that to have my house richelye dyght and hanged, according to my state and condition, and in all partes furnished after the beste manner; my chaumbers (I saye) parloures, and other such romes, hanged wyth clothe of tyssue, arrace, and goolde; my cupbordes heades set oute and adorned after the richest, costlieste, and most gloryous maner, wyth one cuppe cocke height upon an other, beside the greale basen and ewer both of silver and golde; filled at convenient tymes with sweete and pleasaunt waters, wherewith my delicate handcs may be washed, my heade recreated, and ray nose refreshed," &rc.
It appears that Mary, Queen of Scots, while a prisoner at Tutbury castle, accustomed herself to a ivine-bathy which preposterous luxury put her keeper. Lord Shrewsbury, to a greater expense than he profes- sed he could afford. See Lodge's valuable Illustrations of British Histary, 11. 28.
T. P.
© 2 Art.
zo
Art. IV. The Castell of Helthy corrected arid in some places augmented, by the Jirst author therof^ Syr Thomas lS,lyot, knight, the yere of our hrd^ 1541. Colophon. Imprinted at London in Flete strete, in the house late Thomas Bertheleties. Cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum, izmo. I. I.
The erudition of Sir Thomas Elyot has obtained him universal notice and celebration as a grammarian, poet, rhetorician, philosopher, physician, cosmogra pher and historian. His works were in the highest es- timation, and the majority of them passed through many editions. The Castle of Health appears to have been the foundation of his character as a physician, which was first printed in 1534, again 1539, 1541, X547, 1561, 1572, 1576, 1580, 1595,* and it is probable there were two editions without date.
At the back of the title begins " The Proheme of Syr Thomas Elyot, knight, into his booke called the Castell of Helth." In this the author defends the principle of his work.
" Sens this noble writer [Galen] fou^d that lack in his time, whan there flourished in sundry countreis a great multitude of men excellent in al kindea of lern- yng, as it yet doth appere by some of their workes, why should I be greeucd with reproches, wherwith some of my countrey do reco~pence me for my labours taken without hope o? te^porall rewarde, only for the feruent affection, which I haue euer borne toward the
• The edition of 1571 is in the enumeration of Berkenhout; 1595 wa» printed in quarto by the Widdow Orwin as « now newlie perused j" the •then are ooticed by Herbert.
publik*
publike weale of my countrey? A worthy matter, saieth one. Sir Thomas Elyot is become a physicion, andwriteth inphisicke, whiche besemeth not a knight; he mought haue been much better occupied. Truely if thei wyll call him a phisicion, whiche is studious aboute the weale of his countrey, I witsaufe they so name me, for duryng my life, I will in that affection alway continue. And why, I praye you, shoulde men haue in disdaine or small reputacio" the science of phisicke? which beyng well vnderstande, truely ex- perienced, and discretely ordred, doth conserue helth, without the which all pleasures bee peinefull, richesse vnprofitable, company annoyance, strength turned to feblenesse, beauty to lothsomnesse, sences are dis- persed, eloquence interrupted, remembrance con- founded, whiche bathe ben considered of wise men, not onely of the priuate estate, but also of emperours, kings, and other greate princes, who for the vniuersall necessitee and incomparable vtilitee, whiche they per- ceiued to be in that science of phisicke, they did not only aduance and honour it with speciall priuiledges, but also diuers and many of them were therin right studious." [The author then enumerates several royal characters, who made physic their study; and some that have given names to various simples, and noticing writers upon the same subject, proceeds] " Th^s well considered, I take it for no shame to studie that science, or to set foorth any bookes of the same, beyng therto prouoked by the moste noble and vertuous ex- aumple of my moste noble maister kyng Henrie the viii. whose helth I hertily pray God as long to preserue, as God hath constitute man's life to continue, for his highnessc hath not disdained to be the chiefe author c 3 and
2Z
and setter foorth of an Introduction into grammer, for the children of his louyng subiectes, wherby, haiiynge good mavsters, thei shall most easily and in short time apprehend the vnderstandyng and forme of speakyng of irue and eloquent latine. O royall hert full of very nobilitee ! O noble breast, settynge foorth vertuous doctrine, and laudable studie ! But yet one thing much greeueth me, that notwithstandyng I haue euer honour^ ed, and specially favoured the reuerend colledge of ap- proued phvsicions, yet some of them heryng me spoken of, haue saied in derision, that although I were pretily seen in histories, yet beyng not lerned in phisicke, I haue pui in my booke diuers errours, in presumynge to write of herbes and medicines."
[A catalogue of authors that had been perused are given, and that although he had not beea at Mount- pellicr, Padua, or Salem, he had taken no little profit concerning his own health j. " If phisicionsbe angry, that I haue written phisicke in englishe, let them re- member that the grekes wrate in grcke; the Remains in latin; Anicenna and the other in Arabike, which were their owne proper and maternall tongues. And if thei had been as muche attached with enuie and couetise, as some nowe seeme to be, thei would haue deuised some particuler la'^'guage, with a strange cypher or forme of letters, wherin thei would haue written their science, whiche language or letters no manne should haue knowen that had not professed and practised phisicke; but those, although they were Paynims and Jewes,yetin this part of charitee, they farre surmounted ■ ys christians, that they would not haue so necessarie a knowlcgt as phisicke is, to be hidde from them, whiche would be studious about it,
<« Finally,
53
'* Finally, God is my iudge, I write neyther for glorie, rewarde, nor promocion j only I desire men to deme well mine intent, sens I dare assure them, that all that I haue written in this booke, I haue gathered of most principall writers in phisicke. Whiche beyng thoroughly studied and wcl reme~bred, shall be profi- table (I doubt not) vn'co the reader, and nothyng noy- ous to honest phisicions, that dooe measure theyr studie, with moderate liuyng and christen charitee."
The work is divided into four books, upon the con- stitution, food, passions, remedies, &c. 8cc. From the following chapter upon exercise had a limner made sketches of the attitudes, some of the subjects would appear to be undergoing a torture or punishment, or the fooleries of a juggler, rather than pastimes, and following the admonitory precepts of a disciple of Galen.
** The diuersitees of exercises. — ^The qualitee of iexercise, is the diuersitee therof, for asmuch as therin be many differences in mouyng, and also some exercise moueth more one parte of the bodic, some an other. In difference of mouynge some is slowe or soft, some is swift or fastc, some is strong or violent, some be mixte with strengthe and swiftnesse. Strong or violent exercises bee these, deluyng (specially in tough clay and heui) bearyng or susteinyng of heauy burdeins, climmyng or walkyng against a steepe vpright hyll, holdyng a rope, and climmyng vp therby, hangeyng by the hands on any thyng aboue a man's reache, that his fcete touche not the ground: standyng and hold- yng vp, or spreadyng the armes, with the handes faste cloased and abidynge so a longc time. Also to holde the armes stedfast, causyng an other manne, to assaye, c 4 to
34
to pull them out, and notwithstanclyng he kepetk h'la arme stedfast, inforcynge therevnto the synewes and muscules. Wrastlyng also with the armes and legges, if the persons be equall in strength, it dooeth exercise the one and the other : if the one be stronger than is to the weaker a more violent exercise. All these kyndes of exercises, and other lyke them do augment strength, and therefore they serue only for younge men whiche be inclined, or be apt to the warres. Swifte exercise without violence is, rennyng, plaiyng with weapons, tenise or throwyng of the ball, trottyng a space of grounde forwarde and backeward, goeyng on the toes and holdynge vp the handes. Also stirryng vp and downe his armes, without plummettes. Vehement exercise is compounde of violent exercise and swyfte, whan they are ioyned together at one tyme, as daun- syng of galyardes, throwyng of the ball and rennyng after it; — foote ball play may be in the numbre therof, throwyng of the longe darte, and continewynge it many limes; rennynge in harneyse, and other like. The moderate exercise is longe walkynge or goeng a iourney. The partes of the bodie haue sondrie exer- cises appropried vnto them, as rennyng and goeynge is the most propre for the legges. Mouynge of the armes vp and downe, of stretchynge theim out and plaiyng with weapons, serueth moste for the armes and shoul- ders, stowpyng and risyng oftentymes, or liftynge greate weigbtes, takyng vp plummettes or other lyke poyses on the endes of staues, and in likewyse, liftynge vp in euery hande a speare or morispike by the endes, specially crossyng ttie handes, and to laye theim downe againe in their places : these dooe exercise the backe and loynes. Of the bulke and lunges the propre exer-
cyse
^5-
oyse is meeuynge of the breath in syngeing or criynge. The entrayles, whiche be vndernealh the myddreffe, be exercised by blowyng, either by constrainte or plaiynge on shaulmes or sackbottes, or other like in- Atrumentes, which doo require much wynde. The muscules are best exercised with holdynge of the breathe in a longe time, so that he, whiche dooeth exercise, hath well digested his meate, and is not troubled with much wynde in his bodie. Finally, lowde readyng, counterfayt battayle, tenyse, or throw- yng the ball, renynge, walkyng, adde to shootynge: which in mine opinion exceede all the other, dooe exercise the bodie commodiousely. Alway remember, that the ende of violent exercise is difficultie in fetch- yngof the breath. Of moderate exercise, alteracion of breathe onley, or the beginnyng of sweate. Moreouer in winter, rennynge and wraste'yng is conuenient. In sommer wrastelyng a littell, but not renyng. In very coldc weather muche walkynge, in hotte weather, reste is more expedient. They whiche seeme to hauemoyste bodies, and lyue in idelnesse, they haue necde of violente exercise. They whiche are leane and cholerike, muste walke softlie, and exercyse theym selfc very tempe- rately. The plummettes called of Galene alteres, whiche are nowe much vsed with great men, beyng of equall weight, and accordyng to the strength of him that exerciseth, are very good to be vsed fastynge, a littell before breakefaste or dyner, holdyng in euery hande one plummet, and lifting them downe with muche violence, and sahe may make the exercise vio- lent, or moderate, after the poyse of the plummettes, heuier or lighter, and with muche or littell labouryng with them.**
In
z6
In a chapter upon gestacion other exercise is noticed " as liyng a bedde, hangeynge by coardes or cbaynes, or in a cradell, sittynge in a chayre, which is caried on men's shoulders with staues, as was the vse of the an- cient Romains, or sittyng in a boat or barge, whiche js rowed, ridyng on a horse whiche aumbleth very easily," and " gestacion in a chariot or wagon hath in it a shakynge of the bodie, but some vehement>and some more softe."
The following may amuse. *' Walnuttes, mixt with sugar doo nourishe teperately. Of two dry nuttes, as many figges, and xx leaues of rew, with a grayne of salt, is made a medicine whereof if one doo eate fast- ynge, nothyng whiche is venemous may that day hurt him, and it also preserueth against the pestilence."
" Deere red and falowe. Hyppocrates affirmeth that flesshe of hartes and hyndes to be of yll iuyce, hard of digestion and drie. — Of falowe deere, he nor any other olde wryter doth speake of, as I remember, I suppose bycause there be not in al the world, so many as be in England, where they consume a good parte of the best pasture in the realme, and are in nothyng profitable, sauyng that of the skynnes of them is made better lether than is of calues, the huntyng of them beyng not so pleasant as the huntynge of other venery or vermine, the flesshe much more vnholsottie and vn- pleasant than of a red deere, ingendring melancoly and making many feareful dreames, &c."
In a chapter upon the " diuersitee of meates eaten, wherby health is appaired," the learned Knight gives ^he following description of Gluttony.
*' It may seeme to all men, that haue reson, what abuse is here in this realme in the continual gorman^
27
disc and daily feedyng on sondrie meates at one meali the spirite of gluttony, triumphyng amonge vs in his glorious chariot, called welfare, driuyng vs afore him, as his prisoners, into his dungeon of surfet where we are tormented with catarres, feuers, goutes, pleurisies, frettynge of the guttes, and many other sicknesses, and finally cruelly put to death by them, ofte~times in youth or In the most pleasant time of our life, whan we would most gladly liue. For the remedy wherof how many times haue there been deuised ordinaunces and actes of counsayle? Although perchance bodyly health was not the chiefe occasion thereof, but rather prouision against vayne and sumptuous expenses of the meane people. For the nobllitce was excepted, and had libertee to abyde still in the dungeon, if they would, and to liue lesse while than other men: but whan, where and how longe were the saied good de- uises put in due execucion, for all that thereof shuld succede double profite J that is to say, hclth of body, and increse of substance, by eschewynge of superfluous expenses in sundry dishes? Alas howe longe will men fantasie lawes and good ordinaunces, and neuer deter- mine them? Fantasie procedeth of witte, detcrmina- cion of wisdome, witte is in the dcuysyng and speak- ynge, but wisedom is in the pcrfourmance, which resteth only in execucion."
The volume concludes with a justificatory address to the reader,
'' Thus make I an end of this treatise, desiryng them that shall take profile therby, to defend it against cnuioiis disdayne, on w-home I haue set tht aduenture, for the loue that I beare to my countrey, requiryng all honest phisicions to remembre that the intent of my
labour
38
labour was, that men and women reddyng this woorlcc, and obseruyng the counsayles therin, should adapte therby their bodies, to receiue more sure remedie bjT the medicines prepared by good physicions in danger- ous sicknesses, they keeping good diete, an^ infourm- yng diligently the same physicions of the maner of their affectes, passyons, and sensible tokens. And so shall the noble and moste necessarie science of phisicke, with the ministers therof, escape the sclander, whiche they haue of longe time susteyned, and accordyng to the precept of the wyse man, be worthily honoured, for asmuche as the highest God dyd create the physicion for man's necessitee, and of the earth created medicine, and the wyse man shall not abhorre it. Thus fare ye well gen till readers, and forget me not with your good report, and pray to God that I be neuer worse occupied.
Finis.'*
Conditit'Street. J. H.
Art. V. A notable Historye of the Saracens, Irtejiy and faithfully descry bing the originall bc" ginning, continuaunce and successe aswell of the Saracens, as also ofTurkes, Souldans, Afamalukes, Assassines, Tartarians and Sophians, with a dis~ course of their affaires and Jctes from the byrthe of Mahomet their first peeuish prophet and founder for 700 yeeres space ; whereunto is annexed a com- pendious Chronycle of all their yeerely exploytes from the sayde Mahomet's time tyll this present yeere of grace 1575. Drawen out of Augustint Curie, and sundry other good Authours by Thomas
Newtoji,
S9
Newton. Imprinted at London by William How, for Abraham Feale, 1575. Colophon. Imprinted at London hy William How for Abraham Veale dwelling in Paules Churchyard, at the signe of tl^e Lambe, 1575. 4^0. Fo. 144, without preface, t^c.
This compiled translation is the performance of Thomas Newton the poet, and dedicated *' to the Ryghte Honorable the Lorde Charles Howarde, Baron of Effyngham, and Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter," with a lion rampant in a circle of the garter, back of the title. "The authour's preface" describes " this whole hlstorye breeflye comprysingc the whole discourse of their raignes and conquestes, collected asvvell out of many Greeque, Constantinopo- litan and Latine authours, as out of the Chronicles of the Arabians and Moors is deuided into three bookes. The firste containcth the natiuitie, education, raigne and continuance of dotynge Mahomet and the begin- ning of the Saracens, with the successe and increase of their empire euen tyll it was at the highest for two hundreth yeeres space. The seconde is contynued from the fyrst inclynation tyll the beginning of the destruc- tion and last ende thereof, contayninge also the space of two hundreth yeeres. The third breefly compre- hendeth the final end of it, and the original beginning of the Turkishe empire, (which succeeded the Sara- cenical domination) till Othoman, the first Emperour of Turks, which intreatcth of their acts, for the space of three hundreth yeeres/'
The following extract from the second book Is of a period the most productive for the fables of romance
and
so
and displaying feats of chivalry. It is a brief account of the battle of Roncevalles.
** When he [Charles] was returned home agayne into Fraunce, some write that there came out of i^phrica, one Aigoland, sent from the high Duke of the Aphrican Saracens, (who kept his scat royall at Alarrocco) with a mighty army to recouer all such lownes and places as Charles had taken in Spaine; with whom there were many other princes, potentats, and valyaunt personages; and that Charles (after many combates, darraigned and foughfen with hym hand to hand beinge thereunto by hym chalenged and prouokcd), fought abloudy battayle with hym atBaion, a citie of Vasconia, wherein were slayne 400000 Chris- tians, and among them Myles Anglese, father to Rou- land, a stout gentleman and a hardy, who had the leadinge and wa^ generall of the whole army. Not- withstanding, all was regained by the puyssance and prowesse of Charles, and other fresh ayd that then came euen in the nicke out of Italy to succour the Frenchman in that distresse. Insomuch that -^goland priuyly fled and conueighed himselfe away.
*'But not long after, hauinge repaired his army with a supply of moe souldiours, ^goland againe prouoked Charles into Vasconia, and besieged the citie Gennum, now called Baion, the space of seuen monthts, and departing thence was in the borders of Xantongue in a cruell battel ouerthrowen, after which discomfiture he fled back againe into Spaine. And how that Charles (because he would at length bring his Spanish warres to an end) with a greater army then any afore, ^tred into Spaine, where after many light skirmishes,
he
31
he slew ^gola~d in a notable battell ; after which vic- torie he brought vnder his subiection and rule ahnost all Spaine ; with many moe forged reportes and mere fables of some aduoutched, all which, for the vntruth and vnlykelyhood therof we do heere pretermit; but if any be desirous to see them, let them reade Turpine bysshoppe of Rhcimes, to whom also I do referrc you, for the trueth of this which we haue here last recited; for we do not fynde in any of those credible and ap- proued wryters whyche wee folowe, that Charles made any moe voyages against theSaracenes into Spaine but one, nor that they euer entred into Fraunce during his raigne. But this is manifest, that Alphonsus, kyng of Asturia, mooued with the famous renowne of his noble actes and inuincible valiaunce, and for the common weale of his kingdome and subiectcs, because he had no children of his ownc, and saw that the power of that onely region was farre vnhable to bcare out and main- taine continuall warres wyth the Saracens, offered vnto him secretely by trustie messengers and ambassadnures the kingdome of Lyons so that he would ayde hym against the king of Corduba, with whom he had then waged warre. Charles accepting this offer and condition, sent ayde vnto hym. Which composition when the nobles and peeres of the realme of Lyon vndcrstoode, they vyere soore displeased and tooke the matter gre- uously, spighting (as commonly in l;ke cases it falleth out) to haue a nation hard vnder theyr noses to bee rulers ouer them, and therevpon they compelled theyr king to starte from his bargaine and vndoe his leacrue. And not scr contented to leaue, purposed also and de- uised which way to di-patch and destroye king Charles »,nd all his army; fearing, lest he seeing hiraselfe thus
deluded
deluded and mocked would reuenge this iniurie done vnto him. Therefore gathering and assembling all the power of the Asturians and Cantabrians together, and sendyng also for ayde to the Saracenes (in secrete wise preuenting Charles) tookeand kept the narowstreightes of the mountaines, where the passage and way lyeth into Spaine by Ronceuall. For Charles was retourned into Fraunce, and was now againe in his way going into Spaine, to reuenge this wrongfull dealing. The armie of Kinoj Charles was the~ at the foote of the Pyrenee mountaines on that side next Fraunce, in the valley (yet called Hospita) when there came newcs vnto them, that the Spaniardes were comming, in warlike manner against him along by the valley called at this day Charles Valley, which was a faire plaine cha~paine. Therefore diuiding his hoast into three battailes, by the fraudulent and traiterous cou~saile of Galero" (or as some cal him Gane) who*" the enemies had corrupted with money, he appointed Rouland, his nephew, by his sister, (commonly called of the vulgar sort Orland) Duke of Little Britaine, a vallaunt gentle- ma~ and a hardy, to leade the vanwarde, wherein he placed al the noble states anH peeres of Fraunce : in the second battaile, he placed innumerable gentleme" and noble personages; and he himself with the third (wherin was the traitour Galero") taried stil in the campe, commaunding Orland with the vauntgard to aduaunce himself forward. The Spanish army was embattailed in Ronceuall, expecting their combing; vpon whom the fronte of the French hoast geuing the onset was at the first brunt so handled (for the Spany- ardes had gotte the vpper grou~d and al the strait pas- sages) that they were in worse case which escaped their
haadsy
S3
hands, the" they which were slaui outright in fighting j for they dyed and were quickly out of pain, but the other fleeing through thicke and thinne among the stones and craggy ehues and faUing down fro" high rockes, had their linimes broke", and so continued for a lo~ger seaso~ in extreme tormente and agonies. Thus, Rouland and all his traine being wearied, what with diming vp the hill, and what with the waight of their armour were easely killed and brought to confusio". After the same maner also was the second battaile ha~dled, wherin were the 12 peeres of FraiTce, in whose power it is to create the king and decide al waightie causes of the realme.
** Charles still abode in the valleye, which for this cause is to this day called Charles' Valley, whyther he had remoued his campe out of Hospita; who, vnder- standinge of the great ouerthrow and losse of his men, retyred with all speede againe into Fraunce."
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. Vr. Vieima. Noe art^ can cure this hart. Where in is storied y' valorous atchieuements, fa- mous triumphSj constant loue, greate miseries^ and finall happines, of the well-deseruing, truly nolle and most valiant k', S''. Paris of Vienna, and y\ most admired amiable Princess the f aire Vienna. London: Printed for Richard Hawkins, and are to he sould at his shop neere Sarjeants Inne in Chancery lane. ^to. pp. 180. n. d.
This romantic novel is considered scarce. The
above title is engraved by Gifford on a shield, sur-
VOL. VIII. D mounted
34
mounted by a heart and trophy; the hero and heroine full size, uniting their hands under the direction of Love, with other devices incident to the work, and afterwards minutely described in eight couplets. Four commendatory poems follow from the several pens of lo. Mat. and Ralph Egnirawniam, and six lines sub- scribed *' your kinsman, brother-in-law, and friend, Richard MynshuU."
From the type it appears to have been printed early in the seventeenth century. A character having the power of enchantment, so materially necessary in form- ing a legitimate romance, is wanting; but every page is pregnant with adventures and fictions of splendid tournaments and fearful battles, or teems with the wailings of suffering love and cruel disappointment. The feats of Sir Pai is are numerous, and would have entitled him to an honorary seat at Arthur's round table had he flourished at that period. The precise time at which the author means to place his history is the nearest ascertained by the following passage.
** Fortune, that wayted (though yet a farre off) on Paris unknowne merit, gave him a befitting occasion to doe Vienna (though still covertly) more pleasing and more glorious service. For there had lately falne out in the French court a great contention, betwixt the native barons and some severall noble forraigners, that then for their pleasures followed that court in honour of the king. The controversy was, whether was most fairer or the more vertuous of these three ladies ; \a.- lentia, the great Duke of Burbon's daughter; Vienna, the Dauphin's sole heyre of Viennoys ; or the Lady Margaret, sister to the King of England." To decide this important question the French King " com- manded
55
manded that a solemne and royall lusts (in honour of the three ladies) should be proclaimed throughout all his kingdome to be holden in Paris, at Pentecost fol- lowing free for all commers." On the appointed day *' Aurora no sooner shewed her morning's blush, hut that the French King, ashamed of his sluggishnesse, rose and rid to see the three high artificiall mounts, which he had caused to be erected and made for the three ladies to sit onj who no sooner were come and placed, but that the Duke of Burbon came marching in with a rich garland, made all of orient pearle, hang- ing on a blew banner, with his coate of armes on the other side, and placed it on the mount belonging to Va- lentia, on her left aside. Then followed the Daulphin of Viennois with a rich coller of esses, beset all over with rubies, hanging on a white banner, with his armes displayed on the other side, and plac'd it on Vienna's mount, on the right hand of his daughter. Then came England's royall king, with an imperiali crowne of burnisht gold, set with Indian diamonds and blew saphirs, supported betwixt two regall lyons hang- ing on a red banner, and plac'd it on the middle mount before his sister the Lady Margaret." Hither Sir Paris comes disguised, and, as cuntomary, triumphs in obtaining the crown of artificial lilies to be placed oa Vienna's head *' for sole and soveraigne Queene of absolute and matchlesse beauty.'*
The narrative has, occasionally, an attempt at hu- mour, or wit, by an artificial or garbled language of h.df puns, in a quibbling repetition of words of similar sound, but varied meaning. There are some pieces of poetry interspersed, of which the following is sufficient
specimen.
X> 2 " Sleepe,
" Slecpe, sleepe, O slcepc ! swcete lady sleepe, Cloud not your beau;y with blacke care j
Cares doe consume, griefe hath no grace Your graces griefe, weares beauty bare.
Then slecpe, O sleepe, sweete lady sleepe.
Let me, ah mcj your sorrowes keepe.
Sigh not at all, all is in vaine.
In vainc are sighes ; sighes doe confound : Times hane their turnes, turne then your teares.
Your woe, with woe my heart dolh wound. Then sleepe, O sleepe, sweete lady sleepe. Your slaue alone for ydu will weepe!
O cruell dame, Loue's second choise,
Ochoise the change of Nature's loue, O Loue forlornc, slaue vnto time.
O time cbrrupt, vertues remoue ; Why trouble you her quiet sleepe. Since I for her doe daily weepe.
Sleepe, sleepe, O sleepe I faire lady sleepe. Your sorrowes haue all sorrowes spent,
Hope doubt hath slaine, dead is dispaire. And Loue will crowne you with content.
Then sleepe, O sleepe, sweet lady sleepe,
No cause there is why you should weepe."
In the title are two small shields, one having a blazing star dexter chief and nine cross crosslets, pearl ; the other two bars surmounted with a lozenge, and alluded to in the last couplet describing the title:
" If that the barres were red and scutch'on white. The coatte would shove who did this story write."
At the conclusion of the story is another couplet
which
37
which, in an Mn\gm2i, gives the name, as I conceive, of Man-war- ring. *
s
" The image of God, the wrath of Mars, and pledge of
nuptiall rites. Records his name, that for his friend, this trivial! toy
did write."
The friend was, probably, his brother-in-law^ Mvn- shull, whose lines finish
•' ' with thankes for this thy well wrote story.
Though mine it is; yet thine shall be the glory."
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. VII. The Xiii bukes of Eneados of the fa- mose Poete Virgill. Tmnslatet out of Lalyne ver- ses into Scottish metir, hi the Reuereyul fathei- in God, Mayster Gawiii Douglas, Bishop of Dunkel, is' vnkil to the Erie of Angus. Every hike hauing hys perticnlar prologe. Imprinted at Londo"* ii?3. b. ]. Ccclxxxi leaves. Fo.
This is the first edition of a work generally known by the more valuable republication of Ruddiman in 1 710. The name of Gawin Douglas, with specimens of his poetry, must be in the possession of every reader; \ shall therefore only add, to assist in perfect- ing early copies (according to the suggestion of Her- bert) a collated transcript of the last leaf.
* The strange signature to the first three induction poems reversed, (Muinwaringe) appears to establish this suggestion of the author's n«ttie.
D 3 *■' Ane
* 3
38
** Ane exclamacion aganis defractouris and uncurtase redaris, that bene ouer studious y hut occasiouji, to note and spye outfaltis, or offensis, in this volume or any vthir thrifty iverkis.
" Now throw the depe fast to the porte I merk. For here is cndit the lang disparit werk. And Virgil has his volume to me lent : In souir raid now ankerit is our werkcj We dout na storrae, our cabillis ar sa sterk j We haue eschapit, full mony pcrrellis went; Now God belouit has, ac grace till vs sent. Sen Virgil beis wyde quhare, in Latine soung. Thus be my laboure red in vulgare toung.
But quhat dangere is ocht, to compile allace. Her and thir detractouris in till euery place, Or cuer thay rede the werk, biddis birn the buke. Sum bene sa frawart in malice and wangrace Quhat is wele sayd thay loif not worth ane ace, Bot castis thame euir to spy out fait and cruke, Al that thay fynd in hiddillis, hirne, and nuke, Thay blaw out, sayand, in euery mannis face, Lo here he failzeis, lo here he leis, luke.
Bot gif I le lat Virgin be our iadge. His werk is patent, I may haue na refuge : Thareby go not, my faltis one be one No wounder is the volume is sa huge, Quhay mycht perfectly, al his hie termes luge In barbare language, or thame deulie expone Bot wele I wate of his sentence wantis none Quha can do bettir lat se, quhare I foruayit Begyn of new, al thing is gude vnassayit.»
' • Conclusion of the rage.
Fer
39
Fer ethar is quha list, syt doun and mote
Ane vthir sayaris faltis to spye and note
Than but offence or fait thame self to w[rjytc
Bot for to chyde sum bene so birnand bote
Bald thay thare pece the word wald skald thare throte.
And has sic custom, to jangil and bakbitc.
That bot thay schent sum thay suld birst for site:
I say no more, quhen al thare rerd is roung
That wicht mon speik, that can not hald his toung.
Go vulgare Virgil, to euery churl iche wycht Say, 1 auow, thou art translatit richt. Beseik al nobillis the correct and amend } J Beis not effrait to cum in prisaris sicht. The nedis not to eschame for thy licht. For I haif brocht thy purpois to gude end- Now sal thou with euery gentil Scot be kend. And to vnletteryt folk be red on hicht. That erst was bot with clerkis comprehend. Finis."
" To knaw the name of the Translator.
" The Gaw vnbrokin mydlit with the wine. The Dow ioned with the glas, richt in ane lyne. Quha knawis not the translatouris name Seik no forther, for lo wyth lytil pyne Spye leile this vers, men clepis him sa at hamc. Finis."
Conduit street, J. H.
D 4 Art.
40
Art. VIII. Further Remarks on the Third Ueport of the Commissioners for New Roads in Scotland. See Vol. FII. p. J 7.
TO THE EDITOR Of CENSURA LITERARIA.
Having, ia a former letter, shewn from what ad- mirable and authentic sources of iriformation the Cora- missioners of New Roads in Scotland had derived, in their third report to Parliament, the account given there of the survey of Scotland, now in his Majesty's library, begun in 1747, and of the manner in which it was formed, as stated and edited apparently by those very profound scientific men, who were consulted concerning corrections necessary to be made in that survey; yet although justice thus has been done by them, in a learned manner, to some of the labours and difficulties which occurred in executing that work, they have, nevertheless, noticed only a very small por- tion of the various labours, difficulties, obstructions, unfortunate events, privations and starvations, which impeded the business and helped to produce those er- rors, so kindly undertaken, to be corrected by them. It may, therefore, be acceptable to such persons as are fond of reading books of travels, to be still further in-* formed concerning the nature of that arduous under- taking, and of the events which occurred in its execu- tion, which helped also to stimulate still more the zeal and patience of the surveyors in the prosecution of a work altogether an unique of its kind in the history of the world. Such a minute relation of the many hair- breadth escapes they encountered, may, at least, palliate jf not altogether excuse their filings, and perhaps may
inducg
41
induce others to condole with them in their misfortune of not having obtained more feclii^g judges of their case than such as sit high in professional chairs and meeting* of Commissioners, with good dinners and bottles of wine before them every day; the variations of which are m(»re interesting than the variations of the magnetic meridian, and both n^ore pleasantly to he comprehended and digested than the difference beiwcen cast and west bearings.
It must, in truth, be confessed, that the survey of all the highlands of Scotland was an arduous task, in which greater abilities were found requisite, than even the Commissioners seem to have suspected, if we may judge by the specimen they have mentioned of there being a necessity to call in Lieut. Roy to assist in con- necting together what had never been unconnected: but z.% finis coronal opus, so it may be truly said with Horace, that the task thereby laid on their shoulders was no less than ex firmo et finno dare liiccm; which means, in plain English, that it was no easy matter either to find or see their way through that wilderness so as happily to come out of it without loss of limbs, after being up to their knees all day for whole months together in wet moss, and bogs, and dirt, their noses offended with filth, their eyes red and blind with the smoke of peat-firing, their skms punctured with don)i- ciliated insects more certainly alive than the magnetic .needle, and their stomachs always craving with little hope of being satisfied, except with what some or other of their senses would reject; in fine, their state was only somewhat short of the miserable case of Tantalus; for, to themisery of having nothing to appease a craving appetite, they had not, indeed, that other misery addtd,
like
42
like him, of seeing before them good things which they would wish to eat, without being able to obtain them; as I am confidently informed by the relations of those inexperienced young men who were concerned, to their sorrow, in that experiment of trying what might be done by dint of persevering labour, without any other recompence than to have it afterwards said that it has been well done. Yet the learned Commissioners have now deprived them even of this consolatory commen- dation, ever since they found out the hitherto undis- covered secret, that the variations of the magnetic needle in Scotland are so great as to alter even the di- rection of the pole itself: and this, I presume, they have set forth in their report to Parliament, as a speci- men qf the other important discoveries to be contained in the memoir which is to be published by their asso- ciated professors. >
They have, however, said nothing in commendation , of the politic conduct of the assistant quarter- master- jgencral, their countryman, of his very kind speeches, shrewd grins of satisfaction and flattering promise?, which served, like oil, to make the machine work the better, until he had himself obtained all the grists of the mill, and left to the others all the fatigue of work- ing it in a reputable way; and even of this advantage the Commissioners and their associates have now at- tempted to deprive them, with great credit and a con- spicuous display of their own superior abilities.
The whole scene reminds me of a c^se which hap- pened in a campaign in Flanders, when a breach having been made in a besieged town, an officer marched briskly at the head of his men to the attack of it, but when arrived at the foot of the breach he
turned
43
turned about, pulling off his hat, with a low bow to his followers, and saying, " Well done, my brave lads, there is the breach, and there is the enemy, march on as briskly as before and fear nothing. I will now go behind in order to see you safe up and shew you the way J our noole commander will reward ns all." He accordingly lived to receive the reward; the rest lost either their limbs or their lives.
It may possibly afford some amusement to yonr readers if in like manner I give a minute relation of some of the adventures, distresses, and catastrophes, of those young surveyors who wandered almost as many summers in the highland wilderness as the Israelites sojourned in the desert of Sin ; and the Commissioners also, themselves, will hereby see that there were more and greater difficulties to encounter than those arising from the variations of the magnetic meridian. Now their first difficulty respected that sustenance which is the s aff of life, and also the preservation of their lives, it being necessary that they should come out alive from among the many impending rocks, the bogs and mosses, in order to be able to tell of the various wonders which they saw among them, as well as of their own sorrows, and the causes of them.
It was not known by them, at first, that by the cabins of the inhabitants being covered only with divotSy that is, flags, consisting of the roots of grass and heather, the rain would make its way through them in stormy weather; hence, the first morning after the surveyors entered among those stupendous mountains, on awaking they found their hands and sleeves covered with black spots like ink ; they were frightened at the sight and considered it as a prodigy of ill omen to them,
like
44
like the storm of frogs in Egypt; but still more when on turning their faces to heaven to say their prayers as they laid in bed, they soon found their mouths and eyes filled with a black rain, which seemed to confirm to them that they had got into the kingdom of the devil J further examination, however, of the room and canopy over their heads, for cieling it had none, at length calmed their fears, but suggested the prudent step, however, never afterwards to pray in bed with their mouths open.
On viewing also the neighbouring apartments to their bed room, thev found themselves to be separated only by a broken partition of wicker work from the habitation of the cows and other animals, who now began to salute the rising sun with a variety of pleasant noises; the calves and cows lowed alternately, the goats and sheep bleated, the pigs grunted, and all the bed- fellows thus joined in a concert of music, by which they proved themselves to be as hungry as the travellers began now to be themselves; but on inquiring for the larder they found it to be at the opposite end sf the cabin, into which none are admitted btit the mistress herself; it is called Ben, the house, an abbreviation, I suppose, of behind the house; but I assure yoii it was nota Cloacina, although containingagood collection of nosegays; this is the store room for all the family: here the good wife deposits all her dainties, her butter and cheese, milk and whey, barley bannocks, goat- hams, and also near the sea haddocks dried in the sun over the steam of a dunghill to give them a relish, which the store room itself does not diminish. Here also are deposited all her own trinkets of ornament, together with the dirty linen of the family, her own
tattered
45
tattered petticoats, and her husband's best trowsers and breeches, when he has any. This is, in fine, the sanctum sanctorum of the family, which the good wife guarded with as jealous an eye from the soldiers^ who accompanied the surveyors, as Cerberus watched the banks of the river Styx: but it was soon found, how- ever, that a few halfpence would turn the key of the store-room, just as a good sop is said to stop easily that hell-dog's barking; and thus, when the husband was absent, a bason of milk might be obtained, if wanted, by such gentle insinuations. These, however, were only the unlicensed fees of office, and such as are not disdained by the chief butlers and bakers of Pharaoh in his more extensive government. Yet, in truth, if not urged by necessity in a very hot dav, one ought to be rather paid for drinking the milk, than to buy it, as it had always swimming on the surface a plentiful crop of blacks from the smoky roof, together with straws and hairs, some from the cows and others from the maids, as they often were forced to scratch their heads over the milk pail for want of combs, and there was generally urgent necessity for such scratch- ings.
Time and thirst, however, soon brought their sto- machs to, and the soldiers were ingenious in discover- ing a method to prevent this dirty mess from descend- ing into their throats, which was by dipping the upper lip and nose very deep into the dish of milk, after wiping their own nose, and those of their companions, and thus they inhaled the liquid only from below: by this means the above delicacies fHoatinsi; on tlie surface were stopped in their progress by gathering round about the nose, where they formed a circle of various
qolours
46
colours like a halo about the moon. Goat's milk, however, has a very rank taste, as well as sirong smell j especially as from the necessary method of milking the goals from behind, some additions are often made to the liquor, while the milk maid holds up the goat's tail in her mouth; but hungry dogs will eat dirty pudding. The paynients made for these regales were always seen to be put into a privy purse tied close under her petticoat before, as is the purse of the men likewise ; and untutored nature seems to have suggested this cau- tious mode of keeping all privy and precious articles close together; yet some of the satirical soldiers said it was done in order to tell them what more might be had for money. With these fees of office the good wife buys a new broach to keep her plaid together, or to pay for a jug of whiskey, when some of her old cronies in the neighbourhood come to visit her, for although the men will sit in a circle for hours together talking of news, drinking whiskey out of a horn cup, and treatinc; one another with snufF out of a ram's horn, yet they judge that spring water is the best liquor for women to keep them cool and chaste. As the pin-money thus obtained for the, wife's own use was profitable and conducive to her private views, so it was still more eminently useful and refreshing to those weary travellers in a sultry day, who otherwise could procure nothing else to drink than spring water along with the women, (as whiskey burnt their mouths and increased their thirst:) but the grant of a bason of milk was too often confined to the surveyors alone as an honorary present, and a child was generally sent with the soldiers to shew them the best spring, accom- panied with the loan of a dirty can. They, however,
preferred
47
preferred another method, which the examples of the tiatives had taught them, and which was to lie down flat on their bellies and suck up the element with their mouths quite fresh as it issued from the earth, and just as cows and horses drink. It must, in truth, be allowed, that spring water so drank is superexcellentj and, indeed, the only good thing in the country, except in salmon season; it is also as plentiful as excellent; so that I believe it to be habit alone which makes men pay high for wine and strong Ijquors, or else from their having never tasted the luxury of such spring water in a hot day, just as many never saw the natural beauty of a rising sun.
As to provisions they never could discover there any eateable which engaged their affection so much as the above liquid element. The venison is of the red-deer kind, and both strong and seldom to be obtained ; the roebucks as seldom, they being very shy and quick- sighted, so as not easily shot, except at the edges of woods in an evening, when they come out of cover to feed, but as quickly run in again : hence the soldiers used to ask, when any of their companions were absent late at night, whether they had been to shoot a roebuck or a highland lass, as both of them always hastily ran to the cover in an evening when pursued, they being as shy as the roebucks by day light.
The chief food consisted eternally of capper, cap- per, capper, that is, of thin oat biscuit, which stuck in their throats even with clieese and butter; and yet the natives as f^imiliarly invite a friend to come and eat a capper with them, or to take an egg, as in England to eat a piece of mutton with them. As the Scotch are all said to be lar/ied, ih'is seems one proof of it, for the
loast
:#
least instructed of the natives could inform iheiii that capper was a Latin word preserved in the highlands ever since the time of the Romans from Caper a he- goat ; and, indeed, one should think there was some truth in this, as it is not to be found in Shaw's Gaelic Dictionary, nor yet in Lhuyd's Irish Dictionary ; but jtwas not clearly comprehended bow a he-goat produces cheese and butter, yet, possibly, the Commissioners may be able to give as good an account of this as of the magnetic meridian.
Sometimes, however, the natives offered the variety of another dish, which they called sowins} this is a brown jelly made by steeping bran in water until it turns sour, and is then eaten with a little milk, which was only a change from rank to sour; they, therefore, preferred goat-cheese, though full of hairs, and not a little strong; whether these were the hairs of that ani- mal, or some of Pope's hairs left in sight, they did not examine, from their length or coarseness : but as the foxes and hares of that country have very thick coats of hair given by nature to preserve them in the severity of winter, so it was observed that the milkmaids had very long and thick brushes on their heads, intended, doubtless, by nature to preserve their constitutional warmth in a cold climate : it is no wonder then that these were profusely scattered into every thing.
Once, however, they had another variety offered to them; for one morning a man came almost out of breath to say that they might now be able to purchase some fresh meat, for he had observed that the gentle- men travellers bought old stale eggs, old dried fish, old hens, and old women, for want of younger things, but he could now procure them something quite young —
« mil
49
'* Well, friend, what is itP" '' Why, a young calf.'' " How old is it r"* '' Oh, not above a day old, and I din'ney ken whether it was born alive.'' " Oo't away, oo't away, maunj" says their Highland guide (who al- ways made himself interpreter also) *' the maun means, gem'men, a slinked calf, and in gude troth it be unky gude ating, if well dressed, in its own waters."
The experiment, however, was not tried ; and some better hope was excited on being told, that at the houses in view was a public house, which they call a change- house, in expectation of obtaining a little beer; but that name is given very improperly, for they found there no change at all, no beer, and nothing but whis- key and capper, capper, was sold there, which might, indeed, be changed for their money. The good wife, however, told them kindly, that If they would stay all night she would brew them some beer in her iron kettle : but the weather was fine and could not be lost; for never was the proverb more true than there, that hay must be made while the sun shines; since fre- quently after a fine morning the white clouds might be seen skimming along the sides of the distant moun- tains, and when they came nigh, most certainly deluged the whole valley with a flood ; their chief rains being in the middle of summer, which helped, indeed, to cool the air, but impeded the surveying operations, and too often caught them, where they could obtain no other shelter than a rock or a shattered pine tree.
The common sign for a change-house is every where alike ; no change in that any more than in capper, and consists of only an old broom stuck upon a broomstick, and fixed up at one end of the house until the wind blows it down. The cabin itself is always also of VOL. VIII. s the
50
the same construction as the others, the walls being only stones piled upon one another without any ce- ment, so that the wind blows through every hole be- tween them ; for which reason and many others which were both felt, smelt, and seen, the surveying parties preferred their tents, which they always carried with them, and pitched on some dry spot of grass at night; except when the wind was high, which generally rushed with such violence through narrow rallies, as soon to overset those temporary towers of Babel, and leave them exposed naked at midnight to the wind and rain, and the weather was always very changeable and de- ceitful. In these cases they were forced to take shel- ter, if it may be so called, in the neighbouring cabins, or become friendly associates to their cattle till the storm was over; but on the west coast it often rains every day for two months together, in the middle of summer, attended with storms of wind.
These misfortunes, however, gave an opportunity of seeing the decorations of those cabins within, the fire of which is in the middle with a small hole at top, for such smoke to escape, as does not come out at the low door, after taking a whirl quite round the house; but there was little room found for wet strangers to dry themselves, and as little fire, the family silting close round it, like so many cats on their bums : sometimes, indeed, a stone of honour was kept in the cabin for the master of it, or to be offered to strangers to sit on, as a hospitable kind of arm chair, and afterwards to serve for their pillow at night. The darkness of night, however, and the artificial darkness caused by the smoke, the ingenuity of the natives have found out a method to illumine, in some degree, by means of natu- ral
Si
ral candles, which ever since the time of the Romans have laid hid in their peat-mosses; for their vioods being then burnt down, the pine trees have ever since laid at length immersed in those mosses, aid are now become so much like touch-wood, that by shivering off slices of them they serve in the place of candles, with the assistance of one of the children, who take it in turns to be candlesticks : for by holding a shiver of that fir wood in each hand, and lighting at the fire the opposite ends, they raise a blaze; which is constantly- kept up by the child's breaking off the little burnt ends, by rubbing one end against the other, and thus renewing the blaze.
The operation of making oat cakes for capper was also found to be by flattening the dough with the hands into round and thin cakes like pan-cakes, and then drying them over the fire in a thin plate of iron, called the girdle. After having the first time seen this operation, a soldier was always placed sentry for the future over the maid, who made the cakes, in order to discover whether she had not got the itch between her fingers. Sometimes, mdeed, the soldiers were able to buy a ha!f starved Bheep, for which they paid three or four shillings, and divided it among them to be broiled over their next fire; but the sheep are so starved in winter that no good mutton is to be had until near Michaelmas ; and this was the only fle*h meat that was ever tasted for six months together, unless when the surveyors could buy an old hen, or were invited to some Laird's house to partake of a roast fowl.
It is certain, however, that notwithstanding all these privations the parties did return after many hair- breadth escapes, without the loss either of lives or limbs, E 2 . but
5^
but as certainly they did only just live and vegetate- With respect to sleep, indeed, they fared better ; foF fatigue always brought on balmy sleep and pleasant dreams, and although not on soft beds of down, yet at least on sweet ones, when they slept in their tents; for they soon learnt from the natives the luxury of sleeping there on beds made of heather, rather than the beds at the change-houses, to be scarified in the morn- ing with fleas and lice, unless when forced into those hovels by storms of wind and rain: oh, the sweet beds of flowery heather, which never obstructed that restorer of the human frame, balmy sleep, and the oblivion of all former sorrows and fatigues ! It was able even to say peace to the cravings of a hungry stomach until the morning came, and capper came again ! except that blessing of sound sleep at night, they tasted of no other in thfe day time, unless the tea and sugar which they carried always along with them, and which the pure spring water heightened into a luxury. These were the two panaceas, which made them forget both past ca- lamities and present ailments; for in hot weather tea kept until cold was the best and only draught, which they could depend upon obtaining to allay their thirst, and which they always carried in a bottle, as others do cordials; and after their being wet, if it was made hot again it became a sovereign preventive of colds.
But there is great dexterity, however, required In making up beds of heather, which deserves a patent more than any medical nostrums, and which consists in keeping all the small flower)' ends upon the top of the bed, and squeezing down the coarser and harsher ends into the bottom ; and such were the only luxuries enjoyed by the surveyors ! And now ye dainty epicures
„ Qf
S3
of London, travelled coxcombs, haranguing over French dishes, ye chairmen of city feasts and corporation din- ners, with napkins tucked under your chins, who search the East and West Indies for poignant sauces to give relish to your languid stomachs, oppressed with fulness and heavy port-wine j who send to the ends of the world for tasteless turtle, and pretend ecstatic joy at the sight of domestic cod if crimpt alive, or lobsters roasted at a slow fire, until they shriek out in vain for pity from man; if ye did but know the luxury of a draught of fresh spring water after the fatigue of a long walk, in a hot day, over sharp rocks, or mosses, which shake under one, with wet and sore feet from morning to night, one's face either scorched with the sun or else drizzled over with a soaking mist; if ye did but know how sweet is repose of body on a knoll of grass, all stretched at ease beside a bubbling spring of cooling refreshment, under the shade of an old weather-beaten tattered pine tree, which has braved many a storm in order now to afford cover from the sviltry sun, then would ye know the great difference between the natu- ral enjoyments of human life, and the pretended arti- ficial ones of senses benumbed by plenitude, between the real substance and the mere name of pleasure !
Sometimes, however, the surveying parties came to little nests of buildings which they call towns, three or four of which are forced to club together to send one member to Parliament, just as nine tailors make a man. Here they expected to find more comfortable change- houses, but still scarce any change at all for the better; their motto is every where semper idem ; for although in some things they were, indeed, varied, yet no effec- jtual change J even the tents and beds of heather we E 3 still
54
still regretted to preserve one from the fairies; the dishes of provision, however, were a little different, though still no flesh meat but starved mutton. One - dish offered up was called a haggis j being a kind of thin pudding put into the guts of animals, and much of the same colour and smell as the original contents. Anoiher was black sheep's-head broth; not that the sheep there have naturally black faces like the Norfolk sheep, but they are sent to the blacksmith's shop to have the hair singed off with hot irons, which renders them black, and hence the broth has the taste of singed hair, or burnt woollen cloth, which is considered there as a haut-gout. Another dish was frightened chicken Iroth. A great alarm was one day caused at hearing all the landlord's yard in an uproar, master and mis- tress, men, maids, and children, running about helter skelter, the hens screaming, ducks quacking, dogs barking, men hallooing, maids squeaking, children clapping their hands like mad devils; at first it was thought that the house was on fire or hell broke loose, but it soon appeared that they were only in chase of an old hen, whose screams proclaimed her capture, and so the chase ended. She was soon cut into small pieces, and boiled with Scotch barley, and some eggs broken into the liquor with chopped kale, a kind of sprout, and thus broth made of the whole. It was said that the chase would help to make the hen eat tender, just as in England they bait bulls for the same purpose; but it was with difficulty that the flesh of the old yel- low dame could be picked from the bones, and this they call chicken broth.
The principal change found in these towns was in the signs of the change-houses j for, instead of an old
broomsiickj
,S5
broomstick, the whole side of a house was here trans- formed into a sign, being painted over with diverse devises symbolic of meat and drink. On one place was painted a large bottle with the beer squirting out high, and after forming a monstrous arch, like a rain- bow, it fell into a drinking glass placed to receive it; in another part was a large black kettle with a piece of beef sticking out of the top of it, &c.
It must be confessed that these signs were more ap- propriate than a broomstick, the rooms being never swept; and the only thing blameable was to find that Puff has his houses there as well as in London; for on being invited in by the sight of boiling beef, nothing was found within but still capper, capper, and the beer was also as small and vapid as the sign was large and witty — nothing but capper and small beer being to be procured there. No company was found in the house except that impudent fellow Puff, who was just arrived from London in his post chaise and four, and had seated himself by the kitchen fire in his arm chair, smoking his pipe, and giggling at the travellers being so nicely taken ih by his stratagems: as they went away, vexed at the disappointment, Puff cried, in an upbraiding tone, " that he thought Englishmen knew better than to expect more except just to see boiled beef here, without tasting it ; for they eat so much of it in England that none was to be had any where else in Europe — the apology was not more agreeable than the disappointment."
They were entertained however, here, by the ap- proach of a public crier of lost goods: his first cry was *' I let ye to v.it, that there was tint yestreen a twa year old shealtrie," and so on, describing the marks. His next cry was " I let ye to wit, that there was tint E 4 yestreen
5«
yestreen a whe bit she bearniej she had on a blue coat, »nd under her small rnutch were to be seen a few red hairs between her twa lugs." It was wished to have this cry interpreted, but they were afraid to ask the landlady, lest it should put her to the blush ; but the highland guide coming past at that instant, it was iound that ?L mutch meant nothing but a cap on her head, with a few red hairs under it between her ears. Here ^Iso they met with a novel kind of ferry boat, which entertained them much ; there being an adjacent river, without any bridge, the highland girls hire themselves out to carry passengers over on their backs when the water is high. After having made your bargain you get up with your arms round her neck ; she then very dexterously pulls up her coats, which she tucks up in a huge bundle before her, and without any fear of the open air, wind, or water, trots cross the stream with a staff in one hand while the other stands guard over her bundle before; so that if the load on her shoulders should extend his hand (which is against the law of the land) the protuberance before is so large that he could not reach beyond that bundle, Necessity is said to he the mother of invention, and has here found out un- thought-of advantage in the dress of women above that of men, as by the above natural method pursued nothing is wetted which is the worse for being washed, for shoes and stockings they never wear : except, indeed, when they go to kirk on a Sunday, and then they are carried in the hands until near the kirk, where they sit down on a knoll of grass and put on their sandals, to which place they again repair after kirk to pull them off, and go home barefoot. The surveying parties were once invited to a wedding and dance, and the same mode
was
37
was practised there also j for after the dance was over, each partner attended his lass to the nearest green spot, and helped her to pull off her shoes and stockings before she returned home. If such frugal ways were observed in England so many men would not be ruined by their wives' extravagance; and if Puft' had not writ about what he did not understand I should have never made known these good examples set by the daughters of Eve in the north.
P. S. I have since found that Shaw, in his Gaelic Dictionary, does mention capper, but he spells it Cea~ paire; and as his next word is Ceapalraniy to spread upon, or daub, he seems to conceive this latter verb to have given origin to Ceapaire, a piece of bread and butter. So that the lamed derivation of it from the Latin Caper, a he-goat, can be only one of Puffs in- ventions, with which he first puffed up the Scotch, and then imposed upon the English traveller, as if it had been derived from Latin 2000 years ago.
Fact and Hunger against Puff and Luxury.
Art. IX. Defects of modern Criticism,
TO THE EDITOR OF CENSURA LITERAKIA.
It has been shewn, in my last letter, thatBarthelemy has distributed all Jewish coins into three classes, 1. Those which he conceives to be attended with $oms evidence of their having been coined by Simon
Maccabee.
55
Maccabee. 2. Those which were certainly not coined before the reign of Trajan. 3. Those which have no marks whereby it can be ascertained in what age they were coined. It is proposed then to balance the evidence for or against each of these three classes.
Now, as to the third of them, we have to observe, thai Barthelemy hereby acknowledges that the legends and types on many of them will just as well suit with the rebellion under Barcochebas against the Romans as the emancipation of the Jews from the Greeks under Simon the Maccabee: of this nature then is the libe- ration of Israel ^ and also the dates of the first, second, third, and fourth years; for although that rebellion lasted only about four years, yet as Simon did not obtain the right of coinage until near the middle of his reign of eight years, there could not be more than four years also to be dated afterwards by him in case Simon reclaimed them from the first year of coinage, and not from the first of his reign; but as we cannot know which of these two methods he adopted, this circum- stance of the dates, therefore, contains no mark in favour of either age in question in the first and second classes : except that in i Maccab. xiii. 42, and xiv. 27, the dates are from the accession, which makes against these being his coins.
As to the second class it appears that there are only four coins which are known with certainty to belong to it: and in regard to the Jirst class, if we cannot find any mark which can enable us, with equal certainty as in the second class, to determine whether anyone of those coins has a right to be included under the first, then it follows that all the Jewish coins, except the
above
39
above four, ought, in reality, to be included in the third class, and that this distribution, into three classes, is imaginary and delusive. One would have expected, therefore, that Barthelemy would have pointed out .some marks whereby those of ihejirsi class might be d'stiugaislied from the third; yet all that he says on this head is this — *' There are some coins, which, by their fabric (fahrlquej being conformable to the coins of the kings of Syria, in the second century, before Christ, muij go back, fpeuventj so far as to the age of Simon Maccabee; there are others on which the letters are so inverted, disfigured, and transposed, that they seem not to have been struck until the second century after Christ, when the workmen began to be no longer conversant with Samaritan letters."
But all those coins examined by Reland and Ottius, which, if any, they thought to belong to the age of Simon Maccabee, have their letters as much disfigured as any others whatever; for any person, therefore, to pretend that it is possible to distinguish between the disfigurement arising from the incapacity of the artist, and that from the corrosion of time and the deficiencies of parts of letters, by their being worn away, is again all imagination, not any actual and certain marks of difference. It is, in fact, only by comparing several coins together that any of the legends can be deciphered, the letters worn away in one being ascertained bv some other ; and no one legend can be read bv itself alone, as those two authors acknowledge, and Barthelemy also himself: and as to transposition, this is often found even in Greek inscriptions of the best age : but before it can be ascertained that there is only such tmnsposition in these legends, it is necessary to know
what
6o
what the word uould be if written without any. Now this is very difficult to know, as is evident by the dif- ferent words, which Reland and Ottius pretend to read on tlie very same coin, one finding the word Zion where the other finds the Greeks', and still further by the very different words arising from the disjoined letters there found, if differently combined together into words, as appears again from the discordant readings of the above two authors; for one finds a date of 224//* jfear on a coin whtre the other Ruds fourth year only. What the properties are, which Barthelemy includes n-adcr the word falrique, introduces still further uncer- tainty, especially as in anoiher place he calls it module. If the size is one of them, or the chief of the properties included under fabric and model, then so far as has been hitherto ascertained by representations of those coins by Reland and others, it does xK)t appear that the size of those ascribed by them to Simon Maccabee iliffer any way materially from those certainly struck under Trajan; or if there be any difference it has not been pointed out in books, and ought to. be stated more precisely before we can admit that uncertain word fabric, or model, to become a sufficient mark whether it was coined under the Syrian kings, or two hundred years later, under Trajan: so that Barthelemy should have told us by what species of medalijc sagacity he could smell out this difference as to the age in which a coin was struck by means oi\.h<t fabric, as he expresses himself, the meaning of which he ought to have ex- plained, and what are the constituent parts of it; at present it may mean just what any one fancies.
There are, indeed, some coins of a larger size than the rest ; but in general these have been reprobated as
spurious.
6I
■spurious, and if not, yet it is only the difference in the, fabric of the smaller ones, such as those examined by Reland, and those struck under Triijan, on which the determination must depend. Therefore before any con- clusion can be drawn any way from this mark of an- tiquity pointed out above by Barthelemy, a clear ac- count must begivcn, as towhatarticles of fabric the four of Trajan differ from all the rest; and whether any of the remainder differ so much among themselves, that those ascribed by Reland and Ottius, or otiiers, to Simon Maccabee, have a fabric of antiquity clearly different from the rest of them; rcmembring also that even those smaller ones of Reland are of such different weights, if not sizes, that Ottius says, ** some of them weigh half an ounce and a quarter part more, others not quite a fourth of an ounce, others still less." p. 85.
Now amidst such differences as these it would be curious to know what peculiarity in point o^ fabric alone will prove any one of them to be more ancient than the others. Until this be better known the word Jabric seems to mean nothing else than medalic ii7iagi- natioTi', iust as the readinjrs of the leo;cnds sometimes do likewise, although in less degree, as for instance where Reland and Hottinger read the sense of lUic lomim, Ottius finds the name Simeu/i, (p. 83), and Zio?i instead of the Greeks: how can Barthclemy find coins of such different weights to agree all to the fabric of royal Syrian ones ?
But even if such faithful sensations of anti([uity can be acquired by Ipng habit, as shall enable one to dis- tinguish by their yi^^nc such different coins struck at two hundred years from one another; yet why might not Barchochebas, in the reign of Adrian, form coin?,
v/hich
63
which were yet, by accident, only similar to the Jalric of coins by the Syrian kings, while he therein imitated the coins of some of those free cities then existing in Syria, which were chiefly current in Asia; and which free cities might have preserved the fabric of those of the Syrian kings, whose kingdom ended only 170 years before Barcochebas, to which the establishment of free cities succeeded, called aulojioniesy under the protec- tion of the Romans. Now, however these cities might alter the legends and types of royal Syrian coins before current, yet they might preserve the former size, or fabricy and intrinsic value, still the same, for the conve- nience of commerce, together wath other constituent parts of the fabric, whatever these might be 5 and these Barcochebas might imitate for the very same reason, — ■ the convenience of having his own coins become readily current, in order to procure necessaries for his army. His coins, moreover, might not be formed by himself in Judea, but by the Jews, his assopiates^ in different ^axis of Asia; for they were all in commotion from one end of Asia to the other, and even in Egypt and Lybia. Some sent money, and some men, and they would, doubtless, send the money if coined by themselves, in such a form as would make it readily pass current, rather than invent a new and different fabric: but it would be very extraordinary if in all those friendly cities every one of them should, in the space of 170 years, have altogether altered the fabric of the coins issued before under the Syrian kings; or that although coming from such different and distant parts of Asia they should be all alike in fabric, legends, or types. Some of those Jewish coins then having Simon on them might hence resemble^ in fabric, the
coins
63
coins of the Syrian kings, without having been actually struck during the existence of those kings in the second century before Christ; and thus this circum- stance of the similar fabric of the coins does not alanc become a sufficiently distinguishing mark whether they were struck under Simon Maccabee or Simon Barco- chebas, as Barthelemy pretends: and this is the only mark which he mentions as being able to prove that anif one of the coins in question belong to ihcjirst of his three classes, and to Simon Maccabee, not Barcc/- chebas. So that without some better proof, his first and third class ought to be ranged together as being both of them equally doubtful with respect to their age of coinage; and thus there are, in reality, only two classes.
There is, however, another circumstance which, al- though not mentioned by him, may be considered by others as a mark of difference iu point of antiquity, and which is, the great variety of types upon those coins; this may be to indicate that they could not be all of them coined by Barcochebas in the short space of his reign of four years or less ; but must have been struck in several different reigns in the 240 years be- tween Simon Maccabee and Barcochebas. But this mark of difference I have obviated already, since that diversity might have been caused by the coins being stmck by different bodies of Jews, in many different and distant parts of the world, who sent money to the as- sistance of Barcochebas in Judea.
It may, indeed, be still suggested, that not only are the types different, but even Vv'hen the very same objects are represented, such as the pot of manna, or Aaron's rod budding, scarcely any two of them are alike in
form;
64
form ; but this again might be produced by the ve"ry same cause as before; for different persons, in different regions might happen to agree in exhibiting the same sacred utensils on the coins, and yet give them very different forms; since not any one of them might know, in the age of Barcochebas, what the real forms had been, it being then sixty years since those utensils had been carried away toRome by Titus, and exhibited at his triumph there. Nay, such a diversity is more likely to have happened thus under Barcochebas than under Simon Maccabee, for during his last four years of reign, after he had once fixed on a suitable type, what motive could he have for changing it so often in that short space of time? Those which have different types, indeed, may have been formed by some of his successors, but even the same types give different forms lo the same utensils, even when they have all the name of Simon on them, and also have the letters of the same legend differently formed; and sometimes, moreover, one has a letter in the same legend, not found in any other of same type and legend. Thus the fourth letter, in the first of Reland, before the end, is the fifth letter in his second coin, before the end of the same legend; which, if not a mere error of the artist, give* such a different sense as proves it, at least, to be coined in a very distant time from Simon; and if it be an error of the artist only, then it proves that no conclu- sion can be derived from such errors and transpositions in letters concerning the real age of the coinage. No\t such variations as these in the same types, or such di- versity in the types themselves, might just as well be caused by the coins being struck by different bodies of Jews, in different nations, iu the same short reign of
Barcochebas,
63
Barchochebas, as by different artists in different reigns among the successors of Simon : but whenever such diversities appear in coins having the name of Simon on them, they are thus more easily accounted for tinder Barcochebas than under Simon the Maccabee_, or, at least, just as easily ; so that no conclusion can be drawn hence either way toward arranging such coins in different classes, as if formed in different ages. There is one further circumstance, however, which makes rather in favour of all these coins belonging to Barcochebas; this is, that no coins have been found of Johannes Hyrcanus, successor to Simon, although he reigned thirty-one years, and Simon only four, after having obtained the right of coinage. Did then .Tohannes renounce the privilege, or have all his coins perished, although such various ones of his predeces- sors have been preserved ? At least it has not occurred to me that any such have been ever discovered; if there have, it must have been of late years in the collections of Pelerin, Bayer, or later ones ; and if any coins of Jo- hannes are to be found there, it is to be wished that some person, who has had opportunity to consult those collections, would inform the public of it in your pub- lication, that we may obtain some new grounds for consideration. ' Until then we must conclude, that if Johannes did coin money, he may have preserved the types, and, possibly, the name of Simon on them ; so that some of those, now in our possession, may really belong to Johannes. But this is mere conjecture, and it is more probable that they have all perished, there- fore that those of his predecessor Simon have perished likewise; and thus that the coins so generally now pre- VOL. VIII. F served
66
served belong rather to Barcochebas, who lived 240 years later.
This conclusion is strengthened by another fact ; for the successor to that Johannes was Aristobulus, as he called himself by his Greek name, although hi* Jewish name was Judas. He was the first high priest who assumed the title of king\ but he reigned only one year, and was succeeded by Alexander Jannaeus. Now Barthelemy mentions that of late years a few coins have been discovered with the name of A^g^avJfoo BeKTiXBws on the obverses, and on the reverses having, in Syrian letters, ehher Cohen- Gadol, i. e. high priest, or Johannes Rex on some, and on others Jonathan Rex, so far as he has been able hitherto to decipher the legends J but they are all so corroded and defaced, that he is in doubt as to which of those two Jewish names, in Samaritan letters, is upon them: if then so few of these later coins have been discovered and this of late only, owing, possibly, to some circumstance favourable to preservation ; and if even these are un- certain whether belonging to Alexander Jannaeus above fifty years after Simon, or to a later Aristobulus Alex- ander, in the time of Herod, 150 years after Simon ; if so few of these, and these so much defaced, have been preserved, and those of Simon's immediate suc- cessor, Johannes, all perished, is it probable that so many of Simon, himself, before Johannes, should be preserved and in so much better preservation than those of any of his successors? For indeed even those of Antigonus, the last king before Herod, although found in more plenty, are yet all more or less defaced [toutes^plus ou moin defaces.] I doubt, therefore, that
all
6f
all those coins hitherto ascribed to Simon Maccabee ought rather to be arranged under Simon Barcochebas, or, at least, that none of them are entitled to be in- cluded in the^r5/ class, as being, with any certainty, of an earlier age, or any way whatever distinguishable from those doubtful ones which form the third class of Jewish coins, and which may, possibly, all belong to Barcochebas likewise. Thus the only cause why some of them have Simon on them, while others, nearly with the same types, have not that name, may be, be- cause he was not at first acknowledged by the Jews as king; but when he was so he then assumed the title of Simon, Prince nf Israel, on his subsequent coins. Yet even here we may discover one other fact in favour of these coins belonging all to him, which is, that he styles himself Prince of Israel) whereas, in the book of Maccabees, Simon is always styled Prince of the Jews, lovSaicjuv; which title, as it might seem to exclude the scattered descendants of the kingdom of Israel, for this reason Barcochebas might prefer that of Israel, that he might equally ingratiate himself with these, and thus unite those of both kingdoms under this more ex- tensive and general name.
Hitherto we have examined only whether any one of the coins, in Barthelemy's first class, commonly as- cribed to Simon Maccabee, has any marks which can give to them a claim to an earlier antiquity than those in the third class. It remains to inquire whether those of a doubtful age, in the third class, have any marks which are less consistent with the later age of Barco- chebas, under Adrian, than with that of Simon 240 years before. Now, among the objections which may be started F 2 against
'68
against all of this third class, belonging to Barcoche- bas, one is what has been urged by Barthelemy him- self, that although Henrion positively gives the name of Simon to Barcochebas, yet he has produced no au- thority for it, neither is it known that ihere is any author extant who attributes that name to him. This is, indeed, true; but then neither is there any author extant who mentions what his Jewish name was origi- nally; for as to Barcochebas, it is well known to be only a fictitious one : no one then can affirm that his name was not Simon; but how many names of emi- nent Romans, their wives, or sons, have, in like man- ner, not been mentioned by any authors now extant, in respect to what are called their praenomens ? And yet, afterwards, they have been brought to light by means of medals of them discovered in modern times, on which their praenomens, and other names, have been all enumerated. The very same may be the case here, and these coins may have recovered the original Jewish name of Simon, which had before been buried under the appellation of Barcochebas.
Scaliger informs us, from some rabbinical and doubtful authority, that his name was originally Cotsiha, which, if ever so true, might, however, be only a se- condary one, of which frequent examples occur among their high priests and others; thus the name of Caia- phas had Josephus prefixed to it. This objection then has no weight ; nay, even supposing that Simon had not been the real name of Barcochebas, yet it would still be of no force; and Barthelemy himself has al- ready given a sufficient answer to such an objection in my last letter, in suggesting that he might wish to represent himself as a second Simon : but it might,
very
very probably, be his real name; for Barthelerhy has shewii also, in my last, that the Jewish name of Alex- ander Jannseus was hitherto unknown ; yet it now ap- pears from some of his coins, discovered of late, to have been either Jonathan or Johannes.
Another objection which may possibly be started is> whether there be any testimony of Barcochebas having ever actually coined any money ; this, however, Bar- thelcmy does not dispute against the assertion of it by Henrion, but refers us for proof of it to Basnage, in his Hist, of Jews, book vi. ch. 9. Now, as T have no op- portunity of consulting Basnage, it were to be wished that any person who has, would communicate in your publication what Basnage says on the subject. 1 can therefore, at present, only refer to the authority of Scaliger, who quotes such a fact from some rabbinical author, but does not mention who his author was. ** Cochebas est Stella apud Hebraeos, sed frequentius dicitur Bar-cocheba filius Stella", Jadfei vocant eum Jilius mendacii, quum ejus verum nomen esset Ciitsla, quomodo vocata est moneta ejus nomine cusa, scd ipse voluit se Cuchela vocari postquam tyrannidem ar- ripuit. In veterum Judseorum commentariis scribitur ** Ben Cuziba, qui vocatus est Ben Cocba sc gessit pro Messia: Ideo vocatus est Ben Cochba (id est filius Stellse) quia deprehendit de se dictum esse Perrexit Stella ex Jacob, iffc." [Animadv. Euseb. p. 215.]
Basnage may possibly inform us from what Jewish commentary these words are quoted. Now if the coins of this impostor were so well known among the an^- cient Rabbins, that they gave them the name of Cutsha, what has now become of them ihat no such coins should be known at present either by the Jews I F 3 or
or Christians ? This induces a suspicion that the coins of Simon are these very coins of Barcochebas, and which were, in more ancient times, well known to have been manufactured by that impostor, or, at least, that some of them are of that class which it becomes, therefore, necessary to distinguish with certainty from the others, before any safe conclusions can be drawn from any of them j and there might have been also still another reason why he impressed the name of Simon on what were coined by himself; for this was the name of that Jewish chief who defended Jerusalem against Titus, but being taken was carried to Rome along with the sacred utensils, and after being led in triumph was put to death. The recollection of this event, thus renewed on coins, by the types of those sacred utensils, and the name Simon, would become, another incentive daily present to the Jews to excite them to revenge against the Romans. The name of Simon, therefore, was, on several accounts, well suited to the occasion, and to the types of sacred utensils im- pressed upon the coinsj moreover, as the types on the coins of some of the successors of the Maccabees were very different, as Barthelemy has shewn, namely, one or more cornucopias, and an anchor, wheels and crowns; this confirms that sacred utensils had not been types generally employed by the Jews and derived from the practice of antiquity, but rather adopted on some par- ticular occasion; and none could be more suitable to those types than the recollection of their having been within sixty years before all carried away to Rome and profaned by heathen hands in vulgar uses. It is, however, true, that no sacred utensils are found on those four coins certainly coined after Trajan; but
Ottius,
71
Ottius, at p. 83, reads Simeon on a coin, with sacred utensils, and Reiand a different word: the above four nevertheless have other types, which are suitable to theevent of Barcochebas, viz. a bunch of grapes on one side on all of them, while on the other one has a lyre, two others a palm tree, and the fourth two columns. The variations here even in four of them only having the name of Simon, and similar variations on others, which have not his name, prove that the subjects of the types cannot serve alone as marks, whether any coin is to be ranked in the first class or the third. The types, however, on those four, although different, yet may admit of as proper an application to the event under Barcochebas as to the age of the Maccabees, and pos- sibly a more proper one. For a bunch of grapes was a fit symbol of that plenty of wine, corn, and oil, which the Jews universally expected under the Messiah; and, although the sacred utensils might have been the first types employed in order to excite the Jews to rebellion, yet when he was once acknowledged by them as king and Messiah, he might then first begin to affix his name and titlej and the grapes as a symbol of his Mes- siahship; which was, indeed, so firmly considered by the Jews as an indication of the advent of the Messiah, that Christ himself refers to it when he says in Mark xiv. ** I will drink no more of the fruit of the vine until I drink it new in the kingdom of Godj" and the miracle of water turned into wine served the same purpose of a proof to the Jews of that advent. That the same was intended here by the bunch of grapes we cannot affirm, but it is, in some degree, supported by the palm tree on other coins : that tree, indeed, was the common symbol of Judea, and as such appears on F 4 coins
75
coins of Titua struck in memory of the capture of Jeru- salem: but the palm trees of Simon are different; they are represented as so full of fruit, that the branches bend down low enough for persons, standing under them, to pluck the fruit with their hands and fill bas- kets with them ; yet the palm is a tall tree, and the fruit scarcely ever grows very low. There could not be a more fit symbol of the plenty expected under the Messiah. The lyre again might serve the same pur- pose of expressing the harmony which, under Barco- chebas, would now subsist between Judah and Israel, just as the title of Prince of Israel, assumed on other coins, instead of Prince of the Jews, and the two columns, on other coins, might denote this happy- union of those two kingdoms. That such was the in- tention of those types I cannot assert, and only mean to shew, that they might have as apposite an application to the age of Barcochebas, if not a more suitable one, than to that of the Maccabees; so that no conclusion can arise against their belonging all to Barcochebas from the subjects of the types impressed, any more than from the diversity in them ; which diversity is so conspicu- ous in those four coins, alone, struck under Trajan, as removes still more clearly any evidence derivable from these circumstances toward arranging any of the coins, either under the first class or the third, any more than from the name, or other legends. A simi- lar diversity is found in the types of Greek coins rela- tive to the very same events; variation seems, in those ages, to have been every where the order of the day, and every artist invented just as he chose for himself: but it would, with greater probability, happen during the extensive influence which the insurrection, under
Barcochebas,
n
Barcochebas, had over the whole body of Jews, how- ever dispersed, in distant and different nations, than under the contracted government of Simon the Macca- bee, daring which no variation could take place except by his own express direction. Now, at a time when coinage was so novel, uniformity was rather desirable than diversity, that distant cities might know whose coins they were which were tendered to them in com- merce; whereas those under Barcochebas might be coined by different bodies of Jews, in distant nations, some of whom sent money to him, and some men ; but who could not have conferred together to agree either upon the same subject for a type, cr the same forniy for it, even if they did, by accident, coincide in the same subject; neither after sixty years, could there be many Jews, then living, who could remember what die real form of the pot of manna, or any other sacred utensil, had been, as they must then have been above seventy years of age; hence that diversify in forms!
S. [To he concluded in the next Number.']
> Art. X. Letter of T. Coryaie the Traveller.
TO THE EDITOR Ot CENSURA LITEKAKIA, SIR,
The original of the following letter is now in mv possession, and does not appear to have been printed. Considering the very singular and extraordinary cha- racter of the writer, I presume it may be sufficiently curious and interesting to lay before the readers of the Censura.
No. 37, St. James s Sirset. RoBEur Triphook.
To
*' To y'. right worsp". S\ Mickaell Hixes, Knight, give these with all speede.
"Right Worsp"^^. and generose S*.
<* Though I feare I shall incurre y"'. reprehension for p~suming to write vnto y°^ Worship, yet I hope y*. sup''ficiall acquaintance which I had w*. y». lately at Mr. Ingram's (where it pleased y". after a very debonaire and corteous manner to take notice of me), will in some sort dispense w*. my bouldnesse. I write vnto y", partly, by way of deprecation, for my error committed at y*. time, at Mr. Ingram's table; w*^'' I beseech y". to impute not to any voluntarie maliparlnesse of mine, but rather to the merry prompting of y^. joviall black- bearded gcntlema~y' sat next vnto me, who, y". knowe, is soe much given to his -0:1x^2 Hopoc. and libertie of speech y^ sometimes he will not sticke b'. amicissi- mum quempiam p~stringere, even to glaunce w*^. some exquisite straine of wilte at y^ dearest frelnde he hath; partly also for y'. I am soe bould to insinuate mysclfe vnto y". with a suite, wherevnto if it shall please y". to condescend, not onely I my selfe shall be obliged vnto y". for it in y'. strictest bonde of true observance till I suffer y'. fatall dissolution of my bodie and sowle, but -p'haps many notable members of o'. commonwealth may render no small thankes vnto y". for y^ same; there- fore, without any long introductions, to discover vnto y" y' sum~e of y^. matter, it is thus ; having travelled about 2 yeares since in these 7 famous countries France, Savoy, Italie, Rhetia commonly called y=. Grisons countrie, Helvetia, alias Swicerland, some partes of high Germanic, and y^. Netherlands, I was disposed to turne^ my microcosme (a phrase y*. 3. certaine learned gentlema~ not long since vsed of me) into eyes, I raeane to prie into all thinges of
chiefest
75
chiefest remarque y^. were obvious vnto my eyes, in every place where I travelled; in soe much y^. by my incessaTt industrie and Herculean toyle, I wrote soe many observatron« in y^. foresayd countries as have filled very neere 4 .quiers of pap^", having in y''. space of 5 moneths survayed 47 cities; and this my Itinerarie I have concealed soe long y*. it seemal cu" tineis ac blattis vixari (as elega~t Angelus Poli- tianus writeth of certaine of his bookes in a~episile to Lawrentius Medices Duke of Florence) detcrminlnr indeed rather, Thetidi aut Veneris eas sargire marl to, then to evulge them to y^ light of my coimtrie before! y^ consum~atio" of my future travells, w'^'^ I thinke will be very neere io yeares hence; but some of my deare freindes, especially a certaine learned gentlema~ one Mr. Laurence Whitaker, hath vsed such importunitie of p'suasions v*ito me, who, amongst other things, al- ieaged y'. excellent p^verbiali verse.
HoXXcc [Xsrayv nrsXsl xaXirJ^ kou kzsXb^ anps',
y*. I have confidently resolved, by Gods gracious p~mi3- sio~, to imprint y^ observations of my past travells for y^ benefite of my travelling countrie-men, before I goc abroad againe: for w*^''. cause determining to dedicat^j them to y*. prince* I went lately to his Highnesse and p^nounced a~ oratio" vnto him before a great assemblic of courtiers, and withall presented vnto him my lor- nail, who soe graciously accepted it y^ he hath p~mised to entertaine y*. dedication thereof. Since w*^^'. time I have laboured very much about y^. licencing of my booke y^ it might be printed, first w*. y% late Arch-
* Henry, PriiKe of Wales, died i6i-j.
by shop
by shop of Canterbury,* " whose suddieh death ''liatTi much defeated my (lesigneme~t; after y'. w^, some of y*. high Commissioners and y^. Byshop of London, f of vvho~ I can not get a~ approbatio~, seeing it is not in their power to allowe any bookes to be printed (as they affirme) but theologicall. Soe y*. y^. whole scope of my suite vnto y*^. Worship doth tend vnto this, y^ y". would vouchsafe to intercede for me vnto myLorde Treasurer I y'. it would please his Lordship to give order it may be printed in London with some expe- dition: y*. Prince not onely approving yea applauding it together w*. all those selected flowers of gentilitiey*. flourish in his Princely courte, but also earnestly ex- pecting it; especially since there is not as much as one line contained in my whole iornall y*. maketh against o^ state, or any forraine Prince confederete w*^' vs, or against religion or good manners ; my booke contain- ing principally y^. most remarkable antiquities of those cities y*. I have described, yea and soe many of them y'. I hope y". will pardon me though I thinke y^ no ma~of o^ nation since y'=. incarnatio" of Christe hath ] observed more fory^. time in y^ foresaydcoun tries, w*^''.
1 hope y". would not hold to be vnlikely if y" did but knowe what intolerable paynes I tooke in my tra- vells both by day and night, scarce affoording myselfe
2 bowers rest sometimes of y*^. whole 24 in y^ citie of Venice by reason of my continuall writing; wherevpo~ divers English me" y' lay in y*. same howse with me, observing my extreme watchings,
* Dr. Richard BancroFt died 2 Nov. 1610. •f George Abbot, D. D. obtained the see of Canterbury in the fjl!owi;.g year.
X Robert, first Earl of Salisbury, cb. 1612.
whercw*.
n
wherew* I did grievously excruciat my bodie, instantly desired me to pittie my selfe, and not to kill my selfc w*"^. my inordinate labours. To conclude, if it shall please y°^ Worship to gratifie me in this my earnest suppli- cation, y". will adde vnto me y=. very spurres of dili- gence, andgive me wonderfull encouragement to observe such thinges in my future travells as I doubt not but shall be acceptable to y*^. King and Queene themselves and all their royall children, as also to the greatest peeres and nobles of this kingdome, in hope whereof I will commend y"^ worship to y*^. gracious clientele of y^ omnipotent Jehova.
FroJ my chamber, in Bowelane, this 15*. November, 1610.
Y°''. Worship's most suppliant beadesman,
Thomas Coryate."*
Art. XL Old Poetry.
\_Lycence to lyue at ese The seven deadly sins form a principal part of thePersones Ta!e told in prose by Chaucer ; with which tale the author of the following lines seemed fully acquainted. They are transcribed from a MS. noticed in the last velume, p. 344, as containing a poem ascribed to Lydgate, and are simi- lar to his manner and prosaic style. The original is written as prose, ■with the commencement of each stanza distinguished by a paragraph in red ink.]
*' As I walkyd vppon a day.
To take the acre off felds and flowre; In a mery morenynge off May,
Whenn flowrys were fFull off swete flauowrej
* Born 1^77, died at Surat, 1617.
I hurd
78
T hijrd one say, O God, verray ! ■
How longe shall T dure yn my dolour? And.onn bis kneys he began to pray; Now, good God ! send mc thy succour, Maryes sonn, most off honour ! ■ Thatt ryche and poore may po * and plese^
Now gere me lyfe yn my langour. And yeve vs lycence to- Jyfe yn ese.
To lyfe yn ese, and his lawys to kepe, Grawnt me God yn blysse so brygbt;
And wir yn that cabonn lett vs neuer crepe ; Tber as Lucifer lyeth I lok ** wit owt eny lyght ;
My dedly wowndis ere derne ' and depe, [ haue no place to represse tbera aryght ;,
And smertynge, wyll notr suffer me to slepe Tyll a lecbe wit dewte haue them dygbtj'^ Hitt most be a curate, a crownyd wyght,
Tbatt knew the querely off bene and pese ; ^ And els thes medicynys haue no myght.
To geve vs lessons and lycense to lyve yn ese,
A wykkyd wownde that hath me walt,f
And traveld my body fro top to the tooj This wykkid wordyll hitt is I^ calt,
Tbatt hath many a blayne both blak and bla: * "^ Hitt bath rac hurt, and made me halt.
My hert, my hondys, my bed also. Nere I had be baptisyd yn watyr and salt,
Tbatt fervent ffc^te wold nevyr me fro ;
Thatt leche that lyffed Lazer and moo, David and Daniel, off ther disese.
Amend thes woundis thatt doth mc this woo> And geve me lycence to lyve yn ese.
• Truly. * sic. •* close. «■ secret. * dicst.
e Q;_meaniiig of this line. f overthrown.
Z This appears to be used in the tame manner as the letter y is adopted
by ibe caily poets. .
IhlS
79
This wownd is noryssher off wownds scvyn,
Superhia, he is the principall! Pride, partely yn english stevyn, ^
He is more bitter than venyn or gall. To hym I haue had lechis a levyn.
And they haue geve raedicyns all ; Butt, the soveraynyst medicyn vndyr hevyn.
Hit groweth yn grownd nothe i ynii wall ;
Humilitas I hurd a lech hit call. Had I hymm than I were att ese j
God send me thatt syke thrall,'' And geve vs lycence to lyve yn ese.
Ira, is the secund wownd 1
He ramagith sore both raw and redej All my cors 1 he doith confownd.
So sore he swellith yn hert and hede; I know nonn herbe thatt growith yn grownd,
Nothir no corsiff'" will qwench his quede; Butt bonage wit yn a litill stownde
Will make hym dry, and wex all dedde j
God yeve me grace to sow sum lovage sede^ Thatt yn my gardyn may rote areyscj
And els asseker" as men etyth brede, Shall we neuer haiie lycence to lyve yn ese. Jnuidia, the third wownd is,
A gritter gnawer than ffelone or gowte! A" is a wykkid wownd, I wis.
That is he hath pour to reyse and rote ; The kynde off the wownde for sort is this.
To brenne the brest wit yn and wit owt; I askyd a leche how I myght me lys, p
* Sound or tongue. i neither. ^ such a slave.
' course. "> corrosive, " certain.
P See Tyrwhitt's glossary to Chaucer's Canterbury Talej.
P abate.
He
He toke me charitas I knyit yn a clowte; ".-X'i
He bade me bawm "J me ther wit all a bowfe, . Atid than he wold begynne to wate ' and wese ;
And then sonn after, wit owt any dowte, Thow shalt haue licence to lyue yn ese. . , ,
Auarteia, is an horribill sore!
He doth me dere' both nyght and dayj For evyr he covetith more and more,
Offplastris than I purvay' mayj 1 askid a mastir ofFfFysyke lore^
How I myght make bymm drye« and vanysh away; Elemosma was a gentyll herbe tber for,
I wis one the best that evyr, he say.
Take and anoynte hyra ther wit ev)ar when thou may. And thinke how requiem * yd thy rent shall sese ;
And then sone aftyr, wit yn a short day, Thow shalt haue lycence to lyve yn ese.
Accidia, is a sowkyng blayne.
He bollith ''and bladderith ^ wit yn my bowre j And makith meffaynt both flesh and vaync.
And kepith me yn cowche like a cowchourej ^ 1 hurde off an herbe thalt shold lyse* thattpayne
Men seith hitt berith a dowbyll flowrej Figilate and oratey vse well tho twayne.
And hitt shall be nyram b the thi dolowr, ,^
As siker as bred is made off flowrej Smytt bam yn seson wit thi nese,
And the swetnes off thatt swete savoure. Shall geve the lycense to lyve yn ese.
Cula, is a grevys gall.
He rayvith my rest onn my bed} And straynyth my stomake strayte wit all ;
Wit many a fest, when I am full fed.
|
<i Wrap. f know. |
s hurt. t foresight. " sufiFsr- |
|
^ requiring. |
X svyellcth. T bloweth. |
|
z a setting-dog. |
a abate. b steal. |
|
I walow |
St
1 walow and weyd as a worme yn a wall;
I may nott slepe tyll I haue shamely shed. Now, mercy, lord ! on the I call,
Thatt for vs lett his brest be bledj
A leche hath led his hed to wed, Thatt he wyll make me a playster thatt shall me plcse
Of alstinentia, and I hym hed, Shold geve me license to lyve yn ese. Luxuria is a lither • mormale j ^
A mercy, lofde, full of pyte ! My brokytt body bryngith yn ball.
And ffrayeth my sowle yn frayalte. Sum tyme a surgeryn told rrte a tale.
This was the lesson thatt he leride me } The rote off an herbe I shold vpp hale,
That clerkis callith castitas fre;
Pownd hym and tempre hym, wit penitence j When the rebande will on the zese,
Drayne hym and drynke hym, wit confesslore, Than shalt thou haue lycensc to lyve yn ese.
And othir iij herbis ther beth also.
That shall save this sorys, « they shall neuer swell. The first is cordis contritio,
That wasshith the wowndis as doith a well; The secound is oris confessio,
That wyll nott sufFyr no ded flcssh dwell j [And tbyrd] operis satisfactio,
That soveray sanatyfc sothly to tell :
Now, Lord, as thow madyst hevyn, erth, and hell, Geve vs grace hym to serue and plese.
And with yn his gloryus blysse that we all may dwell. And geve vs there licence to lyve yn ese*"
' Wicked. d gangrene. * sorrow.
Conduit street. 3- H.
VOL, VIII, o ARl^.
8«
Art. XII. The Buminator. Containing a series of moral, sentimental, and critical Essays.
N°. XXXIV.
A familiar poetical Epistle to a Friend, expressive of private melancholy.
BY A CORRESPONDENT.
TO THE RUMINATOR. SIR, May 10, 1808.
As you seem inclined to vary your papers by a mix- lure of poetry with your prose, I solicit admission for the following familiar Epistle, written literally currente calamo, by a very dear friend. As it contains some moral touches, I hope it will not dishonour your ruminations. T'o secure its insertion, I leave the name of the person, who is responsible for it, with your Printer. L. L. Z.
Familiar Epistle to the Rev. .
April 13, 1808,
Dear , whose full-stor d mind
Is with all varied wealth refin'd,
Permit me thus to scrawl at ease.
Without e'en the attempt to please!
Thy mighty intellect can spy
In rudest scrawls ability 3 ^ *■
And can with kindest candour sigh
O'er casual imbecility !
Born of a race, whose mighty powers
O'er Europe's wide domains are known, 10
Thy judgments no vile envy sours.
Thy censure takes no petty tone —
Learning
83
Learning and taste alike combine The fiat of thy thoughts to sign; And genius, fairest of the three. Is proud to own her strains in thee.
How oft with rapture do 1 hear The enhghten'd words thy lips endear; Oft on thy heart's decrees repose, Wlience goodness as from fountains flows ! 20 To me in candour wilt thou listen, Tho' in ray strains no genius glisten ? Alas ! thou know'st not, how distracted Tbe cares that on my brain have acted; My spirits low, my body weak, I scarce in languid tone can speak. Unless with agonized eyes Loud indignation's tones arise, Then leave me once again to languor. Forgot the very sighs of anger ! 30
Ah! thy more placid bosom knows Not the wild rage, in me that glows; Nor aught of the untam'd emotions. That agitate my ill-starr'd notions 1 But thou the tumult wilt forgive. In which by fate's decree I live ! When night's black shades invest the sky. Doubtful of rest, tho' tir'd, I fly To bed,, where sleep my frame may bless With transient forgetfulness ! . 40
But all the horrid thoughts of day Come in a doubly-dark array; And tear my bosom, and affright My fancy with their glaring light! O whence these tumults of my breast, O why, when other bosoms rest, Should thus my ease of mind be crost? Should thus my life in cares be lost ?
o 2 What
8+
What special crimes have cast their stain.
Unworn by years of grief and pain ? 50
1 wander thro' the fields of morn,
I strive my temples to adorn ' ' '
With all the simplest flowers, that grow
Beneath the spring's first genial glow;
I dress my humble mental powers
With learning's gems, and fancy's flowers;
I strive my heart to raise above
The selfish worldling's grovelling love,
And lift its bold affections high
On mighty views beyond the sky. 60
But traverst still, and still opprest,
I never know an hour of rest;
Some insult breaks my wise resolves;
Some new injustice, that involves
My tinder passions in a flame,
Rises my dying strength to claim.
There are, my friend, who still survey
My irritations as their prey;
Who see indignant bursts, with joy.
My vital energy destroy ; 70
And laugh to view th' exhausting pains
I feel, in struggling with my chains,
*• He, whom the world a prophet deem, In his own land has small esteem :" Ah! friend, I own it with a sigh. Nor prophet nor yet bard am I ! But still if they, as well they may, Refuse such praise as this to pay. The good denied, they might as well Leave me without the attendant ill !
I've often heard it said* there is In the mind's own exertion? bliss; And bliss there is ; for were there not. The bard's would be a hapless lot
God
85
God help him, how would he endure
The laugh of the conceited boor,
The coxcomb's sneer, the cynic's frown.
The giggle of the senseless town.
The treach'rous critic's cover'd guile.
And yellow Envy's pallid smile. QO
Bursting with undiminished fires. To his own mind the bard retires — Within himself the kingdom lies. Which moves his heart and feasts his eyes — Umbrageous groves around him spring. Sweet birds within their coverts sing. Streams murmur, meadows smile, fair maids Dance or breathe love within the shades. And harps from fairy castles sound. Where feast and revelry abound. 100
Alas! too soon the vision flies j In distant air the music dies. And leaves him with exhausted frame To mourn the void of phantom Fame I E'en now I sit with aching head. And limbs in listless languor spread. While trembling hand can scarce impart The dictates of a sinking heart: Yet thus I cheat the weary hours. While sable care incumbent lours ; 110
And bring ray life's. o'erwhelming woes A little nearer to the close.
The mark of calumny and wrong, J stand Unkindness' sons among j And they, who dare not insult show. Where prosperous Fortune knits her brow. Dare heap, as with impunity. Their contumelious wrongs on me:
120
63 —
9^
• ' the ties of blood undone!
Paternal acres^ lov'd, ador'd. That could my infant days afford Such pure delights, as rise again. With rapture that amounts to pain ; Is there —__ »—
Full many a year of blackest grief
I still have nurs'd the fond belief, 130
The time at last would come, when I,
Repaid for all my agony,
In age's hour should sit at ease
Beneath hereditary trees.
And calmly should descend to death.
Where first I drew this hapless breath !
The stormy noon, when from the wave
I scarce the batter 'd bark could save.
Thus by the contrast might diffuse
O'er my life's evening brighter hues. 140
O fond delusion ! sabler spread
The shades that thicken round my head j
And, dark as was the storm of noon, ,
Still heavier may the tempest soon
The vessel's weaken'd powers assail.
And whelm me headlong in the gale;
Youth's vigour lost, Hope's anchor gone.
Then Fate itself must cry, " undone."
" There is a home," my friend will say,
" Shining beyond yon milky way, 150
Where, (if on earth no peace abound,)
Nor storms molest, nor cares surround 5
There point thy hopes, and strive to win^
By that true monitor within.
Yon seat of rest, where seraphs blaze; —
Encircled with perennial rays!"
'Tis
I
87
Tis true, dear friend; then I must close
This lengthcn'd dreaming, feverish prose.
And you'll believe me, &c. &c, 15Q
N". XXXV. A Second Familiar Epistle to another Friend,
BY THE SAME CORRESPONDENT.
To the Rev. — — — .
April 18, i8o8.
" Complain; for ever still complain ! O cease, my friend, the doleful strain ! No ills beyond the common fate The future years, thou dread'st, await ! Then let your fancy dwell no more On joys you never can restore. Or storms, that in your fancy's eye Are gatliering in the distant sky !"
Well dost thou say : perchance no good It is, o'er coming glooms to brood: 10
Then let me strive to while away In present good the careless day. Walk, ride, dig, saunter in the shade. Or stray, where bards before have stray 'd. Along the meads, whose emerald green To glow with new-sprung tints is seen j Or sit at ease, and pour along My unpremeditated song, While varied visions play about My mind in strange and motley rout. 20
They all are cheats, these charms of life For which we make such fretful strife; Wealth, honours, fame, and gaudy show. Empty as bubbles that we blow j
« 4 And
88
And he who can, the easiest way.
With innocence, beguile the day.
And soonest reach life's feverish close.
Where all our passions will repose.
Is after all, in reason's eyes.
The best, the happiest, and most wise. no
Why should I vex my morbid frame With thoughts, that put me in a flame ? With anger, at the scoundrel's wil^. Whose infamy my pen defiles ? With scorn, that breaks its just control. At the poor insults of a fool ? With Treachery's trick, and Falsehood's vow. And chang'd Affection's alter'd brow ? While Competence will yet bestow 40
The little that we want below. The frugal meal, the simple vest. The roof, tho' straw-built j what's the rest? Superfluous luxury, that ne'er Could lull to sleep a single care ! Fortune, that jade, may on us frown. And think to keep our spirits downj But can she bar the morning's gate. When she comes dancing forth in state, And throws her orient beams around. With dew-drops spangling all the ground? 50 Can she suppress the gales that bring Delightful odours on their wing ? Can she, when Evenfng sails along. Led by the nightingale's sweet song. And murmuring sounds, and dying wind. Soothe to deep peace the pensive mind. And the Muse whispers in the ear. Notes, it is ecstasy to hear; ' •'
Can she affright the Nymph awayj Or rudely tear her mantle grey ? CO
Ah'
89
Ah ! can she rob us of the lore. That Genius treasures in her store ? The glowing thought, the golden forms. Which into life rich Fancy warms ? The heart that trembles, or that fires. With all that Love or Fame inspires ? The soul, above the ills of fate. Within itself sublimely great?
Avaunt then to these low-born cares, Beneath whose power my manhood wears ! 70 And different be the star, that guides My tossing vessel o'er the tides! To Ease and Mirth I'll give the swayj And while my thoughtless life away, Reckless of its concluding day ; Whether its sand be ebbing fastj Or dim and distant be its last!
Methinks, this beauteous orb can show Much for pure Admiration's glow; 80
The laughing earth j the radiant bow That shines above, what time the Morn Begins this scene of things adorn; Or when at Night the planets vie With radiant blaze amid the sky: And e'en the human tribe among, Tho' much abounds for Satire's song, Tho' vile Self-interest far prevails. And Scandal tells her poison'd tales > Tho' Malice grins, and Cruelty Inflicts her blood-stain'd agony ; Yet he, who looks with eye inclin'd Pleasure and love alone to find. Perchance may see, in most he meets. Something, his better hope that greets ! To smile at wrong; but when we view An honest heart, believe it true ;
Cherish
Cherish the treasure, and requite ''- • ^
Its kindling movements with delist 5 '"
Of Nature's ever-varjdng hues
Not beauty in a tint to lose; 100
Is that divine philosophy.
Which best becomes the wise to try!
Sorrow may for a casual hdur The sinking spirits still o'erpower ; Disease may s,till the frame torment; And Spleen her transient sourness vent; Injustice may thy claims withhold. And prosperous Wealth reign uncontroll'd; And fiends, as Indignation boils, Have a brief triumph in their wiles! 110
But Chearfulnegs will soon resume Her light, the brow to re-illume. And the calm sunshine of the breast Will soothe uneasy cares to rest!
Sure Nature never could design This earthly frame, tho' sparks divine Are with its grosser matter mix'd. On constant thinking to be fix'd I »;
The mind, intensely thus employ'd. By its own efforts is destroy 'd; 120
And feebly sinks the body's power. Which the brain's fevers soon devour. Some mortal pleasure we require Mingled with intellectual firej For here, alas ! the embodied soul Struggles in vain against control ; And best its happier weapons wields. When to its fate it sometimes yields. *
Be mine then in my future days
Not to such heights my thoughts to raisej 130
Nor seek, since I must seek in vain.
Realms of such shadowy light to gain;
But
91
But play, like those of humbler aim, '
And humour this imperfect frame j
And walk, and ride, and talk, and smile.
Like those whom no proud hopes beguile j
And, loit'ring in heaven's freshest air.
Its balmy bracing blessings share !
For shaLlerd now is every nerve J
And my limbs from their duty swerve j 140
And aching head and trembling hand
Will soon refuse my mind's command.
Yet if like others I had sought
In fields and woods for health unbought,
Perchance this form, mid squires and boors.
In pastimes rude had shewn its powers ;
And sinewy arm and raddy mien
Had laugh'd to scorn Disease and Spleen,
If in my head, in varied maze,
"With fire unquenoh'd ideas blaze j 150
If in my heart sad tenderness
Incessant I'ules to wild excess j .
Can these the loss of health requite>
The careless day, the slumbrous night.
The body, thro' whose purple veins
Strength, freedom, ease, and pleasure reigns ?
Then thoughts that breathe, and words that warm.
Which no pale agonies deform.
While voice of music plays its part.
Send their full raptures to the heart! ]60
But ah! while pines this mould of clay
Discordant to the mental ray.
Upon the altar of the mind
Vain bums the inward fire enshrin'd. 164
N"
92
N°. XXXVI. On the Theological Writings of Grotius.
FOR THE RUMINATOR.
SIR,
You may, perhaps, remember to have heard, in your earlier days, the vulgar proverb, " give a dog an ill name and hang him." Like most other popular maxims it has its foundation in truth; and the quali- ties imputed to men as well as dogs do not, in general, so much depend upon realities, as upon casual report; or, according to the elegant expression of Horace, sr ■ bitrio popularis aura. The converse also of this pro- position is equally true, and it is usually found that when a man has acquired a great reputation the world is sufficiently disposed to acquiesce in it, and not only to allow him the merit which he really has, but to as- cribe to him also that which he has not. The magni nominis umlra, (if I may so apply it) becomes a cover- ing for ignorance and presumption, and sometimes even for folly; for the greater part of the world are not capable of distinguishing between false and true pretensions; and those who are, either are afraid of popular clamour, or think that error will at length be discovered without their assistance.
I am almost afraid to usher in by these observations the venerable name of Grotius. " Is Grotius," it will be said, '* liable to these imputations; Grotius to whom all Europe is so indebted, to whom the cause of revealed religion owes so much; Grotius, the states- man, the soldier, the civilian, and the theologian?"
Had
93
Had he not been a theologian, there would have been no cause for this caution concerning him ; but not- withstanding the depth of his learning, the excellency of his moral character, and the sincerity of his belief, of which I am ficmly persuaded, I cannot help think- ing that it will admit of a doubt whether he has not done more harm than good to the Christian religion. So great is the authority of his name, and so high his character, that even among divines there is scarcely al- lowed an appeal from his decision; and there is hardly to be found a single work, relating to scriptural sub- jects, in which Grotius is not quoted. One reason for this high opinion of his judgment is, that he was not of the clerical order; for, strange as it may seem, there exists a strong prejudice in the world in favour of lay writers on divinity. Yet would a commentary on the laws carry more weight with it because written by a clergyman, or a treatise on physic because written by a lawyer? If not, why should it be supposed that a layman can write, in a more instructive and convincing manner than a clergyman can do, upon the very subject which he has made the chief study of his life?
The principal, if not the only theological works of Grotius, are his voluminous commentaries on the Old and New Testaments, and a small treatise " On the Truth of the Christian Religion." Both these are written in good Latin, but the former is liable to man^ objections. One of the greatest of these arises from the too great regard which he pays to Talmudic fables and Talmudic interpretations, which may be productive of very bad consequences to the incautious. It was ob- viously the view of the later Jews to insert in their Tal- muds such interpretations of the scripturts as might
justify
^4
justify thjeir rejection of Jesus as the promised Messiah. For this reason they appropriated a great number of the most striking prophecies which were fulfilled by different circumstances of the life of Jesus, to David, Hezekiah, Zerubbabel, Judas Maccabaeus, and others, rejecting, for the most part, all typical and secondary applications. And in this unfair and erroneous man- ner of interpreting prophecy, Grotius generally agrees with them, and quotes these writii-.gs as authority; although none of them were extant prior to the destruc- tion of Jerusalem, and some of them even disagree with their oldest Targums, of which that of Jonathan, at least, was published before the coming of Christ.
Misled in this manner, even one of the clearest as well as most celebrated prophecies, contained in the fifty-second and fifty-third chapters of Isaiah, Grotius applies almost wholly to the prophet Jeremiah j nor does he ever mention the name of Christ in his notes on it, but in the first verse of the fifty-third chapter, when he says '' Hae notse in Jeremiam congruunt prius, sed potius in Christum," and then proceeds to explain the whole chapter as relating to Jeremiah. And this is the more extraordinary, as in his book on the Truth of the Christian Religion, published after- wards, he expressly affirms that this prophecy can agree to no one but to Christ. * *
But the limits of this paper will not admit of all the passages being pointed out in which this eminent scho- lar contradicts himself. His vi^ork on the Truth of the Christian Religion, which was written subsequent to
*■ Q«*s potest nfrtninari aut regum, ant frofbttarum In ^uem hue con- grttvot ? Nemo sane. De Veritat. Lib. V. 19.
his
93
his Commentaries, is much more valuable than they are. It has always been much and deservedly es- teemed as an excellent manual, urging in a clear, forcible, easy, and popular style, the principal argu- ments which establish the certainty of the divine ori- gin of the religion of Christ; and many of these are such as he does not allow in his Commentaries to relate to him. In the fifth book of this work he mentions a very remarkable anecdote which has puzzled all his various editors, as he quotes no authority for it. He says, in speaking of the time foretold by Daniel, for the appearance of the Messiah, that it agreed so exactly with the coming of Christ, that a Jewish doctor, named Nehumias, who lived about fifty years bet'bre the birth of our Lord, said that it was impossible that the coming of the Messiah could be delayed more than fifty years from that time. Leclerc observes, in a note, that Grotius ought to have mentioned from whence he had this story; but he thinks, that in one of his letters to his brother, he says, that he was told it by a Jew. Dr. Jenkins, however, in his book " On the Reasonableness and Certainty of the Christian Re- ligion," fifth edition, says, that Grotius took it from the Talmud, and he also refers for it to " Surrav. Epist." a work with which I am entirely unacquainted. If, however, it had been in either of the Talmuds, it v^ould hardly have escaped the researches of the learned as well as industrious Dr. Lightfoot, who makes no allusion to it. Yet it is surprising that neither Leclerc, nor his translator. Dr. Clark, should know that this <:ircumstance is to be found at length in Purchas's Pil- grimage, p. 144, first edition, who quotes for it the au- thority of Petrus Galatinus, a Franciscan monk, who
wrote
96
wrote a book against the Jews in 1520, '^ De Afcanis Catholicse veritatis." But Galatinus himself is said by Moreri to have been indebted for the substance of his work to Porchet, who also bonovved it from Ray- mond Martin.
I have never been able to meet with any of these three last mentioned works, and shall think myself much indebted to any of your learned readers who can tell me, through you, what authority any of them give for this curious and interesting anecdote. Your deep- read correspondent who writes under the signature of S. may, possibly, be able to afford me this satisfaction; which would be yery gratifying to many others as well as to myself.
As a conclusion I send you Grotius's Epitaph, which I copied in 1791 from his tomb at Delft, and which, I believe, has never been in print.
*' Epitaph on Grotius, at Delft, in the New Church.
" Prodigium Europae, docti stupor unicus orbis.
Naturae auguslum se superantis opus, Ingenii coelestis apex^ virtutis imago,
Celsius humaoa conditione decus; Cui peperit Libani lectos de vertice cedros
Defensus verae religionis honor; Quem lauru Mavors, Pallas decoravit oliva,
Quum bello et paci publica jura daret j Quem Tamesis Batavae miraclum & Sequana terrae
Vidit, & adscrivit Sueonis aula sibi, Grotius bic situs est — tumulo disccdite, quos non
Musarum & Patriae fervidus urit amor."
P.M. Art.
91
Art. XIII. The purport of the Speech of the Rt. Hon. Lord Mansfield in the celebrated Douglas ■ Cause.
" I must own that this cause before us is the greatest and most important that occurs to me: it is no less than an attack upon the virtue and honour of a lady of the first quality, in order to dispossess a young gentleman of an eminent fortune, reduce him to beggary, strip him of his birthright, declare him an alien and a foundling. I have slept and waked upon the subject, considered it on my pillow, to the losing of my natural rest, and wi.h all the judgment I was capable, have considered the various articles that make up this long and voluminous cause, upon which I am now to gis'i my opinion before your Lordships.
*' I apprehend that in the matter before us, three things are to be considered. The situation of Lady Jane before her delivery, at her delivery, and after it was over: to all which the Chancellor has spoken with great propriety. It is proved, beyond a possibility of doubt, that she became pregnant in Oct. 1747, at the age of forty-nine years, a thing far from being uncom- mon, as is attested by physicians of the first rank, and confirmed by daily experience: and that in the month of July she was delivered of twins, one of whom died, the other is still alive; he has been presented to the world by Sir John Stewart and Lady Jane Douglas, as their son ; nor can he be wrested from the hands of his parents, unless some other had in their lifetime claimed him as their child in a legal an4 justifiable way.
VOL. vin. H "This
9«
" This action, my Lords, did not lie against the ap- pellant as an impostor; for an impostor, in the sense • of the law, is a person who wilfully and knowingly . pretends to be a different one from what he really is in order to defraud another, and to impose under a ficti- tious name upon the public. If any be an impostor, it must have been Lady Jane, whom they ought to have prosecuted in her lifetime, and not at the dis- tance of nine years after her death : the method of discovering an impostor, is to bring his accomplice to the court before which the impostor was arraigned ; and if after a fair trial the accused person be found guilty, let him take the consequences thereof: but this the respondents have neglected: the appellant has been for five years, four months, and twelve days, the ac- knowledged son of liady Jane Douglas; and for thir- teen years and two months the son of Sir John Stew- art, before any attempt was made to rob him of his parents, his birthright, and his all.
** As the Lord Chancellor has anticipated much of ■what I intended to speak upon this subject, so I shall only touch at the situation and character of the de- ceased, whom I remember in the year 1750 to have been in the most deplorable circumstances. She came to me (T being then Solicitor-General) in a very desti- tute condition, and yet her modesty would not suffer her to complain. The noblewoman was every way visible, even under all the pressure of want and poverty. Her visage and appearance were more powerful advo- cates than her voice; and yet I was afraid to offer her relief, for fear of being constructed to proffer her an in- dignity. In this manner she came twice to my house, before I knew her real necessities; to relieve which
was
99
was my aim. I spoke to Mr. Pelham in her favour; lold him of her situation with regard to her brother the Duke of Douglas, and of her present straits and difficul- ties. Mr. I'elham, without delay, laid the matter be- fore the King : the Duke of Newcastle then being at Ilmover, was wrote to; be seconded the solicitation of his brother. His Majesty immediately granted her 300I. per annum out of his privy purse; and Mr. Pel- ham was so generous as to order 150I. of the money to be instantly paid. I can assure your Lordships, that I never did trouble his Majesty for any other. Lady Jane Douglas was the first and last who ever had a pension by my means. At that time I looked upon her to be a lady of the strictest honour and integrity, and to have the deepest sense of grandeur of the family from whence she was sprung; a family conspicuously great in Scotland for a thousand years past ; a family whose numerous branches have spread over Europe; they have frequently intermarried with the blood royal; and she herself was descended from Hen. VU. I took care that his late Majesty should be more ac- quainted with her family and name, to the intent that, though she was married to Col. Stewart, a dissipated and licentious man, and who had been in the rebellion in 1715, yet he would pass it over, as she was of a race who had always been eminently loyal, her brother having charged as a volunteer at the head of the coun- try in the year 17 15, when his cousin, the Earl of For- far, died like a hero in defence of the government; and that his Grace had in 1745 treated the rebels and their leader with contempt and ridicule; and indeed his Majesty, from his wonted magnanimity, spoke nothing of her husband, but treated her with all the respect due
M 2 to
lOO
to a. noblewoman of the first rank and quality; one who carried all the appearance of a person habituated to devotion, and for a number of years trained up in the school of adversity and disappointment.
** Is it possible, my Lords, to imagine that a woman of such a family, of such high honour, and who had a real sense of her own dignity, could be so base as to impose false children upon the world? Would she have owned them on every occasion ? Was ever mother more affected for the death of a child than she was for the death of Sholto, the younger of her sons? ' Will you (said she) indulge me to speak of my son?* and cried out, with vehemency, * O Sholto ! Sholto ! my son Sholto!' And after speaking of his death, she said, * She thanked God that her son Archy was alive. What (said she) would the enemies of me and my children say, if they saw me lying in the dust of death upon account of the death of my son Sholto? Would they have any stronger proof of their being my children than my dying for them ?' She still insisted that the shock which she received by the death of Sholto, and other griefs she had met with, were so severe upon her, that she was perfectly persuaded she would never recover, but considered herself as a dying woman, and one who was soon to appear in the presence of Almighty God, and to whom she must answer. She declared that the children Archie and Sholto were born of her body, and that there was one blessing of wiiich her enemies could not deprive her, ■vvhich was her innocency, and that she could pray to Almighty God for the life of her other son j that she was not afraid for him, for that Almighty God would take care of him! And what is remarkable, the witness, Mary Macrabie, observed, that the grief for the loss of
the
lOI,
the child grew upon her. Would she, my Lords, have blessed hef surviving child on her death bed ? Would she have died with a lie in her mouth, and perjury in her right hand ? Charity, that thinketh no evil, will not suffer me for a moment to harbour an opinion so crilel and preposterous: No — can we suppose that two people, who had not wherewith to support themselves, would be solicitous and shew all the tenderness of parents towards the children of creatures who, forgetting the first principles of instinct and humanity, had sold their children to people whom they did not so much as know by their names. The act of Joseph's brethren in selling him is represented as wicked and unnatural ; but, indeed, the crime of Madam Mignon, and of Madam Sanry, is still more black and atrocious! To carry this a Hide further, suppose Lady Jane Douglas had acted this out of a principle of revenge toward the family of Hamilton, yet Sir John Stewart had no oc- casion to do so, much less continue the vindictive farce after her death, especially when married to another spouse. And here we may see Sir John as much a parent to the appellant as Lady Jane; he was every way fond of him; it is in evidence; I know it to be true : my sister and I have been frequently at Mr. Mur- ray's with them, and were always delighted with the care we observed. No mortal harboured any thoughts of their being false children at that time, I mean in 1750 and 1751. Every person looked upon them as the children of Lady Jane Douglas, and of Colonel Stewart. The Countess of Eglington, Lord Lindores, and many others have, upon oath, declared the same thing. ** No sooner does the Colonel hear of the aspersions II 3 raised
103
raised at Douglas castle, and of Archibald Stewart^s swearing that Count Dougla?, a French nobleman, had informed the Duk€ of Doufflas that thev had been bought out of an hospital, than he returned an answer to Mr. Loch, who gave the intelligence in a letter to Mrs. Hewitt, and wrote him in all the terms of a man of spirit, cordially interested in the welfare and happiness of his son ; but he and Lady Jane begged the favour of Chevalier Douglas, a French gen- tleman and officer, then at London, to acquaint his cousin, the Count, with what was said of him. This the Chevalier undertook, and fulfilled with the fidelity of a man of honour; and the Count, in consequence of the application, wrote a letter not only to Lady Jane, but to her brother the Duk^, in all the language of politeness and humanitj^, disowning what was said of him. But, my Lords, the Duke of Douglas himself was fully satisfied of the appellant's being the real son of his sister Lady Jane; for on beginning to be known after his marriage, and to rcH»h the pleasures of social life, he became very inquisitive ' about the size, shape, and complexion of the appellant, and if he appeared to be A smart boy,' He employed Sir William Douglas, and others, in whom he could confide, to inquire of Mrs. Hewitt, Lady Jones's companion, and of Euphe- mia Caw, and Isabel Walker, the two maid servants, who had lived with them, when abroad, and observed their conduct in the most unguarded moments, con- cerning the birth of the children:. he even searched into the characters of these ; and It appears from the depo- sitions of clergymen and gentlemen of the first rank in that country, that they were women worthy to be be- lieved. He even went in person to visit Mrs. Hewitt,
conversed
103
conversed with her In presence of his gentleman, Mr. Greenshils, concerning his sister's delivery; and the accounts given by these, hke the radii of a circle, all pointing toward one and the same centre, confirming the reality of Lady Jane being the mother of the young gentleman, he was satisfied, acknowledged him for his nephew, and left him his heir.
" If the Duke of Douglas, after so serious an inquiry, was convinced, why should not we? It is true his Grace has sometimes expressed himself warmly against the surname of Hamilton, even in Lady Jane's life- time, but never so warmly as to prefer a suppositious child to the Duke of that name; for he only declares, * that if he thought the children were Lady Jane's, he would never settle his estate on the family of Hamil- ton;' nor did he, till after detecting the frauds and conspiracies that had been so long and so industriously carried on against his sister and himself, make any al- teration in his first settlement.
** After the Duke's death, the appellant was served heir to his uncle, according fo the form prescribed by the law of Scotland, upon an uncontrovertcd evidence of his being the son of Lady Jane Douglas, takes pos- sessioTi of the estate, and is viriually acknowledged heir by the Earl of Selkirk, and by the Duke of Hamilton's guardians themselves; for these enter actions before the court of session, declaring their right to certain parts of the estates, upon some ancient claims which the judges there declared to be groundless; but in the whole action there was not the least intimation that Mr. Douglas was not the son of Lady Jane. ^ " It is needless to trouble your Lordships with the
H 4 conduct
iP4
conduct of the respondent's guardians at Paris, and elsewhere, upon the continent. Nothing has been dis- covered that could throw the least blemish upon the honour of Lady Jane Douglas, or Colonel Stewart; tlj^y have, indeed, proved their straits there, and his imprisonment here; but both these circumstances carry a further confirmation that the appellant is their son.} for in every letter that passed between them the children are named with a tenderness scarce to be be- lieved; whereas, had they been counterfeits, as pre- tended, they would have been apt to upbraid one another for an act so manifestly tending to involve them in their sufferings.
" ** Suppose, my Lords, that Mignon, the glass ma- nufacturer's wife, the pretended mother of Mr. Douglas, had deposed the same things in Lady Jane's presence, as she has so long after her death? From her evidence, it appears that she had never seen Lady Jane; by her words, both in private and public, she seems to deserve no manner of credit: the oath of Mr. Murray, a princi- pal witness, has destroyed every thing she has asserted. The same might be said of Sanry, the rope-dancer's spouse, whose child's rupture we were earnestly desired to keep in view, to prove him to have been the identical Sholto, the younger of the twins; and now evidence is offered that the child Sholto had no rupture, but was as sound as any within these walls. Your Lordships have been told, and I believe with great truth, that a gentleman, shocked at the assertion, had wrote to the council, that the influence arising from so false a sug- gestion might be' prevented. Lalways rejoice to he^r truth, which is the ornament of criticism, and the polished gerh that decorates a bar.
**Thc
" The scrutiny in France, followed by an action in Scotland, produced two things never intended by them; it brought forth a striking acknowledgment of the ap- pellant by his father John Stewart, as is manifest from the bond of provision, read at your Lordship's bar; Sir John openly acknowledged him, before the Court of Session, in the midst of a crowded multitude, and when labouring under a load of anguish and pain; nay, when by himself, he solemnly declared before God, in the presence of a justice of the peace, and two clergymen, that the young gentleman was his son. It likewise established the character of Lady Jane; for on exami- ning the proof, obtained through the vigilance of the Duchess of Douglas, Lady Jare's reputation is unsul- lied and great; allwho had the honour of being known to her declared that her behaviour attracted universal esteem, and Madam Marie Sophi Gillissen, a maiden lady, with whom she lodged several months, deposes that 'Lady Jane was very amiable, and gentle as an angel.' It is further proved that the elder child, the appellant, was the exact picture of Iiis father; and the child Sholto, as like Lady Jane, as ever child was like a mother.
*' I have always considered likeness as an argument of a cliild's being the son of a parent, and the rather as the distinction between individuals in the human species, is more discernible than in other animals; a man may survey ten thousand people before he sees two faces perfectly alike ; and in an army of an hundred thous^ind men, every one may be known from another. If there should be a likeness of features, there may be a disaonancy of voice, a difference in the gesture, the smile, and various other things; whereas a family
likeness
io6
likeness runs generally through all these, for in every thing there is a resemblance, as of features, size, atti- tude, and action; and here it is a question whether the appellant most resembled his father, Sir John, or the younger Sholto resembled his mother. Lady Jane ? Many witnesses have sworn to Mr. Dguglas being of the same form and make of body as his father ; he has been known to be the son of Col. Stewart, by persons who had never seen him before ; and is so like his elder brother, the present Sir John Stewart, that, ex- cept by their age, it would be hard to distinguish the one from the other. ■ >
" If Sir John Stewart, the most artless of mankind, was actor in the enlevement of Mignon's and Sanry's children, he did in a few days what the acutest genius could not accomplish for years. He found two chil- dren; the one the finished model of himself; and the other, the exact picture, in miniature, of Lady Jane. It seems nature had implanted in the childrei? what is not in the parents ; for it appears in proof, that in size, complexion, stature, attitude, colour of the hair and eyes, nay, and in every other thing, Mignon and his wife, Sanry and his spouse, were toto ccelo, different from, and unlike to Sir John Stewart and Lady Jane Douglas. Among eleven black rabbits there will scarce be found one to produce a white one,
*^The respondent's cause has been well supported by the ingenuity of its managers, and great stress has been laid upon the not finding out the house where Madam Le Brun lived, and where the delivery was ef- fected ; but this is no way striking, if we consider that houses are frequently pulled down to make way for streets, and houses are built upon the ground where
streets
I07
streets ran before: of this there are dally examples in this metropolis. However, we need enter into no ar- guments of this kind, as there is a positive evidence before us ; nor is it possible to credit the witnesses, some of them of a sacred character, when they speak of Lady Jane's virtues, provided we can believe her to have been a woman of such abandoned principles, as to make a mock of religion, a jest of the sacrament, a scoff of the most solemn oaths, and rush with a lie in her mouth, and perjury in her right hand, into the pre- sence of the Judge of all, who at once sees the whole heart of man, and from whose all-discerning eye no secrecy can screen; before whom neither craft nor arti- fice can avail, nor yet the ingenuity and wit of lawyers can lessen or exculpate; on all which accounts, I am for finding the appellant to be the son of Lady Jane Douglas/'
*' The Lord's Protest on the Douglas Cause. Die LuTue, 27 Februariif 17^9- "Dissentient.
** Because upon the whole of the evidence it appears to us that the appellant has not proved himself to be the son of Lady Jane Douglas, and, consequently, not entitled to the character of Heir of Tailzee and provision to Archibald Duke of Douglas.
" Because we are of opinion that it is proved that the appellant is not the sou of Lady Jane Douglas."
Bedford. Bristol, C.P.S. Sandwich. DuNMORE. Milton.
" Letter
io8
" Letter from Lady Jane Douglas to the Honourable Henry Pelkam.
*' SIR,
** If I meant to importune you, I should ill de- serve the generous compassion which I was informed some months ago you expressed upon being acquainted with my distress. I take this as the least troublesome way of thanking you, and desiring you to lay my ap- plication before the King in such a light as your own humanity wiJl suggest. I cannot tell my story with- out seeming to complain of one, of whom I never will complain. I am persuaded my brother wishes me well; but, from a mistaken resentment, upon a creditor of mine demanding from him a trifling sum, he l>as stopt the annuity which he had always paid me. My father having left me, his younger child, in a manner, unprovided for, till the Duke of Douglas is set right, which I am confident he will be, I am destitute. Pre- sumptive heiress of a great estate and family, with two children, 1 want bread. Your own nobleness of mind will make you feel how much it costs me to beg, though from the King. My birih, and the attachment of my family,:! flatter myself, his Majesty is not unacquainted with; should he think me an object of his royal bounty, my heart won't suffer me to set any bounds to my gratitude; and give me leave to say, my spirit won't suffer me to be burdensome to his Majesty longer than my cruel necessity compels me.
"1 little thought of ever being reduced to petition in this J your goodness wil), therefore, excuse me, if I have mistaken the manner, or said any thing improper.
Though
109
Thoufrh personally unknown to you, I rely upon your intercession; the consciousness of your own mind, in having done so good and charitable a deed, will be a better return than the perpetual thanks of,
Sir, Your most obliged,
most faiihful, and
most obedient Servant,
Jane Douglas Stewart.'*
St. James's Place, May 15, 1750.
Art. XIV. Supplement to former Lists of Lite- rary Deaths, with brief Biographical Notices.
[continued from vol. VII. p. 431.]
1765. Dr. Grainger, M.D. Poet, at Antigua.
1767.
Mar. 31. Jacob Tonson, Esq. Bookseller.
Mar. 31. Rev. Dr. Lisle, Rector of Burclere, Hants.
Aug. 21. Thomas Osborne, Bookseller of Gray 's-Inn.
Sept, 11. Paul Spencer, Esq. near Londonderry, Ireland; a great antiquarian and traveller. In 1721 he luade draw- ings of the Egyptian pyramids, obelisksj and other curious remains of antiquity ihere,
Sept. 13. Malachy Postlethwayte, Esq.
Sept. 26. Sir Martin Wright, Judge of the King s Bench.
Oct. 6. Rev. Francis Wise, RadclifFe Librarian, &c. Ox- ford.
Oct, 19. Rev, Dr. Watkinson, Rector of Little Chart, in Kent, author of ^n Essay on Economy, and several other tracts.
Dec.
no
» - 7
Dec. 21. Dr. Leonard' Howard, Rector of St Gcorge'si Southwark, Editor of a Collection of State Letters, gcc.
Dec. 22. Mr. John Newbery, of St. Paul's Churchyard.
Dec. 22. Wm. Richardson, Esq. of Kensington, died in North America.
1769.
Jan. 4. Rev. James Meyrick, known to the world by his Translation of Tryphiodorus, and his elaborate notes on that ancient author, as well as by his Paraphrase of the Psalms, kc.
Jan. 6. Charles Sackville, Duke of Dorset, Poet.
Jan. 18. Peter Annct, well known for his Deistical ■writings.
Feb. 26. Wm. Duncombe, Esq in Margaret Street, Ca- vendish Square, act. 80, Translator of Horace, &c.
Feb. 2d. Mr. Derrick.
April 3. Rev. Zachariah Mudge. »
July 17. John Gray, Esq, F.R.S. well known to the learned world.
July 26. Mrs. Milton, a descendant from the brother of Milton, the Poet. She was housekeeper to Dr. Seeker.
Aug. 29 Edmund Hoyle.
Sept. 22. Dr. Peter Templeman, Secretary to the Society for the Encouragement of Arts.
Oct. 22. Owen RufFhead, Esq. well known for his literary talents ; author of the Life of Pope ; and lately appointed one of the Chief Secretaries to the Treasury.
1770. .
Jan. 9. Mrs. Katherine Talbot.
Jan. 20. Rt. Hon. Charles Yorke, Lord High Chancellor. Feb. 4. Rev. Mr. Harris, at Honiton, Devon, Historian and Biographer.
Mar. 9. Wm. Guthrie, Esq. Historian, &c.
Sept.
Ill
Sept. 5, Rev. Dr. Jortin, a learned Divine.
Oct. 1. At Newbury Port, New England, (he Rev. Geo. Whitfield, the celebrated Methodist.
Oct. 19. Mungo Murray, author of a Treatise on Ship- luilding, and many other useful tracts for Navigators.
Nov. 1. Alexander Cruden, Compiler of the Concordance.
Dec. 4, John, Eail of Egraont.
Dec. iG. Rev. Roger Long, D.D. aged 9I.
[To le continued,']
Art. XV; Literary Obituary.
1809. March /. Died Mr. Macdiarmid, oet. 29, author of The Lives of Brilhih Statesmen, in one vol. 4to. I&07, and of An Enquiry into the System of Military Defence in Great Britain, 2 vols. 8vo. 1805, and of An Enquiry into the Nature of Civil and Military Subordination, in one vol. 8vo. He was born \779> son of the minister of Weem in Perthshire, and was educated at the Universities of Edin- burgh and St. Andrews J and was afterwards for some years tutor in a respectable family. In 1801 he came to London a literary adventurer, and soon obtained a competent income from periodical writing. He was Editor of the St. James's Chronicle j and wrote criticisms for one of the Re- views. His health, at all times bad, received in November last an irreparable blow by a paralytic stroke. A second stroke in February deprived him of the use of his limbs, and he died a few weeks afterwards.
March 29. At Bush-hill, Edmonton, aet. 9I, Robert Kel- ham, Esq. the oldest Member of the two Societies of Lin- coln's Inn, and Staple Inn. He was son of the Rev. Robt. Kelham, for fifty years Vicar of BilHngborough, Threking- ham, and Walcot, Lincolnshire, who died J 752, aet. 75. He was author of an Index to Finer s Abridgment of Law artd Equity^ 21 vols.— of a new edition of Britton's Ancient
Pleas
112
pleas of the Crown, 1/62, Svo. — of Domesday s Book illus- trated, 8vo. — of A Dictionary of the Norman or Old French Language, I779y Svo. — and of The Dissertation of John Selden, annexed to Fleta, translated, uith notes, 1/81, 8vo.
April 1 . Mi. 63, Rev. W. Wood, Minister of MiU-HUl Ch.ipel, at Leeds.
April Ij. James Paull, Esq. late M. P. and since Candi- date for Westminster.
ilay 12. In the 53d year of bis age, Charles Henry Wil- son, E-q. late of the Middle Temple. Mr, Wilson was several years Editor of The Gaxetteer, and there are few daily or periodical publications of any standing which have not been occasionally indebted to his contributions. He was the author of The JVandering Islander, Polyanthea, BrooH' ana. Beauties of Burke, and many more original productions, compilations, and translations, to none of which would he suffer his name to be prefixed. His attainments were uni- versal. He was deeply versed in the antiquities and litera- lure of the Gk)thic, Scandinavian, and Celtic nations. He was a native of the North of Ireland, and migrated to the metropolis upwards of twenty years ago. Born to no for- tune, he ran his cafeer of life without doing more than to provide for the day which was passing over him, a fate not imcommon to men entering the world under the same cir- cumstances, and possessing similar endowments, joined to a strong relish for social enjoyment.
May 14. Of a violent inflammatory fever, aged Sg years, the Rev. Thomas Percy, LL.D. Fellow of St. John's Col- lege, Oxford, and nephew to the Bishop of Dromore. He edited the last editions of The Ballads.
To Correspondents.
The Report of Sales of Books for March and April 1808, is unavoidably postponed till the next Number.
T.Re««ley. Printer, B«dt Ccurt, Ficet Street, Londan,
CENSURA LITERARIA.
NUMBER XXX.
[Being Number XVIII. of the New Series.]
Art. I. A Small Specimen of the many Mistahes in Sir William Dugdale's Baronage, exhibited in some remarks on about half a page of that volumi- nous work. In a Letter, &fc. Lo?idon : Printed ly J. Watson, the corner of Church Court, over against Hungerford Market in the Strand. 1 730. Svo. pp, 66.
,Art. II. A Third Letter, containing some further . remarks on a few more of the mimberless errors ■ and defects in Dugdale^s Baronage : with occasional observations on some other Authors. Wherein also some occurrences of those Times are endeavoured to be set in a true light, London: Printed in the year 1738. Svo. Paged onward from the two for- mer Letters to p. 250.
These are the Animadversions of '' snarling Charles Hornby" of the Pipe Office. They only prove_, what every intelligent and candid critic might pre- viously have known, that such an extensive assemblage VOL, VIII. I of
114
of minute facts and dates was not compiled from ob- scure and recondite sources, without occasional errors, mistakes, omissions, and neglects ; and that in the accounts of such numerous families Dugdale could not labour the memorials of all, with the same tiresome and superfluous exactness, as if his whole attention had been confined to one or two. It would seem as if these microscopic critics expected that the eye which was ranging abroad over expanded scenes, over vil- lages, and towns, and cities, and a whole country, should at the same time confine all its attention to the accurate examination of the veins and fibres of a single flower. What Dugdale performed on the subject which he undertook appears, even at this day after so many succeeding labours, truly wonderful ; and nothing in the same class has since arisen aut simile aut se- cundum. We hear some " digging" herald, without education or literature, who has been poring all his life over parish registers, dry tables of naked genealogy and old wills, turn up his strange nose at Dugdale, be- cause forsooth he has discovered some blind marriage, or obscure younger brother, omitted by the historian; till at last it is probable the little fellow may imitate the frog in the fable, not only in his swelling, but in his fate! Such things are the natural fruits of such minds J and we feel the truth of a trite quotation, which every schoolboy has had given him for one of his earliest themes :
■ ■ didiclsse fideliter artes Emcllit mores, nee sinit esse feros!
The animadverter begins his letters with tlie fol- lowing passages.
"Sir,
115
"Sir,
" By an aclvettisement lately published I find that ohe Arthur Collins, Esq. has proposed to undertake a new Peerage of England. *
*' I atn a stranger lo the person and character of Arthur Collins, Esq. and know not how well enabled or assisted he may be to go through such an attempt ; but 1 have loi:g thought that a new work of that kind, Supported by an accurate examination of ancient records and historieSj without too much dependence on modern authors, may bie very useful and acceptable.
** Dugdale is esteemed by much the best writerj who has yet made a general treatise on this subject, for which he seemed aptly qualified, being very laborious and industrious, and having been furnished with a vast number of excellent materials, and favoured with op- portunities of access to public offices and libraries^ from whence a structure truly noble and worthy of the subject, might have been raised; but having more re- gard to his profit than his honour, and the work being very large and tedious, he did not allow himself time to examine and compare his vouchers, nor the tasks of his several amanuenses.
" By this inaccuracy, and perhaps some want of ca- pacity, his Baronage abounds with numberless errors and defects; many of which I have observed upon oc- casional inquiries relating to several persons and fami* lies of which he has treated. But having for my pri- vate satisfaction had more particular occasion to ex- amine the accounts given by him and others of that
• H» had published the earliest editlcm of suih a work in 1709 in one Vol. Svo. Editor.
I 2 familv.
1 16^ '
family, who were formerly Lords of Clare, and after- wards Earls of Gloucester and Hertford, I have made more observations on that part than the rest of his book.
" I shall at present go no further than what relates to the first of that family, who settled in England, and by whom it was transplanted out of Normandy, at the time of the Conquest."
The animadverter first denies the assertion of Dug- dale that Richard, the first of this family, was the son of Gilbert Earl of Brion in Normandy; and that that Earl was surnamed Crispin ; and also the addition De Benefacta. He then says that he confounds the time and story of his death with that of his grandson Richard Fitz-Gilbert by a wrong application of a passage in Giraldus Camlrensis, anno 1136. This is the prin- cipal object of the first letter.
He commences the second letter thus :
** I did not question, sir, but my last letter would sufficiently have tired you. Criticism and antiquities afford but dry entertainment unless to some peculiar palates. I assure you, I am weary of the business; it seems to rae like travelling in an ill road, upon a fruitless errand, where a man goes through a great deal of pains and trouble to little purpose; and I am apt to reflect, that my hours spent in researches of this kind, which are of so little concern to me, might be more profitably employed. But on the other hand, it is not unpleasant, nor wholly useless to look into past ages by the help of those mirrors, which reflect the images of objects absent and past, and bring the dead in a manner out of their dark graves, again upon the stage of the world, to set them before our eyes either
for
ni7
for example or caution; and it is but justice to those who cannot now vindicate themselves, to endeavour to set their actions and characters in a true light, where they are misrepresented.
** r shall therefore go on without more ceremony, and point out some other mistakes of the compiler of the Baronage; but shall confine myself to the family with which I begun, whereby I hope I shall avoid all suspicion of flattery, or hope of reward, from any new raised peer by pretending to deduce through a long series of ages the extraction of an atom of dust, which was picked out of the undistinguished heap but yester- day. Nor can I be thought ill naturcd when I do not go out of my way to look for faults; and to offer to go through the book would be launching into a boundless ocean, where I could never hope to see an end of my voyage."
The critic now proceeds to notice Dugdale's omis- sion of a son of Richard, and of the husband of one of his daughters. He then detects another misapplication of history, as recorded by Ordericus Vitalls. '^ Pray, Sir," says he, " will this complicated blunder pass for an ordinary instance of human frailty? Or will you honour it with the character of a master-piece in stu- pidity?"
After prying out and exaggerating several similar in- accuracies, he thus concludes his second letter:
" Thus ended this most noble family of Clare, concerning which I have observed more mistakes and blunders of the writer of the Baronage than should have been committed in a book of that kind; but not near all that are to be found in that part of it, of which I have left the greater part wholly unexamined. If I 3 any
any other persons have leisure or inclination to make a further inspection into his accounts of any other families, I dare assure them they will not want for matter, though I cannot think it will be worth the while, for this whole book is like a bell which is ill cast, and nothing will make it musical but being new melted down. What I have done is only to give such a caution that the author's great name may not con- tinue to encourage the propagation of his mistakes ; for whatever praise he may have had for his extraordi- nary industry in making collections relating to the an- tiquities of this nation, for which, perhaps, no person was ever favoured with so good opportunities, the use he has made of them cannot be justly commended.
** But to open myself to you as a friend I cannot think notwithstanding Wm. Lillie's (32) prediction on the accident of a hive of bees in his father's garden, at the time of his birth, that there is any parallel be- tween him and that laudably industrious animal. He has gathered his matter indifferently from weeds and flowers, and his ill-mixed compound has nothing of the sweetness or wholesomeness of honey. He had a greedy appetite to antiquities, but, like the ostrich, he swallowed whatever came in his way unchewed, and it passed through him undigested. He seems to have had little judgment in collecting and less care and un- derstanding in transcribing; and his manner of com- posing is still less excusable as it more affects other men. His avarice made him undertake burdens too heavy for his shoulders, and pushed him beyond his jpeed. His eye was so fixed on his chief end that he
(3») Fast o^oo. A. p, 1642 >
overlooked
tl9
overlooked the means of deserving either praise or profit. His works (I speak as to that before me) seem to have been patched up by the help of alphabets, and from whatever occurred, which either by himself or his illiterate amanuenses was thought to the pre- sent purpose; extracts were crudely huddled together, without any regard to truth or probability, or the con- sistence of one part with another, which is the reason that in any fact wherein any plurality of persons is concerned, whereby it comes to be related in several places, it is very rare if such relations are not materially different and sometimes none true. The margin of this book T own I have found useful, as it directs the nearest way to better information ; but his authorities there are in general so erroneously vouched that they give no evidence to the purposes for which they are produced, so that there is no depending upon him without examining his witnesses. In fine, his disa- greeing fragments of unhewed materials are so unart- fully disposed and so coarsely laid together that the whole heap seems to me no better than rudis indiges- taque moles: perhaps you may think I have dealt too freely with a book which has preserved a fair reputa- tion almost sixty years, which some old maids have done only by not] being attacked; whoever will try further, will find that credit and esteem it justly de- serves."
Art. III. All Ovid' s Elegies : 3 hookes. By C\hris- toplier] M[arlow]. Epigrams ly [Sirl Jlphiil D\avii\ at Mlddlelourgh [printed about 1598] 8vo. 48 leaves.
; . , 14 Marlow's
r2o
Marlow's translation of Ovid's Elegies was so strongly tainted with the licentious obscenity of the original, that the volume was condemned, and burnt at Stationer's Hall, by an order of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London, dated June i, 1599. Of the last elegy of Book I. there is a second translation given by Ben Jonson. The similarity of language and rhime leaves it doubtful if it was more than a revisal of Marlow's copy. As the least exceptionable specimen, and forming no incurious context, they are selected on the present occasion.
" Elegia 15.
'* Ad invidosj quod fama poetarum sit perennis.
" Envie, why carpest thou my time is spent so iI|,3'^"'^J
And term'st my workes fruits of an idle quillj g
Or that unlike the line from whence I come, u
Warres rustic honours are refus'd being young.
Nor that I study not the brawling lawes.
Nor set my voyce to sale in every cause.
Thy scope is mortall, mine eternal] fame.
That all the world may ever chaunt my name.
Homer shall live while Tenedos stands and Ide,
Or into sea swift Simois doth slide :
Ascraeus lives, while grapes with new wine swell.
Or men with crooked sickles come downe fell.
The world shall of Callimachus ever speake.
His art excell'd, although his witte was weakc.
For ever lasts high Sophocles proud vainej
With sunne and moone Aratus shall remaine.
"While bond-men cheat, fathers hoord, bawds whorish,^.
And strumpets flatter, shall Menander flourish.
Rude Ennius, and Plautus full of wilt.
Are both in fame's eternal! legend writt.
What
What age of Varroe's name shall not be tolde. And Jason's Argos and the fleece of golde ? Lofty Lucretia shall live that howre. That nature shall dissolve this earthly bower! ^neas warre, and Tityrus shall be read "While Rome of all the conquered world is head. .Till Cupid's bowe and fiery shafts be broken. Thy verses, sweet Tibullus, shall be spoken ! And Gallus shall be knowne from east to west. So shall Ltcoris, whom he loved best. Therefore when flint and iron weare away. Verse is immortally and shall nere decay. To verse let kings give place, and kingly showes, ;" And bankes ore which gold-bearing Tagus flowes. Let base conceited wits admire vilde things, Fairc Phoebus lead me to the Muses' springs; About my head the quivering myrtle wound. And in sad lover's heads let me be found. The living, not the dead, can envie bite. For after death all men receive their right. Then though death rakes my bones in funerall fire, I'le live, and as he puis me downe mount higher."
** The same ly B, I. *' Envie, why twitst thou me, my time's spent ill ? And call'st my verse, fruites of an idle quill ? Or that (unlike the line from whence I sprong) War's dustie honours I pursue not young ? Or that I study not the tedious lawes; And prostitute my voyce in every cause ? Thy scope is mortall j mine eternall fame. Which through the world shall ever chaunt my name. Homer will live, whilst Tenedos stands, and Ide, Or to the sea fleet Simois doth slide : And so shall Hesiod too, while vines doe beare, Pr crooked sickles crop the ripened care.
Callimachus,
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Caffimachus, though in invention lowe,
Shall still be sung, since hce in arte doth flowr.
No losse shall come to Sophocles proud vainej
"With Sonne and moone Aratus shall remaine.
Whilst slaves be false, fathers hard, and bauds be wborish.
Whilst harlots flatter, shall Menander florish.
Ennius, though rude, and Accius high-rcar'd straine,
A fresh applause in every age shall gaine.
Of Yarro's name, what earc shall not be told ?
Of Jason's Argo ? and the fleece of golde ?
Then, shall Lucretius loftie numbers die.
When earth and seas in fire and flames shall frie.
Titirus tillage, JEney shall be read.
Whilst Rome of all the conquer'd, world is head.
Till Cupid's fires be out, and his bowe broken.
Thy verses (neate TibuUus) shall be spoken.
Our Gallus shall be knowne from east to west;
So shall Licoris whom he now loves best ;
The sufiering plough-share or the flint may weare j
But heavenly Poesie no death can feare.
Kings shall give place to it, and kingly showcs.
The bankes ore which gold-bearing Tagus flowes.
Kncelc hindes to trash ; let me bright Phoebus swell.
With cups full flowing from the Muses' well;
The frost-drad myrtle shall impale my head.
And of sad louers He be often read.
* Envie the liuing, not the dead doth bite.
For after death all men receive their right.*
Then when this body falls in funerall fire.
My name shall live, and my best part aspire."
' The Epigrams, attributed to Sir John Davis, are forty-eight in number. As a contemporary with Shak- speare, the locality of the satirist will be found amusing in the following selection.
" Jd
i«3
^^ Ad Musam. i.
*' Flic merry Muse vnto that merry towne.
Where thou maist playes, revels, and triuraphes see, The house of fame, and theatre of renowne,
"Where all good wittes and spirits loue to be. Fall in betweene their hands, that love and praise th^
And be to them a laughter and a lest j But as for them which scorning sball reprove thee,
Disdaine their wits and thinke thine one the best. But if thou finde any so grose and dull.
That think I doe to private taxing leanej Bid him go hang, for he is but a gull ;
And knowes not what an Epigramme does meancj Which taxeth vnder a peculiar name, A generall vice, which merits publique blame."
« Of a Gull. 2.
" Oft in my laughing rimes I name a gull.
But this new terme will many questions breede. Therefore at first I will expresse at full,
Who is a true and perfect Gull indeed. A gull is he, who feares a veluet gowne.
And when a wench is brave, dares not speake to her: A gull is he which traverseth the towne.
And is for marriage knowne a common woer. A gull is he, which, while he proudly weares
A silver hiked rapier by his side, Indures the lyes and knockes about the eares.
Whilst in his sheath his sleeping sword doth bide. A gull is he which weares good hansome cloaihes.
And stands in presence stroaking vp his hayrej And filles vp his vnperfect speech with oathes.
But speakes not one wise word throughout theyeare. Bwt to define a gull in termes precise, A ^uU is he which sceaies^ and i> not wise."
U4
<* In Rufum. 3. [From 14 lines.] «* Rvfus the courtier, at the theater.
Leaving the best and vncst conspicuous place. Doth either to the stage himselfe transferre.
Or through a grate doth shew his double face; For that the clamorous fry of Innes of Court
Fills up the private roomes of greater pricej And such a place, where all may have resort.
He ia his singularity doth despise," " In Faustum. 7. *' Faustus not lord, nor knight, nor wise, nor old,
To every place about the townc doth ridej He rides into the fields playes to behold j
He rides to take boate at the water side. He rides to Paules, he rides to th' ordinary.
He rides unto the house of bawdery too. Thither his horse doth him so often carry.
That shortly he will quite forget to goe." ** In Ciprum. 22. " The fine youth Ciprius is more tierse and neate
Then the new garden of the old temple is ; And still the newest fashion he doth get.
And with the time doth change from that to this. He weares a hat now of the flat-crowne-blocke.
The treble ruffes, long cloake, and doublet French; He takes tobacco, and doth weare a locke.
And wastes more time in dressing then a wench. Yet this new fangled youth, made for these times. Doth, above all, praise old George Gascoine's* rimes."
" In Galium, 44. " Gallus hath bin this summer-time in Friesland,
And now returned he speakes such warlike words, , As if I could their English vnderstand,
I feare me they would cut my throat like swords.
• A ipirited and weU>executed copy of the head of Gascoigne, frftm his works, has been lately made in block, at a fac-simile, for Mr. Stacc.
He
He talkes of counterscarfes and casortates.
Of parapets, of curtene)^ and palhzadoes. Of flankers, ravelings, gabions he prates.
And of false baits, and sallies and scaladoes* But to requite such gulling tearmes as these.
With words of my profession * I reply ; I tell of fourching, vouchers, and counterpleas,
Of withermans, essoynes, and charaparty. So neither of vs vnderstanding one another, "We part as wise, as when we came together."
*^ In Hayivodum. 29.
'* Haywood that did in epigrams excell, ^
Is now put downe since my light Muse arose;
As buckets are put downe into a well. Or as a school-boy putteth downe his hose."
" In Dacum. 30.
" Amongst the poets Dacus numbred is.
Yet could he never make an English rime, 1 But some prose pieces I have heard of his.
Which have bin spoken many a hundreth time. The man that keeps the elephant hath one.
Wherein he tells the wonders of the beast ; »' Another Bankes pronounced long a-gon.
When he his curtailes qualities exprest. He first taught him, that keepes the monuments
At Westminster, his formall tale to sayj And also him which puppets represents.
And also him which with the ape doth play : . Though all his poetrie be like to this. Amongst the poets Dacus numbred is."
* This allusion to the profession of the law confirm* the general ap- propriation of the Epigrams to Sir John Daris at author.
''In
tz6
" In Publium. 43. •* Publius, student at the common law,
Oft leaves his bookes, and for his recreation To Pans-garden doth himselfe withdrawe.
Where he is ravisht with such delectation. As downe amongst the bearcs and dogges he goes.
Where wfailbl he skipping cries, head to head. His satten doublet and his veluet hose,
Are all with spittle from aboue be-spreadj When he is like his father's country stall.
Stinking with dogges, and muted all with haukes j And rightly too on him this filth doth fall.
Which for such filthy sports his bookes forsakesj Ixaving old Ploj. den. Dyer, and Brooke alone. To see old Harry tiunkes, and Sacarson."
** Meditations of a Gull 47. : * See yonder melancholic gentleman.
Which, hoode-winked with his hat, alone doth sit; Think what he thinkes and tell me if you can>
What great afF&ires troubles bis little wit. He thinks not of the war twixt France and Spalne,
Whether it be for Europ's good or ill ; Nor whether the empire can it selfe maintaine
Against the Turkish power encroching still; Nor what great towne in all the Netherlands
The states determine to besiege this spring ; Nor how the Scottish pollicy now stands.
Nor what becomes of the Irish mutining. But he doth seriously bethinke him, whether
Of the gul'd people he bee more esteem'd For his long cloake, or his great blacke feather.
By which each gull is now a gallant deem'd. Or of a journey he deliberates.
To Paris- garden, cock-pit, or the play; Or how to steale a dog he meditates.
Or what he shall unto his mistresse say;
Yet I
157
Yet with those thoughts he thinkes himselfc most fit To be of counsell with a king for wit."
" Jd Musam. 48.
'^ Peace, idle Muse ! have done, for it is time.
Since lowsie Ponticus envies my fame.
And sweares the better sort are much to blame To make so well known for my ill rime ; Yet Bankes his horse is better knowne then he j
So are the cammels and the westerne dogj
And so is Lepidus his printed dog; Why doth not Ponticus their fames enviej Besides this Muse of mine and the blacke feather
Grew both together in estimation. And both, growne stale, were cast away together.
What fame is this that scarce lasts out a fashion ? Onely this last in credit doth remaine.
That from hence-forth, each bastard cast forth rime. Which doth but savour of a libell vainc.
Shall call me father, and be thought my crime j So dull and with so little sence endu'd, Is my grose-headed judge the multitude. J. D."
Conduit-street. J. H.
Art. IV. The Traveller of lerome Turler, devided into two hookes. The first contcining a notable discourse of the maner and order of trazieiling ouersea, or into straimge and forrein countreys. The second comprehending an excellent description <f the most delicious realme of Naples in Italy. A woorke very pleasaunt for all persons to reade and right pi ofitable and necessarie vnto all such as are minded to traueyll. Imprinted at London hy JVil-
Ham
128
Ham How for Alraham Veale. 1575. pp. 19!?, heiides introduction. Folded in eights,
Jerome Turler, from the term '^ our country," used at p. 34, appears to have been a native of Germany, Whether the work is a translation is not stated. That the author had visited England is apparent, in de*? scribing Henry the Seventh's tomb, and in other passages. He appears to have been an acute observer, and his precepts contain many judicious remarks, and reasonable suggestions, worthy the attention of a young traveller.
Tlie preface is addressed '* to the Right Honourable and renowmed Barons^ the Lord George, Hugh and Vitus, brethren of the auncient house of the Schom- lurges. Lordes of Glaucha and Waldenburgey lerome Turler sendeth greeting.
'^•Ryght Honorable and renoumed Barons, it is nobly written by Isocrates that children oughte too keepe their father's friends as dilige tly, as they woulde their owne inheritance; and your father of worthie memorie loued my father deerely; and he liued to- gether with your grandfather many yeeres in the courte of Duke George the noble Duke of Saxonie, and he was borne, in the dayes of your greatgrandfather, of Austine Turler his faiher, who was then consul! of Lesnich, which towne is vndcr your jurisdiction at this day, and whereof rpy vncle is nowe at this present consuU, one whom yee knowe ryghtwell."
Then follows the table of contents, names of authors cited, and the singular inscription at Bononie upon Alia Loelia Crispis.
In a chapter upon the effect of travel the writer says
"the
2^9
" the commoditie and profit of trauellng is dispersed throughout and in all things of the world, and there is no humane actions or trade to be founde but it may bee bettered and holpen by traueil. And y'. I may say nothing of vile artes, are not all artes and trades according to the diuersitie of them, better exercised in one place then another? — In Germanie, Italic, Fraunce and Spayne, the art of printing is much vsed, but among the Getes it is not knowne, and not onely cuntreys far distant hence do practize other artes, but also those that be neerc vnto vs, as the art of printing is as much frequented in England as in Germanic and Fraunce: in Ireland it is nothing so, and yet Ireland lyeth neere vnto England and vnder obedience to y^. same Queene. The Englishmen ar excellent archers, but the Irishmen bee better, and more experte iu swimming ; excellingc all other nacions of Europe in running and diuing vnder water."
"The properties of the foure principal nations of Europe — that is to say, Germans, Frenchmen, Italians, and Spaniardesj these nacyons differ sundryc wayes one from another, as, in gesture, gate, voyce, singinge, talke, meanynge, humanytie, conuersation, loue, ha- tred, affaires, warfare, and other things. Wherefore briefly to set down the effect of the matter, and to come to the purpose, the Germane hath y^. gesture of a cutter or ruffian, the gate of y^. cock, a firce looke, a manly voyce, rude behauiour, variable apparell, and nothinge hansome. The Frenchman hath a soft gate, a moderate pace, a milde countenaunce, a pleasaunt voyce, a redy tongue, modest demeanure, immoderate apparell. The Italian hath a slow gate, a graue gea- VOL. VIII. K ture,
130
ture, an Inconstance couiitenaunce^ a lowe voyce, an hasty speache, magnificall behauiour, vndecent and vnseemlye apparell. The Spaniard a commendable gate, maners, and gesture, a proude looke, a flexible voyce, a fine speach, [and] exquisite apparel. The Germans howle in their singinge except the Dutchmen, who of them all doo singe indeede. The Frenchmen doo recorde, the Spaniardes grone, and the Italians bleat like sheep. [This parallel is continued through various particulars attached to the characters of each country. In describing the other sex he says] Spanish weemen are proud in theyr apparell and goyng, the Italian weemen graue and neate, the Frenchweemcn lyght, the Germane weemen variable and foolish. And vnderstand that I speake heere of the higher Gernia- nie, for the Dutche weemen are more ciuill, more graue in goyng, and more giuen to learne straunge tongues then of any other nation, by reason of the traficque of mercha'dize which much flourisheth among 'them, hauing England, Scotland, Fraunce, and the higher Germany, neare neighbors vnto them, and are gouerned by y*. King of Spaine."
The first book is. divided into nine chapters briefly describing various points commendable and necessary in the pursuits of a traveller. The second book has twenty chapters, each containing an account of some place of notoriety.
In the citie of Pozolo on the sea-shore are " to bee seene the bones of a man's bodyes of monstrous byg- nesse, vppon which Pomponius Loetus, a most dili- gent searcher out of antiquities, wrote this inscrip- ^ tion :
" Who so thou art that heere amaz'd dost stand. To see the hugie bones of giantes fellj
Come vnderstand why in Hetrurie lande They do abide. This doth the storie tell. When in this place Alcides once did dwell.
And from th' Iberi, conquerour came away.
His beasts he draue along these fields, they say.
Then from this hill that Dicarcheum hight. With bended bow & weightie club in hand.
These typhous tall & giants maine of might He draue away, and quite expulst the land j This wicked broode could not the god withstand;
But part anon to Hydrus forth them sped.
And part for succour to the Tuskans fled.
Howbeit yet this cause of wofull dread. That might vnto ech plage by them ensue.
Was sone extinct when all these fends wer dead. Whose blood the ground in ech place did imbrue. Posteritie, to shew that this was true.
Their bodies keepc of mighty lim and bones.
To shew the world such men there liued ones."
At Naples " Sainct Marie churche de Carbona, is very mutch frequented for deuocion sake, whiche is a house of religion not farre from the merket place, by reason whereof it hath in it a number of vowed tables, and two chappels all of marble faste beeside the higher altare. Within the altare is a tumbe wherin reste the bodies of Robert Kinge of Naples and his wyfe, verye sumptuous, insomutt-h that the report goeth that there is neuer a peece of woorke to be found in all Europe of greater maiestie then that is. Howbeit if not faierer then this, yet in my opinion, match vnto it is that, wherein lyeth the bodie of William Grouis and K 2 his
132
his wife in Bclgicum or Dulchlande, rtot farre from Louane at the castle of Heft'ria; likewise the tumbe of Mauritius of Saxonie, one of the Dukes Electours at Friburge in Hermonduris, and that also wherin his wvfe lieth at Vimaria, in Thuringe, and moreouer the same which is builded at Heidclburge, in the mcmorie of Duke Palatine, Duke Electour. Truly these 4 tumbes whiche I haue nowe named, are the most prin- cipal! of all that euer I sawe either in ItaJye,or Frauncc, or Germanic, or in England; for, as for Spaync, T was neuer there. But amongst al that ar scene in any of these aboue named regions made of brassc, or copper, in my iudgeraent the tumbe of Kingc Henrie the Seuenth King of Englande surpasscth the residew, whiche standeth in (he abbey of Westminster nigh to the citie of London, with an inscription in Latine verses, which may thus bee Englished.
'* Kinge Henrie the Seuenth heere lleth in this pl;5ce^ The gloric of all kinges that liued at his age.
In wit, and wealth and deedes of noble grace ; To whom befell the gifts of nature for vauntagp; A prlncelie countenauncej a fauour graue and sage,
A comly personage, and bewtie heroicall ;
And cch poinct of venustie ioyned therwithal).
Vnto him was coupled in wedlock's pleasant band An amiable Spouse in beautie right diuine,
Bashfull and verteous and like a frutefull land,
Plentifull of children, sprong forth of princely line; Right happie parentes their issue so doth shine.
• To whom, o England these thanks thou owest of righ^.
That euer Henrie the 8. was borne into thy sight.
" All the whole toumbe is gilten ouer and it shineth faire, being round beset with precious stones ;
but
133
but of the meanest sorte, it hath in it also many turned and carued pillers, and very lyke vnto this are the monumentes of the kinges of Fraunce in Sainct Denise churche."
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. V. The Second Pari of Greenes ncuer too late.
[cotJTINUED FROM t. l6.]
Francesco on the morrow was full of irresolution " to go home to his wife to faire Isabel, that was as hard a censure as the sentence of death; for shame of his follies made him ashamed to shew his face to a woman of so high deserts;" several days passed, his score increased till the hostess refused to trust. Having neither coin nor credit, and " his owne honour per- swading him from making gaine by labor, as he had neuer bin brought vp to any mcchanicall course of life; — he called to mind that hee was a scholler, and that although in these daies art wanted honor, and learning lackt his due, yet good letters were not brouoht to so low an ebbe, but that there might some profit arise by them to procure his maintenance. In this humor he fell in amongst a company of players, who persuaded him to try his wit, in writing of come- dies, tragedies, or pastorals: and if he could performe any thing worth the stage, then they would largely reward him for his paines. Francesco glad of this motion, seeing a means to mitigate the extremity of his want, thought it no dishonor to make gaine of his wit, or to get profit by his pen; and therefore getting him home to his chamber, writ a comedy, which so K 3 generally
134
generally pleased all the audiencej that happy were those actors in short time that could get any of his workes, he grew so exquisite in that facultie. By this ineane his want was releiued, his credit in his host's house recouered, his apparell in greater brauerie then it was, and his purse well lined with crownes.
** At this discourse of Francesco, the gentleman tooke his guest by the hand, and broke off his tale thus. Now, gentle palmer, seeing we are fallen by course of prattle to parlee of plaics, if without offence, doe me that fauour to shew me your iudgement of playes, play-makers, and players. Although, (quoth the palmer) that some for being too lauish against that facuity, 'iaue for their satyrical inuectiues bin vvel can- uased; ycc seeing there is none but ourselues, and that I hope what you heare shall be trodden vnder foote, I will flatly say what I can, both euen by reading and experience." — This dissertation is confined to the Roman stage, concludmg his ^' opinion briefly of plaies, that Menander deuised them for the suppressing of vanities, necessary in a common wealth, as long as they are vsed in their right kind; the play-makers worthy of honour for their art; and players, men de- seruing both praise and profit, as long as they wax neither coaetous nor insolent."
The acquisition of money by Francesco induces In- fida to make unavailing attempts for the recovery of his affections, and while he is committed to the making of some strange comedy, the assault is shewn of for- tune upon Isabel, whom the lechery of a burgo-master and testimony of a suborned witness are the means of throwing into prison, which ends in the confusion of the accusers and herself " reckoned more famous for
her
■ ^3S
her chastity through all Caerbrancke.'^ This event is related at an ordinary in the presence of Francesco^ where a gentleman brought in Isabel as " a mirrour of chastity, and added this more, th^t shee was mar- ried to a gentleman of ripe wit, good parentage, and well skild in the liberall sciences, but, quoth he, an vnthrift, and one that hath bin from his wife sixe yeeres. At this all the table condemned him as pas- sing vnkinde, that could wrong so vertuous a wife with absence."
This conversation awakens repentance, and Fran- cesco resolved to leave Troynouant. On the day of departure his friends made a banquet which is attended with a circumstance not to be omitted.
'' One amongst the rest, who loued Francesco so tenderly, tooke a cup of wine in his hand, and wiih teares in his eies said thus: Francesco, T haue nothing to giue thee, being myself pinched with want, but some precepts of wit that I haue bought with much experience, those shalt thou haue at my hands, which if thou put in practice thinke I haue giuen much trea- sure.
'' The farewell of a friend.
1. Let God's worship be thy morning's worke, and his wisedome the direction of thy daie's labour.
2. Rise not without thanks, nor sleep not without repentance.
3. Choose but a few friends, and try those j for the flatterer speakes fairest.
4. If thy wife be wise, make her thy secretary; else locke thy thoughts in thy heart, for women are seldome silent.
5. If she be faire, be not iealousj for suspition cures not women's follies.
K 4 6. If
13^
6. If she be wise, wrong her not 3 for if thou louest others, she will loath thee.
7. Let thy children's nurture bee their richest por- tion : for wisedome is more precious then wealth.
8. Be not proud amongst thy poore neighbours ; for a poore man's hate is perillous.
9. Nor too familiar with great men : for presump- tion winnes disdaine.
10. Neither bee too prodigal! in thy fare, nor die not indebted to thy belly; enough is a feast.
11. Be not enuious, lest thou fall in thine owne thoughts.
12. Vse patience, mirth and quiet: for care is enemy to health."
After breakfast they brought him a mile out of the city, where they receive
** Francescoe's Sonnet, called his parting How.
'* Reason that long in prison of my will.
Hast wept thy mistris wants and losse of time. Thy wonted siege of honour safely clime.
To thee I yeeld as guiltie of mine ill.
Loe (fettered in their teares) mine eyes are prest. To pay due homage to their natiue guide : My wretched heart wounded with bad betide^
To craue his peace, from reason is addrest.
My thoughts asham'd, since by themselues consum'd, Haue done their duty to repentant wit: Asham'd of all, sweet guide, I sorry sit, .
To see in youth how I too farre presum'd :
That he whom loue and errour did betray, Subscribe! to thee, and takes the better way.
Scro sed serio."
Five
5
Five days ends the journey to Caerbranke. Fran- cesco "at the first sight of his wife, considering the excellency ot her beauty, her vertues, chastitie, and other perfections, and measvvring her constancie with his disloyalty, stoode as a man metamorphosed; at last he begun thus. Ah Isabell, what shall I say to thy fortimes or my follies ? What exordium shall I vse to shew my penance, or discouer my sorrowes, or ex- presse my present ioycs? For I tell thee 1 conceiue as great pleasure ^o see thee well, as grief in that I haue wronged thee with my absence. Might sighes (Isabel) teares, plaints, or any such exterior passions, pourtray out my inward repentance, I would shew thee the anatomy of a most distressed man; but amongst many sorrowing thoughts, there is such confusion, that su- perfluitie of griefes stops the source of my discontent. To figure out my follies, or the extremities of my fan- cies, were but to manifest the bad course of my life; and to rub the scar, by setting out mine owne scathe, and therefore let it suffice I repent hartily, I sorrow deeply, and meane to amend and continue in the same constantly. At this Francesco stood and wept, which Isabel seeing, concciued by his outward griefe his se- cret passions, and therefore taking him about the neck, wetting his cheekes with the teares that fel from her eyes, she made him this womanly and wise answer. What, Francesco, commest thou home full of woes, or seekest thou at thy returne to make me weepe; hast thou been long absent, and now brins:est thou mee a treatise of discontents? I see thou art pcni - tent, and therefore I am like not to heare what follies are past. It sufficeth for Isabel; that henceforth thou
wilt
wilt loue Isabel, and vpon that condition, without any more wordes, welcome to Isabel. With that, she smiled and wept, and in doing both together, sealed vp all her contrarie passions in a kisse."
Then follows " tiie Host's tale" who made great cheer t6 welcome Francesco home. This tale, or epi- sode, is very long, and appears to have been written for the purpose of extending the work. At the end "thus (quoth the Palmer) you haue heard the discouery of youth's follies, and a true discourse of a gentleman's fortunes. But now, courteous Palmer, (quoth the gentleman) it restes that we craue, by your owne promise, the reason of your pilgrimage to Venice, That (quoth the Palmer) is discourst in a word: for know, sir, that iniovning my seife to penance for the follies of my youth's passions, hauing lined in loue, and therfore reape all my losse by loue: hearing that of all the cities in Europe Venice hath most semblance of Venus' vanities, I goe thither, not oncly to see fashions, but to quip at follies, that I may draw others from that harme that hath brought me to this hazard.
*' The gentlewomen of Venice, your neighbors, but vnknowne to me, haue more fauours in their faces, then vertue in their thoughts; and their beauties are more curious theii their qualities be precious, caring more to be figured out with Helen, then to be famoused with Lucrece: they striue to make their faces gorgeous, but neuer seeke to fitte their minds t» their God, and couet to haue more knowledge in loue then in religion; their eyes bewray their wantonnesse, not their modesty, and their lookes are lures that re- claims
^39
daime not hawkes, but make them only balte at dead stales. As the gentlewomen, so are the men, loose liners, straight louers, such as hold their cd'sciences in their purses and their thoughts in their eies, counting that houre ill spent that in fancy is not misspent. Because therfore this great city of Venice is holdcn loue's paradice, ihither do I direct my pilgrimage, that seeing their passions I may, being a palmer, win them to penance by shewing the miseries that Venus mixeth with their momentary contents; if not, yet I shall carry home to my countrimen salues to cure their sores; I shall see much, heare little, and by the in- sight into other men's extremes, returne more wary, meaning then to visile you, and make you priuie to all.
/' The heedful host hauing ludicially vnderstood the pittiful report of the Palmer, giuing truce to his pas- sions, with the teares he shent, and resolucd to requite that thankfully which he had attended heedfully, gauc this catastrophe to his sad and sorrowfull discourse. * Palmer, thou hast with the ritrell foreshewed the stormc ere it comes, painting out the shapes of loue, as liuely as the grapes in Zeuxis tables were pourtraycd cuimingly ; thou hast lent youth engle's eyes to behold the sun : Achilles sword to cut and recure, leaning those medicines to salue others, that hath lost thyselfc, and hauing burnt thy wings with the ilie by dallying too long with the fire; thou hast bequeathed others a lesson with the vnicorne, to preuent poyson by pre- serues before they taste with the lip.'
''The Palmer set forward towards Venice : what there he did, or how hee lined, when I am aduertised (good gentlemen) I will send you tidings. Meane while,
let
ler?tJery one Icarne (by Francescoe's fall) to bewafi% lest at last (too late) they be inforced to bewaile. Finis."
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. VI. Camden's Gifts of Arms. Extracted from Morgan's Sphere of Gentry.
[continued from vol. VII. p. 258.]
Durham. 139. //o?ij5ow, Bishop of Durham. Quar- terly Ar. 8c S. 4 roundels counterchanged. Oxford. 140. Sir IVm. Greeny 1605. Confirmation.
Az. 3 bucks pass. O. a mullet for difference. 141. 37/0. S'alber, D.D. 14 Mar. 1605. O. a fess
entr. 3 lion's heads coupee, blood dropping
from their mouths, Gu. Glouc. 142. X>fln. FoM'/er de Stonehouse. Quarterly
O & B. in the first quarter a hawk's lure O. Glouc. 143. Rd. Wood de Brockthorp. A. a chevr.
engr. entr. 3 lis gu. Glouc. 144. Stephens de Essington. Per chevr. B &.
A. 2 eagles volant in chief O. Salop. 145. Proud. Or, chevron barry gu & S. Norfolk. 146. .K^erc/jer, D.D. Apr. 1606. A 3 cross -
lets on chief B. 3 bezants. Bucks. 147. Wm. Brook, of Buckingham. Confirm,
1605. A. on bend S. a lure with the line
A. chiefs. 148. Souch. Confirm. G. 10 besants, on canton
O. a lozenge vert, charged with a lis A. Glouc. 149. £oM/5er de Stone. Confirm. i6o5. Erm.
cross checquy entr. 4 bougets G.
Glouc,
141
Glouc. 150. John Crane, Clerk of the Kitchen to K.
James, son of John, son of Wm. 1606. G.
on fess O. 3. annulets B, entr. 3 cross for
mees fitchV) O. London. 151. Sir Humphrey Weld, Lord Maj'or,
Confirm. 1606. B. fess. nebulee Erm. entr.
3 crescents Erhi.
152. Tho. Bennetf Mayor. G. besant entr. 3 demi
lions.
153. Sir Robert fiitcham,* Confirm. 1604. G. on
chief O. 3 torteauxes.
154. Sir Tho. Glover. April 1604. S. chevron
Erm. entr. 3 crescents A.
155. Sir Wm. Herick. A. fess vairee O. 8c G.
156. Cawley. A lion ramp. S. a border engrailed
S. entoire mullets A.
157. Covenlri/ of the Temple. S. fess Erm. entr.
3 crescents O. Glouc. 158. Codringion de Codrington. Confirm. A
fess battclle S. entr. 3 lions pass. G. Lond. 159. Richard Langley, Town Clerk of Lond,
A. fess S. in chief 3 Gunstoncs. Chester. 160. FolviUe, commonly called Fowell.
Confirm. 1599. G. cross arg. a cross moline
O piercing the chief. 161. Barmvell de Cranesley, confirmed by Wm.
Harvey, 1566 and by Wm. Camden. G.
saltier ragule A. entr. 4 crescents A.
• John Gibbon ha« the following tart MS. note on this ; " [-litcham'« Confirmation was a piece of armorial knavery. Hii father wjs a very poor man, aftd never pretended to arms :
" f SEtet Hcraldorum fraus spiirca per omnia s.cla."
Dorset.
142
Dorset. 162. Sir Geo. Somers of Boxolm. Mar. 1604.
Vert, fess dauncee Erm. London. 163. Rd. Poyntell, June 161 1. Lozengy,
Barry A. & G. on chief B. 3 etoils O.
164, Tho, Waite. 1611. A chevr. S. entr. 3 bugle
horns with strings S.
165. Sir Rd. Gray, Secretary in Ireland, July
1613. A. 3 bars B. 3 annulets in chief G. Hereford. 166. i? J. CoZZm5 of Upton, Confirm. 16 12.
V. griffin Segr. O. crescent O. ' London. 167. Tho, Cordalt, Mercer. Confirm. Jan.
1613. G. chevr. engr. Erm. entr. 3 griffins
heads erased Erm. Ebor. 168. Skeres de Ebor. 16 12. Arg. on bend 3 es- callops entr. lion ramp, in chief, and 3 leaves
in bend in base. 169. Do. Neal of Westminster, 1612. Erm. lion
ramp. G. entr. 3 right hands G. 17c. Tho. Seal, Clerk of the Chequer, O. fess. B.
entr. 3 wolves' heads erased S. Norfolk. 171. Roh. Shepherd of Kirby Bedon 1599.
A. on chief indented G. 3 pole axes O.
173. Milner. Erm. 3 wolves' heads couped proper. Lond. 173. Edw. Lister, M. D. ao April 1602.
Erm. on fess betw. 2 cotises S. 3 mullets O.
174. Sir John Prettiman. G. lion pass. betw. 3
mullets O. Kent. 175. Rt. Walthew de Dartford, Serjeant of the
Confectionary, 10 Jan. 1611. S. lion ramp.
entr. 3 mural crowns O. London, 176. Hill, G. 2 bars Erm in chief lion pass.
O.
Stafford.
H3
Stafford. 177. Hl-ghlwick. B. on chevr. A. 3 pheons G entre 3 lions pass O,
178. John Dix, D.D. Confirm. 1612. B. on bend
O^ 3 martlets G. on chief A. a crescent entr. 2 bucks heads couped S.
179. Brent of Oxford. Jan. 161 3. G. a wyvern A.
the crest a demy wyvern Erm. wings A. Lend. 180. Bruges, 1612,* A. on plaia cross Er- mines, a leopard's face O.
Midd.
* It maybe a good opportunity to give a pedigree of the family to whom this grant of arms was made, as it has caused some confusion with the pedigree of the Chaudos family, by the half-learned in geneaiogj, or by wil- ful mistakers. John Bridges, alias Bruges of London, merchant, son of John Bridges of Lo vet- Wood, Co. Giouc. son of John Bridges of Neend, Co. Glouc. was the person to whom this grant was made. He was grand • fathw of Thomas Bridges of Colcsborne Parva, Co. Gloue. living 1682. John Bridges, the grantee, had a brotlier Robert Bridges, or Bruges, of Wood- chester, Co. Glouc. who died about 1647, having had issue by Eliz. daujjh- ler of — — Bridges of Cirencester^ Co. Glouc. ( of ivbom pracntly, )
1. Richard Bridges of Cromwell, Co. Glouc. who died about 1658 leaving
by Eleanor daughta- of Laurence of Sherington, Co. Glouo. a da Jghtcr
Eliz. wife i. of Poole, and «dly of Bromwich ; and Richard Bndgjs of Tithering«on, Co. Glouc. who died about 1677 leaving by Anne daughter of Geo. Hanger of Driffield, Co. Glouc. (who died about 1676) Gesrge Bridges set. 2, 1682 ; and Anne, xt. 6, 1682.
2. Humphry Bridges of Woodchester, Co. Glouc. who died about 1660, at. circ. 40, (besides John who died a lunatic unmarried ; and Margaret who man ied Evan Seise, Serjt. at Law.) Humphry Bridges oiVVoudches- ter married Jane daughter of Edward Thurston of Ihornbury, Co. Glouc. and had two sons and four daughters. Edward, 2d son, was !.i:)j,je in 1683, and then act. 24. Eliz. married Stephen Browning of Cole, €■. O'ouc. and Judith married Tho. Webb of Kingswood Co. Wilts : the others A'cre Jane *nd Anne. Robert Bridges eldest son was of Woodchejter, Co. GLuc and aged about 30, in 1682. Visitation of Glouc. K. 5. in Her. Colt. — T'.is fam'ly remained at Woodchcster tiii about 70 years ago v;hei. the male i-.M failed J as may be seen by the epitaphs in th^it church. They b. rt 1. An- chor for their crest j and not the Saracen's Heady like the ChandvS iam.ly.
The
144
Midd. i8i. Draper. Feb. 1613. G. 4 bends O. ort
chief parted per fess A. & Erm. 3 lis G. in
ihe chief.
Suff.
The same arms were used by the wife of Speaker Onslow ; and are now used by Geaeral Bridges of the East India Company's Service.
Cirercester family.
There is a handsome monument in Cirence:ter church for Humfry Brid- ges, who died April 17, 1598 ; and Elizabeth his wife, who died July 6, 1620. He had many children, among whom was a son Anthony of the Middle Temple, who died in 1617, having been baptised at Cirencester in 1593. It has not been, I believe, ascertained whence this family spruhg: but they intermarried wi h, and were probably of the same origin with those •f Woodchester. As they had many Christian, as well as surnames, in common with the Chandos family, and one or two of whom were buried at Cirencester, they furnished materials to the opponents of the Cha:idos claim, with which to puzzle the pedigree, in spite of the better knowledge of some of those, who made use of them. They furnished an Anthony, a Robert> and a John Biidges, all of which standing by themsslves, and separated from other documents, which completely disposed of them, might well raise doubts in those who were not complete masters of the pedigree.
Family ofTihertin, Herefordshire,
For the sake of juxta-position, and while I am on this subject, I wItt briefly and gently correct a strangely erroneous note, which crept into the last edition of Collins's Peerage. " Marshall Biydges of Tyberton in Here- fordshire," living 1683, is there stated on some odd authority to have been son of Charles Bridges, a younger son of the first Lord Chandos. It appears by Gregory King's Visitation of Herefordshire, 1683, that he was grandson of •' William Brydgcs of Up-leaden in the parish of Bosbury, Co. Heref. iirho by Margaret daughter of John Vaughan of Court Field Co. Monm. had five sons ; of whom the four younger were -settled at Prior's Court, Here- ford, Old Colwall, and in Lor.don. William Brydges of Up-leaden, the eldest son, died May 25, x66S, set. 67, having been sometime High Sheriff of Herefordshire. He left issue by Anne daughter and coheir of Edmund Marshall of Essex, and of Blewbery in Herefordshire, three sons, and eight daughters. His eldest son was the above Marshall Brydges of Tyberton, Co. Heref. Esq. who was a Justice of Peace for the said County, and aet. 49, in 16S3. He had several sont-o William, a younger son wa; a Segeant at
Law,
145
SufF. 182. Brond of Erwanston, 10 Mar. 1610. V,
griffin pass, & chief O. Midd. 183. William Hall of Hogsden, April 1613.
B. on chief Erm. a lion pass, guard. O. Lond. 184. John Cary of Lond. Confirm. Feb, 1612.
S. on chevr. O, 3 etoils G. entr. 3 griffins
heads erased O. Stafford. 185. Wightwick of Wightwlck, altered
April 16, 1613. B. on chevron A. 3 crosses
form^ G, entr. 3 pheons O. London. 186. tVestrow, Grocer. 24 Mar. 1613, O.
a chevron B. 3 crescents in chief B. Northam. 187. Knight of Charwelton, May 1613.
A. 3 bends G, on canton B. a spur with leathers O.
Kent. 188. fValfeTf Mny, 1613. B. fess dancie entr.
3 mural crowns O. Essex. 189. ./^r/Awr Gen;?5, Master of the Pipe Office^
Confirm. 1610. S. on fess A. flowers de lis
B. entre 3 lapwings A.
190. George Mountain^ Bishop of London, June 1613. Lozengy Barry O. & B. on chief G. 3 crosslets O. Norfolk. 191. Tho. Outlaw of Wicihngham, June 1 61 3. A, saltier G. entr. 4 wolves heads proper. 19a. Roger Huleck of Wichingham, Confirm, June 161 3. A. on saltier V. 7 escallops A. Norfolk. 193, Randol Cranfield l*f Lionel Crarifield,
Law, and born about i663r— Francis Brydges of Tibferton, Esq, his eldest son was also of the Middle Temple, and born about 1660. From G. King't Fiikation Co. Heref. K. 6. in Her. Coll. For the lower part of the pedigree, stt Stemmata Chicheleana. — This family bore at this time a Wing for a west, and not a Saracen's Head.
VOL. vni. X ji^ar)
146
Earl of Middlesex, brothers. A. on pals B. 3 flowers de Us O. Hertford. 194. JbAw Mi/Zi of Casnalbery near Ware. Nov. 161 3. Barry of 10, A. & V. over all 6 escutcheons G. 3, 2, i. tg^. Samuel Harsnef, Bishop of Chichester, 1613. B. a bars dance ttc Erm. entr. 6 crosslets O.
3> 2, I.
Devon. 196. Esse, or ^sh. Confirm. Dec. 1613. A.
2 chevrons S. on each chevron a trefoil V. GIouc. 197. Smith de Carapden. Confirm. 1614. O.
on fess G. 3 lis Ar. entr. 3 sal tiers S. Devon. 198. Cholwill, Nov. aS, 1613. A. on bend
S. 3 broad arrows O. feathers & heads A. 199. Hare, Feb. 1614. G. 3 bars O. chief in- dented O. Pembr. 200. Cannon. Feb. 1614. G. on bend A. an
ogress entr. a double cotises O. The crest,
a cannon S. mounted on hii tire O. 20r. Sayer,Vth. 1614. G. fess engr. A. entr. 3
birds A. beak & legs S. Bucks. 202. Henry Spiller of Kingsey. S. cross voided
entr. 4 mullets O. Somers. 203. Rolerl Henley, Sheriff of Somerset.
Feb. 26, 1612. B. lion ramp. A. crowned
O. border A. entoir of torteauxes. Hertf. 204. Francis 7a2;<?rnffr de Hexton, Feb. 16 14.
A. bend fusilee S. a torteaux in the sinister
point. Hertf. 205. Gt7e5i2oM^Z'acA,of Litton, son of Tho. son
of Pierce Rowbach of Litton. Confirm.
March 1614. B. bend cheeky O. & G. entr. 3 cotises O. crest on a wing A. bend cheeky
O. &G.
Somers.
U7
Somers. 205* Bourges^ Somers. March 1614. A. fess
lozengy 3 mascles in chief B. border B.
besaritie. 206. Broum. Confirm. Miay 1614. Erm. on fess
counterbattalee S. 3 escallops A. Vomers. 207. Northover de Aller Court, May 1614. 0. 5 lozenges in saltier B, entr. 4 crossletsB. Leic. 2c8. William Roberts de Sutton Cheinal, May
1614. Per pale A. 8c G. lion ramp. S. Leic. 309. IViLUam Gerveis (or Jervis) of Great
Petley. S. chevr. erm. entr. 3 birds or fowls
A.* Wilts. 310. John Shuter of Winterburn Cherburgh,
July 1614. B, an inescutcheon A. entr. 8
crosslets fitchy O. l<ondon; 21 1. Fisher of Lond. July i5i4. 0. 3 demy
lions G. chief indented G. Essex, iia. Anthony Luther of Kz\\edon,l>^oY. 161^^
A. 3 bars S. 3 buckles in chief B. "Lbnd. 213. Sir r//o. Hoy 5, Confirm. 1613. Erminois,
3 lions heads erased S. Northam. 2 14, PVhi. Dale of London and Brigstock,
1613. G. on a mount V. in base a swan A.
collared wilh a horn O. The crest, a stork
proper, gorged with a coronet O. London. 215. Edmd. Bantes, Confirm. 1614. B 2
lions pass. gard. O. tssex. 216. 7"AoTOG5-(4t/amof Walden. 30 Sept. i5i4.
V. on a plain cross O. an etoil S. Crest a
talbot pass. B. sem^ of besants coloured A. Suffolk. 217. Elliot. Nov. 14. A. fess G. entr. a
gemels wavy S.f
* These are the armi now borne by Earl St. Vincent, ■\ This coat is now borne by Lord Fl'ot-
L 2 Kent.
148
Itent. 218. Short. Nov. 1614. B. griffin pass O.
entr. 3 etoils A. Cantab. 219. fVelles of Caius College. Nov. 1614. 0.
on a plain cross S. the sun O. entr. 3 lions
ramp, double quev6 S. Stafford. 220. Hugh Hamersley de London, son of
Hugh, sonof Richd. Co. Staff. Nov. 1614.
G. 3 rams heads couped O. London. 221. Sir John Leman, Alderman B. fess
entr. 3 dolphins A. 222. Justinian Fovey. Nov. 1614. S. on bend.
engr. O. an annulet S. entr. 6 cinquefoils. Cornw. 223. Rd. Roberts* of Truro. 2 Jan. 1614. B.
on chevr. A. 3 mullets pierced S. Kent. 224. Sare, Inner Temple. 11 Feb. 1614. G. z
bars Erm. 3 martlets in chief O. Devon. 225. Atwill, 9 Feb. 1614. A chevron S. over
all a pile counterchanged. Somers. 226. Wm. Young of Trent, Confirm. April
1615. O. 3 roses G. a canton G. Sussex. 227. John Couper of Ditcham. 9 Feb. 1614.
Quarterly A. & G. in 2d & 3d quarter, a
pheon A. Suffolk. 228. Tho. Bright, Bury St. Edmunds, May
10, 1615. S. fess A. entr. 3 escallops O. Kent. 229. Tho. Deal of Feversham. G. 3 bars A. on
a canton A. a eastle S. Sussex. 230. Tho. £aAer of Battle. 1615. A. a castle
between 3 keys B. 231. Mallourn, D.D. & Bishop. Confirm. June
1615. B. 3 escallops A. within a border
engr. A. charged with 1 1 crosslets fitchy (5-
Afterwarda Earts of Radnor— the arms were afterwards altered, because too like Roberts of Kent.
Kent.
149
Kent. 232. CoM^ of Canterbury, 30 June 1615. O. a fess S. entr. 3 horses current S.
Sussex. 233. Henry Pardon of Lewis, M.D. 4 July
1615. G. a bars A. on canton B. a dolphin.
O.
334. JoA/i Alden of the Temple, Sept. 8, 1607. G.
3 crescents Erm. within a border engr. Er.
London, 235. William Tirry, Draper. Confirm. 1615. A. on pile G. a leopard's face swal- lowing a flower de lis O.
Kent. 236. Christopher Sacker de Feversham. Con- firm. 1615. G. a bend engr. O. entr. 2 bulls heads erased O.
237. Roht. Hill, D.D. Nov. 161 5. Per chevr.
battale S. 8c A. 3 cinquefoils counter- changed.
238. Hayes of the Wardrobe, Dec. 1615. S. on
chevr. A, a crescent G. entr. 3 leopard's faces O. Northam. 239. ^a//^ of Blakesley. Feb. 1615. Erm. on chief G. a besant entr. 2 billets O. [To he continued.'] t • ' ■ ■ ■
Art. Vn. The Mahumetarie or Turkish Historye,* f^c. ^c. Translated from the French and Italian tongues by R. Carr, of the Middle Temple, in London, Gentleman. London : Printed by Thom<^ Lste, dwelling in Aldersgate street. i6co. 4^0.
" 1. S. to hii kind friejid R. C. " The well-fed paunch, sound sleepes, and proud attire.
From face of men hath banisht virtue quite j Whereby the course of Nature's free desire Is cleane corrupt by Custome's foule despite. • See Herbert's Typographical Antiquities, Voi» \\. p. 102 1.
I. 3 Sq
So every light is spent which gratious Heaven Assign'd this life our staggering steppes to stay.
That now a worthie wonder it shall seemc. If any one shall glorious actes assay.
The lawrell wltte- reward, the mirtle eloquent, Drown'd in contempt with faire Philosophie,
The gayning people hould for time mispent. And few folkv;s feete the strayter path doe trie :
Yet, gentle friend, let mec of you require," &c.
" C. S. to his louing Cosin and good friend R. C,
" I speake no prayse to thee, my Cosen kinde, (For well of aught I know you seeke no prayse) But joy to see that these our better dayes
Shall be adornd with beauties of thy minde.
0 how I fcard thy modest thoughts inclinde To sit in silence, musing mourning layse. In scorne of fame and all that honour raysc.
Would drown the parts which Heaven to thee assign'd.
1 know thy worth, & so shall many moe,
(Unlesse thyself and many moe thou wrong) And since begoone to sit thyselfe in shoe,
Bring out thy store, in darknesse hid too longj Nor doubt not aught, for if (as earst) I see. That pleasith others which once pleaseth race."
« R. M. to his friend R. C.
" No little glorie gaine they, I confesse,
Who fitlie forreine tongues our language teach j Yet he far more deserves without impeach His owne braines birth, who well dyd e'er express. ^ Then, gentle friend, make you yoursejfe not lesse To post us french and latin in our speach. But broach those quieres of rare conceit and reach. Which I have seen most worthie of the presse.
Those
Those love sick sonets, those nleasin?^ comedies. Which oft with much attetuion I have heard:
That ric'ie discowrse where loue in louing dies. And, of all wittes, those paradjxs pieferd.
O let this age but sonrie of these behold.
And prayse thy pen writ in a veyne of gold."
" The answer to his friend R, M.
" My dearest friend, I willingly confesse That I whose life should lead and teach. And not devoide of blame and foule impeach.
Which O, I would no tongue could ere expresse !
Now, for I have myselfe in worth made lesse. Too stale a fable to the public speach, Is't not enough J but that I further reach
To blaze my follies in a printing-presse ?
No padone, no, both songes and comedies.
And what besides pleasing applause hath heard
Without remorse in their creation, dies : To byrth and buriall rites at once preferrd.
To much of these dyd men in me behold,
O would time past C*. be regaind with gold!"
R. C.
Art. VIII. Extracts from the Paradise of Dainty Devises. 1576.
*' 13. Of the instabilitie of youth,
" When I look back and in myself behold
The wandering ways that youth could not descry:
And mark'd the fearful course that youth did hold. And melt in mind, each step youth strayed awryj
My knees I bow, and from my heart I call,
O Lord, forget these faults and follies all.
L 4 For
For now I see how void youth is of skill, I see also his prime time and bis end :
I do confess my faults and all my ill ; And sorrow sore, for that I did offend:
And with a mind repentant of all crimes
Pardon I ask for youth ten thousand times.
The humble heart hath daqnted the proud mindj Eke wisdom hath given ignorance a fall:
And wit hath taught, that folly could not find. And age hath youth her subject and her thrall.
Therefore I pray, O Lord of life and truth.
Pardon the faults committed in my youth.
Thou that didst grant the wise king his request: Thou that in whale thy prophet didst preserve :
Thou that forgavest the woundings of thy breast. Thou that didst save the thief in state to starve :
Thou only God^ the giver of all grace,
Wipe out of mind the path of youth's vaine race.
Thou that by power to life didst raise the dead: Thou that of grace restorest the blind to sight :
Thou that for love thy life and love outbled : Thou that of favour madest the lame go right:
Thou that canst heal, and help in all assays.
Forgive the guilt, that grew in youth's vaine ways.
And now since I, with faith and doubtless mind. Do fly to thee by prayer to appease thy ire 3
And since that thee I only seek to find. And hope by faith to attain my just desire;
Lord, mind no more youth's error and unskill,
Aad able age to do thy holy will. Finis. LordVaus.
<'30, A
^5S
" 30. A friendly admonition.
'" Ye stately wights, that live in quiet rest.
Through worldly wealth, which God hath given to you^.
Lament with tears and sighs from doleful! breast. The shame and power that vice obtaineth now.
Behold how God doth daily profer grace.
Yet we disdain repentance to embrace.
The suds of sin do suck into the mindj
And cancred vice doth virtue quite expel;
No change to good alas can resting findj Our wicked hearts so stoutly do rebell.
Not one there is that hasleth to amend.
Though God from heaven his daily threats do send.
We are so slow to change our blamefull life. We are so pressed to snatch alluring vice:
Such greedy hearts on every side be rife;
So few that guide their will by counsell wise.
To let our tears lament the wretched case.
And call to God for undeserved grace.
Yon worldly wights, that have your fancies first
On slipper joy of terrene pleasure here 3 Let some remorse in all your decdes be mixt.
Whiles you have time let some redress appear* Of sudden death the hour you shall not know. And look for death although it seemeth slow.
Oh be no judge in other men's offence.
But purge thyself and seek to make thee free.
Let every one apply his diligence,
A change to good within himself to see;
O God direct our feet in such a stay.
From cancred vice to shame the hateful! way. Fiois. R. Hill."
** Being
154
** Being in love lie complaineth,
" If care or skill could conquer vain desire,
• Or reason's reins my strong affection stajrj Then should my sighs to quiet breast retire.
And shun such signs, as secret thoughts bewray. UrKomely love, which now lurks in my breast. Should cease my grief, through wisdom's power opprest.
Bat who can leave to look on Venus face?
Or yieldeth not to Juno's high estate) What wit so wise, as gives not Pallas place.
These virtues rare each goddess did yield amate. Save her alone who yet on earth doth reign. Whose beauty's string no gods can Well distrain.
What worldly wight can hope for heavenly hire. When only sighs must make his secret moan :
A silent suit dost seld to grace aspire. My hapless hap doth roll to restless stone.
Yet Phoebe fair, disdain'd the heavens above.
To joy on earth her poor Endimion's love. _
Rare is reward where none can justly crave. For chance is choice where reason makes no claim :
Yet luck sometimes despairing souls doth savej A happy star made Giges joy attain.
A slavish smith, of rude and rascall race.
Found means in time to gain a goddess' grace.
Then loftie love, thy sicred sails advance.
My sighing seas shall flow with streams of tears:
Amidst disdaine, drive forth my dolefull chance; A valiant mind no deadly danger fears.
Who loves aloft, and sets his hart oa high.
Deserves no pain, though be do pine and die. Finis. M. B." .
*' 19. He
155
" 19. He persuadeth his friend from the fond effects of leve.
" Why art thou bound, and mayst go free ?
Shall reason yield to raging will ? Is thraldom like to liberty ?
Wilt thou exchange thy gppd for ill ? Then shalt thou learn a childish play.
And of each part to taste and prove; The lookers-on shall judge and say,
Lo this is he that lives by love.
Thy vvits with thoughts shall stand at stay.
Thy head shall have but heavy rest: Thy eyes shall watch for wanton prey.
Thy tongue shall shew thy heart's request. Thy ears shall hear a thousand noise,
Thy hand shall put thy pen to pain : And in the end thou shalt disgrace
Thy life so spent, for such small gain.
If love and list might never cope.
Nor youth to run from reason's race; Nor if strong suit might win sure hope,
I would less blame a lover's case. For love is hot, with great desire.
And sweet delight makes youth so fond. That little sparks will prove great fire.
And bring free hearts to endless bond. Finis."
" 7. For IVhit Sunday.
" Come Holy Ghost, eternal God, and ease the wofnllgrief. That through the heaps of heavy sin can nowhere fiud Doe thou, O Lord, redress [relivf : j
The great distress Of sinfuU heaviness.
Cojne
156
Come comfort the afflicted thoughts of my consumed heart: O rid the piercing pricking pains of my tormenting smart.
O Holy Ghost, grant me
That I by thee
From sin may purged be.
Thou art my God, to thee alone I will commend my cause : Not glittering gold nor precious stone Shall make me leave thy laws.
O teache me then the way
Whereby I may
Make thee my only stay.
My lipsi my tongue, my heart, and all. Shall spread thy mighty name : My voice shall never cease to sound The praises of the same.
Yea, every living thing
Shall sweetly sing
To Thee, O heavenly King.
Finis. M. Kindlemarsh."
" 10. Promise is delt.
*' In my accompt, the promise that is vowed Among the good is holden such a debt.
As he is thought, no whit to be allowed. That setteth light his promise to forget.
And for my part, I will not link in love.
With fickle folk, whose fancies oft remove.
My happy gain I do esteem for such,
As few have found in these our daubtfuU days.
To find a friend I think it be as much. As t* win a fort full fraught of noble praise.
Of all the goods that there may be possest,
A faithfull friend I judge to be the best.
O friendly
^37
O friendly league, although too late begun, Yet time shall try our troth, is well employed:
And that we both shall sec, that we have won Such fastened faith, as cannot be destroyed
By envious rage, or slander's bitter blow.
That seeks the good to overthrow. Fiuis. R. Hill."
" Being in love he complaineth,
" What doom is this, I fain would know.
That deemeth by all contraries : What god, or whether height or lowe,
Now would I learn some warrantise: Some say the blinded god above.
Is he that worketh all by love : But he that stirreth strife, the truth to tell,
I always feel, but know not well.
Some say Alecto with her mates.
Are they which breedeth all anoye : Who sits like hags in hellish gates,
And seeks still whom they may destroy. Some say again 'tis destiny; But how it comes, or what it is,
I let it pass, before I miss.
Despite doth always work my woe.
And hap as yet holds hardly still : For fear I set my friendship so.
And think again to reap good will. I do but strive against the wind.
For more I seek, the less I find : And where I seek most for to please.
There find I always my disease.
And thus I love, and do reap still. Nothing but hate for my good will. Finis. L. Vaux.
Art.
158
Art, IX. Examination of early Jewish Coins. [concluded from p. 73.]
to the editor of censuba literasia.
SIRy
So far as we have examined hitherto we have been able to discover no mark whatever, which is able to Appropriate any one of the coins in the Jirst class any more than in the sec&nd to Simon Maccabee rather than to Barcochebas, whether they have the name of Simon upon them or have not; bat on the contrary have found several circumstances to be rather favour- able to the claim of the impostor than the Maccabee chief, althougti indeed none of them so decisively, as in the case of the second class. We have seen also that even if any argument can be drawn from the di- versiiy in the types and the different forms of the same utensils, yet it can be less probably accounted for in the short space of four years reign by Simon after coinage, than in the same space of four years under Barcochebas.
Possibly however it may be still suggested, that such diversity might arise from similar though not exactly the same types, and also even similar legends of Simon &c. having been continued by the saccessors of Simon down to the extinction of that race of high priests. But neither will this remove the difficulty; for Simon was succeeded by his son Johannes Hyrcanus during thirty-one years, and the latter by his son Aristobulus duringone year, who first assumed the title of Amo^,and was succeeded by Alexander Jannccus: so that there were only thirty-two years from the death of Simon
to
^59
to the accession of Alexander. Now under Alexander it appears, that the types were differenty namely an anchor on one side and a kind of wheel on the other with Jonathan high priest; thus there was only a course of thirty-two years in which that diversity of form could arise, and this chiefly under the same high priest Johannes Hyrcanus, even supposing the fact of which we are ignorant, that he continued to impress similar types and legends with Simon, and did not change them during his whole reign as his successor Alexander certainly did.
Now the Jewish historian Ganz quotes from R. Abraham '^quod juxta ejus verba protractum fiiit reg- num Euzibae et filiorum ejus per 21 annos ante inter- necionem apud Either [ap. ann. 880]." Buxlorf adds either copied from G^nz or by both from some rab- binical relation that 4,000,000 of Jews were slain- fSynag. Jud. c. 50.] This is doubtless Jewish ex- aggeration, but even this shews the great extent of that insurrection in Asia, Egypt and Lybia. Buxtc.f adds als6 that Adn m besieged Either 3 ^ years, and this may be what Jcrom and others meant, when they con- fined the whole time of the insurrection to that short space instead of the siege of Either.
There was then stiil greater room fur diversity in the forms of types on coins, struck bjv these Jews in dif- ferent nations during this insurrection than durii.g the abovementioned thiriy-two years in the confined limits of the high priests in Judea: and it must certainly have required a large sum of money to maintain the army of Barcochebas, which was probably sent from different nations, where v/hen the Jews could not ob- tain a sufficiency of the money current there, they were
compelled
i6o
compelled to coin other money out of their owa precious effects to send to Barcochebas. Diversity then again is no proof either way.
If any coins of Johannes Hyrcanus have been pre- served, this will ascertain v*'hether he did in reality preserve the name of Simon and similar types on his own coins or not, just as the successors of Alexander of Greece preserved his head upon their coins after his death. But I have already mentioned that no coins of Johannes are known to me as having been hitherto discovered, unless some of ihose with the name of Simon rather belong to Johannes in reality. Barthe- lemy also in his letter seems to me to confirm, that no coins of Johannes Hyrcanus have ever been discovered; but those who have access to the book of Bayer can still better ascertain this fact. For at present 1 can only observe, that when Barthelemy mentioned some coins with Bxa-iXswg AAg^avofoy on one side and Jona- than high priest on the other, he adds that Bayer doubted whether the name was not rather Johannes, *' for, says Bayer, we have coins absolutely like them in regard to the metal, model and types, with the name of Johannes on them:** but he does not add whether they had also both the same Greek name and legend or not as those of Barthelemy j type will scarcely in- clude name also.
Who then did either Bayer or Barthelemy suppose the Johannes in question to be? They could not sup- pose it to mean Johannes Hyrcanus, because Bar- thelemy couples it with the name of Alexander king in Greek capitals, and the title of king had not been assumed until after the death of Johannes Hyrcanus. It must then have been some later high priest of the
name
i6i
name of Johannes, which has hitherto laid hid under the Greek names of these k'l/igs, and possibly cither Alexander Jannaeus, grandson to Simon, or else a later Alexander, 150 years after Simon: as both of them then are quite silent concerning Johannes Hyrcanus, this seems to imply, though not indeed with absolute certainty, that neither of them knew of any coins of that Johannes surnamed Hyrcanus the son of Simon; and Barrhelemy proceeds moreover to prove by other coins, that he had rightly read the name Jonaikan and not Johannes as Bayer suspected.
If however the coins referred to by Bayer with Jo- hannes on them did nevertheless refer to Johannes Hyrcanus In his own mind, yet this at least follows thence, that in this very next succession to Simon under his son, Jewish sacred utensils were no longer in use on Jewish coins, but an anchor and iv heel : hence again the diversity found on those coins in the forms of the utensils could not have arisen from their beino- the work of different artists in a loner succession of different re. gns; but are more probably to be ac^ counted for bv their being coined by different bodies of Jews in different nations during the insurrection of Barchochebas.
As then this circumstance of diversity makes every way rather in favour of Barcochebas than of Simon, so there is still another circamstance, which makes it still more strongly in favour of the impostor; which is, that the title of high priest has never yet been dis- covered among the other legends on those coins, and this is very extraordinary if any of them were in reality the coins of Simon: for we find him in the book of Maccabees always called high priest as well as Prince
VOL. VIII. M of
l6i
of the Jewi', h was indeed the former which gavehiiii claim to the latter, and it was by the Jews considered as a situation of so much dignity and importance, that one could never expect to find it altogether sunk and forgot by himself under the title of Prince of Israel only on any coins or contracts relative to his own subjects.
In I Maccab. xiii. 42, we read " In the 170th year the people of Israel began to write in iheir instruments and contracts — In the first year of Simon the high priest, the governor and leader of the Jews— again in xiv. 27 — in the lyad year being the third year of Simon the high priest, ^c." — Inxv. i. likewise "Antiochus sent letters to Simon the priest and prince of the Jews, beginning with Antioahus the king to Simon the high priest and prince of his nation, ^c. and repeatedly in other places down to the last verse, where it is said that Johannes was made liigk priest after his father. Now that this title should not be found on coins of Barco- chebas is no wonder, for he never was high priest al- though the Jews had made him prince of Israel; and in the above quotations it is observable also that the years are numbered from the accession of Simon to be high priest, not from his obtaining a grant to coin money, which is not mentioned until some time after- ward in XV. 6. *' I give thee leave also to coin money for thy country with thy own stamp:" so that there is no proof that the date of 4th year on the coins can mean from the time of obtaining the right of coinage; which leaves an important question to be still answered, why no later dates have been discovered, in case these coins were struck by Simon and reckoned from his ac- cession; but with respect to Barcochebas that question
is
163
is easily answered, because he might reign no longer than four years from the time of his being acknow- ledged as prince of Israel.
It does not however appear lo be quite certain, that the dates of ist 2d 3d and 4th years are actually to be found on those coins ascribed to Simon j for though Ottius reads them so, yet Reland docs not: and in fact there are so many other circumstances left in doubt by the writers on this subject as renders any conclusions very uncertain ; such doubts however are no more un- favourable lo Barcochebas than to Simon Maccabee.
But with respect to the title of high-priest being never found inscribed, Barthelemy himself could not help noticing this factj although he afterwards forgets too much its importance in balancing the evidence " on doit I'etre d'avantage surpris de n'y pas voir le litre de grand preire, qui lui atiiroit lant de respect^ et qui suivant les passages, que jc viens de citer [de 1 Maccah.j paroissoit dans tons les actes emanes de lui CSimonJ ." p. 829, dn Journal. To which we may add further, that Barihelemy himself has shewn above that this title is found also on the real coins of the kings Alexander and Antigonus at even 150 years after Simon and in Samaritan letters on the reverses, not- withstanding that the more important title of hing is found on the obverses and in Greek capitals. The fact then that Barcochebas was not high- priest, al- though made prince of Israel, can alone account for the omission of the former when the latter title occurs on those coins, this being the only instance in which these two titles did not belong to the same person, for the Herods never adopted either of them.
It was urged still further against Henrion as^ an ob- M 3 jection
1^4
jection to these being the coins of Barcochebas, that as they are chiefly found in the ruins of Jerusalem, they must then have been deposited there hejore the destruc- tion of that city in the seventieth year of Christ by Titus; but the insurrection under Barcochcbas did not happen it is said until the eighteenth of Adrian, nearly sixty years afterwards. Now in answer to this objection it must be remembered, that a new city was built by Adrian and inhabited by Greeks and other colonies sent there, which has since been all destroyed in its turn as well as the Jewish city: who then can determine at present, even if they were inclined to distinguish between the two ruins, whether the coins are found among the ruins of the old city or the later one of Adrian; probably there is not a single house now standing, which was erected in the reign of Adrian, and that the two ruins are so intermixed as to be no longer distinguishable, without which this ob- jection amounts to nothing. An addition therefore has been made to it, that it does not appear by any ancient author thatBarcochebas was ever in possession of Jerusalem. So far may be true, but no objection follows from it, for it is certainly related that he fixed his residence and army at Either', now although it may not be quite certain where this town was situated in Palestine, yet Eusebius says, that it was not very far distant from Jerusalem Wujv Icpo<roXvy.uiy ov irfoha, iropp'jj Jlecrrwtra] (4. 6.) which is quite enough for our purpose; for the money of a large army will always chiefly find its way to the chief city ; and it is the same thing whether it was dropt by the soldiers them- selves or by those who had received it from them for necessaries. Eusebius confirms that the Romans
slew
i6s
slew i).vpia.Hg of these rebels, which means strictly several multiples of io,oo®, but it is often used indefi- nitely to signify on infinite number : it appears also by him, that Either was a strong position, for he calls it oyrjpwroirri, whereas all the defences of Jerusalem had been levelled with the ground by Titus; which was a sufficient reason for his choosing to fix himself in a stronger place, yet it does not follow hence that he was never in possession of Jerusalem by himself or by some part of his army.
These are the chief objections against the coinage of Barcochcbas, none of which have much force; while there are three facts strongly in his favour: i si that the ancient Jews well knew of his having coined money cither by himself or his friends, to which they gave his name of Cuziha, and of which Basnage may pos- sibly have given some further information: adly, that four of those coins are now proved to have been struck since the accession of Trajan, which are therefore probably four of those very coins called Cuziha by the ancient Jews, and having the name on them apparently of Schemoim, but more certainly the liberation of Je- rusalem ori the reverses: 3dlv, that many others have either the same name Schemoun or else the liberation of Jerusalein, on both legends, which must therefore be reasonably deemed of the same coinage as those Other four, and consequently belong to Barcochebasj this affords a presumption of all the others, although having not those legends, yet that they are of the very same species, if they have as types a representation of any of the same objects relative to the Jews, as what are found on those with the above legends on them. Thus all the coins in question seem to belong to M 3 Earcochcba«j
i66
Barcochebas, but one class of them at least almost certainly so, i. e. the second class.
There are indeed some difficulties concerning these coins, not yet sufficiently cleared up by Reland, Ottius and others; but possibly Bayer may have removed some of them at least; and if not, yet they equally affect either of the two opinions concerning the age of coinage, therefore make no more in favour of one than the other. Such as the difficulty of determining with absolute certainty the powers of the letters, and also what words are to be formed out of them. Hence it is not sufficiently proved, whether the dates of i, 2, 3 and 4 are on any of them together with other such doubts relative to the legends.
But such doubts seldom occur, as tend to prove a coin to belong rather to Simon than to Barcochebas, therefore are of no importance to our present inquiry whether settled one way or another; in some ftw cases however they possibly may affect this inquiry, of which I can at present recollect only one example, where Reland reads liberation from the Greeks, and Ottius with others liberation of Zlon^ the words de- noting Greeks and Zion differing in the Syriac very little from one another. If Greeks be the real word it would afford a good proof of that coin belonging to Simon the Maccabee: but in the present uncertain reading of that legend it can procure nothing. Hence it appears, that wherever such doubts as these occur no proofs either way can be founded upon them and they are totally foreign from the subject: as are also all disagreements between writers concerning what sacred utensils are thought to be represented on the coins, and arising from the defaced condition of these coins,
which
1^7
which different persons may wish to supply in clIITercnt modes; for if they be all really Jewish utensils it is of no moment whether they be cups of thanksgiving or pots of mann.i; and cither way they no more prove any thing in favour of the age of Simon than of Bar- cochebas.
But there are other doubts also subsisting concern- ing some articles, which are of more importance to our inquiry by being relative to the size, weight, value and fabric of the coins; for we have seen, that this has been the o?ili/ evidence, upon which Barthelemy at- tempts to adjudge some of the coins to Simon rather than to Barcochebas; but he has not pointed out any one coin in particular of this kind, which lie thinks to have a similar fahric to those of the Syrian kings in the second century before Christ; which too gene- ral assertion then leaves us still totally in the dark either bow to confirm or how to oppose this pretended proof of antiquity in some of the coins.
All or almost all of those coins which have Simon or liberation of Jerusalem on them are of bronsc, and i^re very different from those shekels mentioned by Pridcaux, which are of silver, and larger, being almost of the size and value of half a crown with Jerusalem the holy on them; but which legend by being equally suitable to every age can prove nothing either way concerning the time of their coinage, and most of these are also now esteemed to be forgeries by Jews of later ages. Reland himself says in his third letter to Ottius, " Gaudeo eatenus inter nos convenire, quod nee hi nee ulU veterum * Hebrseorum ruammi' ante Maccab2eorum tempora sint percussi, quodque sicli i^ti et alii nummi lit'.'ris Hebrasis quadratis insigniti, M 4 qiii
1 68
qui magno numero circum ferentur omnes pro adulte- rinis sint habendi," p. 95. Here isti must refer to the sicli mentioned by Ottius in his own letter, whose words are^" omnes nunimi Samaritani (exceptis siclis argenteis, si modo veri dentur) ad Maccabaeorura tem- pora referri possunt," p. 82.
Now except the four coins in silver superstruck on Trajan's coins, all the rest which are mentioned by the above authors are in bronse, unless it be one of LudolPs, the legend on which is read by these authors so diffe- rently, that it proves nothing ; it is possible however that Bayer may have since produced some others of silver with Simon on them; which if they be of the size of shekels, like that of Ludolf, let us attend to what Ottius likewise says concerning these *' Argentei, qui Siclorum nomine veniunt, dubiam hactcnus apud me fidem invenerunt, ex duodecim, quos oculis mani- busque tractavi, vix unus est, quem originalem indubie agnoscere possim," p. 53. We have no concern then with any but those in bronse, which are of a much smaller kind.
Reland has engraven four or five, and all apparently of the same size^ which coins he declares that he con- siders as genuine, if any are so. But Ottius produces other four, having similar legends and types with those of Reland, and these he describes as being of very dif- ferent weights, and to so great a degree, that some are but half the weight of others; can they then be all of the same size? or could those of Reland be so ? when Otliiis declares that his own resembled those of Reland so much that *' in nummo minore, qui mihi secundus est, ei in Relandina dissertatione tres nummi priores respondent," p. 65. And again " In tertio meo, qui
vestro.
iSg
vestro, ut opinor, quarto respondet, Sec. "p. 75. Or could those of Reland be all of the same weight or value? Notwithstanding that Ottlus declares of his own bronse ones that *' Cum appendissem N°. i, obscrvavi Semi- unciam una cum quarta parte pendere: Alterum N°. 2 non plane quartam unciae: N". 3 minus " — Collige- tnus ergo majorem N". i esse Semigera (Judaica) et 40 talibus asneis ad conficiendum Sidum fuisse opus — et N°. 2, qui iribiis tuis respondet non plus valverit quam as minutus, vel assarim — qua comparalionc facta pro uno licto tales 120 postulentur: N". 3 arbi- tramur esse quadrantem de quo servator dicit, non cxil'is donee reddiderls i<Ty^a.rov ■Kohcc-z'triV." p. 86.
Such then being the different weights and value and consequently different sizes of the four examined by Reland, and the four by Ottius, what marks are there on these, by which Barlhelemy can discover that they are of a ^G^iric more conformable to the Syrian coins in the age of the Maccabees 140 years before Christ, than to that of Barcochebas 1003 years after Christ? Might not the same .Tewish weights long remain alike ?
Similar differences doubtless subsist between all those other bronze coins, which have the types and legends o^ Simon and Uheralion o/" Jerusalem on them, so far as respects the constituent parts of their yo/'/fc; so that it seems not possible to judge of the ao;e of their coinage by their present fabric in their present worn and debased condition, in which it is as difficult to determine exactly what their types are, as what their legends arc; and still more difficult to judge of their age by comparing the fabric of these Jewish coins with Greek ones. We must therefore conclude that
Barthclemy
Barthelemy had no good coins distinct from the ihiri^ class of them, which includes all those of an uncertain age; they being all equally uncertain except the four in his second class, coined indisputably later than the accession of Trajan loo years after Christ
But although their fabric can contain no evidence whatever of their age, yet I have pointed out that there are other articles in their legends and types, which ap- pear to be more favourable to the age and circum- stances of Barcochebas than of Simon the Maccabce; especially since all the others resemble in so many par- ticulars to those four now known with certainty not to he coined before the reign of Trrjaii, and also since written evidence, as quoted by Scaliger, has preserved an account, that Barcochebas both did coin money, and also that it was well known to be his by some an- cient Jews, of which coins however no knowledge now subsists unless these, erroneously ascribed to Simon Maccabee, be the coins in question, called by those ancient Jews, Coziboy after the name of that im- postor.
I may add that the legends are not always expressed by the same Syriac v^'ord signifying liberation, but sometimes by two other Syrian words of nearly the same sense, such as vindication of Zion, redemption of Zion'y now this is another circumstance in favour of the age of Barcochebas; for beside so many diversi^ ties in the types what motive could Simon the Mac- cabee have in the short space of four years to employ also such diflerent words in the legends, and all of them nearly synonimous? But this variety is more easily accounted for, if the coins wore struck by dif- ferent bodies of Jews in ditTercnt cities of the Roman
empire;
171
empire; for every one knows that it is scarcely pos- •; * sible to get different bodies of men to agree exactly in the same things, when it depends altogether on their own will and pleasure, even supposing them to have had perfect knowledge of one another's inclinations and opinions.
As a further confirmation that the sacred Jewish utensils and the bunch of grapes were quite proper symbols of the advent of the Messiah, 1 may quote what Buxiorf relates on this subject, namely, that there were ten signs of that adveut generally current among the Jews; of which the sixth was '^•quod turn Messias regera romsnorum bello persequetur et sacra vasa, qua3 tanquam thesaurus in Imperatoris CElianl [the name of Adrian was CElius] ledibus reservautur, Hie- rosolumam referet." c. 40 Synag. Judaic. — Then also the Messiah was to give a grand feast to all Jews whatever, and that beside provisions of every kind of animals thegenerosissimumel praestantissimum vlnum bibetur, quod in Paradise crevit, ibidemque adhuc in Adami ccllavinaria reservatur." Ibid. This last opinion they founded upon those v/ords of Psalm 75, "^ In the hand of the Lord there is a cup, and the wine is red, and he poureth out of the same;" so that the type of the cup on some coins may refer to the same expectation as the bunch of grapes on others. To the same expectation a,!so may the palm tree be re- ferred, agreeably to the gad P^alm, ** The just one shall flourish as a palm tree."
'I'he above traditionary sign of the advent of the Messiah, by the recover y of the Jewlsk sacred iitensik preserved in the treasure house of the Emperor CElia- nus, seems as if it had been founded at first upon the
expectation
expectation of the Jews in their insurrection under Barcochebas, of their being able to recover those sacred articles at that time under that Emperor of the name of CElius', and points out a weighty reason why such sacred uiensils might be adopted on their coins as types suitable to the occasion. It was likewise to the above grand foast by the Messiah expected by the Jews when he arrived, that Christ referred, by the words quoted before from St. Mark, and of this the marriage-feast in Cana, at which water was made wine, might appear to the Jews as a precursive type and symbol, to shadow out and ascertain to them the fact of theMess'ah being actually come in the person of Christ to hold ihc grand feast expected by them in the above tradition. To the same tradition and ex- pectation of the Jews were those words of the governor of the feast accommodated when he said to the bride- groom thou hast kept ike lest wine until now, agree- ably to the tradition that in the feast of the Messiah the wine would be prastantissimum.
This general extcnsiveness of these traditions among the Jews confirms the propriety of ihe bunch of grapes on the coins of Barcochebas as a si^n of his being; the Messiah; which could not indeed be doubted by any when Rabbi Akiba, who had 24,000 scholars, said to him en ipsum regent Messiam! and also applied to him the prophecy concerning the Messiah in Num- lerSf "a star shall arise out of Jacob and a sceptre out of Israel," for which reason he assumed the name of Bar-cochebas, son of the star, as abovementioned by Scaliger.
To the same purport might tend that type of the coins in question, which so frequently occurs of
Aaron's
^73
Aaron's rod luddlng^ as afFording a representation of the sceptre predicted. All these circumstances seem to unite together in ascertaining these coins to have been all struck during the rebellion under that impos- tor, by all the types as well as legends being so suitable to that occasion, although varied in so many different modes; a fact, which they at least prove much more securely, than the Samaritan letters found employed there can prove the use of Samaritan letlcrs by the Jews above looo years before, as the examiucr of Mr. Hurwitz pretends.
Where we cannot obtain demonstrations, we must be content with probabilities; and we have found Bar- thelemy himself judging it to ht probable, " that all the coins related to the same event, those, which have not the name of Simon, as well as those which have:" if this then be probable in case that event happened under the Maccabees, it must be equally probable, in case the omission of the title of high-priest and seve- ral other circumstances rather preponderate in adjudg- ing that event to be the insurrection under Barcoche- bas. S.
ERRATA.
P. 4i,yj;-firmo r. fimo. 58, rcclal.iei' r, rckorieJ,
59, tin. pen. only ;•. any. 63, be to iwdicaie r. be thi.u^li: to, &c.
Art. X. On a passage in Galatinus Dc ylrcanis Catholiccp Veritatis.
TO THE EDITOR OF CEN3UKA LITERARIA. SIR,
Your correspondent P. M. is informed, that I can- not find the passage, concerning which he makes in- quiry
1/4
«piiry in Raymond Martinis Pugio Fidei; hat fn Ga- latinus de arcanis CalhoUcds verifaiis it occurs in his iook, ist, cap. 3, the title to which is as follows *'De authenticis Judaeorum scriptoribus, qui Christi ante- cesserunt adventum, ex quorum potissimum scriptis compactus est Talmud." In the middle of which chap- ter is the following passage: '' Rabbenu Haccados Hbruna scripsit, quem Gale razeya i. e. revelatorem secretoruiTt nuncupavit, qui certe non ab re Doctor sanctus est, cum spiritu sancto aflatus, ita- plane CO in Hbro cuncta Domini nostri Jesu Christi mys- tcria aperuerit, ut non futura prasdixlsse sed res ges- tas tanquam Evangelista narrasse, videatur- Quem paulp post Rabbi Nehumias Haccanae filius secutus, non ea tantum quae a prophetes de Messia occull(i tradlta fuerant, lympidissime patefecit, verum etiam se ab ejus adventu per quinquagenta tanlum annos pro- cul esse asseruit. Unde Haccanae filio suo, quem Messiam ipsum visum visurum et sperabat et gaudebat, ut eum de Messiae mysteriis certiorem faceret, episto- 1am scripsit, quam Iggeretli hassodoth i. e, epistolam secretorum appellari voluit. Per idem fere tempus (anno ante Christi natalem circiler sccundo et quadra- gesimo) Jonaihas Uslelis filius totum vetus testamen- tum in Chaldaeam vertit linquam." The book is in dialogue between Capnio and Galatinus ; these words are by the latter; Capnio makes a short answer and objection relative to the Chaldee paraphrase of Jona- than, but says nut a syllable on the subject of the pre- diction. However Galatinus resumes it in his subse- quent ch. iv. in the following words. " In actibus apostolicis scribitur, Maxima pars sacerdolvm oltem- per ah at fidei) et horum nonnulli multa de Christo miranda scrlpserunt; quorum opuscula aliqua adhuc
exstant
175
cxstant apud Judaeos, quamvis ea ne admanus nostras perveniant, pro viribus occulere nitantur: et inter cetera sunt ca, quas litcris mandavit Rabbi illc Hac- canas Nehumiae filius, qui cum .omnia Redcmtoris nostri gesta etmiracula prouioculis vidcrat, scripsisset^ sic denique dixit. Ego Haccanas sum turns ex illis, qui credunt in eum, et ablui me aquis Sanctis, in ejusque viis reciis incedo ; to which translation he prefixes the original Hebrew words of Haccanas.
Now the words ad manus nostras and inter catera seem to render it doubtful, that although he quotes the Hebrew words themselves, yet that he had never him- self seen the written opusailum of Haccanas the son, but set them down from the report only of others: and ihe words opuscula aliqua nny be equally thought to imply, that likewise he had never seen the epistle of Nehiimiah, called epistola sccretorum in the preceding chapter; )4f least in neither chapter does he affirm, that he had seen and read either of them. This doubt is strengthened by Capnio in his answers not taking the least notice of such a remarkable prediction and information by the father and son: whereas in hi.s answer to another article there Capnio thus clearly ex- presses himself as having read concerning the Talmud '* Ego vero in Hebraicis reperi UHeris, Talmud a pluribus doctoribus fuisse collectum." Moreover, in ch. 6 and 7 when he quotes any sentence in Hebrew, he expressly adds the chapters and book, in which it is to be found, not only with respect to Hosea, Ezekiel, and Genesis, but also in the book Zoar, and the express title of the chapter Sata in the Talmud, whence he quotes a passage against the purity of Jesus Christ; yet omits all such minute references in the above- mentioned
iy6
mentioned remarkable testimonies in his favour, which indicate again that he wrote these rather from hearsay.
In the same 4th chapter he peremptorily affirms, that the b 'ok of Wisdom was writ by Philo, and the I2th and 13th verses of ch. 2 were meant of Chris in particular, he being there called uio^ hov, the Son of God, an interpretation exploded even in the English translation ; and he adds, " In sequentibus capitibus miilta de martyrum victoria et ecclesiae Christi statn deque uuiversali Judicio proedicit." Here he just as readily makes Philo a prophet as he did Nchumiah in the preceding chapter; and expressly affirms, that the Nicene council received the book tanquam sancti sp'irihts dictamine scriptum; yet afterwards he owns it to be doubtful whether Philo was actually a Christian. T think that the prediction deserves but little credit.
S.
Art. XI. On Vaccbiation.
TO THE FDITOR OF CENSURA LITERARIA,
The subject of vaccination bsing now under conside- ration in Parliament, and it being the opinion there, that it was very expedient to collect together all facts relative to the ccrtaintyof its security against the small- pox, I will mention o\\q fact, which in part came under my own knowledge, but which has never yet been mentioned by any writer on the subject, and which is, that it seems expedient to inquire, whether
if
i;7
if a person be inoculated with the small pox after the cow poek had taken effect, the inoculated arm may not nevertheless be so much affected with the small-pox
• as to communicate it to others, although no fever or eruption affected the rest of the body. A case happened
' to a husbandman last su.mnier, which seems to.render this doubtful. A farmer Jjad a child inoculated ,\yith
• the cow pock a twelvemonth before very successfully, hut the small pox being last summer much in a neigh- bouring village, to which he ofien 5ent his seryauts,
■he got his child inoculated with the SRiall pox, lest bis servants should bring the infection home in their clothes, and for greater security to his child, but did ^
■ not confine the child within doors; a small inflamma- tion took place round the incision, and he went kilo the barn as usual, where a young man was threshhig", who took hold of the inoculated hand, as frequently before; and within ten days after was taken with sn>»ll pox and died. He had been very careful to avoid any of the servants, who went near the inftcicd village and was himself persuaded that he caught it of th-e child. Now the child's arm afterwards grew worse,, and so stiff, that he could scarcely lift it to his mouth; so that they sent for a physician, who thought the in- flammation would go aw»y^ but could find no signs, that the body .iad been any way affected with erup- tions. I saw the arm soon after the j oung man was taken ill, and there were then yellow protuberances all round the place of inci«ion, as if ihev were f.ilvd with the matter of sniall pox pimples when at the hcigl.t before they flatten; in time they dispersed but then looked very angry like whitIov>;s, on finger^ just b.fore
.,,they break. Is it not then possible, that although ihc
VOL. VIII. N cow
•xow pock had prevented fever and eruptions on the ■^'body, yet that the small pox might have a partial and ■ local effect upon the arm and place of incision j suf- ficient to raise contagion enough to communicate the small pox by contact to another person ? If it be pos- sible, this ought to be generally known and guarded against, when a person is inoculated with small pox after cow pock. May we not also hence infer, when a person is susceptible of the small pox afterwards, it arises from the cow pock before having had a similar partial effect on the arm only, like the small pox in the above case, without sufficiently affecting the whole body ? Those then only ought perhaps to think them- selves safe by the cow pock, who find themselves made ill- for a day or two. S.
Art. XU. Old Poetry. .^^^j^ .
[Fronj a MS. terap, Eliz.J
Vpon the Receaving the Quene made to the Erie of Leycester.
** I sawe ihe strayning hande rcceavc the welcoomde gf ast.
Whose tremhiing blood, in frintlly face, his inward joy expiest j ' * '*
Yea sure the shainefast smiles, that mantle redd did shrowde, >-i
Made sundry thinke ther sate, by happ, a goddesje in a clowde } , ,ft
And therewithall me thought the ytlding lookes caJ speake.
As thoughe fond flames of fixed faiih shuld out of furnas breake.
To showe the hidden heat, that hart did harbour still,
For lack of calmy quiet thoughts and want of wished will; •'^^
The people stoode and markte what ende wold comm of this, .
And commen bruite * said, theoe good signes, will breed a further blisse \
Bat envy though^ not to, his bristles vpp he raste,
Ai doth the angry chased bpare, when hunters blow the b!ast«
• Commoo zef ri.
Tha^
179
That makes the begles bite. Oh, blessed lordl q. I, Though foes do frowne and thinke a chainge may turn the clowde In ikjr, Yet God i» where he was, and frends shall never faill To pray and wishe the tossed shipp may safely hoise vpp sail!. Let malice worke his worst, like monster muse he shall With skowling browes and wrinkled cheeke, and ha|)ly miste the ball. When true deserte shall thine, amonge the Godds aboove. And labour, longe as reason is, shall leupe the fruite of Love. Churchy arde."
[" Unentitled stanzas on friendship from the same. Anon.']
" The thoughts of men do daily chaunge.
As fansie breeds within their brest j And nowe their natures arc so straunge
That fewe cann finde where frendshipp rcstj For dooble dealing beares suche swaie. That honest meaning doth decaic.
The stedfast fayth with frends profcs^.
Is fledd from men or litle vsed j Who hath a perfect frend possest,
By whom he never was abused ? "Where one is founde a frend in deed, A score there be that failc at need.
A frende in worde where deeds be dead.
Is like a springe tiiat water wantes; And those, that with fair words are fedd.
Doe hope for fruite on withered plantcsj For who cann iudge by view of eye Where deeds be dead or trueth doih lye. i
The surest way that I cann iinde.
Is first to trie and then to trust} Wherein affeccion is not blinde.
For proofs will soone trie out the iustj And triall knowes who mean^s deceipt, And bidds the blinde beware the baite.
N 2 For
.: "■ ^ .1.. .\ -■..,<: .. .Ur^:, ■-
•For barren trees will blossomes bearc.
As faire as they that fruite doo yeldc j WbiJse barke, and brainches, seemcs as faire
As any trees witliin the iieldej As simpfie lookes the suttle man. As he that of no falshood catin.
Without good proof be not to bolde.
If thow my councell list to take; "in painted wordes there is no holde;
They be but leaves that winde doth shake j But where that wordes and deedes agree, Accept that frinde and creditc me. Finis."
Conduit street. J, H.
Art. XIIT. The Ruviiriator. Containing a series of moralj sentimental, and critical Essays,
K°. XXXVIL
Story of an eccentric Character.
TO THE RUMINATOR.
As you love to ruminate on the energies and va- rieties of the human character, you will not perhaps dislike the account of a very extraordinary one, that came within my observation a few years ago, of which I shall be glad if this communication draws forth any further intelligence.
In the skirts of one of our few remaining ancient forests, near which however were several venerable mansions still inhabited by respectable fatrtilies, Stands
in
i8i
in a recluse (Single a soHtiry cottage, whioh^yet ex- hibit* marks of neatness and elegance superior to its rank. I never pass this cottage without many mingled emotions of anxiety and respect. I think ten years have elapsed this very spring, since I was in the habit$ of meeting almost daily in its environs a young map, of most interesting but neglected appearance, whose air. had every appearance oi education and high birthn He seomed reserved, and. desirous to avoid notice; but my curiosity was awakened, and. I traced him, without teing seen, to this cottage, where I soon learned that h.e had taken irp his abode.
I gradually insinuated myself into his acquaintance; and in some degree vi'on his confidence, though there were many parts of his story, which I never could penetrate. The name he assumed was Longford ; but that undoubtealy was not his real name. His counte- nance was uncommonly handsome, except that it was somewhat severe and
" Sicklied o'er with the p9le cast of thought." His eyes, though generally gloomy, reflected at times every variation of the soul. He was dark, tall, TOAiscular, but rather thin; and, if his mien was too oft«n languid, it occasionally displayed vigour and ac- tivity.
For what purpose he had sought this retreat, and . wijepee b<* had immediately come, I never could en- tijtjly satisfy myself. He discovered at times the strongest marks of pride and ambition of any man with >ybQm I have ever conversed. Indeed the fragments of mysterious story, which I gradually extracted from him, would, if tru?, aecount for th^se strong traits of jcharjcter.
J« 3 He
l82
He appeared to be labouring under some vehement disappointment; and struggling with terrific difficul- ties. His melancholy, though interesting, was gene- rally painful J and seemed to depress his faculties. I have met him day after day, when he scarce spoke. Then all at once the vein of eloquence would seem to flow upon him ; and he would pour forth the treasures of a mind full of sentiment and imagery with such a felicity of expression and sweetness of voice as seemed to be little short of inspiration.
It was on one of these occasions that by good luck a friend was with me, whose prejudices had hitherto re- sisted all belief in my account of this wonderful young man. He was absolutely overpowered with astonish- ment; but, before we parted, invited him to his house with such a mixture of awe and kindness in his man- ner, as won its way at once to Longford's proud but grateful heart, and induced him to embrace an offer of hospitality, which in common cases he would sullenly have rejected.
At the table of this friend I iirst saw him in mixed society. He did not then equal the expectations which had been formed of him : he was silent, shy, nervous, and almost awkward : in answering questions he was confused and deficient in language; and my friend al- most relapsed into his former scepticism. Even his eyes lost their fire; and he looked mortified and unlike himself. Towards the close of the evening however he recovered a little; and one or two flashes restored him to my friend's good opinion.
We knew not how he employed himself in his cot- tage; it was probable that he read; but there were no signs of any great number of books about him. Some- where
where he had certainly had an opportunity of readings for his memory was most richly stored, particularly with history. If he had not much opportunity of reading, he certainly wrote a great deal j and I suspect was oc- cupied in digesting some mighty plan of which his head seemed full. The common people called him " the crazy man ;" and after a little while took very slight notice of his peculiarities. A villager and his wife lived under the same roof; and these appeared to be his only attendants. He was indifferent to show artd luxury, and so engrossed hy the internal operations of the mind, that all trivial outward circumstances were utterly unheeded by him.
But yet he v^as not inatfentjve to objects of beauty and sublimity. I nevei* Saw an eye which glowed with more fire and admiration at the scenery of Nature. His heart and fancy seemed as tremulous as the strings o( the ^olian harpj and to vibrate with responsive harmony. His tongue indeed often died away in mur- murs, but his countenance spoke the intenseness of his pleasure. It was generally of a solemn tone, but it now and then relaxed into a heavenly smile. He has leaned against an old tree or thrown himself on the grass for an hour together with such a radiation of face as I have no language to describe.
Though his powers seemed better adapted to a spe- culative than an active life, there was reason to believe that he had been engaged in enterprises which required not a little practical exertion. He sometimes let drop expressions which implied that he had been a soldier m services of adventure and hazard. The minutiae of the profession he despised; but he talked with fire of its greater movements; and seemed to have some pro- ject of this kind frequently floating in his head. When N 4 he
m tallced of Ica'ding armies, and regaifimg ktrigob'rtig, ^e dark flashes of his countenance were almost fnght-
nil.
There happened to be present at one of the visits W my friend's house, a neighbour who loved to tell won- ders; and who soon raised the c\iriosiiy of several of tl^e fimilies within his reach. By degrees most of their tables became open to Longford j but it was ex- tremely difficult to induce him to accept invitations; and no one could ever rely on his attendance. There were people, whom no one could prevail on hlrti to meet, aiKl from whom, if he accidentally encountered tbem in a room, he instantly retired. As long as it was the fashion to have him o? a parly, all this was en- dured^ He still continued, next to myself, most at- tached to my friend, who had an amiable family of daughters, in whose presence his frequent returns of cloudiness and depression seemed in some degree to
^^!^^y- .... li^-^vi
Yet it was seldom that he spoke to them; nor Avould a common observer have perceived that they h?A any effect on his manners. or his thoughts, ^,Ij who had watched him incessantly, knew better th^ changes of his looks, aud the tones of his. vokq.- I have seen occasionally, what animation thsir company ^ave to his conversation, even in argumerj^^s and on subjects which- appeared entirely addressed to their iather; and when they left the room, he has become ianguid; hijs attention lost, and.his manner copfused. , '• He had not been long known in our neighbourhood before many stories were circulated to his prejudice. He was called an adventurer; an impostor; a low fel- low; a beggar; a madman, &c. Some of these things jeached his ears; the words "low fellow," raised his
indignation
indignation most. " I suppose/* said he, " I am called low fellow by some East- Indian cut-throat, or some mongrel nobleman, whose pedigree has been i^vv&d together from shreds of parchment by a little tailor, turned herald ; who however would have got a more honest, if not a more productive livelihood by never quitting his board 1 I scorn to tell what I am, in opposition to such despicable insults as tbese !" Some- times however I expected that these provocations would have drawn out his real history; but they never extorted more than broken and imperfect hints. Yet I gathered that he considered himself of Blood-Royal ; and that there was something very romantic in the history of his descent.
There were moments when his temper had the ap- pearance of great harshness, and even ferocity : his re- sentments were strong ; and his indignation was too itiuch alive. But, after long and studious investi- gation, I was convinced that the excessive tenderness of his feelings was his main defect; and the source of fe'bullitions of temper which had the very contrary hue. Had he exercised a more constant and severe control over himself, he might have been happier: he might hkve been better ; but all the striking traits of his i:^^r!tctfer W6trld have been deadened.
.It was almost a misfortune, that he could not at all coa;lesce with common minds. Animal spirits, and the liveliness of ordinary conversation overcame him so as to dose his mouth, and even damp his faculties. Jn ordinary society indeed he seemed so far from being superior, that h* rather appeared like a cypher. Smart inen, jesters, and bucks of infinite humour, askesd, ,<':What duU 'foolish ^fellow -is thit?" When they
withdrew.
i86
withdrew, he seemed to rise as from an oppressive weight; his powers expanded, and he often poured forth the golden torrents of his impetuous mind.
Then it was that I observed the eyes of the gentle
Ellen M , my friend's second daughter, first
fixed with an inexpressible kind of attention on Long- ford. She said nothing; she did not mterrupt him by a remark, or a word; but I perceived she was in- tensely drinking poison to her future peace. I was alarmed; but knew not what to do. Had I had more firmness, I should instantly have communicated my observation to her father.
I endeavoured to withdraw Longford as much as possible from the house; but he had now contracted
a fondness for the society of Mr. M , who was
equally fond of him ; and I had not resolution to break this mutual enjoyment. I had formed a warm friend- ship for him; and as 1 feared the solitude of his own Cottage was too much calculated to foster his alarming melancholy, I could not bring my heart to shut him out from a hospitality, which seemed to give him such keen pleasure.
The autumn was now at its most delightful point. The forest displayed all that variety of tints from pale green to the brightest gold, which renders this the most picturesque of all the seasons. There is some- thing in the softened gleams of the sun; and the com ■ piencing decay of vegetation peculiarly suited to a pen- live turn of disposition. It added to the disease of Ellen's heart; and it was dangerous to the violent sen- gibility of Longford. I saw that he was now,more thoughtful than usual, and loved to wander alone in the woods more than ever. He talked less; and his ' sentiments
18;
sentiments betrayed less fire and energy. He sighed more; and his spirit of adventure seemed softened.
But it is become necessary to close this letter, and continue my story in another.
N". XXXVIII. The same Story continued.
TO THE RUMINATOR.
SIX,
I am not sure that Longford was a poet ; but I strongly suspect that he was. He often communicated to me small poetical pieces, which, though he would not own them, I have little doubt were written by himself. They were more remarkable for a certain natural wildness of sentiment and fancy than for cor- rectness. The introduction of those moral touches, which, springing from the fulness of a simple and un- sophisticated heart raise instantaneous sympathy, gave moat of them very attractive charms.
Though Longford was at this time more than com- monly affected by tenderness and anxiety, I do not think he was equally unhappy as I had seen him. His melancholy was softer and more composed. The books he borrowed of me were of a different cast, and he was , more contented with his cottage, and his bumble station. " I have seen the four parts of the world,'* said he, " and been in the most lively and bustling scenes; but I am most content with my present hum- blestation!" "Are you, indeed," I answered, "satis- fied with this obscure seclusion?" ** It is the whi|D,7
i88
he replied, *' of a mind tired of show and restless ac- tion ; and that prefers solitary quiet to anxious am- bttioD and greatness 1"
I am a single man ; and live in a moderate sized retreat with all the conveniences of a competent for- tune. My lodge stands on a most romantic knoll of the forest; encircled by a mixture of deep foliage, and opening glades. A little lawn spreads before my windows ; and through one of the vistas dimly peeps a branch of the blue sea. As the rapid decline of the year brought longer evenings, and more uncertain days, I had the happiness of Longford's company more frequently by mv fire-side, and found him more con- tinual occupation in my library. I had a tolerable collection of black-letter books; and more particularly a copy of Lord Berners's Froissart. This was his fa- vourite volume, over which he hung day after dajj^ completely absorbed, and forgetful of all around him. His next favourite was Philip De Commines. All ihe minuiiji of the court of the Planiagenets from the time of Edward III. to their extinction in Richard IIT. he seemed to study with enthusiastic attention.
At other times he would sit for hours at the win- dow contemplating with apparent earnestness the goWen views around him ; or watching the wild deer at a distance, who grazed calmly within his sight, or darted in picturesque forms through the trees. But the coming on of twilight appeared to be his favourite hour: as evening drew its shades over the forest- ieenery, the landscape inspired him with a rapturous kind of melancholy, such as I have never seen exhibited by any other human being. At the close of one of thme^ts of abstraction, I heard a deep sigh, and saw - ♦ a tear
189
a tear streatning down his cheek. ** Had I tJever/* said he, " been deluded by the false fire of ambition; had I never admitted those grovelling desires of worldly distinction, I might have been happy; my ^mind might have been pure enough to foster these raptures without reproach or alloy! Alas! it is far otherwise now. I have been hurried into pursuits ■ ■ ■ ■** Here he paused, as if he recollected himself, and after two or three efforts dropped the conversation My curiosity was inflamed ! but delicacy restrained me from urging him further.
I will confess that, as his story was obscurC;, these
accidental hints did not leave me at enlire ease. But
there was something altogether so ingenuous in his
manner, and so pure in his sentiments, that I could not
"finally withhold my confidence from him. Yet there
were moments when it was impossible to prevent the
ihtrusion of an idea, that T might perhaps be ch6rish-
'ihg a ttian stained with some great crime, who had
'fled from justice, and whose conscience sometimes
goaded him into these involuntary exclamations. Then
^' said to myself, " he is afraid of nobody; and his
opinions are too upright and bold, and his counte>
"nance too full of sensibility and virtue for such base
suspicions;" and I loved him the more for the injury
I had done him. '" .
But whatever uneasiness occasionally arose from the
remarks I made at my own house, I found cause for
'much more at many little occurrences at the house of
"my friend M ■ — . My friend was fatally blind to
^the thousand nameless looks and tones of voice be-
'tween Longford and his daughter. It is true they
nevfef app^Sr^d lo'engage in regulaf conVeTsatronj nor
were
190
♦wer?,,tbeir addresses to each other as direct or as fre- quent «ven as to the rest of the company. This very circumstance, which set the caution of my friend asleep, rendered the matter in my judgment more serious.
Ellen M was then eighteen, with a beautiful
person, and most intelligent and thoughtful counte- nance. She had always been remarkable for a grave turn, and great softness of disposition. Her love for reading had been quietly cultivated, and was much more ardent than any of her family were aware of. She was silent almost to a fault; and her diffidence entirely concealed the delightful powers of her mind. I had often suspected ihat beneath those pensive looks, and that unbroken reserve, there were treasures of no .ordinary kind, I drew these inferences from the won- ^derful varieties of expression in her facej from the fixed attention with which I observed her listen to rational and interesting conversation, and from certain silent and unassuming acts of sweetness to those whom she, had an opportunity of obliging. But two of her more talkative sisters, who were yet good girls, had hitherto run away with all the credit from her.
Her cheeks had yet been adorned with a most beau- tiful colour; I observed that she now grew pale, and still more thoughtful than usual. Her voice, which had always been plaintive, became even tremulously low; and the tears were often rising in her eyes. She Jiad often a book in her hand; but I saw that her thoughts were generally wandering, and that she was inattentive to the page before her. Whenever I came , to the house, I had not been long arrived before Ellen entered the room; but if Longford was not with me,
she
291
she soon retired; and I saw evident disappointment in her looks.
I discovered equal impatience in Longford when she was absent, and many little contrivances in the direc- tion of his walks, of which perhaps he almost dis- guised the source from himself, did not escape my notice. I do not think they ever met each other by themselves; for Ellen was too delicate and fearful; she did not appear to have even hinted her attachment to Longford : but
She " let concealment, like a worm i'the bud. Prey on her damask cheek,"
A little incident however took place soon afterwards, which seemed to give a more explicit turn to this af- fair. One evening, towards the end of October, when
we had both dined at M 's, something or other
called us all out of the room except Ellen and Long- ford. By some singular luck they were left together nearly half an hour. When I returned, I found her in tears; and she instantly quitted us, and ran up stairs. I endeavoured to rally Longford a little; but found him gloomy and irritable.
Cards were called for in the evening; and Ellen, who was now at the tea-table, seemed to have recovered her composure. She excused herself however from cards, and placed herself at a little table in the corner of the room. After some time I observed her deeply engaged in a book, over which she hung as if anxious to conceal its title. My curiosity v^^as awakened; and making some pretence to speak to her, 1 discovered it to be Walpole's Historic Doubts, 1 believe she did not know that I had seen it; but it was a book I was
fO
Ip2
'•90 well ae<^iamted wit^, that the fra^mfht of a, page betrayed it to me. I frequently saw her afterwards
*%ilh tliis book, and could not have a doubt that her curiosilv regarding it rose out of her conversation with Longford.
Ellen now for the first time began to open to me the stores of her rich mind. I found her astonishingly
; well read in the English history, as well as in books
■of taste and fancy j but more particularly inquisitive about that period, to which the H'latOr'ic Doubts relate. The quarrels of the Houses of York and Lancaster, with their various pretensions and conneciions, she was accurately skilled in; and talked with an indignation
^.totally unlike her gentle temper against Henry the Seventh: — she loaded him with the names of Usurper, and even murderer; but would not go as far as Wal- pole in exculpation of Richard the Third. ''
•^ Longford meanwhile seemed to sink almost uni- •formly into a tender melancholy; and his spirits to be softened into a sort of languor very inconsistent with
°the natural energy of his mind. His pride was not lessened; but it took a new turn; it made him rather waste his time in unavailing regrets at his fallen for- tune, than in indignant resolutions to counteract it, and restore himself to his due place in society. He sometimes even wept, and seemed melted into femi- nine tenderness.
He never owned his attachment to me, but it was now so obvious that he could no longer flatter him-
'.self that I was Ignorant of it. I endeavoured to dis- cover the nature of his fortune, and expectations; but on this subject, to me at least, he preserved impene- trable secrecy. I found that at one time he had
fought
i:
^93
•^ught in the Austrian army; and was well acquainted with the military tactics of that nation; and that he seemed to have a familiar local knowledge both of North and South America, particularly the form,er. Indeed I still suspect that the former was the place of his nativity. I think, if he had himself been born in England, as there is every reason to believe his ances- tors were of high birth in this country, I should by some means have discovered it. I once saw in his hands the outside of a MS. history of his family, which I give him full credit for being genuine; and which he assured me, if the time ever arrived for its being laid open, would astonish both me, and the world. — Some particulars, of which he gave hints, I *hall have occasion to tell, before I close this story.
N° XXXIX. The same Story continued,
TO THK RUMINATOR.
SIR*
When we see a man whose talents are fitted to adorn and enlighten society, pining in solitude, ob- scurity and grief, we cannot, if we are capable of teeling or reflecilon, but be touched with poignant re- gret.
I saw during the following winter the brilliant faculties of Longford clouded with a hopeless affec- tion, which, if it sometimes gave a grace? to his melan- choly, rendered him altogether languid, Indolent, and almost useless. Day after day he hung immovcably VOL. VIII. o over
194
over my fire immersed in thought which was only in- terrupted by his sighs.
When a girl is in love, and especially if she have fancy and sentiment, any thing romantic in the history of her lover, adds food to her flame. The mysteries regarding Longford seemed to heighten Ellen's attach- ment : and when these were added to qualities in them- selves very striking and attractive, the excess of her passion can be more easily conceived than described.
Mr. M at length took the alarm; but the affair
had now gone too far to be violently broken off. It became the painful task of a parent to inquire more minutely into the circumstances of a man who aspired to his daughter. That man was his friend; his delight as a companion; his admiration as a genius. But these were qualities which did not necessarily secure his consent to him as the husband of his child.
Longford could not bear to be questioned, or even suspected as to his story. On this subject he was so proud and indignant th^t it did not, seem to bend even to his attachment. It often drew tears from Ellen ; and he was infected with her grief, and shed tears in return. But his spirit soon rose again, and he scorned to have his tale extorted from him. '' If," said he, *' you can suspect me of imposition, or that I am un- worthy of you, painful as it is to withdraw myself from your house, let me go! Scruples and hesitations insult me, and are unmanly in you ! You may guess that the fortune of myself, and my immediate ancestors, has been under some cloud ; but there is no one whom our alliance would disgrace/' At this his eyes flashed fi^e; and he muttered in half-suppressed sentences
allusions
-^95
allusions to the blood in his veins, and the cruel fate which had oljscured his rights.
** My ancestors," said he, " disdaining to use their real name without being admitted to the distinctions attached to it, have long concealed their lustre under that of Longford, by which you at present know me. But I am not without hope that the time may yet ar- rive, when 1 may win my way nearer to the station that belongs to me!" Here he burst into tears; and there was something so ingenuous and so much be- yond the power of disguise in his manner, as rendered
it impossible for M to doubt him, however
strange his reserve might appear.
Of the following hasty lines I received the copy from one of Ellen's sisters. They of course speak for them- selves as the production of Longford.
" So7ig. 1.
" When cross the Atlantic's roaring wave
I pass from Ellen far away. How shall this beating bosom brave
The memory ot" a softer day^ As in these lovely shade.;) I sigh. And watch the tear of Ellen's eye ?
2.
My sterner heart could once delight
In scenes of danger and of stormj And in my country's cause; to fight
Could all my proudest wishes warm; But now no charm can joy supply. Save the sweet smile of Ellen's eye.
o 2 3. As
19^
3,
As fades dear Albion's chalky shore Before my sorrow-clouded view.
What magic spell can e'er restore Hours that with dove-wing'd motion flew?
Breezes, that into music die.
Can ne'er with Ellen's whispers vie,
4.
By Sesquehana's distant stream.
Or wild Ohio's waters lone. How sad to waken from the dream
Of tender pleasures that are flown. Then 'twill unman my soul to spy Thro' fancy's beams fair Ellen's eye.
5. In absence be the lovely maid
True to her Edmund's plighted vow. And in the forest's peaceful shade
On him a daily thought bestow. Till on his distant obsequy Fall the blest tear from Ellen's eye !
6.
Alas ! and shall on shores remote This sad yet kindling breast expire,
"With none, to pour the funeral note. Of those that rais'd its former firej
In savage lands his bones must lie.
Far from his long-lov'd Ellen's eye !"
I am sorry, Mr. Ruminator, after having gone thus far, to be necessitated to defer to another month the
conclusion
^97
conclusion of my story; but the truth is that I have been most unexpectedly interrupted.
I remain, Sir,
Your constant Reader,
H. SK F.
June 22, 1808.
-' ' ■ " — «■
Art. XIV. Extracts from Mrs. Carter's Letters, just published.
I embrace with eagerness the opportunity of giving some detached extracts, containing the opinions of Mrs. Carter on celebrated cotemporary authors and their works. The judgments of this most excellent woman appear to have been at once original, candid, and sound. They are expressed in language perspicu- ous, strong, and elegant; and are the result of a mind acting on the most mature deliberation, and enlightened by the nicest powers of distinction.
Miss Talbot's thoughts were more quick; and I think it cannot be denied that her feelings were more acute; indeed morbidly acute, had they not been con- trolled by her angelic goodness of principle and of heart. The contrast adds strikingly to the interest of the correspondence. A mind more clear, more exten- sive, and better regulated than Mrs. Carter's does not occur in the annals of genius and learning. And I feel confident that every one who has any sense of re- ligion, or a gleam of taste or fancy, will agree with me that the amiable Editor could not have answered it to his conscience to have withheld from the public letters so eminently calculated to mend the heart and o 3 exalt
198
exalt the understanding. The scruples he once felt must have long since subsided; and left, in their stead, a conviction that by giving them lO the world he is greatly aiding the cause of virtue and piety, and increasing the fame of the admirable lelative, for whom his affection and his pride are so deeply interested.
I have on the present occasion selected nothing but what relates to the characters of books and authors. The pass^es of sentiment and description are still more beautiful, and equally just. But I have to regret that ill health, low spirits, and an excess of private business have consumed so much of my time in this month, as to render me utterly incapable of doing justice on the present occasion either to Mrs. Carter, or to the public. But it is said that complaint only ex- poses one to the contempt of the hard-hearted ; and I have nothing to do therefore but to *' steer right on- ward," in defiance of obloquy and injustice. I have, as my enemies have experienced, a dauntless spirit j and the good time perhaps will yet come !
June 23, 180S.
Pope and Warhurion.
" Our present after supper author is Mr. Pope, iu Mr. Warburton's edition. Is it because one's strongest partialities, when in any point deceived, turn to the strongest prejudice of dislike, that I read those ad- mirable poems and letters with a considerable mixture of pain and indignation ? At some uncharitable mo- ments one can scarce help looking upon all those elo- quent expressions of benevolence and affection as too
much
199
much parade, while one sees them overbalance! bv such bitterness and cutting severity. I wish J iv ew the true history of Patty.* I'ill I do I cannot read the letters of friendship to her father with any satis- faction. I am afraid you will be angry with nie for all this, but while every reading makes me more ad- mire his genius, every one makes me more doubt his heart. One thing I am extremely ofTended at in his poems, and of which I never took so much notice be- fore, his frequent quotations of scripture phrases in much too ludicrous a way. The notes are worth any body's running over; some very wild, some very inge- nious, some full of amusing anecdotes, some bitterly but not wittily satirical, but merely rough, unjust, and angry, and the greatest number, true commentator like, explaining what needs no explanation, and wire-drawing for meanings that the author never thought of." t
Tom Jones and Clarissa,
FROM A LETTER TO MISS TALBOT.
" I am sorrry to find you so outrageous about poor Tom Jones; he is no doubt an iinperfect, but not a detestable character, with all that honesty, goodnature, and generosity of temper. Though nobody can admire Clarissa more than I doj yet with all our partiality, I
• <* Mrs. Martha Blount, to whom PQi)e left great part of his fortune. A more just piece of criticism, botli upoa the author an J his commentator, has not often occurred, or beea conveyed in fewer words." P-.mungtoi:. t Vol. 1.1.2 77-
o 4 am
:?oo. '
am afraid, it must be confessed, that Fielding's book is the most natural representation of what passes in the world, and of the bizarreries, which arise from the mixture of good and bad, which makes up the composition of most folks. Richardson has no doubt a very good hand at painting excellence, but there is^ strange awkwardness and extravagance in his vicious characters. To be sure, poor man, he had read in a book, or heard some one say, there was such a thing in the world as wickedness, but being totally ignorant in what manner the said wickedness operates upon the human heart, and what checks and restraints it meets with to prevent its ever being perfectly uniform and consistent in any one character, he has drawn such a monster, as I hope never existed in mortal s'^ape; for to the honour of human nature, and the gracious author ©f it be it spoken, Clarissa is an infinitely more imi- table character, than Lovelace or the Harlowes.'**
Yoiing's Night Thoughts.
FROM MISS TALBOT.
1744.
*^ Dr. Young has now, I suppose, done with his Night Thoughts : he has given us one for every night in the week. I do not know whether you critics and fine folkrwill allow them to be poems ; but this I am certain of, that they are excellent in their kind, though they may be of a kind peculiar to themselves. He shews us the muse in her ancient dignity, when she
* Vol. I. p. 207.
inhabited
501
inhabited temples and spoke an immortal language, * long before sing-song came into being." f
From Mrs. Carter in reply.
*' I think I am next to proceed npon Dr. Young, who well deserves the beautiful encomiums you give him: I really regret there are no more than seven nights in a week, instead of exclaiming, as I heard a lady when she was told of a fifth, ' What will that man never have done complaining?'
" But as greatly as I admire this book, and as trifling as most of the criticisms op it appear, I cannot help making one objection : that the author has given too gloomy a picture of life, and too bad a character of mankind ; who, upon the whole, I am much inclined to believe, are a much better set of beings than some moralists, from a partial view, think proper to repre- sent them. Indeed this melancholy turn of thought runs through all Dr. Young's writings, but in no where so much as in what he calls his True Estimate of Life, one of the most sombre pieces surely that ever a splenetic imagination drew." |
•■ " With respect to Dr. Young's poetry, Mrs. Carter, as will be seen, agreed with Miss Talbot; but the editor has heard Mrs. Carter sav, that she was much disappointed in hh conversation. It appeared to her light, trifling, and full of puns. The last part of this character might have been expected. The quaint fxpreisions, and tendency to Wit, even in Its most serious and affecting compositions, would naturally lead to p:ayir!g upun words in cheerful and easy discourse." Pennlr.gion.
-j- Vol. i. p. 45. X ^^''J- ?• 49-
Lord
202 Lord Lyttelton's Monody.
FROM MISS TALBOT. 1747.
** Have you seen the Monody ? To see it, and ad- mire it, will, I imagine, be, with you, the same thing; if sentiment the most affectionate, images the most natural, expressions elegant and poetical, and all the soft varied harmony of numbers, have charms enough to make you overlook some inequalities. I never saw any thing that seemed to flow more from the heart —though whether the heart would be apt to print and publish I cannot determine ; people's ways of thinking are so very different, that in those sorts of things there is no judging of others by oneself. For myself, wherever I feel the most^ I am incapable of saying any thing." *
Montfaucon,
FROM MISS TALBOT. ''
1751.
" I am sick of all human greatness and activity, and so would you be if you had been turning over with me five great folios of Montfaucon's French Antiqui- ties, where warriors, tyrants, queens and favourites have passed before my eyes in a quick succession, of whose pomp, power, and bustle, nothing now remains but quiet gothic monuments, vile prints, and the re- cords of still viler actions. Here and there shines out
• Vol. I. p. 156. ''
a cha-
503
a character remarkably good or great ; but in general I have been forced to take refuge from the absolute de- testation of human nature "that was coming upon me, in the hope that the unillustrious in every a^e, the knitters, the triflers, the domestic folks, had quietly kept all that goodness and happiness among thcnibelves of which history preserves so few traces."*
Horace Walpole, late Earl of Orford.
" I fancy you were not greatly edified by the 'itudy of Mr. Walpole's book. There is always some degree of entertainment in what he writes; but less I think in this than usual; and it is rather more peevish and flippant.f It is' great pity, that he should ever write any thing but Castles of Otranto, in which species of composition he is so remarkably hap|)y. He would, I think, succeed much better as an l;istorlan, if he could feel as strong an interest in living excellence as in the characters of his own creation : and this would make him represent a Sydney or a Falkland, as beau- tifully as he has done a Theodore and Hippolyla. Would it be loo refined or uncharitable to attempt to solve this inconsistency, by the supposi.ion that ideal perfection may seem to leave an entire libertv to people not disposed to regard it; while rea'.iy-exisiing virtue's are such awakening and ])alnful calls to imituiion, as strongly incline some minds too lively not to feel their force, atid too little inclined to yield to it, to make use
* Vol. i. p.-2S6. ■f Probably ths Royal and Nobla Authors.
of
504
of every art to stifle and obscure them ? You will
think me out of humour with Mr. W , and so I
am. His going out of his way to indulge a sneering contempt of subjects, which, whatever may be his own unhappy opinion of them, he knows to be held sacred by the greater part of his readers, is (to say no , worse of it) such violation of decency, as gives very just cause of offence." *
Lord CliesterJieW s Letters. 3 774.
*' Lord Chesterfield's Letters are, I think, the most complete system of French morality that ever disgraced the English language. A system founded neither on principles of virtue, nor sentiments of heart, but upon those selfish motives, which aim at nothing higher than mere bienseance, and which never yet through the general course of life, procured to any character confidence or esteem or love. It is in vain that Lord Chesterfield would disguise the intrinsic imperfections and deformities of the composition which his instruc- tions would produce, by so strongly recommending the graces. The world is always quick-sighted enough to distinguish between the mere rouge and enamel of artificial good breeding, and those genuine graces which naturally spring from principles and dispositions, of which unhappily his Lordship seems to have been totally ignorant. All this may I think be fairly said on many of the most specious and plausible parts of the collection : others are more openly detestable. That
« Vol. II. p. 164.
a father '
505
a father should seriously, and earnestly counsel a son to endeavour to make his fortune, by betraying the families into which he is admitted, destroying do- mestic connections, and violating the mpst sacred rights of society, is a degree of profligacy which it is to be hoped, even in this bad world, is not to be found."*
BryanVs Mythology,
1774. *' I do not recollect any late productions in the Hte- rary way, except a liitle volume of very pretty essays by Miss Aikin, and Mr. Bryant's Analysis of Ancient Mythology, of which I have read one volume in quarto. It is a work of immense learning, and very great inge- nuity, but has to me the fault of almost all the mytho- logical systems I ever read, the want of sufficient proof. When one is professedly invited into the regions of fiction, the further one travels the better. Imagina- tion has a natural right to take the lead, and reason very quietly falls asleep, and never interferes in the progress. But whenever an address is made to the un- derstanding, and fancies and conjectures take the place of proofs, I know few kinds of reading so unprofitable and teazing, hov.ever ingenious tiie writer may be. Mr. Bryant is a man of excellent character and ac- knowledged abilities, and the tendency of his studies to the highest degree respectable : all this I have 9. pleasure in mentioning; and perhaps the fault is in myself that i do not feel more convinced of the truth
Vol. II, p. 274.
of
Zo6
of his system. I am told the second volume is much more satisfactory than the first. I find it is a fashion- able book, from which one would infer that this is an age of most profound literature; and from the very nature of his subject it is scarcely possible to discover what he means but by the assistance of Greek and Hebrew."*
Voltaire.
"1 am not surprised at any blunder in Voltaire's arguments. Wit is a squint of the Understanding, which is mighty apt to set things in a wrong place. I have not seen any of his writings, nor from the cha- racter of them do I ever design it. I should as soon think of playing with a toad or a viper, as of reading such blasphemy and impiety, as I am told are con- tained in some of his works." f
Hume and Rousseau. 17QQ.
" Have you heard of a strange quarrel between David Hume and J. J. Rousseau ? Poor Rousseau to be sure was undone by the unmolested repose, to which he has been doomed in England ; X and it was very
fit'
♦ Vol. II. p. 272. ■{■ Ibid. p. 272.
% Mrs. Carter sewns to have form«d a very just idea of Rosseau's cha- racter, though she always refused to read his, Voltaire's, or any other works of a similar tendency ; which might, she said, do her hurt, and could do her no good. Perhaps it might be well, if other persons whose faith and practice were not established upon so firm a foundation as hers, had formed a similar resolution. Rousseau incieed has done much more harm to so- ciety
507
fit he should relieve himself by making some bustle, as nobody was charitable enough to disturb him. Hume Is extremely angry, and wants to print the cor- respondence, but is advised to forbear. When they were together, he humoured Rousseau like a peevish child, to which certainly he had no right, unless he could have pleaded the understanding of a child in ex- cuse for its humours. Natural infirmities of temper are to be treated with tenderness and compassion; but when people work up perverseness into a philosophical system, and contrive to make themselves as trouble- some as they possibly can, they forfeit all claim to in- dulf^ence, and every encouragement to their unrea- sonable humours is an injury to society."*
Sterne.
1768,
*' I thought the tone of one paragraph In your letter did not seem your own, even before you gave an inti- mation that it belonged to the Sentimental-Traveller, whom I neither have read, nor probably ever shall ; for Indeed there is something shocking in whatever I have heard either of the author, or of his writings. It is the fashion, I find, to extol him for his benevolence,
ciety than either Hume or Vclt.iire have done. They attacked Chrisrianity, which, even without the very able defenders it has had, can defend it. elf ; but Rousseau endeavoured to destroy the bouniiaiy between good and evil, vice and virtue ; and by allowing the freest scope to the passions, without the imputation of any guilt to the indulgence of the nn, he has confounded the right and wrong of moral actions, and done incalculable mischief," Pennington.
* Vol. II. p. 146.
a word
a word so wretche<lly misappTietf, and so often put as a substitute for virtue, that one is quite sick of hearing it repealed either by those who have no ideas at all, or by those who have none but such as confound all dif- fertnces of right and wrong. Merely to be struck by a sudden impulse of compassion at the view of an ob- ject of distress, is no more benevolence than it is a fit of the gout, and indeed has a nearer relation to the last than to the first. Real benevolence would never Suffer a husband and a father to neglect and injure those whom the ties of nature, the order of providence, and the general sense of mankind have entitled to his first regards. Yet this unhappy man by his careless- ness and extravagance has left a wife and child to starve, * or to subsist on the precarious bounty of others. Nor would real benevolence lead a clergyman to ramble about the world after objects with whom he has no particular connection, when he might exercise the noblest duties of a benevolent heart in a regular discharge of his proper function, instead of neglecting and disgracing it by indecent and buffoon writings.^ "
* '< Sterns had died in' the beginning of this year 1768. Ir were to be wi.-hetl that these observations cf Mrs. Carter were bound up with every edition of hi» works as a proper antidote to their poison. Few writers have done 60 much mischief to the v/f.r!d t for by setting up feeling in opposition to princip'e, and casual benevolence as an txcusc for the neglect or the breach of posit've duty* he has done more towards confounding the limits of right and- wrong,- than peih.ips any other author except Rousseau. Hiff de- scriptions of the power and ths effects of benevolence are beautiful ; but a more ancient writer has described it at least as well. Sa St. Paul's first Epist. to the Corinthians, chap, xlii." Pennington,
. t Vol. II. p. 1 66.
Vicar
509
Picar of Wakefield, ly Goldsmith, 1766.
" Be so good to tell Mrs. Handcock that I do like the Vicar of fVakefield ', and likewise that I do not: by which means in any case I hope I am secure of being of her opinion. Indeed it has admirable things in it, though mixt with provokiag absurdities ; * at which one should not be provoked if the book in ge- neral had not great merit. A sm'all alteration in the author's plan might have furnished I think a very useful lesson. The character of Burchcll as it now stands is entirely out of nature, whether we suppose him to be guided by good principles or bad. If the author had strongly marked him as acting by no prin- ciples at all, every instance of his behaviour would have been natural : for every contradiction and every absurdity is natural to a humourist; and the satirizing a character of all others perhaps the most destructive to the peace of human society, would have been a very instructive performance." f
Sunft.
1766. " I have never read Swift's last published letters ; but am glad to find that they help to justify me in always having had a more favourable idea of his cha- racter than most people seemed to think he deserved.
* " Is not that also the exact character of its author ?" Pennirgton, f Vol. II. p. 14.3.
VOL. VIII. P There
3lo
There always appeared a rectitude and sincerity in hiiti, much superior to the greater number of his cotem- porary geniuses. His wit, I cannot help thinking, was mere distemper, and for many instances of shocking impropriety and levity into which it hurried him he was perhaps as little accountable as for the delirium of a fever. Lord Corke I think somewhere speaks of his deplorable ideotcy as a judgment : surely it would have been more charitable to have considered it as the last stage of a long madness, which very frequently terminates in this conclusion." *
Art. XV. Literary Intelligence.
The Rev. Mr. Dibdin has just completed an English variorum edition of Sir Thomas More's Utopia, in two crown 8vo. volumes, elegantly printed by Bulmer, with a variety of fac simile wood cuts. The text is taken from the first English translation of Robinson, in 1551 ; a work of such scarcity, as to have escaped the attention of all lexicographers and black-letter edi- tors. The text is preceded by a biographical and literary introduction, comprehending, first, the family of Sir Thomas More ; second, the lives of him that have been separately published ; third, an account of his English works with specimens of the same ; fourth, a catalogue raisonne of the engraved portraits of Sir Thomas More; fifth, a catalogue raisonne of the edi- tions of the Utopia in Latin, Italian, French, English.
• Vol. II. p. j8.
Art,
Art. XVI. A Character of Charles Yorkey Lord High Chancellor, by way of epitaph.
" Sacred to the memory
of the Rt. Hon''i= Charles Yorkc,
late Lord High Chancellor
of Great Britain.
Formed to deserve
He was qualified to adorn
The highest departments
in law and equity.
His studies and industry
Fitted him for the former j
His probity and discernment
for the latterj
And the largeness of his capacity, for both }
Meanwhile the goodness of his heart.
The sublimity of his principles.
And the dignity of his conduct.
Heightened his pretensions.
And widen'd the great, the uncommon worth,
From whence he sprung.
As a man.
His every feeling did honour to humanity.
As a gentleman,
The liberality of his sentiments.
The politeness of his address.
And the chastity of his manners.
Added charms to conversation;
At the same time that cheerfulness and ease
(The authorized attendants
Of unaffected virtue)
Engaged the attention, and enlivened the affections
Of every unprejudiced beholder..
As a scholar.
His reading was extensive,
p 2 His
His knowledge various.
And his judgment exact ; ;
While intense application
Joined to the most sprightly exertion^.
And truest elegance of taste.
Shewed him at once,
A rare instance
Of superior genius.
And unwearied assiduity.
Such was He, Who after having shone.
Unrivalled at the Bar,
Was in ambiguous times.
Called up to share
The highest honours of the State,
And grace the exalted seat
In which, erewhile, his noble sire sat.
But oh !
How deep the sigh !
Here Heaven clos'd the temporary scene;
And snatch'd her favourite to celestial honours;
The 20th day of Jan. 1770,
In the 48th year of his age."*
Art. XVII. Report of Sales of Boohs for March and 'April 1808.
N°. III.
Persian and Arabic Manuscripts, the property of Jonathan Scott, LL.D. Private Secretary to Warren Hastings, Esq. and late Oriental Professor of the East India College at Hert- ford, by Messrs. Leigh and Sothebyj March 5 j lots 136, vols. 16Q.
• Gent. Mag. Vol. XL. p. 60.
Library
«i3
Library of a Nobleman deceased (the late Marquis Townshend) by Messrs. King and Locheej five days, March 7-11 ; lots 1287, vols. 2840.
Library of Sir James Winter Lake, Bart. F.A.S. &c. by Mr. Stewart) fifteen days, March 7-23; lots 3123, vols. ^600.
Library of Daniel Mumford, Esq, of Greville-street, Hat-' ton Garden, Member of the New Musical Fund, by Messrs. Leigh and Sothebyi four days, March 14-17) lots 856, vols. 1280.
Miscellaneous collection by Messrs. King and Lochecj three days, March 31-April 2; lots 802, vols. 1540,
Miscellaneous collection by Mr. King, Jun. ; three days, March 31-April 2; lots 6l5, vols. 1440.
Bijoux Italien et Francois. Portion of the singularly ele- gant library late the property of a very distinguished ama- teur, (Robert Heathcote, Esq.) and a few duplicates belong- ing to the present possessor (John Dent, Esq. M.P.) by Messrs. Leigh and Sotheby ; six days, April 4-9 j lots 602, yols. 1540.
Library of the late Ficv. 1 homas Taylor, LL.D. Archdea- con of Chichester, Rector of Wotton and Abinger in Surrey, Prebendary of Leek ford, one of bis Majesty's Chaplains, and Gresham Professor of Civil Laws, with a portion of another Library, by Messrs. Leigh and Sotheby; four days, April 12-l6j lots 891, vols. 1820.
Rare old medical books printed in the fifteenth and early in the sixteenth centuries, by Messrs. Leigh and Sotheby j two days, April 25, 6; lots 449, vols. 510.
Library of the late Lord Raymond, Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench, by Messrs. King and Lochee; two ^ays, April 29, 30 ; lots' 409, vols. 1020.
r 3 la
514
■ In the above enumerated sales only 18^756 volumes have been disposed of. The Persian and Arabic Manuscripts contained several articles translated into the English lan- guage. They were outri vailed as curious or valuable by a Greek manuscript sold by Messrs. King and Lochee, on April 28. It was the property of R. Cripps, Esq. a gentle- man whose pursuits, in a continental tour, obtained a con- siderable number of vases and fragments from Magna Grae- cia, of singular curiosity, with specimens of minerals from Egypt, Germany, &c. and an extensive collection of plants, the whole forming an assemblage for antiquity, rareness, and value, seldom to be equalled by the possession of an individual. The manuscript was in the highest preservation, and the performance of no ordinary scribe. In the following article is preserved a minute description of the contents of the volume from the pen of Dr. Raine, of the Charter- House. It was purchased by Mr. Nicol, of Pall Mall> at 355 guineas.
Conduit street. J. H.
The Codex Crippsianus.
The Codex Crippsianus is a MS. fairly writtervv^on vel- lum (quarto size) and seems to be of the twelfth or, at the latest, of the thirteenth century. It contains nearly the same Orations which are printed in the second part of the second volume of the works of the Greek Orators by Aldus, Venetiis, mdxiii. but it is very different in its readings from the MS. which Aldus printed from; and is, in all respects, of a very superior order. The contents are as follows :—
Four Orations of Andocides, viz.
\. ifspi -toov [Lvotripicuv
2. ITS pi rijf eavrs KaSo^a
3. ifEfi rrii TTpo; Aaxe Ja<jU,oy)8; eipyiyr/S
4. xai Hstra a'AKi^iaSs.
Eleven
«i5
Heven Orations of Isaeus, viz. 1. Tfefj KXeujvv^a KXrjpn
3. Tfspi ra irvpps xX-jjps
4. Tfepi 7'a vijtotrrpara y-Xr^pa
5. Ttpo^ 'Kiwya.piv xaj iJioyevijv
7. TTEpi ra aTfoXXoSwps KXr^pa
8. *gpj rj< Ktpwvog y.Xrjpa Q Ttspi ra aatvfiXa ycXr^pa
10. iT/JOf ^svaiysTov ttspi ra aoiC'tap'^ii xXripa
1 1 . Trepj ra ayvia xA^pa sic semper MS.
Upon the argument of the first pf these Orations^ as found page 1 of the 7th volume of Reiske's edition of the Greek Orators, Dr. Taylor has the following remark :— Pherenicus, Simon, quinam? Credibile est rov vitoQifr^v (the author of the argument) in integram Orationem incidisse, quam nos ijon nisi dimidiam habemus. vide versus fincm. The Codex Crippsianus verifies this remark : for after the word /3e?aio- Tspav, page 13, 1. 4, ed. Reiske, there are two asterisks, de- noting a lacuna, and this jacuna is supplied by no less than four pages of the MS, making more than one half of the Oration, which is complete, aqd the names of Pherenicus and Simon occur as stated in the argument.
The next Oration, itspi |W,ey£xAeaf xAijpa, is not in any edition of Isseus. It was printed by Mr. Tyrwhitt in the year 1785 from a transcript made of it from a MS. in the Medicean library j but the Codex Crippsianus furnishes some important various readings. The Peroratio of this Oration stands in the editions of Aldus and Stephens as the conclusion of the foregoing, to which it docs not belong; nor is so acknowledged by the Codex Cripps.j in which it it found in its proper place.
p 4 Three
2l6
Three Orations of Dinarchus.
1 , Kara hiii^ocrhvsg
2. Hoctx acKrfoyeiTOvos
The first of these Orations I have collated, and can certify its containing a great number of important various readings, as well as supplying a lacuna.
Fifteen Orations of Antipho.
1. ^app-axfija xara -rtj; jXT^rpuaj. sic MS.
2, Tictrrjyofia. fovs aiiapaTYjii/is. S.difoXoyia hs to avto.
4. syiKOCfriyopias o vffrspog
5. £^ atfoXoyixs o varspog sic.
6. KXT^jyopio, foys axatris y. UTtoXoyia si; to ocvTO, 8. ExxaT^yofiaf o uoYsfOf. Q. E^ tXTtoXoyiag o vatspog.
10. TiccTrjyo^ia fov8 ts Xstjt,ovTOs ayvvoccrQai. sic MS.
1 1 . aifoXoyia <pov8 ov cvg a[j:,vvoa,£vos efovevcrev.
12. SKKai'yjyo^ms o varrepos.
13. £^ aifoXoyias 0 v<rrepos.
14. vitsp Ta ripuj^a (pova;
15. ttspi T8 ^opsvta.
One Oration of Lycurgus : the only one known to be extant.
xara XewKparas.
I have collated this Oration, and can speak strongly to, the importance of the various readings which the MS. fur- nishes, as well as to its supplying whole passages not founcj in any known edition.
Two Orations of Gorgias.
1. BXsrtjg syKwiiiOv
2. vtep ta.Xxii.^^as aitoXoyia.
The
The former of these Orations is found in the first volume of Aldus's Greek Orators, after the Orations of Isocrates, and one attributed by the title to Alcidamas, and in the next page to Gorgias.
The latter Oration is published by Aldus in the latter portion of his second volume^ and follows Lycurgus.
One Oration of Alcidamas.
oJucoey; xara tt 7raAajx-)j(Js; irpoha-lag^
Printed in the former part of Aldas's second volume, p. 177, and bv Stephens, p. 184.
Three Oraticns of Lesbonax.
1. ttoXifixoi If £91 ra TToAeas tujv KOpty^icvv
2. itpntpsttti-Kog rs avra
3. sri re avrs irspi rujv o.ut'wv.
Published as above in Aldus, where however the 2 and 3 piake one Oration under the title irporoBttrMo;.
One Oration of Herodes,
Found also at the conclusion of the latter part of Aldus's jpecond volume.
siG-i rcov Tfocvrujv 01 \oyoi
That is, the whole number of Orations of the different Orators is forty-one.
Such are the contents of this precious volume, precious I say, because I believe it stands alone as to its contents as a MS. in this country. What may be still lurking in the libraries of Italy, or to be found among the literary spolia- tions of Paris, it is not possible to say : but it is worthy of remark, that the Medicean MS. written on paper, seems of inferior note compared with this. A Dutch scholar of the name of Janus Otto Sluiter has lately published (i. e. 1804)
at
3r8
at I/Ryden, an octavo volume, entitled Lectiones Awdo- ciDEffij interspersed with conjectural emendations from the papers of Vaikenaer, and readings gathered from a MS. col- lation on the margin of a copy of Aldus. These readings are mostly corroborated by the Codex Crippsianus, as well as the greater part of the conjectures of the great Valkenaer.
M. R.
Art. XVIII. Bihlio graphical Catalogue.
Art. 1. La tres elegante delicieuse Melliflue et tres plai- sante hystoire du tres nolle victorieux W excellentissime Roy Perceforest Roy de la grant Bretaigne fundateur du franc palais et du Temple du Souverain dieu. Avecque les mer' veillemes enterprinsisfaitz a adve'tures du ires bel/iqueuh Ga- differroy Descosse. Lesqueh Le'pereur Alexandre le grant couronna Roys soulz son oleissance. En laquelle hhtoire le lecteur pourra veoir la sovree (sf decoration de loute Cheva- lerie, culture de vraye Noblesse, prouesses isf coquestes in- Jinies accTplies dcs le te'ps de Jullius Cesar. Avecqs plusieurs propheties Comptes Damas a leurs diverses fortunes.
Nouvellement Imprime a Paris Mil. v. ce's xxxi. (1531.) Egidius Gormontius.
[Black-letter, six volumes, bound in three, fol. engraved title-page, partly in red ink.]
This scarce and carious romance begins with a Pr4)logue, by way of dedication, " Aux tres excellentz, bclliqueulx, invictissimes & insuperables Heroes Fra^coys. Salut, hon- neur, prouesse victoire & triumphe j" in which the work is asserted to be a translation. In the beginning of the work itself, after the general description of the Britannic Isles, the following account is given of the finding of this valuable history. At the marriage of Edward II. of England with
Isabel
Isabel of France in 1286,* William Count of Haynault ac- companied the bride to England, and in his travels there, came to the abbey of Burtimer, so called from King Burti- mericus, upon the banks of the Humber. Here the Abbot gave him these chronicles, which he had found, written in Greek, in a vaulted space in the middle of the wall of an old adjoining tower, with a royal crown upon them. A Greek student who had come to England to learn philoso- phy had then translated them into Latin ; and the Count employed a French Monk to translate them into French. And certainly they were well worth all this trouble, if it were only to correct divers historical and chronological er- rors, by which the world was then and appears still to be misled. They begin with the foundation of Troy, which they affirm to have been in the third age of the world, and that it was taken while Abdou was judge over Israel. The travels of Brutus and his wars in Great Britain and Aqui- taine follow, which took place while Saul reigned in Judea and Aristeus in Lacedemon. His grandson Rududribas, father of the celebrated Bladud, founded the ancient city of Canterbury, which occurred during the time in which Hag- gai, Amos, and Joel, prophesied. These curious circum- stances are succeeded by the story of I.ear (son to Bladud) and his three daughters, which was in the time of Isaiah and Hosea, at which period also the city of Rome was founded. Four hundred and twenty-five years, as these authentic chronicles relate, after this great event, Alexander the Great was born J and after this monarch had subdued Persia and the East,' he returned towards Babylon which had refused to submit to his arms^ However, before he arrived there, he embarked with his suite on board a powerful ship to sail to the city of Glodofarj f but being driven from his route by a violent tempest, he* arrived in tlic island of Great Britain,
• This may serve to correct a chronological error in all our histories w!iich place this event in 1 308.
-|- By some unaccountable neglect or omission the name of this famous city is neither to be foand in t' e b:St maps, nor in Brookci's Gazetter.
It
/y*
220
It happened that at this time there was a want of a king both in England and Scotland, and Alexander^, who was a •well known king-maker, was able to supply them both, Bethis and GadifFer, two knights brothers, whom he had brought with him from the east, were joyfully received by these two countries as their sovereigns ; and Bethis, to whose share England fell, was afterwards better known by the name of Perceforest, after he had slain a famous necro- mancer, and pierced through his enchanted ybrw^
It is needless probably to give any further account of this voluminous romance, which few person* v/ill now have the patience to peruse. It is filled with adventures of magic and chivalry, strangely blended with history. Before the death of Perceforest there is an account of the murder of Julius Caesar, and a long narrative of our Saviour's arraign- ment and crucifixion, together with the contents of Pilate's letters to Claudius Caesar concerning that event. It ought not to be omitted, however, that Perceforest died a good Christian.
Art. 2. Histoire de Lovys XI. Roy de France et des choses memoralles advenues de son regne, depuis Van \460jusfjues a^ 1483. Autrement dicte la Chronique Scandaleuse. \Escrite par un Greffier de r Hostel de Fille de Paris. Imprimee sur le vray original, M. DC. XX. Small 4to. 338 pages.
These scarce and singular annals of the reign of Louis XF. the worst as well as the wisest of all the kings of France, were written by Jean de Troyes, Secretary of the Hotel de Ville (i. e. Town-clerk) of Paris, andiirst printed in black- letter towards the end of the fifteenth century. They are also added to some editions of the Memoirs of Philip de Coraines. Brantome speaks of it as a sharp and severe his- tory ; in which, says his last editor, he only follows the vulgar prejudice. It is not indeed easy to say why it is termed a Scandalous Chronicle, for it is merely a harsh and
dry
am
dry narrative of facts chronologically arranged, neither in- terspersed with reflections, nor enlivened by anecdotes. It contains, however, many curious circumstances related with great simplicity, and every internal mark of truth. Asa specimen I subjoin part of the description of the king's triumphal entry into Paris after his coronation in August l46l. *' Et un peu avant dedens ladicte ville estoient a la fontainc du Ponceau hommes et femmes sauvaiges, qui se combatoient & faisoient plusieurs contenances: et si y avoit encore trois belles fiUes faisans personnaiges de Seraines (Sirens) toutes nues, et leur veoit on le beau tetin droit se* pare, rond & dur, qui etcit chose bien plaisant, & disoient de petits motets & bergerettes."
P.M.
Art. XIX, Supplement to former Lists of Lite- rary Deaths, with hrief Biographical Notices. [continued from p. hi.]
Feb, 10. Wm Shenstone, Esq. the Poet.
April 22. Dr. Hillary, well known for his many inge- nious treatises on physic.
May 3. The celebrated Psalmanazar, aged 84.
May 19. Dr. Theophilus Lobb, aet, 85, well known for his many treatises on fevers, and other diseases.
July 14. Mrs. Martha Blount, Pope's friend.
July 19. Nath. Hooke,' Vv'ell known in the literary world,
Nov. 7. Sir Michael Forster, Kt. Judge of the King's Bench.
Nov. 25. Dr. Bolton, Dean of Carlisle, and of St. Mary's, Reading.
1764.
Mar. 6. Aged 73, Philip Yorke, Earl of Hardwicke, late Lord High Chancellor, which office he resigned in 1/56.
Mar.
Mar. 15. Mr. Daniel England, a well known mathema- tician.
Mar. 27. Joseph Grove, Es^. author of the Life of Cardi- nal Wolsey, &c. - .
April 22. Rev. Dr. Cobden, Rector of Acton, Middlesex, &c.
June 3. Mr- Schorer, a great Antiquarian, near Bishops- gate-street.
July 8. "William Pulteney, Earl of Bath.
Sept. 25. Robt. Dodsley, Poet.
Nov. 5. Charles Churchill, Poet.
Dec. i5. Robt. Loyd, Poet.
1765- Jan. 21. Lord Willonghby of Parham, President of the Society of Antiquarians, and F.R.S.
Mar.4. Rev.Dr. Stukeley, F.A.S. aged 77. April 5. Rev. Dr. Edward Young, Poet. April 21. David Mallet, Poet. Sept. 25. Dr. Richard Pocock, Bishop of Meath.
1765.
Jan. 7. Rev. Dr. Birch, F.R.S. Biographer. Jan. 21. Rev. Dr. Leland, in Ireland. May 7. Dr. Squire, Bishop of St. David's. Nov. 29. Rev. Dr. Zachary Grey, aged 7g.
1768.
Feb. 2. Rev. and learned Dr. Smith, Master of Trihit/ College, Cambridge.
Feb. 4. Dr. Martin at Streatham, a learned Botanist.
Feb. 6. Thomas Brereton, Esq. author of several tracts.
Feb. 6. Dr. Mitchell, who made the new Map of America.
Feb. 6. Rev. Laurence Sterne, author of Tristam Shandy, &c.
Feb.
553
Feb. 6. Richard Mounteney, Esq. one of the Barons of the Exchequer in Ireland, an eminent Greek scholar.
Feb. 6. Mrs. Sarah Fielding, sister to the author of Tom. Jones.
May , Bonnel Thornton, Esq.
May . Rev. Dr. Delany, aged 83.
June 8. Andrew Millar, an eminent Bookseller.
July 7. Rev. Dr. Atwell, Prebendary of Gloucester, emi- nent for learning and piety.
July 18. The learned Dr. Nathaniel Lardner, author of The Credilility of Gospel History, &c.
Aug. 3. Dr. Thomas Seeker, Archbishop of Canterbury,
Aug, 10. Dr. John Huxhara of Plymouth, whose medical works are well known.
Aug. 11. Peter Collinson, Esq. F.A.S. aet. 75.
Aug. 20. Kev. Mr. Spence, author of Po/yme/w.
Oct. 2. Rev. Dr. Ferdiuando Warner.
Dec. 22. Dr. Charles Lyttclton, Bishop of Carlisle.
\To he continued.']
Art. XX. Literary Obituary.
1808. May 28, died, at Hartlebury Castle, aged 88, the Right Rev. Pvichard Hurd, D.D. Lord Bishop of Worcester, He was educated under the care of the Rev. Wm. Bud- worth, M.A. and Master of the Grammar-school in Brc- wood, of whom he makes grateful mention in the dedi- ,cation of his Horace to Sir E. Littleton. He was Fellow of Emanuel College, Cambridge, and became Rector of Thur- caston, in Leicestershire. He succeeded Bishop Warburton, as Preacher of Lincoln's Inn, for which otlice, however, h« would not solicit. He declined the offer of the Mastership of the Temple. By his merit, and the recommendation of the Earl of Mansfield, l.e became Bishop of Litchfield. The
King
King putting his hands one day upon his Dialogues, said, ** These made a Hurd a Bishop, and I never saw him till he came to kiss hands." As the noble Earl was generally known to have recommended the late Archbishop of York, as Preceptor to the Prince of Wales, so it is evident, that when Lord Holdernesse and he resigned, Dr. Hurd was re- commended from the same quarter. The good opinion of Bishop Warburton contributed not a little to that of Lord Mansfield. In the year 1781, Dr. Hurd was translitied frona Lichfield to Worcester, and declined the Primacy offered a year or a two after. His Horace, his Dialogues, and three volumes of Sermons, with a Life of Bishop Warburton, are the principal works he left behind him, for as to the Delicacy of Friendship, it has been dragged into notice witliout hia consent, and in all probability contrary to his wishes. His merit as a writer has been variously estimated, and literary men have gone into opposite extremes. It must be ac-. knowledged that his veneration for the author of the Di- vine Legation seduced him into excessive panegyric, both of the work itself and the author, and caused him to depre- ciate the merits and labours of all who had the fortune to differ in their opinions. With much ingenuity in criticism, there will be discovered some unnecessary refinement, and, in this instance, the character of the two prelates will de- scend to posterity as perfectly congenial.
To Correspondents.
The Editor is flattered by the communication of the ac- count of the Funeral of Sir Thomas Egerlon ; and would have printed it, had it not been already inserted in the first vol. of The Topographer, from a copy made from the same original in the Harl. MSS. If his Correspondent wishes to have it returned, it shall be left at the Printer's.
The favours of J. H. M. and T. J. shall have a place next month.
T. Rensley, Printer, Bete Cottit, Fleet Street, LoBdoA.
CENSURA LITERARIA.
NUMBER XXXr.
[Being Number XIX. of the New Series.]
Art. I. The Essex Champion ; or the famous his- tory of Sir Billy of Billerecayy and his Squire Ricardo.
Chap. I. The birth of Sii- Billy of BlUerecay, his bringing up at school, and resolution to pursue knightly adventures.
2. How Sir Bill) and his Squire went forth to seek adventures, their en-
counter with a scare-crow, and how he came to a castle to b* dubbed knight.
3. Sir Billy watcheth his armor and is made knight by the lord of t'l^r
castle ; his ill success in running at the Quinten 3 with other things which liappened.
4. Sir Billy being dubbed knight, marchetli foitli to seek adventunss;
his encounter with ^oppet-gyants : his imprisonment in a wuoden • inchanted ca.tlf, and entertainment by the sage Fres on.
5. Ricardo is sent with a letter to Dalcina, in the mean time Sir Eiliy en-
countereth with a monstrous gyant in defence of the Tantabilan Princess, whom he manfully OTerthrows. . 6. How Ricariio in his journey towards Billerecay, met with an -ag^d palmer, who gave hi-n an invisible ring with which he cheats aa Innkeeper, as also what a trick he served a Bedlam and a Tinker. 7. How Ricardo delivered his letter to Jone Gruriiball, with her answer to it; and several exploits performed b^ Ricardo wlih his in- visible ring. FOl. VIII- <i^ 8. Hovr
226
8. How Ricardo del'iTered his message to hit master and of the challengt made by Sir Billj against all comers, in honour of his mittress Dalcina.
f. How Sir Billy was forced to run from his challenge. The mirth Ri- cardo had at a wedding, what a trick he served an old fornicator, and how he went in pursuit of his master.
10. Sir Billy's encounter with a Daucer on the i-opes, how he was carried be.'bre a Justice of the Peace, and set fnt by Ricardo by the help of his Inyisible ring.
tx. Ricardo going to recover his master's horse and armor acteth a very pleasant adventure in an Inn, with other things which hap- pened.
ti. Sir Billy's ill success in his adventure against the pedlars ; how he was rescued by Ricardo by the help of his invisible ring ; with other things that happened.
i y The woful story of a Taylor and his Sweetheart, how they were hanged in a barn : and how the murthcrers were taken by the means of Sir Billy and a Constable.
14. Sir Billy's entertainment at the Justice's house, hii oration in praise
of the golden age, with his challenging the Coroner to fight in dtfence of knight-errantry.
15. Sir Billy's encounter with the Coroner ; how he was relieved by Ri-
cardo } his admirable description of his mistress, with Ricardo't counterbuflf thereto.
[Wood- cut of two knights armed cap-a-pee, mounted on their chargers, going forth.] London: Printed for J. Blare at the Looking-glass on London- Iridge. n. d.* 4/0. pp. 7a.
This is a feeble attempt, in imitation of Cervantes, to ridicule the romances of general circulation in England. The hero Sir Billy is a shepherd, son of an ignorant farmer; the sijuire Ricardo a thresher; the enemy a constable, and the enchanted castle the stocks. The adventures are sufficiently analysed in the title.
• Upon the authority of Dr. Farmer's Catalogue (No. 3220} there ap- pears to have been an edition dated 1 690.
Ricardft's
Ricardo's possession of a ring rendering him occa- sionally Invisible seems created to relieve the author, whose imagination was in greater distress than the hero, and unequal to the task of repeatedly extricating him with a feasible exploit when thrust into difficulty or maimed in an untoward encounter. Where reason or wit is to overturn the extravagance of fiction, the auxiliary aid of enchantment taking precedence of truth is certainly out of time and place. Thus the squire being invisible while a sword in his hand ap- pears brandishing in the air to the multitude, is a pre- posterous incident, and sufficiently absurd to have been engrafted from the modern stock of charnel-house con- ceits, sprung from the German school. The work ap- pears altogether composed for the multitude that never halt to consider defects in imagery, want of unity or improbability of fable, conceiving it sufficient in the search ibr amusement when the author proclaims him- self ludicrous, and the events, like Bacon's brazen head, assume a voice of the marvellous.
Notwithstanding a late eminent literary character found his curiosity sufficiently excited to obtain and peruse those works so expressly condemned by Cer- vantes, and thereby became nearly as much infatuated as that writer's hero ; yet a selection of parallel pas- 8£^es from the present work is ventured on without expectation of similar consequences.
The errantry of the hero is founded on his early pe- rusal of the ballads of Fair Rosamond, The Blind Beg- gar of Bednal Green, King Edward the Fourth, and the Tanner } " but amongst them all, none of them pleased Billy so well as the song of that arch-pyrate Sir An- drew Barton, and that heroick poem of Chevy Chase, a 2 of
of which last the worthy Sir Philip Sidney used to say, that the hearing thereof (though sung no better than by a country crowd) stirred up his heart more than a trumpet; well therefore might it be a great motive to Billy to undertake such high adventures." After two vears instructions by the parish clerk the hero obtains an addition to his library of the History of Tom Thumb; Robin Good-fellow j the Fryer and the boy; the Three Merry Wives of Green-goose fair; the Sack full of News and a hundred Merry tales. Edu- cation advances, and the hero is placed under the tuition of the vicar, upon whose suggestion more books are to be purchased. The father buys at the next fair, at a pedlar's stall, the following renowned performances, many of them yet in high estimation, and continually sought for by the erudite mumpers in that grand emporium of mendicant literature, Long- lane.
"The Garland of Gtjod-willj theGarland of Princely Delights; Pasquill's Jests; Scoggin; Long Meg of Westminster; Doctor Faustus; Fryer Bjcon; the Seven Wise Masters; the Gentle-craft; Jack of New- bery; Reynard the Fox; Diogenes; History of Fortu- natus ; George a Green ; Bevis of Southampton; Guy of Warwick; Palmerin of England; Huon of Bor- deaux; Valentine and Orson; Don Belianis of Greece; Parismus and Parismenes ; the seven Champions of Christendom ; Destruction of Troy ; History of King Arthur; Amadis De Gaule; Tom a Lincoln the red rose knight; Pheander the maiden knight; the Knight of 'the Sun; the Mirror of Knighthood; Hero and Leander; Children in the Wood; Tom Stitch the taylor; Knight of the burning sword; Argalus and
Parthenia;
539
Panhenia; King and the Cobler; Nine penni.vorlh of wit for a penny; the Man of Kent."
In the fourth chapter a brief jiulgtnenr, as a critical one, is held on the records of chivalry, the fiery ordeal introduced, and pile of destruction heapingly supplied. The enumeration traces many lesser stars, as well as those of superior magnitude, that may be described io irradiate the fanciful and amusing hemisphere of ro- mance.
I*
Thomafio (the father) " curses the tmie that ever
he put his son to school, but more, that ever he bought him any books of knight-errantry, saying, ' they were all composed of meer witchcraft, and therefore not fit to be suffered in a well-governed common-wealth.' And now seeing he could not come at his son, he re- solved to be revenged on his books ; but being igno- rant in all sorts of learning, he associated to him Sir John, the curate of the parish, to peruse them, and what he condemned for faulty to be cast into the fire.
" Billy had locked up all his library in a very large chest, of which he carried the key always about him, and therefore oldThomasio caused it to be broke open- The first book they laid hands on was Sir Eevis of Southampton ; ' This (said the curate) is the father of our English romances, made upon a knight who lived ij) the time of William the Conqueror, but hath in it an el! of lying to an inch of truth.' ' And by my fav (said Thomasio) a lyar they say is as bad as a thief, and therefore to the fire he shall go, although he were a killer of gyants and dragons.* The next that came to hand was the first and second part of Amadis de Gaule in English. ' The original of this (said the curate) is Frepcl;)^ of which there is above thirty parts, but we Q 3 in
2S<y
in English have but six of them.' * And by plough- share (said Thomasio) that is too much by above five of them, and therefore he shall accompany his fel- low Sir Bevis in the fire!' 'Next, (said the curate) here is Palmerin D'Oliva in three parts, Primaleon of Greece in three parts, Palmerin of England in three parts, and Palmendas in onej all these are one con- tinued history of an Emperor of Constantinople, called Palmerin D'Oliva, his son Primaleon and grandson Palmerin of England, and others.' * By my fay, (said Thomasio) these Palmerins and Amadisses v^'ere notable cutting and slashing blades, which made a great dis- turbance in the world, but we shall reconcile them all in one fire together, notwithstanding they were such big fellows in their time.' * The next (said the curate) is Don Belianis of Greece, one who could cut two or three gyants in two by the middle at a stroke.' ' Were he Achilles of Greece (said Thomasio) he should go to the fire, and if I had the author of his history he should likewise accompany him for his abominable lying.' ' The next (said the curate) is Paladine of England, one also of French extraction, but more modest in his expressions than Don Bellianis.' ' His modesty (said Thomasio) shall not excuse him, but he shall to the fire were he as big a Frenchman as Charlemain. But what. Sir John, is that book which hath a curtain drawn over the letters at the beginning of it?' * This (said the curate) is worthy to be preserved, it being the history of Argalus and Parthenia, written by the di- vine poet Mr. Francis Quarles.' * Why (said Tho- masio) was not that Argalus a knight-errant ?' * O no (quoth the curate) but one who was premised for the pattern of virtue, and example of true love and
magnanimity,*
231
magnanimity.* These words gave the noble Argalus a reprieve from the fire, but the next they laid hands on felt a worser fate, which was the Mirror of Knight- hood, in nine parts, for which Thomasio would hear no excuse, but said, that the fire would purge it from all its lies, wherewith that and other books of knight- errantry do abound ; whereupon it was cast into the fire; as also the foure Sons of Amon, Arthur of Great Britain, Arthur of Little Britain, Valentine and Orson, Parismus and Parismenus, Montelion Knight of the Oracle, Ornatus and Artesia, the Seven Champions of Christendom, Guy of Warwick, Cleoctrean and Clory- ana, Chinon of England, Galien of France, Aratos Prince of Greece, Tom a Lincoln the red rose knight, Huon of Burdeaux, Pheander the maiden knight, and ^il other books of that nature, of which he would spare none; ajid indeed he had none of the more refined sort, such as the Countess of Pembrook's Arcadia, Bentevolio and Vrania, the Illustrious Bassa, Grand Cyrus, Astreo, Palexander, Eremena, the Banished Virgin, Coralbo, Ariana, Clelia, Cassandra, Cleopatra, Pharamond, Iphigenis, Grand Scipio, and some others. These T conceive either were not written in his time, or too dear for him to purchase. Some books of poetry he had likewise amongst them, but all Thoma- sio's spight being against knight-errantry, he let the books of poetry escape the fire, yet judged them not good for any thing, unless to be put under mutton pasties or apple pies." '
The inconsistency of the attacks and subsequent dis- comfitures of the hero; the extravagance of his passion for Joan Grumball; saturnine manners; for " Sir Bi|ly used every evening to walk in the garden, with A 4 Jiis
2S2
his hands indented one with another, as melancholy as a gyb'd cat, * his thoughts of chevahy being made so habitual to him as it was now become part of his nature," are evidently borrowed from the knight of La Mancha. In the adventure of the Quinten, that machine is fully described, and as a Shaksperian article f is worth transcribing.
'' Sir Billy and his squire made the gentlemen to Iau2;h heartily, who now consulted together upon what attempt to put this new-made knight : at last they agreed to set up a Quinten, which is a cross-bar turn- ing upon a pole, having a broad board at the one end, and a bag full of sand hanging at the other. Now he that ran at it with his launce, if he hit not the board was laughed to scorn, and if he hit it full and rid not the faster, would have such a blow with the sand bagg on his back, as would sometimes beat them off their horses," [Exception is taken to the attack by ihq hero as not being within the pale of erranlrvj but the sc[uire is permitted to try his fortune.] '•'Thegentleman which encounlred Sir Billy was the first that ran at the Quinten, who performed the same with great agility, riding with such swift speed as if his horse scorned to
• This obsolete term created a discussion among the ccmmentatcrs on Shakspeare, but without any satisfactory result j anil the following random conjecture may be also wide of the true explanation. The word g\b or jrb is generally used by jockies or drivers whei> aiiorse will not t^ke collar in the brake; up-hill, jaded j or for any other reason. To associate this idea wi h the domsstic manners of i cat must be to consider wantonness forming a wrapper round the animars neck^ whereby it becomes distressed, and after in- effectual trial for relief, being overwearied, looks sedentary and melancholy. An invention of similar kind is described in the humoursome performance of Geoffrey Gambad*, who designates it a puzzle for a dog, and, I am informed, pftfn used to break a young pointer to the scent. Reed's Shak. V. ii. p. 200. t lb. V. viii. p 29, 193.
touch
^33
touch the ground, whereby he came off with great ap- plause. The next that ran was a servant of the house, steward to the gentleman, who hitting the board too full e'er he could pass away, had such a blow with the sand-bag as aUnost felled hini oft' his horse. Next Ri- ciirdowas perswadcd to take his turn" [who is exposed to laughter by his horse running away.] Sir Billy was exceeding wroth at this disgrace of his squire, threatning revenge on all those who rejoyced at his misfortiiue ; but the genilemcn pacified him all they could, telling him it was only the fortune of war, and though knights, errant were of themselves invincil)lej yet their squires were not always so. That therefore it would be con- venient for him to try the adventure himself to recover the disgrace of his squire; for though succouring dis- tressed ladies and killing of gyants were the main pro- perties belonging to knights errant, yet that they ac- customed themselves also to justs and turnameuts, which were near of kin unto the Quinten. That he need not doubt but by the might of his invincible arms and the assistance of the lady of his affections, but he should be victorious in whatsoever he went about. These and the like words so encouraged Sir Billy, that he swore by the honour of his knighthood, he would encounter with the Quinten, although it were the devil himself,
'' The gentlemen having now what they desired, soothed him up, until he was mounted on liis Bellero- phon, for he would ride no other, professing that Bu- cephalus, the horse of King Alexander, was not com- parable unto him ; so taking his launce in his hand, he rid with all his might at the Quinten, and hitting thf board a full blow, brought the sand-bag about
with
^34
with such force, as made him measure his length on the ground. This disgrace of the master caused a louder laughter than that of the servant, but in Sir Billy it wrought such shame and confusion, as had almost banisht in him all further thoughts of knight- errantry ; wherefore the gentlemen, to keep up the hu- mour, told him, that this was done by the envy of the wicked necromancer Soto, who was an utter enemy to all knights-errant."
The following description of a wedding is amusing. *' In most parts of Essex it is a common custom when poor people marry, to make a kind of a dog-hanging, or money-gathering, which they call a wedding-din- ner, to which they invite Tag and Rag, all that will come; where, after dinner, upon summons of the fidler, who setteth forth his voice like a town cryer, a t^ble being set forth, and the bride set simpering at the upper end of it ; the bridegroom standing by with a white sheet overthwart his shoulders, as if he did penance for the folly he had committed that day; whilst the people invited to it, like the soldiers of a country train-band, march up to the bride, present (their mony) and wheel about. After this offering i$ over, then is a pair of gloves laid on the table, most monstrously bedaubed about with ribbcn, which by way of auction is set to sale at who gives most, and he whose hap is for to have them, shall withal have a kiss of the bride, which many times is not much worth, because her breath is nqt so sweet-scented as her gloves.'*
Conduit street. J. H,
Art.
235
Art. II. The Protestant religion is a sure foun- dation and principle of a true Christian and a good subject^ a great frieiid to humane society, and a grand promoter of all virtues loth Christian and moral. London: Printed ylnno Domini 1669.
Art. III. The Protestant religion is a sure fo7in- dation and principle of a true Christian, and a good subject, a great friend to humane society, and a grand promoter of all virtues both Christian and moral. The Second Edition, by Charles Earl of Derby, Lord of Mann and the Isles. I^ondon : Printed for IVilliam Cademan at the Pope's Head, in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange, 1671. 4^0.
The above title-pages are here given as Mr. Park, in his enlarged edition of Walpole's Royal and Noble Authors,* speaks somewhat doubtfully with regard to the dates which they respectively bear. The uninte- resting nature of the work in general, and the violent manner In which it is written, render unnecessary any additional extracts to those originally given by Lord Orford. J. H. M.
Art. IV. A Treatise oj Honor and honorable men whtrein the nature, antiquity, nesesity, and effects of j4rmes and honor is fully demonstrated and ex- emplified in divers remuneration and signall ar- morial remembrances, of ancient heroes, of this
* Vol. III. page 126.
English
Knrrllsli nalioVj wherein is contained many things of name and sirname with the reasoiis of the in- crease or decay of families, never before handled in the like method. By Silvamis Morgan, i6^3. 4^0. pp. i58, -
This curious, and apparently genuine manuscript is entitled to some little attention, the heraldic abilities of Morgan having been generally very unduly estimated, and so many doubts having existed, as to his being the actual author of the work which passes under his name, entitled " The Sphere of Gentry." Bishop Nicolson and Wood have, indeed, without the least hesitation, ascribed it to Waterhouse; but a correspondent,* in the Gentleman's Magazine,t on the other hand, has contradicted this assertion, and endeavoured to rescue Morgan's reputation from the obloquy and neglect which have been thus thrown over it. The following exlracts from the manuscript now under cons-deration, may probably be a means of deciding this question, and of proving whether his antiquarian researches were not sufficiently adequate to the task.
'^ List of Chapters.
'* Chap. I. Of Armes and the antiquity thereof. 3. Of Armes and the necessity thereof.
3. Of Honor and the effects thereof.
4. Of Honor and the defects thereof.
5. Reasons conjectural why men attribute so much
to the Berings of Armes as to think themselves thereby the more virtuous.
* The Editor of this worl;^ f Vol. LXVI. page 367.
6. Whether
n7
6. Whether one action may make a man hono-
rable.
7. Of the dignity of words and mottoes in armes
and ensignes.
8. Of the decay of familyes.
9. Of the office of a hcrehauhe.
10. Of augmentations in general.
11. Dedicating the ensuing parte of augmentations
to thos that have so acquired them. Chap, the last, a discourse of names and the ctimolls. thereof."
** Epistell Dedicatory,
*' You yon I call who are truly generouSj neither i)raaded with apostaci, cr impiety, neither with se- dition or ambition, you who are the patron of honor, and lover of your country, therfore S. M. dedicateth these his indeavor§ to the Right Honorable and most Christian Lord, a man noble in his trials, Robert Devereiix P^arle of Essex and Ewe, Vicount Heriforde and Chartley, grete Ohamberlalne, 8cc.
*' Humbly craving your Honor's patronage and pardon for your unworthy servant, and his slender in- deavors, who having raised up a bird of honor out of the ashes of antiquity to shew his thankfulness hatii preserved these few remains in this urne, superscribed with your name and honor so plaine to reade, that noe antiquari shall stumble at the hardness of the character or difficult! in the stile, but the running reader shall perceave in every letter of your name honor. And whersoever this shall be receaved, this also shall be wrighten of you — Captaine general of all the forces, raised by the Parliament for defence of the King and
true
438
true Protestant religion; this is that good work, the anointing of the head, and washing of the feat of our Saviour, and shall remaine while the yeare of our health 1643 *^^'^ ^^ ^^'^ ^'^ remembrance, and may the wishes of your devoted servant rest on you.
Vivite, vincite, valcte,
Sylvanus Morgan."
The following extracts are taken from the eighth chapter, upon the ** Decay of Familycs."
*' For the decaye of familyes we will conclder it, in ramo, or in radice; for the first ther is noe decaye in the comon stocke, for we are relatively branches of one tree, and so ther is nether decaye ether in the root or generall branches, but if we concider these branches as plants then they become seuerall stocks.
** The evangelist Saint Mathew begins at the roote of the family and reckons upward, till Christ; but Luke begins at the branch, the seed of the woman that should breake the serpent's heade, and like two expert geniologisls draw to the same roote by several branches; and so indeed if we concider the drawing of the line of families from heires generall there is seldome an ab- solute decay, but nevertheless so long as the heires male continu ther is a continuation of the family, if not in action, yet in power; but for as much as the heire male carryes the name, when hee or they dissease, it then becomes extinct, which was the reason of the consideration of Edniond Deyncourt, concidering that both his name and amies would not be had in remem- brance in the person of Isabell his daughter, did ther- fore request of his Sovereign to dispose and give all his manours, land, &c. which he held of the King in
Capite
^39
Caplte to whom he pleased. And in this case it some- times hapens as with many ancient manours which were holden by barony, which upon ocations byrever- tion or forfeit have come to the crowne, and many familyes have beene in the branches like the tree that cumbred the ground, of whom was expected fruite but found none. Againe it sometimes happens that some familyes decay by neglect, and lose themselves for want of care to preserve iher rights and privilidges, and do many times take up armes on trust, which becomes much prejudice to them. But more espetialy ther fol- lowes a speedy decay of many worthy familyes by the devision of the inheritance among many younger brothers, when indeed the tnaine inheritance ought to be presearved intier, and in the boddy, the same; how- ever by leases and annuities they also may be suplyed, which will become but as the loping off of some branches, and is quickly recoverable. Who list to see a president may look into Mr. Burton's discription of Leichestershire. Therfore as wee formerly observed that to maintaine the authority of ancestors wee must support the reputation by vertue, for if the succession of that faile, quickly also followes the rootes decay, and as hath been saide, that many a stoute oke hath been decayed by the flattring tree that twined about it; and so indeed was that Prince ridd of his two flatterers that made the one drive the other out of his kingdom by a whippe: unprofitable branches may sprout for a time, but they at last become but combustible matur. Againe who knowes not the Britaines were made vas- sales to the Romans; they extirpated by the Saxons — Saxons in servitude by Daines— both suppressed by the Normans.'* J. H. M.
Art.
240
Art. V. A Dhcourse of MUllary Discipline^ dcvided into three Boockes, declaringe the partes and sufficiencie ordained in a private Souldier, and in each Officer ; servivig in the Infantery, till the election and office of the Captaine Generall; and the last Booke treatinge of Jire-wourckes of rare executiones l<y sea and lande, as also offrtifasions. Composed ly Captaine Gerat Barry Irish. At Bruxells ly the Widoio of Ihon Mommart. 1634. Small Folio. Pages 211, exclusive of dedication, ^c. [There is aiso an engravm title-page prefixed to the work, containing the arms of the Barry family, with supporters, &c. placed upon a pedestal, on each side of which is a warrior completely armed with the word avance upon his sword.]
Of Captain Gerat Barry I have not been able to meet with any oihtr account than what the dedication to the present work affords, viz. that he was a descend- ant of the illustrious family of Barry, and allied to the nobleman of that name, to whom the book is inscribed, though the precise degree of alEnity that cxi&tcd be- tween them is not stated. In " the privikdge" for printing the volume he is styled " our wel beloved Captaine Gerat Barry, Irishman, our pensioner at the Zass of Gante."
It may I think be safely urged as a proof of the rarity of the book in question, that amongst thr nume- rous works treating upon military subjects, which Grose had recourse to in the compilation of his elabo- rate History of the English Army, he has made ho mention whatsoever of this code of military discipline, and which would certainly have afforded him much
valuable
Hi
valuable information had it been thrown in his way. The orthography is extremely singular, and has been scrupulously attended to in transcribing the following extracts.
*' To the Right Honorable David Barnj^ Earle of Barry-moar, Vicounte of Butevante, Baron of Ibaune, Lorde of Barry coiirte and Castelliones^
" RiGHTE Honorable,
** Havinge tried my fortune in foraigne nationes, thies thirty three yeares in this my presente profession of armes, in his CatholikeMajestie's service, amongste the Spaniard, Italian, and Irish, meaninge the firste foure yeares in the real army of the Ocean Sea, and the other 39 yeares in the warres and brave exploites of the Lowe Countries, and Germany; as a souldier, pin- cioner, aventajado, alferis, ajudate, and captaine: Nowe beinge moved by certaine friendes, as alsoe by the greate affection i allwayes had to this my presente profession of armes; hivinge intered soe far into the blouddy boUndes of Mars. Duririge whiche time i have imployed myselfe in gatheringe, and learninge oute of many brave auctors, as alsoe whate i have scene myselfe and otheres practised in warr, in many braive exploytes and rare incountersj all whiche i toughte fitt to sett downe in writhinge to inlighten my beloved countrimen. Suche as are nott skillful in warres, and are desirouse to inter into the noble profession of armes: soe that therby they may gaihir some instruc- tiones, and with greater auctority and estimation ac- complishe theyre obligationes, (wherefore I make boulde to dedicate the same unto youre honour) whiche 1 woulde it were handled by a more perfecte souldier
VOL. VIII. H then
242
then my*elfc J soc that it may by the more agreable lo your incorriipted vertues, and noble inclination and love, wherunto i am boiinde, as a true and natural scr- vante of yoiire honour's, and specially for hemge de- scended from youre hovse, as alsoe for the general utility of youre honour, and those of my nation, which are inclined to this honorable exercise; I have taken the paines to write this volume entituled * Mili- tary Discipline,' in which is contayned the observa- tiones and obligationes of cache one servinge in the iiifanter}'; beginnenge with a private souldier to a cap- taine general, he. &c."
" The Contentes of this Wourcke set downe in Lreefe."
" In the firste booke are contained the military in- structiones necessary to be observed in the noble pro- fession of armcs amongste the infantery, from a pri- vate souldior, till the election and office ol a campe master of a regimentc of infantery,
"The seconde booke treatin^re of the election of a ciimpe master generall, whiche nexie to the captaine generall is the cheefe conductor of an army; after fol- lowes the election of the captaine generall of the artil- lery, and finishenge with the office of a captaine gene • rail of an army.
*'The thirde booke treatinfje of fire wourckcs of rare exccutiones by sea and lande, and of the confines ot a kingdom, and the goode lawes to be observed in the same, and howe it is to be fortified by arte or by nature, or by bothe, to withstande the enemyes attemptes, and the necrssarv courses convenlcnte to be taken."
The following are extracts selected from the first chapter.
- " Dcclarinjrc
H3
" Declaringe the partes and sufficiency required in a privat souldior.
"He which intereth into the noble profession of armes firsteand principally oughte to be a goode Chris- tian, fearfull of God, and devoute, thattherby his pro- ceedinges may the better prevaile, and finishe with a happy ende. Secondly to buylde his valerouse deter- minationcs with a constante and uncorruptcd zeale in servinge his Prince with great love and punctuality. Alsoe to by obediente to his officercs from the loweste to the higheste in degree. If otherwise he by in- clined, he erreih much, yea and hardley all the goode partes in him can prosper. Litle or no apeerance can by of his furtherance or goode success, hardly any body can iruste in him, or hope of any goode proceed- inges of his, hee is to by litle esteemed in referinge to his chargde any office or comaunde: no man of quali- tie and goode partes can truste in him, or keepe him company.
** Hee which intered into this noble profession of armes oughte to shun eschewe and forsake all basenes imagined and thougt of manes mynde. And he oughte diligently to applee himself to learne the arte of warr, from whence proceedeth all nobilitye, andwherby many men of lowe degrees and base llnadgc have at- tayned into high degrees dignitie and fame, as CaiuiJ Marius, descended of poore and vile parentes in a viladge of the Arpines, came to by a Romaine Empe- rour; and trough his vertue Valincian a povre man is son of Cibaly in Hongari came into the licke dignitie, and alsoe Maximino bourne in a poure caste) in Thra- cia, Nicolas Pichino, a boucheres son, by his vertue and valor came to by captain generall of Philipp Vi- B 2 conte
H4
conte Ducke of Milan is army and of ali the poten- tates of Italic.
*' Let him by carefull to chuse to his comarades and fellowes oulde soukUcrs if possible, and men well ac- quainted, and of good condition, and to by yerie care- full that ihey bee no factioncrs nor mutineres, whose company arc more dangerouse then ihe divell, he is to by quiet and frindly, and rather seveare then licen- tiouse in spiches, for such likepersonesmostecomonly doe loose there estimation togither with theyr owne quietnes, and are wonte to have many unhappie crosses in this worlde, and to bee little reputed, and hardly can prosper as wee dayly see.
^' In his diet let him not by to couriouse nor in- clined to delicate meates, rather to distribute well his meanes, and contente himself with such provitiones as the campe or places shall affourde, for those that are giuen to there belly, and to the unsatiable vice of drunknes are apte for nothing, and most comonlie are subject to many disgraces vvherof theyr are many examples.
*^ He is to be carefull and vigilante in keepinge hi& culores or watch with greate punctual! tie, and beeinge imployed in centery or rounde let him by verie warie in acomplishinge his obligaciones, and specially not to fall asleepc, for beeing soe founde it lieth in the dis- gression of the officer to use him acording his desert, as did Phirates in Corinto going in the rounde of that cittie, and findinge a souldier asleepe killed him, when otherwise the least aflfronte he coulde have was to be in publicke punished, and that for example to the rest, that are not wourdie to carie armes for ther carelesh mindes and litle honor. Let him look well not to re- fuse
545
fuse his officieres beinge comaunded in ocationes of his Majestie's service and be no meanes let him not by absente from his garde beinge on the watche witholite licence of his officer, though hee thinketh the place to bee peasable, and of no suspicion. If he thincketh to goe forwarde, or to bee prefcred in this arte he pro- feshcth, he is to acompUsh with greate care and punc- tualitie his obligationes, that by his care and diligence he may dayly hope of better prefermente. Let him consider that our predecessores were not captaines nor master-de-cam pes, nor that they were bourne with thies offices, but rather with goode partes, diligence and good service, optained the same honorablie.
*' Let him not marry if he hopeth to acomplish well his obligationes, or to bee prefered, for in ocationes of march if shee goe alonge with him hardlie can he well accomplish with his obligationes, if his meanes be litle and beinge chardged with many children, con- sider whate, and how many crosses shall happen, and he muste of force neglecte in accomplishinge the obli^- gationes of an honorable souldior in the righte per- formance of the Kinge's service, or forgoe his wife and children, for he hath inough in accomplishinge well with the one, and give over the other.
*' In all places in townes, citties or villadges where he is lodged, let him by kinde and amiable with his hoste, and let him demaunde for no delicate meates nor regalose, as som are inclined unto, but rather con- forme himselfe with his hoste. For all thinges don with amitie in thies ocationes is far better, and more laudable then rigor and disorderes, wherof oftentimes resulteth greate scandeles disgraces and revokes. If it shoulde chance as somtimes happens that his patron R 3 or
34^
or hoste shoulde be a man of unreasonable conditiones, let the souldier then repayre to his officer that he might by changed into another jplace, or els see his Cf^use remedied better. ; J • r rt^
" Let him allvvayes aplle himself to warlike exer- cises with affection, because that vertue exeleth for- tune, and it avayleth him, much to read histories and to be experte in aritmeticke, for it doth both revive and perfectionaie mane's witt. Therebe shall he under- stande the carladge, prudence, and valor of brave men, and base inclination of bad persones, the alteration or decayinge of kingdomes and comonwealthes, the brave and prudente conduction and stratagemes of battelles, both won and lost, the vertue and valor of the re- noomed, the shame and infamie of the vile, the mancr and use of anciente and moderne warres with the stratagemes used both for the one and the other.
** If he happen to be at the siedge or takinge of any strong place or fortresjse, he is diligentlie to vew the scituation, the orderes and Industrie used for the de- fence therof, and the stratagemes used for the winingt of the same; consideringe thiege aforesaide and many more used in warres, and that which toucheth everie officer in particular, even from a corporal to a captaine generall, to the ende he rnay be perfecte in the arte he professeth, that by his vertue he may be advanced into greater dingnitie, sith that this arte he profesheth is the moother and true fundation of nobilitie. Therfore reason it is that it be perfectly understoode of the pro- fessores and followers thereof, seinge that the practice pf mecanicall artes do folowe the same order and course to come to the cunninge of theyre crafte. And that besides, that no man can reduce into perfection those
things
547
things wherof he is ingnorantc, and knoweth not the arte, without much practice, and specially in this so noble and couriouse arte, who for the executiones therof, with prudence and auctoritie is required both longe and diligente practice and theorike. It im- porteth him muche to be a goode swimer which is one of the foure qualities required in a souldicr, to be re- buste or stronge of boddy, nemble and skillfull in armes, and obediente, thies-are the foure qualities a foresaide required in a souldier. Thus youe see who many goode and honorable partes are wished to be in a perfect souldier, not learned be heersay nor gained withe ease and vaine glorie,but rather in aplienge him- self well with affection, care, diligf.'nce, valor, and prac- tice, and specially perfected with learninge and long exercice in warr.'*
J. H. M.
Art. VI. Poems upon several occasions. By S[amueV\ P[ordage] Gent. London: Printed ly IV. G. for Henry Marsh, at the Princes Arms in Chancery- lane, and Peter Dring at the Sun in the Poulirey neer the Counter. 1 660. Svo. 38 leaves.
. Dr. John Pordage, Rector of Bradfield, Berkshire, the author's father, was tried for insufficiency before the committee for plundered ministers appointed during the inter-regnum, and the cause dismissed in his favour March 27, 165 1. About three years after- wards the same charges were revived with additional contemptible matter, founded upon visions and witch- craft, and unfitting the cognizance of any court of R 4 judicature.
248
judicature. After several adjourned meetings and long examinations, puerile and inconsistent, he was finally ejected Dec. 8, 1654, as '^ ignorant and very insuf- ficient for the work of the ministry." The report of the proceedings, as drawn up by himself, is inserted among the State Trials, * and proves the common ex- pression applicable, " He was no conjuror."
Notwithstanding the result of the prosecution, the family appears to have continued to reside at Bradfield. Samuel Pordage, our author, subscribes the preface to his translation of the Troas of Seneca, (published 1660) from " Bradfieldae, Cal. Npvembris." He also wrote Stanzas on the Coronation of Charles II. a tragedy called Hero and Mariamne; a tragi-comedy named the Siege of Babylon j and the rornance of Eliana. In 1679, after the death of the author, John Reinolds, he published the sixth edition, with cuts, of ** God's re- - venge against murder," and first added the *' Revenge against Adultery j" at which period he had been entered a niember of the Society of Lincoln's Inn. He ap- pears to have been formerly head steward of the lands to Philip (the second of that name) Earl of Pembroke,t who succeeded to the title 1652. His claim to notice as a poet is founded on a pile of rubbish, and his name would probably have been buried with the multi- tude and forgotten, but for the niche obtained in the Biographia Dramatica, and his contumelious attack uponDryden by the poems of *^Azariah and Hushai," and the " Medal Reversed." J He is mentioned by
Langbaine, in 1691, ais lately if not then living.
' This
• Vpl. II. p. 217. -I- See Wood's Ath. Ox. V. I. Col. 395.
% See an account of these poems by Mr. Scottj in his late edition of the
work*
249
This tasteless collection has an elegy on Charles I. and panegyrics on Charles II. and General Monk; the remainder are chiefly amatory, burthened with overstrained conceits, and language forced and inhar- monious. The following specimens will suffice as the best, and for the remainder let the stream of oblivion glide on undisturbed.
*' To Sylvia weeping.
'' Fair Sylvia, you possess more treasures than The ruble east ; those weeping eyes more gems
Than the rich store-house of the ocean,
For you at pleasure can those chrystal streams
Which trickle from the fountaines of your eyes
Convert int' orient pearls j but richer prize.
What taking charmes lye in your sweeter face, When freed from cloudy- weeping griefs you smile
With a clear brow ! If tears with such a grace Becomej if so much lustre has the foile
To Beauty J what excess of glory then
Will bud from those sweet lights, when fair agen?
Now the (like silver'd Cynthia's beauty, when The interposing earth hides her bright face)
Dost suffer an ecclipse; thy tears restrain
Thy beautie's radiant beams ; tears fill the place
Of bounteous light ; yet is that shadow fair;
Others with which (at best) may not compare.
Phoebus now hides behind a watery cloud His brighter head; by which we better maj
Gaze on his light : thy suns (fair Sylvia) shroud Themselves behind a cloud of tears to day,
works of Dryden, V. IX. p. 372, who seems to have muconcelTcd rather a« ambiguous expression of Baker, in considering the " Revenge against Mur» <fer" as published after the death of Pordage, instead of Reinolds.
Out
250
Out of like kindness j and suppress their bright And splendid beams, to favour my weak sight.
Enough, fair Syh'ial clear those Cynthian lights. From that ecclipse of sorrow j wipe away
That hanging cloud of tears; which still excites Your stillborn grief such pearly price to pay :
Were you enflam'd with scorching love, as I,
Its ardor soon those dewy pearls would dry.
After Aurora with her silver showers
Has wash'd her grandame Tellus' chapped face, A pleasant zephyrus the dark heaven scours.
And Sol steps out with a far greater grace ; After a storm fair weather doth succeed j Let sable grief your whiter joys then breed.
I long to see those fairer suns to shine. Freed from the dewy moistmre of a tear.
Now they would seem (after this) more divine. As Phoebus after an eclipse more clear:
Let day the night succeed, and cease to mourn,
Baiiish griefs night, whilst joy's day takes its turn."
" Jtsence*
" Such is the melancholy earth, when light Flics thence, and leaves its room to sable night; "When darkness, cold and shadows dwell upon Her surface; some pale glimmerings of the moon Is all she can expect ; a mourner then She is till Phoesbus brings his day agen : Such is the matchless, mateless turtle dove. Sighing its murmurs for its absent love: Such is the body when the soul is fled. Such Pyramus supposing Thisbe dead: Such the male palm the female broken down ; As I am now, my fairest Sylvia's gone.
Mr
My wither'd head declines apace, my green
And growing youth to sprout no more is seen.
My blood's grown cold, and frozen ; every limb
As if it wanted heat, and life doth seem.
My hoarse complaints the very rocks do move.
Who eccho the last accents of my love;
A silent night inhabits my sad breast.
And now no chearful thought will be my guect.
Till her return, whose eyes will cause a day.
Thus must I in my own unquiet stay;
Wishing for the bright morning, which must rise
From th' luminaries of fair Sylvia's eyes."
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. VII. A Preservative agaynste Deth. Londini. An. M. D. XLr. Colophon. Imprinted at Lon- don, in Fletesirete, by Thomas Berthelet, printer to the Kynges Highnes, the seconde of July, the yere of our Lorde MDXLV. Cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum. Small 8fo. Sig E ij\*
At a period when the layman grew positive and loud against pride and bigotry, and the monk was strenuous in continuing to uphold the dark veil of mystery, this plain ethical discourse was published unconnected with the polemics of the lime. The universal learning of
• The loan of a volume, containing th's and the following article, hat been obligingly made by a literary gentleman, who notices the first as omitted by Herhert. It is mentioned in Berkcnhoiit's Biog. Lit. and ap- pears the only edition. The tide is in ihe author's usual comp»rtmcnt, havinj the date 1534 n the sell ; at the back, the arms probably of SirEd- vrard Njrtb, (motto,, Face avt Tace.) Aho repeated on the page after ths colophon, where a 5ubs(^<ju';nt leaf contains the printq-'s sign of Lucrctii Rt>n)aBa.
the
the aulbor. Sir Thomas Eiyot, commanded every sub- ject, while his unaffected language was held in, as uni- versal esteem. Interspersed with short passages from scripture, and the works of the fathers, he fiamed this brief essay for general perusal, and considered the doc- trine would receive additional weight in the opinion of the multitude, being written while he served sheriff; an office he held for the county of Cambridge. Prefixed is a dedicatory preface, commencing
" Thomas Elyoty Knyght, to his Worshypfull frendey Syr Edwarde North, Knight Chancellour of the court oj the augment acioiis of the reuenues of the Kinges crouncj desireth well to doo.
*'The lyttell boke whyche I sent to you at the be- gynnynge of Lent last passed, a smal requitall of your genlyll benefites, I haue caused nowe to be printed; as well for a testimonie of the herty loue, whiche I doo beare toward you, and that being printed it maie the lengar endure with you and others, as also that my priuate gift maie be beneficiall to many men, which, without disdaine or enuy, will oftentymes rcade it. I knowe well, some men will thinke, and saie also per^ chaunce, that I spende my witte vainely, for it is the office of priestes for to preache and it dothe not per- teine to a knyght, much lesse to a sheriffe, to write, specially of suche holy mattiers. Also that in writyng to you, whiche are continually occupied about the Vynge^ maiesties busynesse, I lose all my labour; considering that beside the tymes of meale and of slepe (whiche also be littell and scarse, as I well haue per- ceyued) there remaineth with you none opportunitie to rcade any bokes of Englyshe or Latin. — Where for the
more
253
more reuere'ce due to the order of priesthode, it is most congruent and littyng, that preaching in com- mune assembles be rcserued onely to that ministracion, vet where a knyght or other man, not being of a lite estimacion, hath lernyng ioyned with moderate dis- crecion, yf he being zelouse of vertue, and mcued only by charitie, wolde fayne haue other men to re- . niembre their state and condicion, and according to their dueties, to loue God, and to feare his terrible sentence, what law or raison should lette hym, with an humble spirite and vncorrupted intent, to set furth in writing or print, that whiche shalbe commodious to many men. And if he be a knight, or in other au- thoritie (for the rarenesse of learnynge founden in suche men) the warke shal be muche the better im- braced, and of the moo men desyred. Also for as- muche as I am a sherifle, I think my selfe the more bounden to bee thus occupied. For sens it pertaincth to myn office, and also the lawes of this realme doo compel! me to punishe transgressours; howe muche more is it my duetie, to doo the best that I can, by all studye and meanes to withdrawemen from transgress- ing the lawes and commaundementes of God, whiche beinge diligently and truely obserued, the occasions of transgressyng of temporal! lawes should be clerely ex eluded. — Aswel for myn owne erudicion, as for the re- membrace of other men, T haue gathered togither out of holy scripture this litle treatise; whiche often tymes radde and kept in remembraunce shall be a preserua- tive against death euerlasting. — And as touehynge the readyng of this lille woorke, if ye do rede it in the masse while, for lackeof ty me more conuenient, I dare vndertakc, God will bee therwith nothyng ofiended;
but
^^4
but yi being thervvlth stered the more deuoutly to serue hym, he shall receyue it of you as a good praier, sens that meditacion and praier be but one thing in their nature."— ' ' ' . '' v* -di"
The following extract upon wrath, inserted towards the conclusion of the work, will serve as sufficient specimen of the author's manner and reasoning in-his character as a thcologist.
** What haue we to saie vnto wrathe, whiche is mixt with the bloudde in oure bodies, and lyeth therein priuyly wrapped lyke a sparke of wilde fier, hidde vn- der ashes, vrityl some matticr be mynistred, that of- fendeth our riiyndesj than brasteth it out with a violent flame and setteth the house on a fier, burnyng the pillars of raison, and doune falleth the roufe of charitie, and is therewith consumed. Wrathe (saith Salamon) hath no mercy, nor the brastyng out furye. And who maie sufFre the violence of the spirite, whiche is excedingly meued ? But two meanes there be for to resist it. One by the often remembraunce of hir and hir contrarye byfore she inuadeth. He that somtyme beholdeth a persone, whyche is vehemently angry, how his face changeth, how his lyppes trembleth, his mouthe perchaunce fometh, and his voyce is altered, his wordes disordred, his wittes dispersed, his reason subuerted, a man in nature, a brute beast in figure, a diuell in coniecture; leat hym haue this fourme in re- membrance, and consider his nature transformed. As sone as we bee prouoked to wrathe, leat vs imme- diately thinke, that they whiche beholde vs, will detest the same thing in vs, that we abhorred before in an other. If we be subiectes, or scruauntes, we should refraine angre for our obedience; remembring that
Saynte
Sayntc Paiile saicth, seruauntes, be obedient to your carnail maisters with feare and dreade, in simplicilieof your hartes as vnto Christ. If we be masters or rulers, leat vs consider, what our exaumple shall bee to them that bee vnder vs; if it shall beyll, we sustayne double bourdeyne, theyrs and our owne. Of such importaunce is wrathe, that where it is feruente, both reason and iustice be drowned. The wrathe of a man (saieth Saincl James) doethe not exercise the iustice of God. And therefore it hath ben thought of some wyse men, that it is not expedient to put in authoritee men, whiche of their nature are exceedyngly angry for euery occasion, leste they beynge stered with their naturall fiersenesse, and prouoked by their owne wilfull appe- tites, lyke to wylde beastes, in their rage dooe brynge thynges out of ordre, and punish the innocent with the ofTendour, and doe other thynges, wherof they to late doe repent theim ; wherof the worlde is full in daiely experience. An other meane (which Scneke dooeth call the chiefe remedie) is the deferryng of wrath ; that first the ferventnes maie be abated, and the darke myste, which anoyeth the mynde, may either fall, or not be so thicke. It is a good doctrine to vs, though we be Christen men, the lesson that Apollodorus the philosophicr lefte to the Emperour Augustus. Whan any occasion happeneth (saieth he) whiche maie pro- uoke the to angre, before that thou dooest or saiest any thynge, rcmembre to reherce all the letters in the Greke alphabete. In remembring this lesson, and folowynge it, Augustus euer after refrained his angre, wherevnto before he w^as of his nature disposed. V/hy shuld we disdayn to dooe that whiche so great an Emperour didde? Vnto whom in greatnesse of rule neuer any
other
^S6
other myght be compared ? Or by cause we be Chris- ten men, in the stede of the xxiiij letters of Greke, we maie reherse distinctly the Pater noster, either jii Latine or Englishe. Wherein we shall haue this ad- uauntage, that in the reciting these words, ' forgeue vs our trespasses, as we forgeue them that doo trespasse against vs,* we shal be muche more stirred to remitte our displeasure, or at the leste waie to forbeare to be than angry. Finally, the forbearing shall make the anjrre more moderate, the inclination to wrath maie be well tempred by the remembraunce of pacicnce howe beaultyfull she is, and how well beloued, not of man onely, but also of God."
Conduit-street. J. H.
Art. VIII. A comfortable exhortacion agaynst the chaunces of death, made by Erasmus of Roter, ■ Anno 1553. Colophon. Imprinted at London in Flete stretCy in the house of Thomas Berthelef. Cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum. Small Svo. 30 leaves.
The title is in a square figured architective compart- ment, and appears the same as was used for a sermon of the Bishop of Worcester in i537> as described by Herbert, p. 429. At the back
" Tho. Berthelet.
" Into this worlde naked we entered ;
And so we must agajme out of it fare ; Death by no man can be resisted}
There is no lyues thing it will £pare;
Than
^S7
Than wherfore shulde we for It care?
It auailcth notj but passe on foorthe The harde strokes (chance thai vnware)
And paciently take them in woorthe. For thei that take death vnpaciently,
Seme to the worlde to set their mynde. Blessed be thei that in our Lorde die.
For thei be sure the very life to fynde."
The above lines are the only prefixture to this ad- dress of Erasmus to a father on the death of his son, which form but slight grounds for conjecture that the printer and poet was also the translator. Subjoined is a short specimen.
" Go to nowe a littell while, and laie together the foul enormities, the painful labours, and the perils and dangers of this life (if it maie be called a life.) And on the other side reken and cast what commoditees and pleasures (of that other life) are all redie prepared for the godlie creatures that be plucked hence away : and than ye shall soone perceiuc, that no man can do vnrightouslie than he, the whiche laraentablie be- waileth that high goodnes, vnto the whiche only we be both borne and ordeined, euen as thoughe it were a right great and greuous harme. Ye crie out, because ye be lefte comfortles alone without children, whan ye haue begotte a sonne to inhabite heuen ; the holy re- membrance of whom (as it were of a diuine thinge) ye maie reuerence, the whiche aboue in heue~ beyng care- full for you, male greatly further the prosperous suc- ccsseofyour busines here. For he is nother ignora~t of mortal folkes busines, nor hath not forgone with the bodie the lowly reuerence and tender loue, whiche he was wonte to beare to you his father. No doubt h^ VOL. VIII. Sf liueth.
258
Hueth, beleue me he liueth, and perauenture is pre- sent with vs, and hcreth, and perceiueth this our com- municacion, and both laugheth at and damneih this our lamcntacion. And if the grossenes of our bodies letted not, perchance we shulde here him blaming vs for our wepyng with these mancr of wordes. What do ye ? Will ye abridge your daieSj and finishe your olde age with this vnprofitable, yea T maie well saie piuisshe lamentacion? Wherfore do you w iih so iniuste complaintes accuse and blame destenie, fortune and deathe ? Haue you enuie at me, because I am deliuered from the iuels of that life, and am brought to this fe- licitee that I am in? But be it, that your fatherly goodnes and pure amitie doihe not enuie me ; yet what other thing meaneth this sorowfull complaining? Thynke you this worthie to be lamented, that I am de- ducte and brought from thraldome to libertee, from peine and care to pleasure and felicitee, from darkenes vnto light, from perile and danger vnto sure saftie, from death vnto life, from sickenesses and disseases vnto immortalitee, from so many iuels to so high good- nes, from thynges caduke and transitorie to the euer- lastyng, fro thynges erthly to celestial!, and, finally, from the corrupte and vnclene companie of all people to the felowship of angels." —
Conduit street. J.H.
Art. IX. [This is a translation of the Epicureug of Erasmus. It is not mentioned by Ames or Herbert. Note by Dr. Farmer. Title wanting. Colophon.] Imprinted at London within the precinct of the
. late
^39
late dissotiied hoilse of the gray friers, hy Richarde Grafton, Printer too the Princes Grace, the XXIX dale of luly, the yere of our Lorde MDXLK * 8fo. 47 leaves.
Inscribed with an epistle that '^ the habovndaunt niercie and grace of our heauenly father lesu Christ maye alwaies strengthen and defende oure noble 8c ver- tuous Prynce Edward too the maintenaunce of the huely woord of God. Whereas manye histories of olde & auncient antiquitie, and also al godly & Christia'* writers most playnely consent together, and agree in this, that dignltie, riches, kinred, wordly pompe, and renoume, doo neither make men better, ne yet happiar, contrarie too the blynde & fonde iudgement of the most part of menne : but by the power and strength of the mynde, that is, learnyng, wysedome, and vertue, all menne are hyghly enriched, ornated, and most purely beutified, for these bee thinges bothe notable, cternall, and verye familiar betwene the heauenly father 8c vs. It is therefore euidente, most excellent Prince, that the fittest orname~tes for your Grace's tender agee bee, eruditio~ and vertue. Whereunto you are bothe so earnestly addicte and therin so wo~der- fully doo preuailc, that I nede not too exhorte & ex- stimulate your Grace vnto the study thereof. For that God him self hath wrought, and fourmed your mynde so apt and desirous too attayne and diligently too seeke for al godly doctrine, that eue now you doo shewe in
• The page following the colophon, has the feathers and crown bctw sea two ca{iitals E. P. with motto beneath on a ribband, Ich dien, the whole in a circle, centre of a white star, irradiated on a black square ground ; and Craftqn'i improved lebus on the next leaf.
S 2 all
56o
all youre saiynges and dooinges suche a wonderful! pleasau'tes much lyke vnto a cerlayne swete musike or harmonic, that any honest hart exceadinglye would re- ioyce in the sight therof. Verely, your Grace thinketh plainly all time lost, that is not bestowed vpon learn- yng, which is a verie rare ihyng in anye childe, and rarest of all in a Prince. Thus youre noblenes rather desireth vertue and learning, the most surest and excel- lent treasures, which farre surmounte all worldly ryches, then anye vanities or trifles. Nowe youre Grace prepareth for the holsome and pleasaunt foodc of the mynde. Nowe you seke for that whiche you shal fynd most surest helper and faythfulst councellour in all your affaires. Now your magnifice~t mynde studied that, whiche all Englyshe menne with raeke and humile heartes shuld desire God to endue your Grace with all. Now with diligent labour you searche for a thyng as one most myndeful of this saiyng, happy is that realme that hath a lerned Prince. Nowe you trauaile for that, whiche conquereth, and kepeth doune all greuous tourmentes & outragious affections of the mynde, too the furdcraunce of good liuyng and maintenau^ce of vertue, I meane holsome erudition and learnyng." [This address extends to nineteen pages, and concludes] " I thought it good too translate this dialoge, called the Epicure, for your Grace : whiche «eemcd too me too bee very familiar, & one of y*. god- liest dialoges y*. any ma~ hath writte~ in y=. Latin long. No.v therfore I most humili praie, y*. this my rude & simple traslation may bee acceptable vnto your Grace, trustyng also y^ your most approued gentilnes wil take it in good part. There as I doo not folow y*. Latyn^ woord for wcord> for I omylte y*. of a certaine
set
26l
9€t purpojE. Your huipile seruant, Philyppe Ger- RARD, groume of your Grace's chambre."
The translation is in dialogue, the interlocutors He- donivs and Spvdevs. Another piece, by the same tran- slator, is only known from t)ie brief notice in lylauu- jell's catalogue.
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. X. Letters of advice touching the choice of Knights and Burgesses for the Parliament ; and directed to all those Counties, Cities and Boroughs of this Kingdome, to luhom the choice of such Knights and Burgesses do appertaine: that for prevention of the publike mine now threatened, they may be more carefull to make good elections now and hereafter, then they have been heretofore. Thereto are annexed certain reasons for new elec- tions, with brief e answers to some objections ; and short notes touching the manner of choosing Knighls and Burgesses, according to the ancient and legall custome. London: Printed in the yeere Mf)CXLK
/^tO. pp. %2.
This is a very scarce tract from the pen of that old^ honest, and voluminous satirist, but certainly unequal writer, George Wither. It contains mpch of the flowing lip-wisdom universally displayed by the vox populi, upon a dissolution of parliament, when the vote of the individual should be ceded with the caution of transferring a birth-right. To these letters are given " the superscription, to the honourable cities ftnd counties of London, Westminster, Surry, and S 3 Southampton,
i6z
Southampton, (to whom I am especially obliged) and to all other the honourable and worshipful! counties and corporations throughout thekingdome of England, and dominion of Wales, to whom the choice, &c." and, after taking a bnef view of mischiefs arising from the choice of persons, who proved apostates and trai- tors, he proceeds to sketch an outline of some candi- dates which it could not be difficult to parallel at the present period.
" The only means to be delivered from such mis- chiefs, is, by humbly supplicating the divine mercy; by truly repenting our sins ; and by taking more heed hereafter (then we have done heretofore) that we be not traitors to our selves, in foolishly giving up the disposure of our estates, lives, liberties and consciences to them who will sell us for old shoes?, and serve us, onely to serve their owne turnes, to our destruction. Therefore, I beseech you to be warie, whom you shall now, or hereafter, elect; and make us not irrecoverably unhappy, by listening to the insinuations of unworthy persons who will importune you by themselves, or others, to put our bodies and soules into their hands; complying with all shewes of curtesie and humility, till their purposes are obtained; and never afterward regard your persons, your cause, your miseries, or your petitions : but, over-look you with such pride and des- pight, as if they had neither received their power from you, nor for your welfare; but meerly to exalt their own vanitie; or, as if every one of them had in his single capacitie, conferred on him by his election, such a measure of all virtues and sciences ; and re- ceived such an extraction out of the body represented, that iione of his electors had left in himself, either
yvisdome.
wisdome, honestie, or pietie, in comparison of his ; though but the day before his election, all the good you heard or knew of him, amounted perhaps to no more, but that he was a good huntsman, a good faulk- ner, a good gamester, or a good-fellow, who, having a good estate in his countrey, where he was chosen, a good opinion of himselfc, and a good mind to be a law- maker, was elected by his neighbours, who had rather adventure the undoing of themselves, their posteritie, and the whole kingdome, then hazzard his frowne, or the lordes and ladies displeasure who solliclted for him. Which follie that you may now shun, both for the re- medie of present evils, and for the better establishing our just priviledges, with the common safetic; let your care be to avoid the choice of such as these.
1. Men over lavish in speaking, or in taking extra- ordinarie pleasure to hear themselves talk; for, a man full of words is neither good to give, or keep counsell.
2. Notorious gamesters; for, though I have known some of them wittie, 1 never found a prudent or just man among them. For, how can he be just whose daylie practice is to cheat others of their estates? Or, how can they have prudence becoming disposers of the publike treasure, who are so foolish, as needlessely to expose their certaine estates to the uncertain hazzards of chance ?
3. Men extremely addicted to hunting or hawking: for, most of these, so they preserve and increase their game and inlarge priviledges for their owne pleasure, much care not though it were to the depopulation and impoverishing of whole countries, and to the multi- plying of those wild beasts, which are one of the curses ihrcatned for sinne.
s 4 4- ^^^^
4. The hnushold servants, or, such as are the olUged dependents on peers of the realme except they be of known and approved integritie. For, though some lords have honourably persisted faithful! to the re-pub- like, both now and in all times of triallj yet, the greatest part prefer their will and pleasure before the just liberties and priviledgcs of the Commons; yea, somtimes before the safety of the whole kingdome and the purity of God's worship: and such noblemen wil upon all advantages, expect from their creatures, the promotion of their own designes and interests, how re- pugnant soever to the generall good.
5. Courtiers depending merely on the King's or Queen' s favour ) for, the inlargement and continuance of their fortunes depend on the prerogative; and, the more that may be improved to the depression of the subject, the richer and the greater these grow."
These admonitory inhibitions are continued against ambitious, covetous, wanton, proud, vicious, and irre- ligious characters; and succeeded by pourtraying the proper nomination, " to wit, men whom you know, or believe (by their testimony, whose fidelitie you sus- pect not) to bee of upright conversations, unreprovablc, (as far as humane frailtie will permit) prudent, stout, impartial!, sober, well-experienced, lovers of their countrey, grave, meek, humble, religious, and rather eminent for their virtues and abilities, then for their wealth, birth, or titles : and yet not so poore or meane as to make their persons liable to contempt, or in danger to bee exposed to a temptation through ex- treame necessities." For preventing or abolishing the evil customs and disorders of elections are three propo- sitions, wherein the determination by lot, with refe- rence
26s
rence to the scriptures, Is discussed. At the end is a long postscript touching the duty after choice, ii\ which the elector upon discovering the knight or bur- gess to be unfaithful of the trust reposed in him in various instances, as " complying or plotting with ma- lignants as in the conspiracies and apostacics of Waller, Hotham, and such like;" information should be im- mediately exhibited in order to proceed to re-election according to need. Thirty lines of poetry form a con- clusion; the last six as follows:
*' But, when my houre is come, I will be bold To speak, what I am prompted to unfold. For, therefore was I borne; yea, therefore, yet I live, to tell men that which they forget. And, though but few regard what now I say, Some do, and most men will, another day.
Your true-speaking, and faithful! servant, and Remembrancer,
Geo. Withek.
Printed ly R. A. 1644."
Two sheets of this pamphlet appear to have beeu distributed according to the last date, and in the fol- lowing year another sheet was added containing the above title, and three leaves appended at the end with " reasons for new elections, and some objections an- swered ;'* and " of the manner of choosing knights and burgesses."
Conduit street, J. H.
Art.
:i66
Art. XI. Camden's Gifts of Arms. Extracted from Morgan's Sphere of Gentry.
[continued from p. 149.]
Bucks. 340. Dr. Alexander Shepheavd of Bucking ■ ham, Feb. 1615. G. 3 pole-axes in fess O. chief Erm.
London. 241. James Breesly son of Rd. of Marland, Co. Lane, son of James, Mar. 19, 1615. A. cross potent G. a lis in dexter point G.
Kent. 243. C/iar/e* jTnpjO of the Temple. G chevron O. int. 3 horse heads erased O, bridled S.
London. 243. William Angel. Confirm. O. 4 fusils in fess B. over all, a bendlct G. Crest. On a mount V. a swan A. legs 8c bill G. col- lared with a crown O. 344. PiersoUf April 1616. Per fess battelee B. 8c G. 3 suns O.
245. Kitchinman. April 1616. A. on pile S. 3
lozenges A. int. 2 crosslets fitchy G.
246. Dolhins. Confirm. May 1616. G. 5 mullets
with 6 points O. 2, i, 2, intr. 3 flanches cheeky A. 8c G.
Ebor. 247. Christopher Shute pf Giggles\yick in Cra- ven. Confirm. April 1616. Per chevr. S. 8c O. 2 eagles in chief O. crescent A.
Devon. 248. Robert Wakeman de Beer-Ferrers, D.D. May 1616. A. on plain cross S. a crown B. within the sun O.
Kent. 249. Thomas Paramour of Canterbury, some- time Mayor there. May 161 5. B. a fess counter-battelee O. intr. 3 etoils O.
Devon.
26;
Devon. 250. Wiihie of Wotton ; Per pale Erm 8c O.
a lion saliant G. out of a crown Q, a Calvary
crescent, s wings A. 1612. 251. Haward. Confirm. 1616. A. 2 bends G. a
border G. Kent. 252. Matthew Me?ines* of the Temple, son of
Andrew, son of Matthew Mennes of Kent,
July 161 6. G. chevron Vaire O. & B. intr.
3 leopards' faces O. London. 253. John Hidl, anciently of Northampt. July 1616. S. a chevron Erni. entr. 3 talbota'
heads erased A. Southampt. 254. Bathurst of the Isle of Wight.
Confirm. 1616. July. S. 2 bars Erm. 3
crosses formy in chief O. London. 255. Nicholas Leatt of London, son of
Nichs. Leatt of Horstey in Co. Derb. Dec.
13, 16 16. A. on fess G. a lion pass O. intr.
3 fireballs proper. Midd. 256. John Millet o? Hdiyes Court, son ofRichd.
son of John Millet, Dec. 16 16. A fess G.
entr. 3 (dragons' heads erased V. Lincoln. 257. Oldfield of Spalding, Nov. 16 16. O.
on pile V. 3 garbs O. 358. Bedwell. Per saltier lozengy, O 8c G. in the
first; in the second, Erm. 259. Hales. Confirm. Feb. 1616. S. on fess O. a
cinquefoil G. betw. 2 chevrons A. a border
Erm. •
Warwick. 260. Thomas Wagstaff of Warwick, de- scended from the ancient family of Wag- staff, Co. Chest. Confirm. 1616. A. 2 bends
* Father of Sir John Mennis the poet.
cngrafle4
26h
engrailed S. that in base humelin the dexter end, an escallop in the sinister point S.
Suffulk. 261. Thomas Bolton of Woodbridge, de- scended of Bolton, Co. Lane. a6 Aug. 1615. S. a falcon A. Bells O. quartering G. 3 wolves' heads erased O. a trefoil be- tween. 262. Miles Smith f Bishop of Gloucester O. a chevron intr. 2 chevronels S. bctw. 3 roses G. leaves & stalks V.
X<ODdoa. 263. James De Best o^ London Scde Flanders, July 9, 16 1 7. A. on fess B. 3 lis O. entr. 3 dragon's heads erased G.
Leicester. 264. Hartop, Confirm. S. chevr. intr. 3 otters pass. A.
Warwick. 265. MurdeUf of Morden Marel, Confirm. 1618. Erm. on chief S. a Talbot pass. A.
266. Sir JVilliam Russell, Treasurer of the Navy,
Confirm. 1618. A. on fess. dauncy S. 8 bezants ; in chief 3 martlets G.
267. John Trekeron, Porter to Q. Eliz. & K.
James. A. chevr. int. 3 herons S. on canton B. 3 bars O. over all, a lipn ramp. Q.
Kent. 268. Thomas Hixon dp Greenwich, Keeper of his Majesty's Standing Wardrobe, 1657. O. 2 raven's legs erased in saltier: S. 269. Hellorn, alias Richardson, Groom pf the Privy Chamber, 1608. G. on a chevr. A z lions counter paseant, and a cinquefoil be- tween G.
London. 270. Peter Duke of London, son of Peter Duke of London, son of Peter of France,
Confirm »
z6g
Corifirm. i62c. Per ch'evr. A. & B. 3 chap- lets counterchanged.
Kent. 271. Robert Heath of Brasted, in Kent, Re- corder of London, son of Robert Heath of Eatonbridge, son of Robert Heath of Limps - field in Surry. Confirm. A cross engrailed G- between 12 billets G.
London. 272. JVilliam Prestlei/, Feb. 1619. G. on chevron A. 3 anchors with double points S. betw. 3 castles A. 00 each castle a demy lion issuing O.
273. Robert Tonson Bishop of Salisbury, G. 5
crosslets fitchy in Saltier O. betw. 4 escal- lops O.
274. Harrington, Nov. 20, 1597. S, a fret A. on
a label G. 3 bezants on each point. London. 275. Marmaduke Rawdon, descended out
of Yorkshire. Sept 24, 1618. A. on fess G.
a lion pass. O. in chief 2 pheons. 2715. Sir Thomas Clerk de Plumsted. 27 April
1621. Barry of 4, Vert & G. 3 plates. London. 277. JVilliajn Swayne, July 10, 1612. B. a
chevr. G. intr. 3 pheons O. on a chief G,
3 maidenheads proper. Essex. 278. Erasmus de la Fountain of Belchamp
St. Paul. Feb. 2?, 1619. G. bend A. a
sixfoil in sinister quarter A. Lincoln. 279. Dan. Ligen de Harlackston, son of
Anthony, son of John of Valencieu in He-
nault, Jan. 20, 1619. O. a chief cheeky A.
& B. over all a bend G London. 280. Robert Ducy, Alderman, 1622. O. a
fess Vaire A. & B. entr. 3 cinquefoils G.
London.
iLondon. aSi. Nbrris, 1623. A. cross formee 8c fleurie,
intr. 12 billets S. 282. Sir Thomas Gourney of London, Kt. Sheriff
of London, 1623. A. cross engraved G.
cinquefoil in dexter quarter B. Surry. 283. Fraricis Go/ton de Stockwell^ Miles.
Quarterly B, & Erm. in first & last quarter,
an unicorn's head erased A. collared with
a crown O. mane 8c horn O. London. 284. fVm. Rainey. G. pair of wings Erm.
285. Sir 'Thos. Moulson, G. chevron A. fretty S.
betw. 3 mullets O.
286. Sir William Glover, Sheriff, 1602. S. a
chevr. Erm. intr. 3 crescents A. border O.
287. Richard Plait Brewer A. fretty S. on each
fret a plate.
288. John Readey 1599. G. a chevron O. betw. 3 lis
in chief O. 8c one in base A.
289. Bowden. Confirm. Quarterly S. 8c O. in first
quarter a lion pass. A. Sussex. 290. John Goodwin de East Grinsted, May
24, 160^. A. on bend ragul^ G. a lion
pass. A. Devon. 291. Sir Thomas Rugeway, S. a pair of
wings A. London. 292. Roger Oldfield, 1608. O- on pile en- grailed B. 3 garbs A. the bands G. Devon. 293. Duck de Havitree. O. on fess wavy 3
lozenges of the first. 294. John Coruh de London, July 1603. G. 2 bars
O. intr. 6 lozenges A. 3, 2, i. Suffolk. 295. Francis Pinner de Bury St, Edmund,
May
271
May 2, 1612. G. on 2 bars O. 4 leopirds'
faces S. 3 & 2. Oxford. 296. Francis Power dc Blechlngton, June 8,
160 J. A. 2 bars nebulee S. over all a bend
O. Surry. 297. Thomas Holhs de Gray's Inn. Nov. 12,
1603. A. bend wavy betw. 2 falcons proper,
bells O. 298. JVm. Dawes, 2d son of Robert Dawes of
Longstrettin, Norfolk, Feb, 28, i6n. A,
on bend wavy B. 3 swans A.
[ To he continued.']
Art. XIT. The Speeches and Judgment of the Rt. Hon. the Lords of Council and Session in Scotland, upon the important Cause, his Grace George-James Duke of Hamilton a?td others, Pursuers ; against Archil aid Douglas, Esq. Defender. Accurately taken down and published ly William Anderson, Writer in Edinlurgh. Edinlurgh : Printed ly Balfour, Auld, and Smellie, for J. Balfour, Edin- burgh ; T. Backet and P. A, Du Hondt, London. i']b^. 2vo. pp. 620.
The Lord President, [Robert Dundas] spoke first, in the following manner.
" Mr Lords,
" In delivering my opinion on this great and im- portant cause, it was my resolution to have spoken last, and not until I had heard the opinions severally given by your Lordships. This was my resolution so
long
57^
long a& we sat fourteen in number, and so long as there was a certainty, that the question could not fall to be determined by my casting vote. But> as we now sit fifteen in number, and that there is a possibility that my casting vote may be called for, I judge it my duty to speak first, to state my opinion and the grounds of it, not doubting but that, if it is erroneous, some of your Lordships who are to speak after me will correct xne.
** And, in giving this my opinion, I shall state only such arguments as move me, and scarcely at all touch those which tend to supjwrt a contrary opinion ; at least, until I first hear what opinions are formed by your Lordships; for to these at present I am an entire stranger.
" If I shall omit any thing, I shall hope for your Lordships' indulgence to have leave to add it in the way of reply.
** I agree then with the principle laid down in the defender's memorial, p. 38, ' That the acknowledg- ment of parents is not of itstU prolatio probata; but that a proof of such acknowledgment, or even of habit and repute, is good presumptive evidence, and suf- ficient for a jury to serve.' This principle is true; and it is also true, that a jury might have served, nay, ought to serve, upon such evidence. But then it is equally true, that when such service Is brought before this court by reduction, the verdict becomes no more than a legal presumption, and may be re-argued by a contrary proof: — The question of fact remains to be reviewed by your Lordships, as in place of a grand jury, and to be tried by the rules of evidence.
" Evidence is either direct, or moral, or circumstan- tiate.
The
■ *^ The first leaves no room for doubt in the breast of the judge or jury. It is sometimes compared to mathematical dtmonstration. — Such evidence is not in this cause. The second equally compels the mind, from conviction to assent; but it depends on a chain of circumstances laid together, and always introduces proofs on both sides. In such cases the judge must weigh every circumstance in the scale of justice, and give his opinion where he thinks the evidence pre* ponderates.
" It is not fair to say, that a possibility of being deceived ought to destroy a conclusion drawn from circumstantiate evidence : from the frailty of human nature, perhaps a possibility of deception attends every kind of evidence. In matters of the highest moment, even in religion, we must be satisfied with moral evir dence, and are bound to form our opinions upon it. In direct evidence, two witnesses may swear falsely : alibi may be proved. Circumstantiate or moral evi- dence is often stronger because it hangs on many de- pendent circumstances, which mutually aid and sup- port each other. Instances of this occur every dav.
'^ As to the application of certain general maxinis quoted both by pursuer and defender, concerning the onus prohandi^ I do not agree with either party. There is, in this cause, a single fact to be determined, is the defender the son of Lady Jane Doiigla? ? This fact does not now rest on the simple acknowledgment of -parents, or on habit and repute; — ^would to God it ■had; but the acknowledgment of the surviving parent -is qualified by time, place, the presence of other people fit the birth, and many other circurnstances.
" The pursuer offers circuaistantiajc evidence t^ ; VOL. VIII. T disprove
«^4
idisprove this fact; the defender has brought evidetice to support it. The proof lies before your Lordships. It then rcmaihs for me, as for others, to weigh this evidence; and, with my hand upon my heart, and as I shall answer to the Supreme Judge of the world, to say whether I can or cannot assent to the following propositions, viz.
" That upon the loth day of July 1748, Lady Jane Douglas, in the house of Madame le Brune at Pari?, was delivered of this defender, and of another son now dead, by the assistance of Pier laMarr, aman- midwife : that Sir John Stewart became acquainted with this La Marr, in the year 1721, at Leige; was introduced to him by Colonel Fountaine; met him accidentally at Paris in the year 1748, where La Marr had come sur une affaire ipineusei thought he would get him cheaper than any other; therefore employed him to deliver Lady Jane : that La Marr at first declined to tell Sir John Stewart where he lodged; but afterwards gave him his address (as corrected by Sir John, in his deposition August g, 1763) : that La Marr actually delivered Lady Jane : that the persons present at the delivery were Madame le Brune, her daughter. La Marr, Mrs. Hcwlt, and Sir John : that the youngest child of whom Lady Jane was delivered was sent to be nursed at a village near Paris under La Marr's care: that La Marr corresponded with Sir John and Lady Jane concerning this child : that the letters of L* Marr, produced by Sir John, are part of that corre- •pondence: and, in fine, that the facts contained in Sir John Stewart's declaration, as to these things, are true, under the correction already mentioned as to L* Marr's address ; for, it must be observed, that to his
dying
^75
dying hour^ Sir John Stewart never made any other correction of his declaration whatsoever.
*' In examining the evidence of any averment, built upon one's own proper fact and deed, the simpHcity of the story told deserves attention; for truth is simple, and has no need of disguise. A story, to gain credit, ought to be, first, probable; secondly, attended with no inconsistencies; thirdly, without covering or con- cealment; fourthly, there ought to be no attempt, by false or indirect means, to support it ; fifthly, it ought to be uniformly told, and maintained, not by the words only, but by the actions of those concerned. When these concur, the story deserves great regard, and there are strong presumptions for the truth of it. !Sut, when these are reversed, when a story told is improbable, in- consistent, full of mystery, supported by false means, not uniformly told nor uniformly maintained; these are legal presumptions against the truth of it, and de- stroy, at least weaken, the prasumptio hominis which should support it. In such a case, the attention will be roused to weigh the evidence of the story in the nicest balance, and not to trust to general averments, or general presumptions, for the truth of it.
** In applying these maxims to the cause before me, I cannot hesitate to refuse my assent to the truth of the proposition already mentioned; and am sorry to say, that I think the reasons of reduction are well sup- ported. And as many of my objections to the truth of that proposition arise from the general complexion of the cause, and the res gesta, which cannot ly?, I shall begin with them: For, as to the parole-evidence, where each party charges perjury against the witnesses X 2 of
57^
of the other, wh^rt I come to that, I shall not insist for full credit to all ih: witnesses upon either side.
" I observe, therefore, in the first place, that the de- ftrider's story is improbable.
*' That a lady of Lady Jane's age, so near to the fji^riod of her delivery, and in her first child, should leave Aix-la Chapelle, travel to Leige, thence to Sedan, from thence to Rheims, and from Rheims to Paris, without absolute necessity, is to me extremely im- probable: that, in this journey, she should linger eight days at Sedan, and near four weeks at Rheims, when Tier resolution was to go on to Paris, and her delivery fast approaching, is still more so j and that she should drop her maids at Rheims, at the time when she stood most in need of them, and when they could have been Carried to Paris at the expence of a few livres, is not to be believed.
** It is to me equally improbable, that Lady Jane should have concealed her being with child so care- fully, as it is said she did. Was not her being with child the accomplishment and crown of all her wishes, the very end and motive which had led her to give her hand to Colonel Stewart ? Why then conceal it? She bad wrote to the Duke of Douglas in April 1748, ac- <juainting him of her marriage, and of the happy con- sequences which might be expected from it. Afler. Ihis, why conceal her situation from any body ? And, yet, among all her correspondence, she does not ac- quaint one of them that she was with child, even when she is going to Paris in order to be delivered.
''Although she had dropt her maids at Rheims, yet, at Paris, she hires no servants, nor any attendants
whatever.
^17
whatever. Though carried thither in order to have the best assistance which France could afford, she is put into the hands of an old surgeon to a Walloon regi- ment, or, as the defender himselt allows, mtothe hands of a person of no character. When she arrives at Paris, she stays four days in Godefroy's; during that time, she takes no advice as to her situation, not even from Madam Godefroy; leaves Godefroy's, and goes to a lodging, which, after the most painful search, cannot now be found, unless as the defender asserts, we should believe it to be the house of a. garde malade. From this she goes to another house, hired by Sir John Stewart; there one child appears in a very sin- gular manner; ihe other is sent away with Monsieur la Marre; and though a child weak and sicklv, and Lady Jane a lady remarkable for maternal affection, is not once seen by her for sixteen m.onths, that is, no^ till November 1749.
" At this period. Lady Jane, Sir John, and Mrs. Hewit return to Paris, in order to bring home this second child: they leave their carriage and driver with- out the town, and go off in a hackney coach to an un- known house. They send for La Marr, in order to get the child; La Marr makes his appearance; they set out to bring the child; Lady Jane, taken ill with a headach, is carried into another unknown house, where she remains with Mrs Hewit; mean time, Sir John goes and brings the child; and then they all set out in their return to Rheims.
" As the defender's story is, in these respects. Im- probable; so also, I observe, secondly, that, in other respects, it is inconsistent.
*f It is said, that Lady Jane intended to have been T 3 delivered
delivered at Rheims, but left it, as no proper assistance " for her delivery was to be got there. This information Mrs. Hewit swears she received from Madam Andrieux, who had got her death by being unskilfully delivered. But, in this fact, Mrs. Hewit is contradicted by the son, Mr. Andrieux; and that Sir John and Lady Jane had no such intention, appears clearly from Mr. Hep- burn's evidence, who depones, in a very pointed and precise manner, that, at Leige, Sir John told him he was to carry Lady Jane to Paris, in order to be de- livered there. If then their destination was for Paris, w« it not inconsistent, in the highest degree, to stay eight days at Sedan, and near four weeks at Rheims, that is, from ihe fiuh of June to the second of July; especially after, as they say, they were informed, that no proper assistance could be had at Rheims, and that they were reduced to their last guinea?
** Mrs. Hewit says, that this information concern- ing the want of proper assistance at Rheims, she re- ceived from Madame Andrieux. But, w-hat says Lady Jane in the account of this matter given by her to the late Countess of Stair, as deponed to by her daughter, the Honourable Mrs. Primrose, a witness above all ex- ception, and who depones with the greatest air of candour ? /The morning after I came to Rheims, says she, a lady of that place desired to see me. I sent answer, that I was fatigued with my journey, was still in bed, and couM see nobody.* The lady sent word, that it was a matter of consequence she had to tell me. Upon this she was admitted, she begged pardon for intruding, said it was a matter of conscience. She had heard I had come there with an intention of lying in; but she was bound to tell rae that there was no person " in
279
in that city capable of doltig the office of a midwife. 1 said, that I had sent away my coach, and that my finances were too low to proceed further. But the lady's arguments were so pathetic, that she persuaded me to take a post-chaise, in which Mrs. Hewil and I went to Paris.
'' And, upon Lady Stair's observing, that Paris never was without British people of credit, who ought to have been at her labour, considering her age, and the ene- mies siie had with her brother; and that her labour should have been in a royal manner, alluding probably to the story of the Empress Constantia (words so sensible, and so much in the character of Lady Stair, that I think I could almost swear to their identity',) Lady Jane answered, * that, says she, was not in my power, as I was not half an hour, or an hour and a half iti Paris, before I was delivered.'
" As to leaving the maids at Rheims, Mrs. Hewit says, they were left for want of money, and that Sir John and Lady Jane had only one guinea when they arrived at Paris : that they endeavoured to persuade their banker to advance a little money on the credit of Lady Jane's pension; but in vain. So they wrote to Monsieur Andrieux for a supply; and this supply ar- rived on the very day of Lady Jane's delivery. And in this Sir John Stewart agrees with her. But this fact turns now out clearly to be false. For the money sent by Monsieur Andrieux wa? nqt received by Sir John till the 26th of July. And this being the case, I would gladly know, how they satisfied fprmer scores at Godefroy's, Le Brun's, &c.
" Mrs. Hewit says, that she could not keep Lady
Jane in bed after the ninth day; she had wrote so to
T 4 the
a8o
file maids at the time : surely i«he could not then be mistaken. But, after Sir John Stewart's examination, she seems to have been startled; and therefore writes i. letter to the Reverend Mr. Harper, dated January 11, 1763, (but which she did not deliver till the i5lh of March thereafter), wherein she tells him, * that she was in a mistake in declaring that it was the tenth day after Lady Jane was delivered, that they left the house of Madame LcBrune; for it was the sixth day.' It would appear to me, that Mr. Harper had some sus- picions as to Mrs. Hewit's intention in writing him this letter, by his accuracy in marking on the back the precise day upon which he received it.
f* The accounts given of the nurses are also full of inconsistencies;- but I shall not enter upon them,
** I proceed to observe, in the third place, that in this whole affair, Lady Jane Douglas and Sir John Stewart affected mystery throughout. Their very marriage is concealed from many of their countrymen, whom they had occasion to see; and even, when the time of Lady Jane's delivery is at hand, when Sir John and she are setting out from Rheims to Paris for that purpose; when they are procuring recommendations from Monsieur Maillefer, a man of character, the Syndic at Rheims, to Monsieur Godefroy, who was to receive them at Paris; yet even, from this Monsieur Maillc-fer do they carefully conceal that Lady Jane was with child, or that she was going to Paris in order to be delivered. This appear^ from the letrer of recom- mendation wrote by Monsieur Maillefer to Monsieur Godefroy, and is confirmed by Monsieur Maillefer himself. He is not permitted to see Lady Jane ; to him she is s-tid ta be indisposed, while it the very time
she
28l
she receives visits from an Abb6 Hibert, and is dally walking about in his company. Nay, the letter of recommendation from Monsieur Maillcfer to Monsieur Godefroy proves more. It proves, that they used false pretences for uieir journey to Paris : ' Comme ii aura quelques emplettcs a faire a Paris, je lui ai dit cju'il pouvolt s' addresser a vous, comme etant fort connois- seur, et que vous ne suffrirez pas qu'on le trompat.' A strange way this of recommending a lady just going to be delivered.
" During their stay at Paris, they not only conceal their being there from their countrymen ; they even conceal it from Chevalier Johnston, their correspondent, their friend, and cousin to Mrs. Hewit. Did ever Sir John Stewart, in any other place, on any other occa- sion, or at any other period of his life, neglect or for- sake the company of his countrymen ? Was he not in use to herd with them, especially with such of them as were at this time to be met with at Paris? Was there no Scots coffee-house in Paris? Did Sir John never go- there? Why, or for what reason did he not? How is this conduct to be accounted for? But above all, when Sir John and Lady Jane were about to quit Paris, leav- ing a weak and sickly infant behind them, to be nursed at a village only three leagues distant from it; could any thing be more natural, than to have recommended this child to the care of Mr. Johnston, and to have entreated him to visit it as often as convenient ? Yet, no such thing is done ; not even, when after their tc- turn to Rheims, they acquaint Mr. Johnston of Lady Jane's delivery,
" Another strange concealment, while at Paris, was, dating their letters as from Rheims, which were truly
wrpto
wrote from Paris: that this was done deliherately, and with design to mislead, appears from the after corre- spondence with Mr. Haldane and Lady Mary Hamil- ton; a correspondence evidently tending to induce a belief, that Lady Jane and Sir John had gone no further than Rheims, and that Lady Jane had been delivered at that place; for, in the whole of that cor- respondence, there is not any mention made of Paris.
'* It is also strange, that notwithstanding the many dark and mysterious circumstances attending the ac- counts given of Lady Jane's delivery ; notwithstand- ing that Sir John and Lady Jane knew well that these accounts and these circumstances were suspected ; yet still, at no after period, did they ever give such a detail of particulars as could give satisfaction upon this great point, or, in the event of their death, could avail their children; but chose to rest the proof of their legitimacy «pon general presumptions, and that the onus pro- landi of the contrary lay upon their adversaries. But this I will rather carry forward to my next observation, yiz.
*' To the falsehoods by which the defender's cause has been supported, and by which the objections against it have been attempted to be obviated.
" And, first, the cause of Lady Jane Douglas and Sir John Stewart, their coming to Rheims, is not well supported: but, as I am not now talking of the proof, except in so far as it arises from real evidence, which cannot be contradicted, I observe,
'* Secondly, that the leaving the maids at Rheims, when they could have been carried on to Paris at the expense of twelve or fourteen shillings, is a striking circumstance which remains to be obviiited ; the want
of
of money, therefore, has been assigned as the cause of this. Lady Jane and Sir John are said to have been reduced to their last guinea, and when their banker at Paris would not advance, they applied to Monsieur Andrieux. In this particular Sir John and Mrs. Hewit's memories are so distinct, that they remember the very critical day when Monsieur Andrlenx's money arrived, viz. the day of Lady Jane's delivery; and so Mrs. Hewit wrote to the maids at the time: yet this, we have already seen is altogether false Put the falshood was absolutely necessary; for, at the time when this fact was averred, no mention had been made in this process of Godefroy or his house. It was believed, that Sir John and Lady Jane had, before the delivery, resided only in one house. By Mrs. Hewit's evidence, they went directly to La Brune's; yet this house behoved to be cleared off before leaving it : other expenses also about the time of delivery fell to be in- curred; and, for paying these, money was requisite: and it was requisite also, that this money should ar- rive in time, for that purpose.
** And, as it is false that they received the money sent by Monsieur Andrieux sooner than the 26th, so it is equally false that they were in want of money when they arrived at Rheims; for it is in evidence, that they carried with them from Aix-la-Chapelle, a letter of credit upon Paris for near 2000 livres, which they actually received upon the sixth of July, four days before Lady Jane's delivery ; and this letter of credit was so conceived as that they could have drawn the money at Rheims, if necessary.
" Thirdly, as it was given out, that they came to Paris on purpose to procure Lady Jane better assistance
in
584
her delivery, it was incumbent on Sir John to give gome account what assistance they did actually pro- cure, and who was the midwife who delivered Lady- Jane. '
*' And here it is to be observed, that Sir John was always distinct and pointed as to his description of La Marr; first, in his note to Mrs. Napier, and next in his judicial declaration, hi his note given to Mrs. Napier, as early as the year 1756, he stiles La Marr a Walloon, and says, that for several years he had been surgeon to a regiment: he likewise mentions the name of Colonel Fontaine, ocuhst to the invalides at Paris, and tells Mrs. Napier, that Fontaine was the person who introduced him to La Marr. These things he confirms in his judicial declaration, with the ad- dition of sundry other particulars ; and these things he never amended, nor, to his dying hour, ever retracted or contradicted.
*' And how wg^s Sir John's declaration taken? In the most solemn and deliberate manner. It took up three days : Sir John had full time given to recollect every particular of the story j be was allowed to correct, to retract, and to explain, upon an after day, what he had declared upon the day preceding ; and in one word, was treated with the greatest candour. He was indeed somewhat deaf; but, to obviate any inconvenience which might thence arise, the questions asked were given to him in writing, one by one, and he was al- lowed time maturely to consider them, before he gave his answers.
■ *' With respect to his account of La Marr, as given in this declaration, he never pretended to amend or contradict it, except as to his address, which in his
after
. , 285
after oath he swears La Marr gave him; although in his declaration he had said the contrary. The reasons of this correction are too obvious; and yet, after all the deliberation and solemnity with which this decla- ration was taken, after all the opportunities given to Sir John to retract, explain, amend, and correct it; after he had done so in one or two articles ; yet, after all this, the defender, who says he is the son of this Sir John Stewart, and values himself upon his acknow- ledgment, is pleased to maintain, that his father's de- claration, in many points, is false and untrue, and that no regard ought to be paid to it.
" Fourthly, the forged letters, said to have been written by La Marr to Sir John Stewart, mentioned in Sir John's declaration, at once shew the falshood of that declaration, and the shameful and illegal attempts made to support the defender's story, and to obviate objections against it. The forgery of these letters was committed early, and at a time when the Delamarre, whom the defender now says was the true accoucheur, was alive, and that fair and gtniiine letters to prove that fact could have been procured from him. Th-e last of the four letters mentioned in Sir John's decla- ration, as written to him by La Marr, appears to have been brought to Sir John in Lady Jane's presence, and to have been read and explained by her to Mrs. Glass, Sec.
" But upon these letters, perhaps, T may touch ao-ain, when I come to consider the evidence adduced by the defender,
'^ Fifthly, it was necessary for Sir John and Lady Jane to obviate the many strong and striking objec- tions to their conduct after the birth. Nothing could
have
286
bave been easier than to have done this, had their story- been true. Truth is simple, and generally carries con- viction along with it. At any rate, it is uniform; but the story told by Sir John Stewart was not so ; and therefore labours under suspicion: and this leads me to observe,
** In the fourth place, that the story told by Sir John Stewart of the defender's birih was by no means uniformly told, nor uniformly maintained. In the course of Providenccj a false tale is often detected by the tellers.
" As to Lady Jane's account of this event, we have none given by her, further than what passed in her conversation with Lady Stair, a conversation which, we have already observed, turns out to be false in every particular. But, with respect to Sir John, we have his declaration and his oath ; and as to these, they are, in some particulars, contradicted by Sir John himself, and in others are given up by the defender as untrue.
*' By Sir John's oath and declaration. Lady Jane's delivery is said to have happened in the house of Madame le Brune : but, in the note given by him to Mrs. Napier, it is said to have happened in the house of Madam Michell. Strange! that, in the year 1756, there should have been so great a failure in Sir John's memory. Indeed, Sir John's behaviour, when he gave this note to Mrs. Napier, is very remarkable, and de- serves attention : for, when pressed by Mrs. Napier to tell her in what house the children were born, and who were present and assistant on that occasion ? Sir John answers, that so many years had passed, and so many misfortunes had happened to him, some of which ■ . he
58;.
he enumerat^dj that he could not be so distinct in names as he could wish: that, for different reasons, Liady Jane had been obliged to change houses about the time of her lying inj one house was full of bugs; another house was smoky; so that he could not say what precise house the children were born in; but he ■Would consider of it at home, and make a note of these circumstances. And when still pressed by Mrs. Napier to make a memorandum of such things as lie was sure of, he accordingly gives her a memorandum; and ivter alia, sets down Madam Michelle's house as the place of delivery. This seems to me to be the oriijo mali; and here I begin to see the finger of Providence pointing to the discovery of the imposture. It is not sufficient to alledge here forgetfulness or mistake; it was too early to mistake in the 1756. It is true, that, in an after-conversation with Mrs, Napier, Sir John mentions Le Brune's as the house wliere Lady Jane was delivered. But as it is not clear that this second conversation happened, until he knew that inquiry had been made at Madam Michelle's, and that his former story was disproved, I can pay no regard to it. It is also very material to observe, that the scroll of the let- ter from Mrs. Hewlt to the Duke of Douglas, so acci- dentally found, mentions Madam Michelle's house as the place of delivery. Strange! that both Sir John and she should fall into the same mistake.
" But, how is it possible to account for the conduct of Lady Jane and Sir J'ihn Stewart, after they knew that the legitimacy of their children was suspected ? Easy would it have been at that time to have put the matter beyond all question. A letter by post would have done it. If that was not sufficient, a more foi mal
inquiry
. 288
inquiry might have been made; yet, in jplace of this, a few declarations only are got from Aix-la-Chapelle, and these merely relating to Lady Jane's pregnancy. No application is made for any proof from Paris, the principal scene of action, and which at once could have put the matter out of all doubt. Indeed, they after- wards saw the propriety, or rather the necessity, of clearing up this affair, and gave different reasons to justify their straiige conduct with regard to it ; but, in vain, none of them are satisfactory. At one time. Lady Jane doubts how far the making such an inq.uiry would be consistent with her honour. At another time, she laments the want of money to carry it on. To Mrs. Menzies she boasts, that she had evidence of the birth in ber pocket. And, at a late period of her life, in a conversation with Mrs. Greig, she shelters herself under a legal presumption; and tells Mrs. Greig, that if any body called her children's legiti- macy in question, they behoved to prove the contrary. Mrs. Hewit, indeed, talks more boldly upon this sub- ject : Walter Colvill, soon after the birth, had informed her of the suspicions concerning it; but she seems to despise these suspicions; and roundly tells him, that the birth was too well proved to admit of any doubt.
"All these circumstances of improbability, incon- sistency, concealment, falshood, and vacillancy, are extremely striking; and although I do not argue upon them as conclusive; yet surely they are more than suf- ficient to awaken the attention, to lead us to examine things with accuracy and precision; to demand proof, atld not to rest upon general presumptions.
" And this leads me to consider what proof has been brought by the defender in support of his averment.
" The
" The first material fact, upon the part of the de- fender, is to prove the existence of the accoucheur. Pier La Marr j for, if there was no La Marr, it is im- possible to believe one iota of the whole story.
** The history of La Marr, as told by Sir John SteVvart, and never contradicted, is, that he was a Wal- loon, and surgeon to a Walloon regiment, remarkable for his skill in midwifery : that, in the year 1721, Sir John became acquainted with him at Leige, and was introduced to him by Colonel Fontaine: that, when Sir John was at Paris by himself, in June 1748, he accidentally met with La Marr, and they renewed their acquaintance: that La Marr was there at that time sur line affaire epinense^ and was to be found at the ThuilHeres, or the Luxembourg, in certain particular walks which he named, and at certain times of the day : that Sir John, for the sake of cheapness, engaged this La Marr to deliver Lady Jane; which he did accord- ingly : that the youngest child of whom Lady Jane was so delivered, was entrusted to La Marr's care for sixteen months ; during which time he regularly cor- responded with Sir John upon that subject : and as to the letters from La Marr to Sir John produced in pro , cess. Sir John averred, that two of them were originals, and two of Ihem copies; in one of which letters La Marr says, that he had been ten months in Naples after the year 1748*
*' Thia account is altogether unsupported by any evidence ; and however circumstantiate it may be as to Sir John's first acquaintance with La Marr, his knowledge of his profession, manner of renewing ac- quaintance, writing to him, 8cc. it is impossible to believe, it. Failure in memory may excus« mistakes as
TOt. Yiii. u to
2go
to lesser matters, or trivial circumstances, but cannot palliate errors in capital points. Indeed, the defender himself does not believe it; he has therefore bent his whole force to prove, that not this La Marr, but another Delamarre was the accoucheur who delivered Lady Jane, although it stands proved, that this Dela- marre was no Walloon, but a native of Montreuil sur Mer, was only ten years old in the y<?ar 1721, had never been surgeon to a Walloon regiment, had his constant residence at Paris, and was never out of it after the year 1748. Further, there is no evidence that this Dela- marre was bespoke or could be bespoke as accoucheur for Lady Jane; and still less probability, that, when Lady Jane had travelled so far to procure the best as- sistance. Sir John would bespeak for her a low ope- rator at the Hotel Dieu.
** Indeed, according to the defender's own account, he seems to have taken no great care of his patient; for, if it was he who recommended Le Brune, and knew that Lady Jane was to remove from thence soon after her t^.elivery to another house, it is strange, what Mrs. ilewit says, that she never saw La Marr visiting Lady Jane but once after her delivery. If it was he who provided the bad nurses, strange that he should take no further nor better care to provide good ones. But what proves beyond contradiction, that this Dela- marre was not the accoucheur, and that the story of his delivering a great foreign lady does not, and cannot apply to Lady Jane, is the time when this is said to have happened. It happened, Says Menager, while Pelamarre was in the Hotel Dieu. It happened, says Gilles, before the year 1748. It happened, says Coc- querell, before February 1748; for, in that month I
was?
was married. I had left the Hotel Dieii about two months before my marriage j and La Marr had left it about a year before me.
" This article of the time appears to me very ma- terial, clinches the whole, and proves, that the story told by Delamarre at the Hotel Dieu could not relate to Lady Jane Douglas.
** But how did Sir John Stewart stumble upon the name of La Marr? How came he to pitch upon this name, as the name of the accoucheur who delivered Lady Jane? Perhaps Sir John was acquainted with this Delamarre, knew him as a merry companion, and pitched upon his name to help forward his story, but gave such a false description of the other particulars concerning him, as might be sufficient to prevent dis- coveries, and to obviate after inquiries. For, is it pos- sible for any mortal to believe, if this Delamarre had truly been the accoucheur who delivered Lady Jane, that Sir John Stewart would have forged the letters from him which are now produced, when, at that very time, Delamarre was alive, was residing at Paris, and, in course of post. Sir John might have had letters from him? Delamarre lived till the year 1753, and the let- ters produced were forged in the year 1752.
*' With respect to these letters, the defender's story of this Delamarre proves their falshood in a strong manner J and, if they are false, and false they are ad- mitted to be, even by the defender, what becomes of the superstructure they were intended to support? They are the chief, if not the only written evidence on the part of the defender. They appear to me to have been the proofs which Lady Jane boasted to Mrs. Menaien she had, in her pocket. They also seem to w A have
have been the documents which Lady Jane carried la Pouglas-castle, to convince the Duke of Douglas. They were mentioned by Sir John to Mrs. Napier; they were explained by Lady Jane to her servants j they were produced to the jury ; they were printed with the service; yet these are forged, and, in my opinion, forged by Sir John. Is it in nature to believe, that Sir John Stewart would have forged false letters from La Marr, if, at the expense of a postage from Paris, he could have had letters which were true ?
'' Before dismissing Sir John Stewart's declaration, permit me to observe the strange and unaccountable conduct of the defender with regard to it. He talks o-f his filiation, of the acknowledgment of his parents, of his habit and repute, &c. His father is examined, the person who best can tell the circumstances of his birth, whose inclination, whose interest, and whose duly it is to say every thing that can support it. The examination is gone about in the fairest, in the most solemn, in the most candid manner possible : but no sooner is it taken, than the defender rejects it, maintains it to be false, endeavours to have it suppressed, insists that it can bft no evidence, and when your Lordship's justice had ordered it to be considered as evidence, he ap- peals from that sentence to a higher court; though, for reasons best known to himself, he afterwards drops it. Did any of your Lordships ever read or hear of such a conduct ? I conftss I never did.
**The second material fact upon the part of the de- fender is to prove the existence of a Madame le Brun, in whose house Lady Jane was delivered ; for, if there was no Madame le Brun, it is impossible to believe one jot of the story. • - - "Here
^93
" Here again the ground slips from under my feel: there is not more evidence of the existence of a Madame Ic Brun than there is of a Pier la Marr. No such person can be found j even no such name, I mean of Madame le Brun who kept a hotel, occurs in the capi- tation-rolls of any kind.
" The defender is fain to suppose, that the Madame le Brun, in whose house Lady Jane was delivered, was a garde malade. This however is incredible : it was never once insinuated by Sir John or Mrs. Hewit, not even in the letter wrote by Mrs. Hewit to the maids, though a circumstance remarkable, and which, in these letters fell naturally to be mentioned.
" Sir John hints as if she had been recommended by Godefroy : this is false: the proof now points as if she had been recommended by La Marr. Had this been so, Sir John could not have forgot it: but it wasj not so : the res gesta belies it: even Menager himself never knew any lady of character carried to be delivered in such a house, one lady in a mask excepted.
" If La Marr had recommended Le Brun, how comes he not to have appeared sooner upon the stage, and to have been better known to Lady Jane and Mrs. Hewit ? Mrs. Hewit, who attended Lady Jane, swears, that previous to the delivery, she had no conversation with Lady Jane about the person who was to deliver her; nor did she ever see Pier la Marr until she saw him in Lady Jane's room at the lime of her delivery; nor did she see him after, except once, when he called to inquire after Lady Jane and the defender. At what time, therefore, did he recommend Madame le Brun r The thing is incredible.
" Jhe Le Brun living on her income ir* the house u 3 of
2P4
of Travers, rue de la Comedie, cannot be the person pointed at. The description does not apply, and the defender cannot be allowed to found on an allegation so vague, similar in nothing but the name, when he has brought no evidence to support it. An inlying was a circumstance too material to have escaped the observation of the people of the house ; neither would it have escaped the sagacity of the defender's advisers to have made an inquiry concerning this matter when the woman was alive: but it is plain to me that the defender has catched at the similarity of the name, and by that similarity means to supply a blank in the proof, which otherways he cannot account for.
*' A third material fact upon the part of the defen- der, is to prove the existence of Madame Michell, and that Sir John and Lady Jane lodged in her house.
*' And it is true, that Sir John and Lady Jane did lodge at Madame Michell's; and though the 8th of July is marked in the livre d' inspecteur as the day of their entry; yet, it appears to me, that they entered tipon the i8th; for Michell's people swear, that the marking of Fluratl and his company belongs to Sir John Stewart and his company; and that they were the only British people at that time in the house.
" There are several circumstances which happened at Madame Michell's which deserve to be mentioned.
*' And, first, there is no appearance of Pier la Marr at Madame Michell's. The people of that house do not seem to have known any thing about him.
** Secondly, the second child, Sholto, is never heard of at that house.
" Thirdly, the defender does not appear immediately on their ^oing there, nor till after the enlevement of Mignpn's child.
" Fourthly,
^9b
" Fourthly, the people in that house swear, that when the defender was brought, he was brought from " St. Germain, the very place where Sir John, in his declaration, says he went to seek for a nurse to him. Indeed, as to the nurses, the accounts given are full of contradictions. I will not run through them.
** The last material fact upon the part of the de- fender, and which ought to have been ascertained without the least shadow of ambiguity, is the day of Lady Jane's delivery; and this day the defender posi- tively says was the lothday of July 1748. One thing is evident, that if Mrs. Hewit spoke true, the day of delivery behoved to be at least nine days before their coming to Madame Michell's; for so writes she to the maids, that Lady Jane could not be kept in bed after the ninth day. This indeed may bring the day of de- livery to the 10th; and yet, how to reconcile this letter to the maids wiih her after letter to the Reverend Mr. Harper, I knov/ not.
*' But indeed as to this point, viz. that the day of de- livery was the loth day of July 1748, we meet with insuperable difficulties.
*' And, in the first place, in all the letters wrote by Sir John and Mrs. Hewit upon the loth of July, there is no mention made of Lady Jane's delivery. The de- fender is aware of the force of this objection j and there- fore insists, that although these letters bear date upon the icth, yet they were actually wrote upon some day preceding. But where is the evidence of this? The letters themselves bear to be wrote upon the loth, and must be supposed to have been so, unless the contrary is proved. But the contrary is not proved. If a lati- tude of this kind is to be allowed; if mere supposition u 4 is
7g6
is to be held sufficient to destroy evidence such as this, all possibility of detection would be at aii end.
*'But, secondly, there is a letter, from Mrs. Hewit to the maids, bearing date the zid qf July 1748, from which it appears, that she had \yrote , ihem a formjsir letter uppn the llth; ai>d yet that forqier letter had made no mention of Lady Jane's delivery : how is this to be accounted for? Mrs. Hewit herself saw the forcp of this objection; and therefore endeavours to obviate it, by saying, in her letter, already mentioned, of the 23d, that her former letter, though dated upon the nth, ought to have been dated upon the loth; and that this piistake "had happened through hurry. In the former case, the defender maintained, that, the letters dated upon the lotji ought to be dated upon the 9th, other- ways he seems to acknowledge they ought to have made mention of Lady Jane's delivery. Here again he in- sists, that a letter dated the nth ought to have been dated the joth. If so, why did not this letter make mention of Lady Jane's delivery ? How are thesp things to be reconciled ?
** In the third place. Sir John wrote to the Earl of Crawfurd upon the 10th of July; so the letter bears. In this letter also, there is no mention of Lady Jane's delivery; on the contrary. Sir John says, that the happy hour was looked for daily. How is ihis taken off? Sir John seems to have perceived it ; and therefore, in his next letter to Lord Crawfurd, upon the 22d of July, he silly insinuates and says, that his former letter was of the 6th, not only in direct contradiction to the date of the letter itself, but also to the date of the letter to Mr. Florentin, in which it was enclosed.
f^ In the fourth place. Sir John, in his letter to Mrs.
Hepburn
297 .
Hepburn of the 6ih of August, mentions his having wrote her upon the loih of July preceding ; and adds, that Ladv Jane had been brought to bed the eve- ning of that day; yet Mrs. Hewit swears^ and in her letter to the maids says, that Lady Jane was uneasy during the whole night preceding her delivery; that about eleven jn the forenoon, she turned extremely ill; and it is acknpvyledged by all of them, that she was net long in labour. So that, if she was delivered at all, she must have been delivered in the forenoon.
" In the fifth place, it cannot but appear extraordi- nary, that although Lady Jane is said to have been de- livered upon the loth; yet no letters were wrote noti- fying this event to any mortal, not even to her female friends or the maid-servants, sooner than the 32d. This appears to me extremely singular, and, I am per- suaded, must do so to every person who hears mc. !Lady Jane appears to have married Sir John Stewart with a view to bring an heir to the great estate and noble family of Douglas. Both S^r John and she were well advanced in life, and could not be supposed capable of having many children. Lady Jane, in a foreign country, and far from her friends, was safely delivered of two boys: was it not natural then for Sir John and her to hasten to convey the news of this happy event to their friends? Is it possible to believe' that Mrs. Hewit would not do it to the maid-servants > and yet, no such intimation is given. This is evident, not only because no such letters are prod-uced, but that it appears from Lady Jane's pocket-book, that no let- ters were wrote betwixt the loth and zid.
" And thus, with respect to the day of Lady Jane's delivery, every thing is doubtful and darkj every thing
is
::98
iS mysterious and affected. Some particulars are given tip as untrue, under the softer name of mistakes ; others are unpatural and unsupported.
** But out tiling still remains. What says the pur- suer to the day of delivery? What evidence has he brought ? O^ has he brought any, to shew, that the lOthday of July 1748 neither was nor could be the day of Lady Jane's delivery ? Yes, the pursuer has brought evidence upon this point, and evidence which appears to me to prove, much more clearly than could have been expected, that the whole story of Lady Jane's de- livery in the house of Madame le Brun upon the loth of July 1748 is fictitious and false; for that, at that period, Sir John, Lady Jane, and Mrs. Hewit resided in the hotel kept by Monsieur Godefroyj and that there was in that house, not only no delivery, but no appearance of any.
«' I will not take up the time of the court, in reca- pitulating the manner in which Moniieur Godefroy's books were kept. One thing is clear, that books were kept; and though T shall not call them per se full evi- dence; yet they are strong adminicles, as being made up long- ago, and without any view to support this cause. I will not enter into all the objections stated against them on the part of the defender. I think the presumptions are in favour of the books; and that I am bound to pay them great regard; especially when supported, as they are in the strongest manner, by the <lirect testimony of Godefroy and his wife.
" It is true, the name of the person and his com- pany, to whom the accompt of the 4th of July belongs, was entered blank in the book, and continues so; yet k so rivetted by circumstances, as to add faith to the
oatl\;;
299
oaths of Godefroy and his wife, who swear that it was opened for Sir John Stewart; and the way how it came to be opened blank is accounted for from Mon- sieur Maillefer's letter to Godefroy, in which he re- commends Sir John Stewart and his lady, but without telling him their names.
*' By this accompt, begun upon the 4th of July, the first payment made by Sir John Stewart to Monsieur Godefroy appears to have been made upon the 8th of July, a day or two after they got the money from Tas- sin ; which, by the bye, is an additional proof of the falshood of the story of their having first got money from Monsieur Andrieux.
** The number of persons for whom this accompt is stated tallies exactly with the number of Sir John's company; so does the article of the wine, and so does the day upon which it commences; for it is confessed on all hands, that Sir John, Lady Jane, and Mrs. Hewit entered into Godefroy's house upon the 4th of July. If then this accompt does not relate to Sir John Stewart and his company, where is the accompt which does? But Godefroy and his wife swear, that this ac- compt does relate to Sir John Stewart. Why, or for what reason should we not believe them ? I cannot jmppose them perjured. I see not the least evidence of it; on the contrary, Godefroy's swearing so candidly as he did, from memory, concerning the letter which he received from Monsieur Mallefer, in my apprehen- sion, says much in his favour.
*^ As to the two enlevements, though not by them- selves sufficient, yet T cannot get them out of my mind. Strange, singularly strange it is! that they should coincide so exactly with the events in question.
<'As
3©o
** As to the enlevement of Mignon's child, rt is clearly proved, that such enlevement happened in July 174HJ and though I do not think myself under any ncccssilv to maintain, that the defender is that child; yet it appears to nic a strong fact in the scale of evi- dence, that a child should be carried ofl" by a foreigner, under several circumstances corresponding to Sir John and his story, particularly as to the time; for, by tltc delay of the feast of St. Clair that year till the 22d of July, it appears to rac, that the date of the enlevement of Mignon's child must either have been the 1 1 lii or the 18th of July; and the last of the two seems most probable.
" The coincidence of the other enlevement of Saury's child is not less extraordinary. This happened in No- vember 1749; at this time Sir John, Lady Jane, and Mrs. Hewit were again in Paris: surely, if they had no concern in either of these enlevements, never were people more unlucky. There is no evidence that an enlevement at Paris is an ordinary event, or that it happens frequently. Strange, that Sir John and his company should have been there at times so suspicious and unfortunate! Saury's child is^'^roved to have been carried off by foreigners : these foreigners, three in number, having no attendants, the age of the child exactly agreeing with the supposed age of Sholto. These circumstances correspond to Sir John Stevi^art and his company; yet it is not the minutite of the story which move me. In a circumstantiate evidence, circumstances must be laid together. A separate link in the chain may bear a challenge; and yet the whole remain firm and impregnable.
" As to the way in which this cause has been con- ducted
301
ducted by the gentlemen on botli sides, I do not sec any reason for blame, either upon the one side or the other; though there had been such due, yet it would not have varied my judgment; but I sec none due. And as to the cry raised against the pursuer for having varied his ground, his doing so may shew spirit, as it does, but cannot influence the determination; in a labyrinth so dark and intricate, it was no wonder tliat the false lights hung out on the part of the defender should often mislead him.
*' The witnesses are said to be low people : they are
so; but they were not of the pursuer's chusing: they
were chosen by the defender's supposed parents : the
pursuer was obliged to follow them: he could examine
' no other.
" But what could move Lady Jane to commit so great a crime as is here supposed ? What could influ- ence her to play a part so criminal, and to continue it to the last ?
" That Lady Jane was anxious to have children ap- pears from her conversation with Mr. Hepburn ; and that this was her intention in marrying Sir John Stew- art, appears from her letter to the Duke of Douglas. What other motive on earth could she have for marry- ing him? When once she had put on the mask, she was under a necessity to wear it. She had said, that the defender and Sholto were her children. Common sense, of which she had a large share, led her to behave to them as such ; otherways her actions would have given the lie to her words ; and it is easy to see which of them would have been best believed. The death-bed declarations in this cause do not move me: when crimes are committed, the committers rarely chuse to
confess,
tK>nitsSf if by concealing they can escape that infamy which otherways would pursue them. Lady Jane could not but see that when the Rubicon was past, there was no retreating. Had she been tempted to have divulged a secret so important, the consequences would have been, infamy on her own memory, and capital punishment on her associates. That in Sir John's judicial declaration many things are false, can- not be denied. Between an oath and a declaration there is little difference; and yet Sir John, upon his death -bed, does not confess them j and though he makes a death-bed declaration, takes no notice of any of them.
*^ Lady Jane's pregnancy is the great argument in- sisted in on the part of the defender. I admit that it h a ground of doubt; but it can never outweigh my strong conviction arising from evidence so circumstan- tiate as that which I have already observed. One thing is strange, that Lady Jane's attendants swear to her pregnancy as so remarkable, that one would think nobody, with their eyes open but would perceive it. Mrs. Hewit particularly mentions the size of her breasts as well as belly j yet we see even women did not perceive it until it was told them. At Rheims, Abbe Hibert speaks of a pregnancy which could not be discovered, except when Lady Jane wanted a hoop. Lieutenant M'Lean saw it not; Querengal saw it not, until he Vi^as told of it; the company in the stage-coach saw it not.
**As to the miscarriages, I like them not; they are too numerous; and, upon the whole, I am for sustain- ing the reasons of reduction.'*
Art.
303
Art. XIII. Defence of Grotius.
TO THE EDITOR OF CENSURA IITBRARIA.
MR,
I am sorry to differ from P.M. in regard to Grotius, to whom I think he has not done justice; for as to his commentary on the Old Testament, it must surely be acceptable to readers to be informed what the real facts were literally, which are denoted by any sentences there, as well as what the secondary senses of them are, which either have, or may be considered as pro- phetic and typically descriptive of the Messiah or any circumstances relative to his advent: in truth, without knowing precisely what the types were themselves, we cannot well judge what things or acts can or cannot with propriety be typified by them. Grotius then ought rather to be commended than condemned for having been the first commentator who had attentively applied himself tb point out those literal senses; while all others before had confined themselves too much to the typical senses only, or the spiritual ones, as the French call them, which may be considered as descriptive of something relative to the Messiah.
The Jews themselves had committed the same fault bfefore, by dwelling too much in their commentaries on those senses of passages in the Bible, which they thought applicable to the Messiah, or which they rather distorted from their real meaning in order to force them to becotne types of the Messiah; their constant practice indeed was to ransack every corner of their scriptures for such forced senses, and to find as many of them in the pastoral of Solomon as in the
predictions
predictions of their prophets; a huge collection of which may be found in the defence of Christianity by Raymond Martyn, and are there urged by him as evidence, that the Jews themselves after Christ as well as before had interpreted these passages predictive of the Messiah in the same senses as they have been since applied by Christians to Jesus Christ: but they had entirely omitted the strict grammatical meaning of those passages, and what actions or objects the sacred authors themselves intended primarily to describe by their own words, according to the most critical and judicious senses, which the subject before them and the context might naturally lead a reader to con- jfeive.
In this the Jews were too readily followed by the first Christian commentators, and it was high time for Grotius to alter this mode of wild criticism on the Bible; which he performed with great credit to his learning as well as Christian belief; yet that he some- times fell into errors is indeed true, and what author is without them? But that he said sometimes so little about the typical senses relative to Christ was owing to the abovementioned object of discovering the literal ones being chiefly in his view; and 1: cannot be can- didly concluded that he thought the worse of those others, but only that he confined himself to his prin- cipal subject, as the others were well known before; and he did not propose that his commentary should include every thing which might be wanted for the in- formation of others, but only that in which others had before been conspicuously deficient. By such an ac- cusation even Leclerc also, whose commentary pro- posed to be more comprehensivef might be equally
condemned :
condemned; for we may find there also examples, as may be seen below, where after explaining the literal senses of passages, be adds little more than those words which P. M. objects to in Grotius, " Has notae congruunt potius in Christum."
It is natural enough for writers to be brief concern- ing what is well known, after having been diffuse con- cerning what is less known ; and there is no contra- diction in Grotius for saying that the fifty-third chap- ter of Isaiah was congruous to Jesus Christ, better than to Jeremiah or any other person, to whom the Jews •jor himself, according to their interpretation, had ap- plied it before in the literal senses so ascribed to it by them: in fact, it is only saying the same as be- fore " Haec congruunt potius ad Christum quam ad Jeremiam;" for though it should be ever so true, that the account there was actually meant of Jeremiah, yet there are still many particulars, though not all, con- cerning which -hat question may be asked at this dis- tance of time " Qids potest, ^c." who is now able to say that these things agree to Jeremiah ? But we are able to say that they are congruous to Christ, as we have better information concerning the events of his life. The accusation then in this particular example does not appear to me better founded, than the general objection of his giving too much attention to the literal senses of what occurs in the Old Testament, " and re- jecting for the most part all typical and secondary \i>nes."
But the objection to Grotius is still less solid, " that
he pays too great regard to Talmudic fables and Tal-
mudic interpretations,'* if we may judge by those par-
ticular examples, which the writer produces as proofs
VOL. VI II. X of
3o5
of this defect. For, in regard to the prophecy of Nebu - miah, I have shewn, that Jenkins has erroneously ac cused Grotius of deriving this from the Talmud, as P. M. himself suspected; and that on the contrary it originated with Christians ; for Galatinu? copied it from a book pretended to be writ by a Jew, but appa- rently a spurious work writ by a Christian in the name of a Jew in order to give it the greater credit, and im- pose upon other Christians, extra muros peccahir et intra. If Grotius was here deceived, he was deceived by a Christian fable, and not by a Talmudic one.
Another particular example, which he produces, is, ** that it was obviously the view of the later Jews to in- sert in their Talmads such interpretations of the scrip- tures as might justify their rejection of Christ as the promised Messiah : for which reason they appropriated many of the most striking prophecies concerning Christ to particular persons in Jewish history — in which unfair and erroneous method of interpreting prophecy Grotius generally agrees with them — and misled in this manner he applies the fifty-second and fifty-third chapters of Isaiah almost wholly to Jeremiah, and does not even mention the name of Christ except once, when he says " Haec congruunt potivs in Chrlstimi." But is not this once as good as a hundred times, since it includes the whole of these prophecies and gives the preference to this application of a// of them to Christ rather than to Jeremiah? Mas Lcclerc done better? In all his notes on the fifty-second chapter he mentions only once that any part of it is applicable to Christ, but once also he rejects a sentence as being applicable at all to Christ, as some erroneously supposed ; until he comes to the very last verse, and then he only says
more
more coldly ihanOrotius, *' the prophet here describes Christ more clearly than before," clarius guam in versus prior e. And how does he begin in his fifty- third chapter? Tt is by telling us " That the Messiah is described in this chapter, yet stifl not without being covered under veils fnoji sine involucrisj, so that what he says may agree in some degree faUcfuaienusJ with any pious Jews — but it squares much more aptly and fully to the Messiah," or as he afterwards expresses himself, more aptly and elegantly. Here then Leclerc applies this chapter just as much to pious Jews, as Grotius does to Jerem'mh, as beijig th^ primary senses of the contents : but what nice critic can discover any such great difference between these two expo- sitions of Grotius and Leckrc in these two chapters, as that the former should be accused " of having done more harm than good to the Christian religion ?" And that notwithstanding *' his deservedly esteemed and excellent book on the truth of the Christian religion." Comparisons may be sometimes odious, but candour requires, that we should not condemn in one man what is not judged condcmnable in others, and where there is scarcely any difference of importance in their con- duct.
General accusations, not substantiated by particular examples in pn)of of them, can be only refuted by such a or<9«era/ vindication, as that I think thus, while you think otherwise: and the only otJier particular example I can discover in the letter in question relates to the mere 7iame of Jeremiah. I have shewn above, that although Grotius alone is accused of having beei^ *• misled by those Talmudic fables," yet in reality he differs from Leclerc and some oiher Christians only in X 2 his
3o8
his applying my servant to mean Jeremiah in particu- lar and expressly by name as being one person living at the time of the captivity ; while Leclerc rpp-les it in z. more general way to several unnamed pious Jewf living at the same time ; and I may now add tha' many Jews and Christians likewise apply it only in a still "more general way to the whole peotle of the Jews before, at, and after that captivity, as being the primary sense oi my servant; which other Christians however judr;e to be applicable immediately to Christ and to no other, without having had any such primary allusion to any other person or persons whatever at I'le time of the captivity. Therefore if it was this e;:,jlication of my servant f by Grotius, as having had a prior or pri- mary application to some other person before Christ, on account of which the writer says, that Grotius was misled by the Talmud, yet others are here again at least' equally accusable of the same fault, and also be- fore the time of Grotius as well as since: but if the accusation respected merely the name of Jeremiah, then it is certainly not true that Grotius. could have de- rived his explication by that name from the Talmud, for not a syllable of any such name as Jeremiah is to be found so applied in the Talmud as a primary sense. Neither is it more true that the Talmud or Talmudic authors do ever give the phrase my serva?it any pri- mary sense whatever either by the name Jeremiah, or pious Jews, or any other of any kind, but always uni- formly explain it as meaning immediately the Messiah, like many Christians; and the same explanation is continued there throughout the whole chapters fifty- two and fifty-three, as meaning every where the MeS' siah only. If then Grotius has any where been mis- led
309
led in his explanations by the Talmud, yet it certainly is not in this particular article about Jeremiah, which the letter lays to his charge; and concerning which he ought rather to have been reproved by the letter writer for 7iot having followed the explications in the Talmud.
Thus we find, that it is a very different thing to make a loose general accusation, and to support it by a particular example in proof. The real fact is, that the explication of my servant, by Jeremiah, was first introduced by Saadias at the beginning of the tenth century, 500 years after the compilation of the Tal- mud ; nor do I know that he was ever followed in this explication by any other person, either Jew or Chris- tian, except Grotius: Grotius ought then to have been blamed for deserting the Talmud and Talmudic au- thors in order to adopt an erroneous critical explanation by a learned Jew in modern times ; of which erroneous critical explanations there were other examples by other learned Jews, and by which Grotius might have been just as much misled from the sense of wy servant in the Talmud, viz. Kimchi and Abenezra, both of whom explain my servant to mean often the Jewish people in general, yet not always; and it appears from Origcn against Celsus, that some Jews had explained the phrase in the same way even before the Talmud; and the same sense has been adopted by some Chris- tians likewise. Thus every way we find that with re- spect to ih\s particular accusation concerning Jeremiah Grotius stands quite clear of having been misled by Talmudic fables or explanations out of opposition to Christianity, and to have been misled merely by the critical judgment of a learned Jew in modern times : X 3 and
3IO
and this also in oppositiorxto one other learned Jew, So- lomon Jarchi, who had on the contrary setGrotius the better example o^ following the Talmud, by interpret- ing, like that, my servant to mean immediately the Messiah and no other person, just as most Christians do at present. In this instance then Grotius has not shewn any predilection for the Talmud, but on the contrary deserted it, where he might have belter fol- lowed it safely.
But it may possibly be still urged, that although Grotius did not here follow the Talmud, yet he is equally blameable for following the interpretatioi\ of Jews in modem times, who adopted such literal senses out of opposition to Christianity. But can this be as- serted with candour after my having shewn that the Christians, Leclerc, and others, allow these two chap- ters to have a primary reference to certain pious Jews at the time of the captivity and only a secondary one to the Messiah? If it be once allowed that those chap- ters have a primary reference to some other person than Christ, it seems to be a matter of no importance to Christianity whether by that primary person be meant certain pious Jews or the whole people of Jews ^ or any single person by name whether Jeremiah, Isaiah, or any other. Saadias ihen or Abenezra can no more be thought to have intended to oppose Chris- tianity by their own literal interpretations than Le- clerc, but to have been all guided by their own gram- matical and critical opinions only of the real sense of those chapters, as accordingly they all in their notes on it profess to be, and Grotius also the same.
Now as a farther confirmation that this only was their real, though mistaken view, I may mention that
a similar
a similar instance has occurred even in the present times concerning a very learned and esteemed annotator on the prophets, Rosemuller , who in 1793 published his translation and notes on Isaiah, and who explains those two chapters as containing a vindication of God and expostulation by Isaiah with the Jews concerning God's providence in his dealings with them relative to their captivity and restoration, without having even any secondary reference whatever to the Messiah in general or Christ in particular: so that my servant is said by him to mean either Isaiah himself or Jeremiah, or some prophet or other, by whose mouth God would or had declared his intentions to the Jews, sometimes one prophet and sometimes another, yet chiefly Isaiah. himself. How little then did Grotius differ from this late expositor in having substituted Jeremiah as mean- ing wy servant and prophet? It may be almost said that Saadias prophesied of the interpretation by Rose- muller; and as all those Jews profess in tlieir notes to be guided throughout by their own conceptions of the meaning of the text, it would be uncandid to suppose that they were secretly influenced by enmity to Chris- tianity any more than Grotius and Rosemuller, both professedly Christians.
I will quote some part of what Rosemuller says on this subject, and then others may judge whether Gro- tius did not express his own construction of those chap- ters sufficiently in saving Congruunt potius in Chris- tumy I. e. primarily and solely ; while Leclerc gives them only a secondary application to Christ and primarily to certain pious Jews, and while Rosemuller allows them no application to Christ whatever; more especially as it was a matter foreign to the chief object X 4. in
in view by Grotius, which was to investigate what certain passages of scripture might mean, if literally explained according to the most grammatical senses of the text, which others* before himself had explained o«/y agreeably to their own conceptions of their typical or spiritual senses if applied to Christ, and in senses different from one another. Now RosemuUer says, " Vix dici potest quam inanem operam in hac Isaias particula navavcrint Christiani interpretes; vatici- nationesde EccIcsiseChristianae faTis fere ubique in ilia expressas fuisse plerique statuunt, horum igitur hario- lationes sine damno ignorabimus Pr^f. Scholia in vetus test. torn. Hi. sect. 3. Lips. 1793.
Accordingly, throughout all his subsequent notes on the fifty-second and fifty-third chapter, he never al- lows that any one" sentence whatever has even a secon- dary reference to Christ, but that all are solely predic- tive by Tsaiah of facts and circumstances concerning the conduct of the Jevi^s, and the propriety oF God's dealings with them in consequence of their future ne- glect of the denunciations against their misconduct whxth would be made by his prophets Jeremiah and others; so that my servant, according to him, always means either the first predictor Isaiah himself, or some later prophet, Jeremiah, or some other, who lived during the time of the captivity and vjould repeat to the same purport as Isaiah ico years before. This explication of these two chapters he supports still further as the right one in an Additamentum at the end of his notes on Isaiah, which it may be acceptable to your readers, if I transcribe verbatim, since they may otherwise have no opportunity of knowing his opinions on this sub- ject, and at the same time of perceiving how far this
last
3^3
fast commentator supports the Interpretations of Saadias and Grotius.
*' Magna est interpretum dissensus, quisnam sit Servus Jehov^e, de quo hie muha praeclara in c. Hi. et liii. Sunt, qui Messiam a vale hie describi putant, id que maxinie ob Matth. xii. 18 — 31, ubi locus noster ad Jesiim Messiam repertur. Sed constat evangeliorum «criptores ex singulari quadam scripta sacra interpre- tandi ratione, quae tunc inter Judaeos recepta esset, multaprnphetarum aliorumque scriptorumHebraeorum !oca de Messia interpretatos esse, qua e scriptorum consilio de aliis personis agerent. Quare, ubi de sen- tentia et scopo loci alicujus ex libris Hebraeis questio agitur, novi testamenti auctoritas est nulla; sed semper ex scriptoris Hebraei contextu sententiarumque serie sensus erit investigaadus. Atque nostrum quidem hie Messisementionem facere poiz^Me, qualem quidem fingere solerent illius aevi scriptores, nee vetai res ipsa, nee orationis nexus; unde etiam nonnulli ex Hebraeis eruditi, veluti Kimchius, quatiLor coramata priora de Messia sunt interprctati. Sed quum in toto hoc libro' Servus JehovcB semper sit vel propheta vel populiis Is- raeliticus, ut mox probabimus, nunquam Messias, et praeterea versus Septimus ilium Jehovae ministi-iun, de quo sub hujus capitis initio, eundem libertatcm ex exilio annuneiantem describit (vide meam interpretationem) ilia sententia parum est probabilis. Sed multb minus etiam vero est similis eorum sententia, qui Cyrum hie intelligivoluntjde quo supra 41, ^,5. Nam ethic nee unquam Jehovcc minister appellatur, nee quo juro tarn praeclara de ipso dici potuerint, qualia legimus, facile patet. Sed quod rem plane perfieit, est caput 49, huic Joco plane parallelum, quod nemo facile ad Cyrum
retulerit..
3^4
retulerit. . Ac mihi quidem non ita difficile intellectu videtur, quaranam personam nosier hie describat. Etenim cum miiiistri Jehovee nomine nunc propheta appelletur (veluti supra 20-3, infra 44, 26, et 50, 10) nunc populus hraelitiais, et is quidem saepius in his capitibus, vid. 41, 8 — 42, 19 — ^43, ic — 44, i, 21 — 45, 4 — 48, 20; iis in locis, ubi ejus personae, quse minisiri Jehova appellatione indicatur, nomen nor. est adjectum, ex contextu atque ex iis rebus quae de ilia persona dicuntur, quisnam sit intelligendus, debebit judicari. Atque ilia quidem, quae hoc loco ministro illi Jehovce tribuuntur, non populiim Israelilicum sed prophetam innui dare ostendunt. Primo enim nun- quam populus Israeliticus affiatu dlvino instinctusdici- tur, sed semper propheta, vid. 48, 16 — 59, 21 — 61, i : deinde verba ver. 5, 6, de propheta esse intelligenda, patet ex 49, 6, ubi confer notara. Denique versus noster 5ep/m7W sensu prorsus convenitcum cap. 61, i, ubi prophetam loqui, nemo ncgabit. Prasterea, quam bene ommia, quae hie legimus, propheta conveniant, ex ipsa nostra interpretatione, puto, patebit"
** Sunt interpretes non minus docti quam acuti^ qui in priore parte cap. 49, Israelii arzim piorum, s'wepau- corum illorum, qui Jehovam colerent, caetum, sub minisiri diviTii persona inductum a poeta putent. Quam sententiam quidem non parum commendat vers. ,», ex quo prinio aspectu colligeres, populum Israeli ticum^ ut saepe alias, ita hoc in loco vocari ministrum Jehovcr. Fateor me ipsum diu fluctuatum esse inter illam interpretationem, et earn, quae de Vate haec omnia dicta accipit. Re tamen diligentius per- pensa, cum onmem rellquam banc orationem multo faciliuD aU prophetam quam ad populum referri sen- ' . tirem,
3^5
tirem, versum ilium tertium aliter interpretaudum esse intellexi, quam primo obtutu accipiendus videtur. Succurrit delude dubitanti etiam hoc, quod, qui de se ipso absolute in prima persona loquitur, semper est horum Vaticiniorum auctor i. e. Jchova, sive qui ab ipso suggesta enuntiat Fates.^' p. 266.
Now why should Saadias and Grotius be accused of injury to Christianity more than Leclerc and Rose- muller, on account of all of them thus searching out the primary and literal senses of the prophetic words of Isaiah concerning the conduct of Jews afterwards, and the future admonitions to them by the prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel relative to the captivity and res- toration fro'm it, when even Lowth, Bishop of. London, found no objection against explaining literally those Ajvords of chap. lii. 7, " How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings— that saith unto Zion, thy God reigneth;" and as meaning the good fiews nf the deliverance from Babylonish captivity (vid, his note 7) notwithsfanding that he afterwards adds " The ideas of Isaiah are m their full extent evangelical also, and accordingly St. Paul has with the utmost propriety applied this pas- sage to the preaching of the Christian gospel." Let us be uniform in our judgments of others, if we wish to be just and candid and not humoursome in accu- sations.
I have only to add, that it may be proper to produce an example from the Talmud, that it actually on the contrary explains these chapters of Isaiah as meaning immediately the Messiah only without any mention of Jeremiah or any literal and other primary interpretation whatever; and among several others Raymund Martyn
supplies
3^^
supplies me with the subsequent one — " In ch. liii. 4, Ipse infirmitates nostras accepit, Mc. Judaei base de Messia expHcunt in glossaTalmudica tract. Sankedrin cap. II. i. e. Ipse etiam Messias plagis officieturjuxta illud Esaiae hii. 5. Ipse vidneraius est propter pravari- cationes nostras^ ^c. Etiam -vers. 4. ^scriptum est,' vere uifirmitales nostras ipse accepit^ ^c." p. 127. The same explication is given also in their Chaldee paraphrases, and in Tulmudic authors, and in all their allegorical or typical commentaries writ since the Tal- mud ; nay, Jarchi adds in general by the Rabbins, for on Es. Hi. 13, he says, magistri nostri pice memorice affirmant hcec de Messia did. p. 429. Grotius then did not follow Talmudic fables, but the grammatical expositions of some modern critical Jews since the revival of learning in the west, and in contrcidiction to all former Jewish expositions in the Talmud and else- where. S.
P. S. I am now still more convinced that Nehu miah's prophecy is not to be found in Ravmund Mar- tyn's Pugio Fidei any more than in the Talmud, but that it originated with Galaiinus, who seems to have been misled by a spurious book writ by some Chris- tian in the name of a Jew, and it is not quite clear whether he had ever seen that book himself. For the Pugeo Fidei WHS writ and circulated in MS. long before Galatinus published his own book : now Mausacus in his Prolegomena to Pugeo Fidei accuses Galatinus of having copied from it almost every article, on which dependence may be placed as taken from genuine books of the Jews, but that he had intermixed many other articles copied by himself from spurious works, such as Martin had rejected : and among others .that very
book
book Gale Razeia, which Galatinus quotes along wiih the other opusculum contahiingNchumiah's prophecy, which is therefore equally liable to suspicion of being spurious. The words of Maussacus are as follow — ** Galatinus ex Judao Chrislianus, libros inde Area- nis Catholicae verilatis, Puglone Jidei nonduni edito, publicare ausus est, ex quo qua;cunque sunt boujE notae in sua Arcana transfudit, suppress© Martini nomine, non panels eiiam duhia^ et incerla fide'i additis; ex. gr. Gale Raseiam Rabbini Haccaclasch i. e. revelans Arcana — soli Galatino valde familiarem, et credendum est firmitcr spuriumeum esse et supposititium ; ex Buxtorfii- Bibliolheca discamus de ejus fide multos semper dubitasse, et ulterius advertendum est Judasis ipsis fuisse semper ignotum et ab iis uullo in pretio habitum, quamvis non erubuerit Galatinus eum tribu- ere celebri illi apud Hebrseos magistro traditionum Haccadosch dicto; sed alii jam diu odorati sunt, magno illi Judaeorum doctor! et infestissimo Christianas rcli- gionis hosti non posse assignari opus de mysterio Trini* tatis ita distincte ut apud ipsum Athanasium tractato, et nee solidius vel fidei nostras convenientius de eo aut de eucharistise sacramento disseratur apud patres ante concilium Nicenum ; quod non omisere Casaubonus et Thomsonus notare, quandoScaligcr per epistolas in- terrogavit, qui fieri potuit, vit magister ille, ob doctri- nam Rabbenu Hakkadosch dictus a sua gen-te, egcrit de transubstantionis slmiliumque vocabulorum expli- catione: solus Galatinus ausus est interserei-e kaC nauci et plan) ridicula inter innumeras alias auctori- tatcs bona; fidei a Martino nostro allatas."
The books mentioned by Galatinus immediately after seem to be of the same kind, namely, the opnscnla
of
of Nehumiah and Haccanas, and as such to be in-' eluded among those opposed above by Maassacus to the good authorities made use of by Raymond Martin.
ERRATA. P. 159, for Euzibae r. Cuii'ije — 16(, on bath legend- r. or both, &c.— 169, Su'um tuisfe r. Sidum, &c.— uno licto r. Siclo, &c.— icoo years r. 100, &c. — 176, Jscr /■'. Sew.
NOTE BY THE EDITOR.
The very profound learning, and deep rpjiect'ions of my most ingenious Correspondent S. to uhom this work is so much indebted, are at all times entitled to the highest consideraliony hut I doubt whether he has not in the present case misunderstood the assertions of P. M. who will probably in a future Number favour me by explaining his ideas more at large, which no man can do with more candour, more in- tegrity, and a purer love of truth.
Akt. XIV. Old Poetry. [^Induction
to " the compound of S'. George Rijiley, Chanon of B idlington, dedicated to K.. Edw. the 4'^." from an old MS. The poem was written 1471, printed by T. Onwin, i59i> and afterwards inserted in Ashmole's Thea- trum Chemicum, 1652. The author became a Carmelite at Boston, aiid died 1490. ]
" Heart beginncth the compounde of Alchemye,
Made by a chanon of Bridlington, after his lerning in
At Yxing for the tyme he did ther wonne ; [Italy,
In the which he declarcthe plainelie
The secrets both of the sone and the monCj How they ther kind to multiplye
In one bodye both must vvoonne.
The
319
The which chanon S' George Rypley hight.
Exempt from claustriall obseruaunce. For whom we pray both daie and night,
Sith he labored vs to aduaunce5 He torned darknes into light.
Intending to help vs vnto happie chaunccj Giuing councle, that we lyue right.
Doing vnto God no displeasaunce.
Child of this, discipline giue to me thie eare,
And harken vnto my doctrine, with al dilligence,
These wordes of wisedom in mynd loke thovv beare. Which be of old fathers true sentpns> Line cleare in sonle, to God make none offence.
Exalt the not but rather kepe the lowe,
Elles wil God no wisdom in the sowe.
From fayned doctrine and wicked thought The holly scripture doth him withdraw,
Not willing to dwel wher sinne is wrought. Dread God thcrfor and obey his law, A right wise man forsaken I nener sawe.
Nether his seede begging bread for need j
In the holie scripture thus I reede.
Make wisedom therfore thie suster to be. And cai vnto prudens to be thie frend;
For in the pathes of truth they wil guyde thee With loue and honestie, whcrsoeuer thou winde. The which vertues causeth, men to be cinteoirs and
Pray vnto God therfore that thou maist findc [kiadr;
Wisedorae and prudens with mowth and mynd.
All mannorof good with the come shall. And honesties by ther bandes innumerable j
Thus into combrance shalt thow not fall By the riches that be incomperable. Worship and proffit both wil the able
To connyng with continual manner and grace
Both now and after thie Hue's ?pace,
Foj
For the benefit which they do bring In part and in nombrc by sapience.
To him I can compare nothing.
No riches nor yet spices of redolens, Aboue al treasure such is thie excellens
That whatsoeuer pretious is 3:1;' a->ij;{
To him compared is but as clay I wissev - -
Infinite treasure to many they be.
He that vseth these frendship he shall baiic
"With God in heauen, and ther him see, After them busilie therfor see thou craue. For body and soule both wil they saue.
And ther in goods they multiplye
And befor princes they dignifjx.
Think how Adam lost his kingdome, Sampson his might which was so strong.
King Salamon also lost his wisdom, Dauid was punished for his wrong. And in ok by the hear faire Absalon ,hong.
King Ezechie by his sicknes had punishment.
And many mo for synne were shent.
But se bowe other which lined wd. And vnto God made none offence.
Such chastement did they never feele. But God shewed vnto them benevolens : Enoch and Ely were caried hense
To paradice, as other good liuers were.
And rewarded in diuers manner.
Som had great fortune, and som had conningc. Some peace and som had great riches j
Som conquered landes to ther wonnyng. Some were exalted for ther great mekenes: Of tyrants, lyons, and hoot furnaces.
As Daniel and other in many a place.
Thus to good liuers God sent great grace.
.And
3^1
And to sinners for punishment
Some to amend their Hues had spare.
Some sodcnlye with her from heuen were brent As sinful Sodomites put from al grace With Deron and Abiron, and other in many a place,
Whicii sank for synne to endles woe.
Thus for ther sinnes to pains they go.
God hath rewarded both evil and good.
And this may rest in thy thought. From al sinful lyving chang thy raoode.
Yf synnful people this wel vnderstand
They wold be a feard God to offend. And some their sinful hues wold amend. And so shalt thow best vnto wisdom wend.
Therfore with God loke thow beginne. That he with grace may dwel with thej
Humble thy self to do his wil.
And in the knowledg of his great privytie Norish vertu, and from al vice flye.
And trust me wel he wil the disclose.
•" — [Line wanting.]
Keepe them then secret, and for me pray. And to God with them, whatsoever thou may
For the tyme thow shalt this lyf enduer j That after thie end thou may be suer In heuen for to rewarded be
By God's mercy therto remayning.
The which 1 beseach him to graunt both the and me."
[The MS. is of earlier orthography than Ashmole's copy, and appears to have been made before Orwin printed it, there not being Ripley's Epistle to Edward then first added. It is in the possession of Mr. John Scott, Strand. The whole is in seven-line stanzas ; and the contents following the above arc a prayer, five itanias ; an introduction of twenty-four stanzas ; the work in twelve chapters, tiz. Galcinacion, twenty-two stanias ; Dissolution, fif- tfen , Itanxas ; Separatjgn, eighteen stanzas; Conjunction, fifteen stanzas j vol. VII J, y Putrifactio»,
Putrli-actjon, fifty sta:i2ai; Cor.?«;lat!on, thirty stanzas j Cibation, six.stan- zas ; Sublimation, eight stanzas 4 FermsntatJon, nineteen sUnzas ; Ezalta- tion, eleven stanzas ; Multiplication, nine stanzas j PiVijection, eight stan- zas ; tiien Recapitulation, eleven stanzas 5 Proof of diverse things, fifteen stanzas; and Explicit, j
Conduit street. • '"^^'^. H.
Art. XV. Tlie Ruminator. Containing a series of moral, sentimental, andcritical Essays.
N°. XL.
Story vf an eccentric Character, continued.
TO THE KUMINATOR. aTohsffT, tm, Longford' told me one day, with eyes of fiery agony, the scandalous rumours which were abroad regarding him. He possessed in the latter period of his residence among us a horse of uncommon power and beauty; and he rode him with admirable skill and boldness. He knew all the purlieus and intricacies of the forest; and was often seen glancing with rapidity along its bye- paths to the surprise and conslertiation of those inhabi- tants, to whose occupations, obscurity and conceal- ment were necessary. The love of adventure, the movements of an active spirit, and a fondness for the wild scenery of Nature, were the probable causes of these excursions. Even the night did not restrain him; and moonlight rides were not unfrequent. Well aware that he might meet hardy vagabonds, on whose em- ployments he might intrude unwelcomely ; and whose re»entment he might incur^ he went armed with a
3word
3^3
sword and pistols, which he wielded with such a fear- less dexterity as overawed those, who were otherwise inclined to disturb him.
Several daring robberies had been at this time com- milted in the district by a person unknown. Vulgar report soon afterwards fixed them on Longford. He communicated the dreadful calumny to me with a de- gree of agitation which alarmed me for his intellects. To me assurances of his innocence of crimes -so shock- ing and degrading were utterly superfluous. Yet I could not conceal from him that his mysterious history would give colour to such an idea with others. Even this did not wring his secret from him. His bosom swelled; and the flame of indignation darted frorn hiS eyes. " Am I indeed sunk so low as this;" said he: and a flood of tears relieved him. *' My enemies," he continued, in a more plaintive tone, *' may now triumph indeed ! and as I have been long surrounded by spies; and have several limes nearly fallen a sacri- fice to their machinations, they may now perhaps suc- ceed in getting possession of my person, and even taking my life. My father fell a victim to thiir con- trivances; and nothing would gratify them like extin- guishing me, the last remnant of a race, whose story is a blot on the pages of history, and the just succession of lawful governments!"
I heard ihcse indistinct allusions with interest and awe. They were strange and wonderful. But I will confess that with all my partiality for Longford there was one suspicion which I could not entirely subdue. I doubted whether there was not in his character a mix- ture of insanity; and whether this was not the preva- lent topix: on which it hinged. It is often on one single V 2 subject
subject that this disorder betrays itself; and there is no fancy so common in a disordered brain as its rights to a princely rank. His hints however were so rational, even on this point, that on the whole my opinion pre- ponderated in favour of his soundness of mind.
Great inquiries about him were now made by dis- tant eiTjissaries; and savage-looking runners evidently dogged his rides and walks. He saw them himselfj ajid I saw them still oftener than he did. He felt the insult; but he was undaunted. His dauntless state of mind did not arise from iffnorance of his danger: he knew it well; and was perfectly convinced that any slight colour for destroying his liberty or even his ex- istence would be embraced. It was only when he looked on Ellen, that his heart was softened, and he
wept. 'Neither Mr. M nor Ellen gave a moment's
credit to the cruel attack on his character; but it ma- terially aggravated the difficulty of a parent's determi- nation; and wounded the delicate feelinjrsof the daugh- ter without diminishing her affection.
** The world," said Longford, " will smile at the assertion that there is a conspiracy carrying on against my person; and that my life is aimed at; they will consider it the whim of a heated head, or a perverse temper. I repeat the accusation : and can prove it by incontrovertible facts. You will too soon, I fear, have proofs before you, as I have had. But when I am seen here no more ; when I fly from hence as the only mode of securing my freedom: and a painful existence which my duty rather than my inclination impels me to preserve, retain your confidence in me, protect my reputation, and be kind to my memory i Time will, I
trust.
3^6
trust, unveil this melancholy mystery, and shew what 1 have been ; what 1 am ; and what I ought to be !"
He left us on the evening on which this conversation happened with more than usual gloom. His eyes had long been fixed on Ellen while his hps refused to utter a word. When he rose to take leave, the agitations of his countenance were dreadful ; he cast on Ellen a look almost of despair, he pressed my hand with a tremu- lous fcTvour which I shall never forget j and he tore himself away.
We heard nothing of him for three days; on the fourth we were all looking just before the commence- ment of twilight on the openings of the forest from the drawing-room window, when we saw a horseman at full speed, with his sword drawn, pursued by four others; and the instant he reached some high pales that sepa- rate tv.o divisions, and seemed an insurmountable bar- rier to his escape, he spurred his horse, who with a tremendous spring cleared his leap, and escaped his pursuers. Our eyes were ail fixed on him; and we could hardly breathe during the tremendous snspence. Ellen, who had been gazing v.'ilhout the utterance of a word, screamed and fainted. And in less than ten minutes Longford, in the very dress of the horseman whom we had seen, burst into the room, and fell almost senseless into my arms.
As soon as he breathed again, he cried wildly, ^' Am I safe? Where is Ellen? Protect me, till I have taken my last leave of her: Give me fair play; let me fight the assassins: but do not allow ihem to come four upon mc at once!" — His countenance shot. fire; and his teeth gnashed with agony. He relapsed for a few minutes into insensibility, but gradually recovered his composure.
Y 3 He
^2.6
tte told us his attackers were known desperadoes!, often employed in the most daring functions of the police, but as often colouring under this mask acta of private revenge and murder, for which they are hired by enormous bribes. It is their practice to get false iriformatlon lodged against the persons intended to be attacked} and thus they proceed armed with a distor- tion of the povi'ers of the law. They had now been sent down from London, at an incredible expense, to lake advantage of the reports of robberies committed in this neighbourhood. The same men, for they in vain attempted to disguise their persons, had once com- mitted an assault upon him before; and had kept him in custody for six weeks, when he escaped from them by a miracle. As Mr. M ■• • was an intelligent, firm, and active magistrate, it was probable they might iiot immediately venture into his house for their pur- pose; but Longford had no doubt they would way-lay him in some way, from which it would be scarce pos- sible finally to protect himself. He hinted that per- sons in power were his decided enemies ; and woulcl wink at no light stretch of authority to obtain the command of his person. M — — who had formed a high idea of the purity of administrations, and of the exercise of laws and institutions, would have blamed Lonfgord for these insinuations, under less provocation. He still thought him mistaken, though he did not add to his sufferings by contradicting him.
For more than a week Longford was kept quiet in
M 's house. During this time he still made many
allusions to his story without explaining it, and per- sisted in his certainty of a conspiracy against him, of which there||jfere indeed too many confirmations
without
IS tcria
without doors. Wretches in disguise haunted the avenues to the house, and beset the servants and visi- tors. But hitherto in vain.
In the mean time Ellen's anxiety grew with her at- tachment: her health suffered; and even her beauty jdeclined. She spent however those precious days prin- cipally in the company of Longford, in whose intercst- in2:manner, rich stores of knovvledo-e, and affectiufrelo- quence, she found new objects of admiration. With a wild fancy and an agitated heart even his confusion was frequentlji eloquent! the various scenes in wh.ich he had been engaged gave a romantic colour to all his al- lusions: and sentiment of the noblest and most olow- ing hues flowed from him as from a founhe.in. Indig- nant, irascible, yet instantly relenting; impetuous; daring, yet in a moment melted with tendtirnesc; ac- quainted with the diversitied tints of " many-colour'd life," having learned to weep " at thcwoe of other's by his own;" and deeply touched with the softest of human passions, he had within him all the ingredients that give interest and delight to the powers of conversa- tion. Not indeed those powers which ■avz pleasino- to dull men, and mere men of business, who stared at him with a stupid wonder; and only pitied his ebul- litions as the syniptoms of insanity : but such as are admired by people of cultivated minds and refined dis- positions.
I compassionated the situation of sweet Ellen from the bottom of my heart. Her attachment became too like idolatry; and her sublime affections irradiated, yet wore her beautiful person, lo her Longford, no doubt, communicated many particulars of his life, whieh he concealed from others; but I do not yet Y 4 know
5«8
know thaf he gave Tier a perfect expFanation. Her virtue was too great to permit her to fly with him, and be the partaker of his adventures; nor did he wish it. He had too many hardships and dangers to encounter to desire that she should be a sharer of them. And he seemed perfectly convinced of the impossibility of long remaining in safety in his present situation. The idea of the separation was inexpressibly dreadful to both.
I have recovered one of his poetical addresses to Ellen on this occasion, which I will insert, '
« To E. M.
1.
" Soft is the fairy beam that plays
Within that eye's too mournful sight; Yet dangerous is it still to gaze Till my soul melts in fond delight. ' O hide that lovely face. In which entranc'd I trace An angel's goodness with an angel's grace!
2. Tear the delusion from my view ;
Soften no more my yielding heart : Those features of celestial hue
Raptures too high for earth impart! For this shall I adore A few short hours ; and then deplore Thro' all ray darkening days the transient pleasure o'er I
3. Yd cast that heavenly ray again Upon my languishing desire j And tho* the bliss be mix'd with pain.
Once more relume the rapturous fire f
Th9
3^9
The memory still Of that delight will fill My years of future gloom with many a melting thrill. 4. O why, adown that lovely cheeTc,
Steals, Ellen, the contagious tear"? Does it a doubt of Longford speak ? Is it the mark of love or fear ?
O let me drink those drops divine. And, as the compact thus I sign. E'en tho' the poison kills, a moment think thee minel
5. Upon my ravish'd ear bestow
The tones of that enchanting voice. And from thy bosom's fountain throw The treasures that my soul rejoice. For tho' thy beauty charm. Yet, lovelier than thy form. Do gems of mental light thine inward spirit warm!
6. O let me fold thee in mine arms.
And press thee to this last embrace. Forget one moment all alarms ; And ages in that moment trace! Then if my destiny For ever bids me fly. The point of earthly bliss I taste before I cHoi"
N°. XLI. The same Story continued.
TO THE RUMINATOK.
STR,
Longford at length ventured to his own cottage, whence he dispatched a note to M the next morn- ing to announce his safe arrival. Another day passed ;
and
S30
and a third; and all was well. On the fourth he was
expected again to visit M 's house; but he came
not. Uneasiness and alarm pervaded the family: night arrived; and brought no intelligence of him. A servant was dispatched to him; and returned with an account, that he had left his home iu the morning to dine at M 's; and they had not since heard of him.
Day followed day ; but no information of him could be procured. Every rap at the door, every tread of a horse was listened to/with a sick and fearful trembling. Ellen very soon sunk into silent and almost motionless despair.
At last a note without a postmark, and by what con- veyance is unknown, reached the house. It contained these few lines in a hurried hand, and on a torn scrap of paper:
*' My Dear Friend,
''• 1 have been trepanned, imprisoned, and all but murdered: I do not yet despair: I may escape; if I do not, death will be a grateful release : tell Ellen to pray for me; and then we may both be happy: cherish my memory, my dear friends; and if you hear no more,
remember that the last dregs of the house of
have expired!"
From that hour no further intelligence was received of the amiable, highly-endowed, and unfortunate Long- ford. For a little while Ellen's gloom seemed to viekl to the illusions of a fond imagination. She wandered in the wood-walks, and sat for hours in the melancholy stillness of the churchyard, talking to herself, and apos- trophizing Longford's absent spirit. It was deemed *most prudent to' indulge her in her affecting occupa- tions. She gathered turt^ and.:rpar^d a little heap whic|i
she
33^
sh6 called his grave; and steeped it continually with her tears. She decorated it almost daily with some wild poetical address, of which th« following is at least rational and simple.
^^ Poetical Address to a Turf, raised as a memorial of the Grave of Longford. 1. *' Q humid Turf, didst thou indeed
The form of him I love enshroud. Then every flowerj that decks the mead. Should of thy sacred soil be proud. 2. I And I would sit from morn till night,
And dew with tears thy fragrant heap,, And invocate each holy sprite Round thee eternal watch to keep. 3. Then that illurain'd restless frame
My heart would know to be at peace. And his glad soul's immortal flame
Would from its earthly turmoils cease. 4. ^ow wears away my sinking mind
Beneath Conjecture's wearying pain j While, if to certain woe resign'd, I could the weight of grief sustain. 5. O Turf! on thee with fervent prayer
I kneel! if freed from human chains yiy Longford's spirit roves in air,
O let him listen to my strains! 0\
Let him before my tranced sight
Some vision of his fate impart; Jho' mix'd with trembling and affright
'Twill comfort still my aching heart' : " 7- Then
33^
Then I will soothe this feverish brain
With memory of his former love j And cahn this bosom till again
I meet him in yon realms abotc V*
These temporary rays of Ellen's mind however gra- dually faded away, and her intellects sunk into a fright- ful and unchanging darkness. I remember her when her wild fancy subdued by tenderness was in one of its sweetest humours. It was by far the most affecting sight I ever beheld: yet it approached the nearest iu some of its traits to my ideas of a superior order of beings. To those who can admit beauty .to be consis- tent with a certain degree of paleness and languor, she was more beautiful than painter ever drew. Her brown hair fell negligently over her face and shoulders ; and her wild eyes, gazing by fits as if she saw not ; and then lighting up into an ineffable kind of sweetness as some soothing image crossed her mind, filled one with a mixture of love, pity, admiration, and awe, which overcame and electrified the soul. As the friend of Longford she often threw herself on my protection with such powerful appeals to my heart, that I have wept with her for hours. Then her eloquence was so touching, and the play of her ideas so unexpected and brilliant at those short periods, when the beams of hope gave elasticity to her spirits, that one was carried away into a kind of fairy-land, and listened to her, as if she was inspired.
But these bright days, as I have said, lasted only a little while : the period of impenetrable gloom came, and soon ended in decay and death, before she had completed her twentieth year. I visit her grave con- tinually; and never cease to consecrate it with my
tears.
333
tears. My heart thrills whenever I think of lier ; antl willingly would I suffer again the agonies I have often endured at the sight of her disorder, for the delight of hearing her voice, and beholding the charms of her inexpressibly interesting countenance. But this is a selfish wish ! The dear angel is at rest; or rather enjoy- ing that superior order of existence, for which lier ex- quisitely fine faculties and pure heart were better adapted !
But my readers will be impatient to hear the fate of Longford ! Alas! I cannot entirely satisfy them. That the same assassins, who pursued him in the forest, bore him away by stratagem or by force cannot be doubted. That he had no means of extricating him- self; or even of applying for a Habeas Corpus, sup- posing the arrest to have taken place under the colour of some legal process, shews the extent of the con- spiracy, and the power exerted in it; and gives sus- picion that persons of no mean station or opportunity were concerned in it.
It is not easy to guess bow an indiviJual, with means of worldly oftence so apparently inadequate, could be an object of such strange jealousy any where. But, in all nations, there are some, whose love of revenge the laws of their country cannot restrain, or whose of- ficiousness mistakes opportunity for right,
Longford at any rate has not yet been heard of; and I cannot flatter myself that he is any longer in existt- ence. If he lives, it is in some remote land, where he can find no means of communlcatiou with his Euro- pean friends; and where he must have endured hard- ships too shocking to be contemplated, if they could prevent him from writing to those who certainly pog- sessed his highest love arid esteem.
It
334
It was my lutehtiAn to have closed this letter with an account of the discoveries I had made, or the sup- positions I had formed regarding his earlier history. But I have just obtained important additional clues from some papers, which he had left in the hands of
Ellen M , and which have now been committed to
my care and inspection. It would be impossible, without more brevity than is proper, to include what it may be interesting to relate from them in the preserU letter: and I have no choice therefore but to reser\'e the termination of my story for another; which the late- ness of the present month will not allow me time to write. H. S^ F.
July 1 8, iSo8.
Art. XV^I. Further reinarks on the merits of Grotius.
hi
TO THE EDITOR OF CENSURA LITEEARIA.
I beg leave to return my thanks to your respectable and learned correspondent S. for his obliging and ready at- tention to my request concerning the passage in Gaiatinus. It seems to me strongly to confirm the opinion which I hnzarded of Grotius, with regard to his merit: as a theologi- cal writer. He ought not to have mentioned so doubtful a circumstance as an undeviable fact ; and if he chose to men- tion it at all, he should at least have quoted his authority fbr it. Eoth Bayle and Moreri say thai Gahitinas took the whole substance of his work from Porchet, without any ac- knowledgment of it, as Porchet himself had done confessedly from R. Martini's Pvgio Fidei. This last work, written in the loth centur}', was republished in the 17th. Which of these editions your correspondent has examined he does not
say^
'> A -
fzy ', but it seems probable that the foundation of the story is to be met with somewhere in the first. I entirely agree with 5. that Galatinus |iad never seen the optisculum to which he refers, though he speaks of it purposely in am- biguous terms, and that the story itself therefore stands on a very slight foundation. Happily the christian religion needs not such support ; and it has received more injur/ from injudicious defenders than from open enemies. Nei» thcrof theTalmuds can be considered as any authority: they were compiled from traditions of which no other vestiges are extant ; nor is it at all probable that any other antient opns- cula are now in the hands oi" the Jews. For the Talaiuds were a receptacle for every sort of tradition, however ab- surd, and however contradictory j* and Gnladnus Las beeu justly censured for paying too much attention to the Talmu- dic trifling. f
As to Philoj he is not singular in supposing him to have been the author of the Book of Wisdom^ for Jerome men- tions this to have been the opinion of some of the ancients. The Council of Trent, in conformity with some of the more ancient councils, considers this book as canonical, and it is so received at present in ihe Roman Catholic Church. Ac- cordingly, in Duhamell's edition of the vulg^^te, this p^ssagej, ch. 11, 12, and 13, is applied to Christ. " Quae sequuntnr, apertam de Christ! passione contint-;nt prophctiam." I know
* As a proof of ch's, the gre.t Rabbi H llfl affirm»!.-!, that Kinsliezekiah was the expected Messiah: lA-hith was very properly c nfiadicted by R.J.srph, because Kezekiah lived under the fi st temph, and Zcch<»r aii prcphesed ot the Messiah under the second temjilt-. R. HiJl-l r.t: non dsb.tur prsli ]WeE5i?.s. Jajn enlm compotiii iJlo sui t \ivente Ezccbia. R Joseph con- dona ipi>< domine ipsius. Ezcchius quando vijfit ? Siante temjilo pritno. Ac Zecharias vaticinatus est sub templo secundo : Ex.dia i/alde, &c. Zcch. ix. 5. Talmud Sunheilrlii, xi. 36.
•j- Nim'io studio Tulmudkarum nuga'um. Rainoldus apud Coch, Sanhed. xi. 37. ia notrSt
not
not what to make of viotr osi/j in Grabe's and the Vatican Septuagint it is trociSa. Kvpis j with which our present tians- lation agrees. But in the old version it is rendered God's son. Grotius gives a decided opinion concerning this Book of Wisdoni, and as usual without deigning to produce any authority for it. He affirms that it was written by a Jew, after the time of Ezra, but before that of Simeon the high priest, and translated into Greek, with additions and alterations, by a certain learned christian. It seems, how- ever, to be hardly doubtful, that botli this work and Ecclesi- asticus were written after the coming of Christ.
P.M.
Art. XVII. Literary Obituary,
1S08. June 12. Mt. eighty-four, the Rev. George Ashby, B.D. and F.A.S. Rector of Barrow in Suffolk, and formerly Fallow of St. John's College, Cambridge. He was of a Lei- cestershire family : his knowledge in antiquities was minute and extensive — on which subjects he had been many years a correspondent in the Gentleman's Magazine, He had been blind some time before his death.
July 19. At his house in High-street, Mary-Ia-bonne, in the seventy-first year of his age, Alexander Dalrymple, Esq. a man who, by his abilities and the incessant labour of half a century, had attained the well-earned reputation of undis- puted pre-eminence beyond all his contemporaries in the important science of Hydrography. Mr. Dalrymple was dismissed from his situation of Hydrographer to the British Navy on the 2Sth of May last; and we understand, that, in the opinion of his medical attendants, he died in conse- quence of vexation resulting from that event. He left behind bim a pi^er explanatory of the transaction.
T.Bfr.Jlcy, Prirtarr. S^ CouU, Fle»t Street, LoiKion.
CENSURA LITERARIA.
NUMBER XXXir.
[Being Number XX. of the New Series.]
Art. I. The fable of Oiiid treting of Narcissus ; translated out of Latin intoEnglysh mytre,iuitlia moral ther v?ito, very pleasante to rede. MDLX.
" God resysteth the proud in t uery place. But unto the humble he geveth his grace: Tlierforc, trust not to riches, beuti, nor strength. All these be vayne, & shal consume at length."
Imprynted at London^ by Tliomas Hackette, and are to be sold at hys shop in Cannynge strete, over agaynste the Thre Cranes. 4/0. 18 leaves.
Mr. Steevens, in his list of ancient English translations from classic authors, has dated this early version 1590;* or the printer may have done so, by reversing the figure of 6; since the true date must have been observed by him either in Pearson's cata- logue, in Herbert's Ames, or in Warton's History. Excepting the translation of Caxton, this seems the oldest specimen of an attempt to transmute any of the
* Reed's Shakspeare, Vol. II. p. io6.
VOL. VIII. z fables
338
fables of Ovid into English metre: though such a cir- cumstance might not be adverted to by Mr. Warton, when he slurred the unknown writer by saying his name was '^ /«c^i/y suppressed."* Ritson, however, does not concur in thinking it altogether suppressed; since he assigns the production, unhesitatingly, to Thomas Howell, in consequence of these initials at its close, '^ Finis. Quod T. H,"t As I never have had an opportunity of glancing at Howell's original poesies, (of which two collections are presumed to exist) I am neither prepared to confute nor to corroborate the as- sumption of Ritson, by any correlative proof. If the love song " of disdainful Daphne," in England's Helicon, can be traced among the poetical devises of T. Howell, in 1568 or 1581, the present versifier must be regarded as a different personage; his style beinff more antiquated by nearly half a century. Near the commencement and close of his moralisation he speaks of his " youthful yeares," and of his intention to per- severe in labours like the present, when more wit and more knowledge should awaken him to riper under- takings.
It is now time to produce a brief sample of this metri- cal version from the third book of the Ovidian Meta- morphoses, and it will be found nearly on a par with Turbervlle's translation of the Epistles, which appeared about seven years afterward. The following passage is rendered from Fons erat illimis^ nilidis argenteus undis: 1. 407, et scq.
*' A sprynge there was so fayre, that stremes like sylver had,
* Hut. of Eng. Poetry, III. 417. f Bibliographia Po^tica, p. ajo.
Whichc
3S9
Whiche nether shepardes happe to fyndc,
nor gotes that upwarde gad Uppon the rocky hyls;
nor other kynde of beste j Wyth flashyng fecte to foule the same,
or treble at the leste: V/herin them selves to bathe
no byrdes had made repsre. Nor lefFe had fallen from any tree
the water to appeare. About the which the grounde
had made some herbes to growe. And eke the trees had kept the sunne
from commynge doune so lowe. Narcyssus theare through heate,
and wery hunter's game. Glad t:o take rest, dyd lye hym downe,
and fast beheld the same : And as he thought to drynke, hys fervent thurste to slake, A dryer far desyre hym toke,
by lokyng in the lake: For seynge, as he dranke, the image of hys grace, Therewyth he, rapt, fell streyght in love with shadowe of his face." &c.
This fable extends to five pages : the moralisation thereupon, to twenty-six. And in the latter^ persons scriptural and mythological, topics sacred and profane, are mingled together so as to produce no very felicitous effect. But the versification is superior to that em- ployed in the Fable, and the lines in general have more cadence. I transcribe a few stanzas, in verification of these remarks.
2 2 " The
340
" The ryche & proude, dysdayncfull, welth) e man, That Lazarus forbad the cromraes to eate
Whicbe from his horde shoulde fall^ mighte after ban His mouche aboundance and his dentye meate. Which was the cause of all his torment greate; ' Yet, yf he coulde have used well his gayne.
He lyttel shoulde have had of all his payne.
Now Cressus* eke, the welthy kinge of Lide, Whose soms of goulde werpassinge to be toulde,
Dyd se at laste his ritches wolde not byde (As Solon sayde) his ende that did behoulde. Wherfore, we prove, who putteth truste in goltle
Or slypper f welthe, are scene in care to dwell.
And lose, at laste, the good they like so well.
Of strengthe agayne who will him selfe avaunce. Shall se that conqueste goes not all by myghte :
This David made the Phelystins to graunte. That slue there giaunte Golyas, ther knighte, Agajmste the which no man the thought to wyghte;
For al his pride, yet sawe they, at the laste,
Him overthrowne and ded, by Davydes caste.
Nowe Sampson's strengthe that caused all this woe I overpas, and Miloe's mighte so straunge
That coulde induer a forlonge wel to go,
And on his backe an oxe to beare the raunge ; For all his mighte to weke estate did cbaunge.
When that his strengthe did bringe his latter [h]oure
To show the ende of myght and mortall power."
Two other selected stanzas may serve to exhibit his dialectic skill.
" Who thinkes he hath more then he doth posses, • j
In this not only is dysseved quite. But hath so moche of that he hath the lesse,
* CrcBius, KingofLydJa, f Slippery, unstable."^ ^
Of
341
Of wit I meane^ wherin who shall delyghte More than lie oughte, him selfe doth this dyspite Unwittinge dene, the more he thinkes he hathe Even by so moche hath lessc, as PJato sayth.
So he that demes his witte above the reste. So moche the lesse then others hath hereby j
And he that thinkes his one of all the beste. The worst of all it reason will replye : Although the same he never can espie.
By cause he trusteth the lying well of prayse.
Whereby his wit and all he hath decayes."
On the back of the title fourteen lines are addressed
by " the printer to the booke/' and a prose argument
of the Fable follows on the next page.
^ ^ T. P.
Art. II. The Arte of Reason, rightly termed fplt- craft;* teaching a perfect way to argue and dis- pute. Made hy Raphe Lever. Scene and allowed according to the order appointed in ike Queene'it Maiestie's iviunctions. Imprinted at London ly H. Bynneman, dwelling in Knight-rider streate at the signe of the Mermayde. Anno 1573. These
• This novei term is thus expounded by the author. <*Witcraft: inrtut I'tl ratio ditteicndi. If those names be aKvaves accompted the bt'st, which due moste playnly teache the hearer the meanyng of the thyng that they are appoyntcd to expresse ; doubtlesse, neyther Logicke nor Dialect can be thought so fit an Englishe worde to expresse and set fooilh the Arte of Reason by, as Witcrtft is : seeing that JVit in our mother toung is oft taken for Reason, and Ciofie is the auuclenie EngHth woorde whereby wee have u.ed to expresse an Arte j whiche two wordis knit together in li'ltcrafiedo^ signifie tlie arte that teacheth Witte and Reason. And why shoulde hand- crafte and witchciafce bee good Englishe names, and starcraft and witcrafte hee none?"
z 3 Bookes
(I
34*
Bookes are to le solde at his shop, at the north west dore of Paules Church. Small Svo, pp. 340.
This is likely to be one of the most rare of our early treatises on logic, since it escaped the notice of Mr. Chalmers, when he formed his list of such scho- lastic books as Shakspcare might have used.* The author's preface is dated from Durham, (Nov. 24, 1572.) Wood says he was archdeacon of Northum- berland, but resigned this preferment in Oct. 1573. t From a dedication to Walter Earl of Essex, it appears that he had been appointed reader to his Lordship nine years before the publication of this treatise, which he was chiefly induced to compose in consideration of his former lack of skill in logical matters, and to supply the deficiency which his Lordship is supposed to have ex- perienced in his illogical tutor. For, according to the decision of Archdeacon Lever, "Verilye, it is requisite in all them which shaibe Readers to men of noble birth, that besides knowledge and diligence to teach, they have also a certaine sleight and cunning to cause their scholers to delight in learning; and so to use the mat- ter, that personages of high estate be neither dravven from the love of their booke, by to muche forced exer- cise, nor suffered to lose their appointed time of studie, for lacke of a grave and allurable calling upon; for the one breedeth a lothsomnesse, and the other a forgetful- nesse."
From his Epistle Dedicatory the author proceeds to a
* See Apology for the Believers, &c. p. ^51. •f- Vide Athen. Oxon. I. 419. Fuller seems to consider Thomas Lever (a protestant divine and copious writer of sermons) as his uncle. See Worth. of Lane. p. 115. AIsoCens. Ljt. vii. 160.
long
343
long Preface or " Forespeache," (according to hi$ new-fangled dialect) and in this he labours to vindi- cate his use of new devised terms loquendum ut vul- gus : but he speaks as though Dr. Wilson's " Arte of Logique" had not preceded his own, which it did more than twenty years. *
" Consider the case as it is. An Arte is to be taughte in that toung, in whiche it was never written afore. Nowc the question lyeth, whether it were bet- ter to borrowe termes of some other toung in which the sayde Arte hath bene written; and, by a little chaunge of pronouncing, to seke to make them Eng- lishe vvordes, whiche are none in deede; or else of simple usual wordes to make compounded termes, whose severall partes considered alone, are familiar, and knowne to all Englishmen? For trial hereof, I wish you to aske of an English man who understandeth neither Greek nor Latin, what he conceiveth in his mind when he heareih this word a backset, and what he doth conceive when he heareih this term a. predicate? and doubtlesse he must confcsse, if he consider the matter aright or have any sharpnessc of wit at al, that by a backset he conceiveth a thing that muste be set after, and by a predicate that he doih understande nothing at all.
" The like shall fall forth when comparison is made betwixt any of our new termes compounded of true English words, and the inkhorne termes derived of straunge and forain languages. For he that is an Eng- lishman born and understandeth no toung but his owne, shal at the first eyther conceive the meaning of oure words by himself, or else soon learne them upon
* This is ascertained by itc bfing inscribed to Edward the Sixth.
z 4 an
544
an other man's instruction and teaching. But for these inkhorne termes, it is certaine that he shall neither understande them by himselfc: nor keepe them in re- membraunce when he is taught theyr signification of others, bicause the vvorde can make him no helpe.
*' We therefore that devise understandable termes, compounded of true and auncient English woords, do rather maintain and continue the antiquitie of our mother tongue, then they that with inckhorne termes doe chaunge and corrupt the same, making a mingle^ mangle of their native speache, and not observing the propertie thereof."
Much more to the same purpose is written in a simi- lar strain. He aftervvards acquaints the reader, that In his " three firste bookes" he has followed Aristotle both formatter and order; not only for setting forth more true and [)rofitable things than others, but also " that his manner and trade of writing is more per- fect and playncr."
^' As for Ciceronians and sugar- tongued fellowes which labour more for finenes of speach then for know- ledge of good matter, they oft speake much to small purpose, and shaking foorth a number of choise words and picked sentences, they hinder good learning wyth their fond chatle. But in my fourth booke, which in- treateth of the places, and sheweth a way how to pro- vide store of arguments, I have thought good neither fully to folow Aristotle, nor yet anye other that I have scene: for Aristotle's invention scrveth best for uni- versitie men, when a question is brought to some gene- rall issue, as to prove that the backset f is, or is not,
* This term was afterwards introduced by Puttenham into his Arte of English Poesie, and well applied to the odes and odellets of Scothern. f Bachety praedjcalu.-n, con^equens, attributom,
the
345
the sai/what,* the kinde, the properlle, or i'hei?ileerf o? lheforeset."X
Toward the close of this wordy " Forespeach," he complains that both his doings and his name have been misused in a book printed nine years back, and named *' The Philosopher's Game, set foorth by Raphe Lever, and augmented by W. F." This book first "appeared in T562, and was entitled " The pleasaunt and wittie playe of the Cheastes," [Chess,] 8cc. In the following year the title was altered as above, and VV.F. appeared as the author: but the name of Lever is not introduced by Herbert, and perhaps was soon sup- pressed. That Lever was the original composer of the work appears from his own confession: but he justly thou<iht himself discredited and wronfred, that it was published under his name without his knowledge or assent, changing his examples in a hundred places, and committing in each place a manifest error. *' It were therfore to be wished (he adds,) that no man's work should be printed, nor no man's name put to any worke, excepte the partie firstc knew therof, and were welwiiling thereunto; and that they which take in hand to amend or augment another man's writing, should use certain markes whereby cche man's doinn- might appeare by it sclfe. So should cche person beare the report of hys owne desert, whether it were good or bad."
A specimen or two of this conceited author's new devised vulgar terms of Art may not be unamusing.
* Sayivhat,'\z^m\x.\Q. NaysayyWcgiit'.o. Yeasaj, a&xmatio.
■\ Inbeir, acciJens. (Gloscajlal Table).
J Foresetf SLibjcctum, antccsdens. EriJ:jy, concliisio.
^' \V0rde5
34^
. ** Wordes are thus devided. Some signifie a thing that hathe his beeing by itselfe: some signifie a thing that hath his beeing in another.
The firste may be called an inholder : the seconde, an inleer.
A common inholder is sayde of others; but it hathe not hys beeing in another.
A sole inholder is neyther sayde of any other thing besides it selfej nor yet hath his beeyng in any thinor but in itselfe.
A common inbesr is bothe sayde of others; and hathe also his beeyng in oihers too.
A sale inleer hath his beeing in another; but it is not sayde of any other.
Divers kyndes whereof one is not subjecte to another, have sundrye kynreds and sundrie differences, as a wight and an arte.
For the kinredsofa wyghte are man and beaste: but the kinreds of arte are — the arte of numbryng, measuring, witcrafi, speachcraft, starrecrafte, &c. Agayne, the differences of a wight are j^yaZ'/e, goable, swimmahley and creepahle: for one wight differeth from an other by these meanes.
But the differences of artes are, some to teache, to number, measure, speake, reason, and to tell things to come."
In his secorid book of Witcraft we have the follow- ing compend of " Dainty Devises"
"There is a perfect saying, and an unperfect saying.
A perfect saying is devided into three sortes, into a shewsay, a lidsaye^ and a wishsaye. In the first, we shewe or declare; in the seconde, we bid or commandej in the thirde, we wyshe or desire thinges to be or not
to
347
to be : for example, thus, John cometh hether, is a shewsay : come hether John, is a bidsaye : I woulde John came hether, a wishsaye.'*
The author, it seems, intended to treat the public with a second volume of such grave fooleries, but the first may be conjectured to have proved plusquani siifficit. T. P.
Art . III. FoUie's Anatomie : or Saiyres and Satyri- call Epigrams. JVUh a compeyidious history of Ixion's IVheele. Compiled hy Henry Hidton, Dunelmensis. London: Printed for Matheiv IVal- la?ike, and are to he sold at Graies-Inne Gate. 1619. i2mo.
Henry Hutton, we are informed by Wood,* was born in the county palaiine of Diirham, of an ancient and genteel family, passed some time at Oxford, cither as an liospes or aularian, but minding the smooth parts of poetry and romance more than logic, departed it seems without a degree. His only publication is the present, which commences with verses to the reader, " upon the author his kinsman," by H. H. Verses by the author " Ad Lcctores," and " to the v/orthily honor'd Knight, Sir 'i'imothy Hutton." Nine satires follow: the first of which thus glances at the " Abuses stript and Whipt" of Geo. Wither, written probably i^n 1611, t though not published till 1613. They have been fully noticed in Censcra, Vol. II. p. 284.
" I urge
* Atheii. Oxoii. T. 450.
■f This probability I gather from t}u; tolluwiug p.tosngc, in Wither's
" Warning-piece to L'jndcn, d'^chavjcJ out >>f a loop-buic in the T-nvvr j"
ai«] written in i65z.
" i:i
348
■" I urge no time with Whipt stript Satyrs lines. With Furie's * scourge whipping depraved times: My Muse (the' fraught) with such shall not begin T' uncase, unlace, the centinell of sin," &c.
The characteristics of a bravado or town-gallant are thus given.
" Compile a sonnet of your Mistrisse' glove. Copy some odes, t' expresse conceited love : Ride with your sweet-heart in a hackney-coach. Pick quarrells for her sake, set fraies on broach : Use musick's harmony, which yields delight. Under your ladies window in the night. — Black-Friers, or the palace- garden t Beare, Arc subjects fittest to content your eare. An amorous discourse, a poet's wit, Doth humor best your melancholy fit. The Globe to morrow acts a pleasant playj In hearing it, consume the irkesome day. , Goe take a pipe of To ; the crowded stage Must needs be graced with you and your page ; Swcare for a place with each controlling foole. And send your hackney-servant for a stoole."
" In iixlttn hundred ten and one
1 notice took of public crimes ; "With mine own faults I first begun, Observ'd the changes of the times, And what Goi> had on me bestown. Employed for the common good ; Therein I sought to find mine own
Which was so oft misunderstood. That I, 'for being so employ'd, Have been thiee times nigh quite destroy'i'." * In some editions orWither's " Abuses Stript and Wh'pt," the print of a Satyr occurs with a sccarge, and is called Vice's Executioner.
•f Qu. Pails-garden? A noicd place for bear-baiting, near the Globe
theatre in Southwark.
To,
349
7b, is Tobacco, as again appears ia his account of a tippling poetaster.
" Give him a cup of ale, a pipe of To,
And let him to his private study go.
Hee'l breake a jest when he has drunk a gla^se.
Which shall for currant 'mongst tiie tapsters passe;
And rime to any word you can propound,
Although a metre for it nere were found;
Write pasegyrlcks in the praise of 's friend.
Make compleat verses on his fingers end.
He has a subject he did late invent.
Will shame the riming sculler. Jack a Lent: *
'Tis writ in print; perhaps you'l see't anon,
'Twas made of Robin Hood and Little John;
'Twil be discover'd er't be long, and lye
Under the bottome of a pippin-pye."
The following lines m the same satire refer to Sir John Harington's ''Metamorphosis of Ajax/'f alias a Jakei,
" Jack out of office wee ere long shall finde Ith' house of office, being mew'd, confinde; Well tliough it be, yet for the Muses' sakes Hee'l pen a pithie tractate of A-jax : I wish he would reserve A-jax in minde; 'Twill serve but for A-jax, and come behinde."
I proceed to give a few selected specimens of the sa- tirical Epigrams, which are in number 60.
* " Jack a-Lent his beginning and entertainment,'" &c. was one of the multitudinous skits of John Taylor, the Water-poet. See Cens. Lit. VI.
375-
•j- This very laughable but indelicate piece of pleafantry, was printed in 1596, and occasioned such displeasure in the royal circh, thut the author ■was forbid the court for writing it. Vide Nugae Antiquae, I xii.
" Malsters
35^
" Malsters ill measure. Ep. 3.
" Such Malsters, as ill measure sell for gaine. Are not mere knaves, but also knaves in grain."
" De Equisone. Ep. 4.
** Can Equiso be wavering as the winde ? Faith, no: for he is of a stable kind."
" An action of the case,
" Shouldring a minstrell in a lane, I broke
His violl's case by an unlucky stroke;
Who swore he would complain to vent his grudge:
And what care I what any law will judge:
For why? — I will maintaine it, face to face,
'T can be no more but th' action of the case.'*
" Ep. 17.
*' A cuckold is a dangerous beast. Why so ? Nam cornuferit ille : caveto."
" De Vinoso. Ep. 18.
" Vinosus is a verbe, his person's good. And must be form'd in the potential mood ; In which sole mood we find each drunken man: For commonly they're known by the sign can."
** De Conspicilio. Ep. 29.
" An aged man which spectacles did use. Having them filcht, begun one time to muse. Fearing the thiefe would not his sights restore, But rather plot how to deceive him more. ^ Feare not, said one, the matter is but light. And ten to one, but they will come to sight."
The following turn from Martial has been very similarly rendered by Harington and by Prior.
"In
351
" In Leshiam. Ep. 38. " The sanguine dye of Lesbla's painted face Is often argued for a doubtful case : The color's hers, she swears; (not so some thought it) And true she swears: for I know where she bought it."
" De Milone. Ep. 49. " Milo doth vaunt he's strong, and yet contends To take the wall of open foes and friends. Then sure he's weake who will in discord fall For it J sith none but weakest go to tli wall."
" In Gulam. Ep. 60. " Base Gula, with his teeth and nails doth teare The commons which he eateth any where: Now we may say — what Gula doth assayle. He will accomplish it with tooth and nail."
*^ Ixlon's Wheele" is the well-known mythological fiction drily versified. A single stanza will serve to shew the metre and the author's prodigal use of legal terms in the courts or the Muses.
" Suppose that earth impannel'd a grand quest. And that the barre of law should reach this act :
It would be thought a queere at the best, Sith affidavit of our conceal'd fact
Could not be made, whiles of each god's known shame
A sempiternall probate shall remaine."
The volume is closed by a ** postscript to the af- fecting printer:" but, as the book is scarce, I have already given such parts of it as will best endure tran- scription. T. P.
Art. IV. Propositio Clarissimi Oratcris+ Magis- tri Johannis Russell decretorum doctoris ac adlunc
Amhassiatoris
352
Amlassialoris xpianissimi Regis Edwardi det gracia regis JngLie et Francie ad illiistrissimu principem. Karolum ducem Burgundie super shs- ceptione ordinis garlerij zc. + .
This rare and extraordinary article, printed by Cax- ton, was discovered in a volume, that seems to have been a common-place book of some literary scribe at the infancy of printing. It is printed on four leaves, quarto, beginning at the second side; the first page having ar lines; pages 2, 3, 4, with 22 lines each, and page 5 only 12 lines. The remainder of the volume, containing about 140 leaves, is in manuscript. A portion is written on vellum, and, by a careful distri- bution, made to preserve the whole: from any injury in gathering and binding.
It would be injustice to the discoverer not to give his own *' reasons for supposing the oration to be printed by Caxton," which are to the effect following. " On refer- ring to the typographical antiquities by Herbert, it ap-^ pears that Caxton was appointed by a commission from Edward IV. in 1464, jointly with Richard Whetehill, to conclude a treaty of trade and commerce between that monarch and Philip Duke of Burgundy; whose son, Charles the bold, married Margaret (Edward's sister) in 1468. That Caxton resided at the court of the Duke of Burgundy also appeajs by the prologue to the Recuyel of ike history es of Troy, translated by him from the French, by command " of the ryght hye, myghty, and vertuose Prynccsse, hys redoubted lady, Margarete, by the grace of God, Duchesse of Bourgoyne, of L,otryk, of Braband, &c. whyche sayd translacion" was begun at Bruges, March Tst, 1468, and finished at Cologne, Sept. 19th, 147 1, and there
printed.
353
fjrinted. The certificate of Charles Duke of Burgundy receiving the order of the garter is dated Febfy 4th, 146 ) — " Charles par le Grace de Dieii Due de Bour- gogne, &c. Certifions et faisons scavoir a tous que par le Maitis de Messire Galliard Signeur de Duras, Che- valier Thomas Vaghan Tresorier de la Chambre, Maister Jehan Russell Docteur en Decret Archt diacre de Berkshire et larreteir Roi d'Armes conseilliers et Amhassadeurs de treshault et tres puissant Prince Ed- ward, &c. Sec. — Donnie en nostre Ville de Gand soulz nestre Grant seel le 4 jour de Fevrler 1' An de Grace 1469."* At a ceremony, not only of English origin, but performed by Englishmen, a natural presumption arises that Caxton would of course be present; and that as he was then engaged in various literary pursuits, out of compliment to his countryman, John Russel the orator, and acting under the immediate sanction and patronage of the Duchess, he would produce a speci- men of his art either as a curiosity of itself, or in com- pliment to the ceremony, and perpetuating; an eulogium upon an order of which her brother and his royal master was sovereign. The types are similar with those used by Caxton in printing *' the Dictes and Sayeings of the Philosophers," and expressly the same + is used, as appears at the conclusion of some of the sentences in that work."
These observations are supported upon minutely ex- amining the other paris of the volume. The selections are principally in Latin, from the writings of Richard Hampole the hermit, and the legend of Saint Kathe- rine; two or three short pieces of English poetry, and
• Appendix te Ashmole's Order of the Garter, p. 114.
TOL. nil. A. A one
354
one in prose, noticed in the following article. The writing and paper marks are certainly of Caxton's period.
The volume is in the possession of the Marquis of Blandford, whose collection contains many other speci- mens of the early printers. A full account of the work may be expected in Mr. Dibdin's new edition of the Typographical Antiquities.
Conduit street. J. H,
Art. V. The xli profyles of trihulacyon [on a riband over a square wood-cut filling the remainder of the page. Subject, our Saviour on the cross, small in figure, with blank label over; on the right, in front, an angel in kneeling posture pointing to him; behind, a man with heads of two animals on his left, and three women on the other side; a small figure be- neath supporting a curtain with a man and woman thereon; probably to represent a thing past, as the betrothment of Joseph and Mary, small label side- ways, blank; on the other side the cross Mary Magdalen, before her a sick man in bed, blank label crossing same; a demon on the earth in front with another blank label and a tower in the distance. Colophon.] Thus endeth this treaty se, shewing the Xli p'fytes of trihulacyon. Imprynted at Lou- don in Flete strete, at the sy^ne of the some, by IVynJtyn de JVorde. Theyere of our lordM.CCCCC, XXX, the xxviij day of May e. [On the following page the printer's device in three compartments, viz. I, An irradiated sun central of two blazing stars with lesser ones black. 2. Caxton's small sign.
3. " Wynkyn
3^5
3* " Wynkyn de Worde" on twisted riband, grey- hound couchant, sagittariu.'? with arrow discharged; a rose central with border of leaves at bottom; the whole square on a white ground.] 4^0. 20 leaves.
Upon a casual inspection of the Caxtonic volume, T discovered among the pieces in manuscript a copy of the first article in this work, varying in several points of orthography, and apparently of an earlier period. This coincidence seems sufficient proof of the above collection being made prior to printing the Profits of Tribulation. There is another edition by W. de Worde, without date.* For the purpose of comparison the manuscript (omitting abbreviations) is given at the bottom of the following pages.
At the back of the title — " ^ Here begyneth a lytell short treatyse that tellcth how there were vij f mays- ters assembled togider, euerychone asked other what thynge they myght best speke of that rayght please God & were moost profytable to y*^. people. And all they were accorded to speke of tribulacyon. J
'* The fyrst mayster sayd, that yf ony thynge had ben better to man lyuynge in this worlde than tribu lacyon, God wolde haue gyue it to his sone; but for he sawe well there was no thynge better than it, thcrfore he gaue to hym 8c made hym to suffre moost tribu- lacyon in this wretched worlde more than dyd euer ony man, or euer shall. § ^ The secd"de mayster sayd,
that
• Herbert, 206. The present ecrrion urnoticed by ihat editor. f Sic.
X VJ. Vertuou-- questions and thanswers e:isuyt:, the which vj holy and wysc clerks assemblid to gedyr in the covrte of Rome ; which was asshid «nd answerd by eusryche to other.
§ The first clerk said, that and if any manor thyng in this worlde had
Benn bettir thann tribulacoun vnto mankynde, God the fader of hevyn wolde
A A 2 haue
85^
that yf there were ony man in this world y'. might be w' out spot of synne as our lord was Sc myght lyuc XXX yeres (Sc it were possyhle) without meet or dr\nke, & also were so deuoute in prayers that he myght speke w'. au gels in the ayre, as dyd Mary Mawdelync, yet myght he not deserue in that lyfe so great meile as a man destruelh in suffry^ge a lytel tribulacyo~.* f The thynle mayster savd that yf it so were that y=. mother of god &: all y'^. savntes of heuen prayed all for one man, vet shold they not gete hy"" so moche mede ne so great as he sholde gete hymselfe by mekenes in suf- frynge a Ivtel tribulacio'.f f The fourth mayster sayd, we worshyp the crosse, for our lorde henge therevpon bodvly, but I save we shold rather & by more ryght & reason haue in mynde the tribulacyon y'. he suffred there vpon the crosse for our gylies & our trespaces. %
haue gevjnn hit to his soon Crist Jcihus. And for by cau-~- :her wa» nothyng bettir, therfor he gsye it to hym, and made hym to suffir mooste tribulacoun in this wretchid worlde. And thus this flrjt clerk provir, that Uriotilacoun is mcs honourable to maun aiid also moost merituiyous if it patietuly be takynn.
♦ The seconde malstet said, thst if there w?re any main that my^ht be wit oiit jpott as our Saviour Crist jeshus waf, and that he myght lyve here XXX yeris wit out mete or drynk, yf it poss.ble so were, and were so devouts in praying that he myght speke wit angels in the ayer as Mary Magdalen dyd, yit myzte he not deserue in that life so grete mede as dooth a mann which suffrith patiently tri>)ulacouh.
-t" The thrid maister saide, that if so were that Mary godds moder and all the seynts in hevyn prayed all for o«nn mann, yit shuld they not gete hym so muche mede as a mann may gete to hymself by mekenes in sufFryng here a title tribulacoun, mckely and patiently.
J The iiij th maister said, we do worshi pp the holy crosse for that oui lord go Cr'st Jeshu hangyd ther vppon hym:ilfe bodily, bu' I say and depose for certeyne that we shtild rathir by muche more right and reisoun haue in mynde the tribulacoun which he pituouily sufFrii thorvppoun for our gylt and creipata
fThe
SS7
% The fyfth maystcr sayu, I had leuer be of myght 8c strength 8c of power to suiTre the leest y^ayne of tribu- lacyon • '. our lorde suffred here in erth w'. mekenes in herle than the mede or the revvarde of all worldly goodesj for as saynt Peter sayth, that none is worthy to haue tribu'iicyon without errour; for iribulacyon qaencheth synne 8c it lerneth a nian to kno-v y^. pre- uvtees of god, 8c tribulacyon niaketh a man to knowe hy~selfc 8c his euen chrysten, 8j, multiplyeth vertues in a mai:, & purgelh 8c clenseth hym ryght as fyre doih golde. And what man that mekely in hert suffreth tribulacyon ^nd is w'. hym 8c bereth ihai heuy charge with hyn> of tribulacyon, 8c tribulacion b\eth aga) n time that was lost, ^ holdeih a man in the waye of ryghtwvsnes, and of all gyftes y^ got' gyueth to man, tribulacyon is the nioost worthyest gyft. Also it is treasour, to y^. whyche no man may make comparyson, 8c tribulacyon ioynelh mannes soule vn!o god. * f[ Now asketh the syxth master why we suffre tribu- lacyon with so euyll wyll, and it is answered and sayd for thre thynges. The fyrst is, for we haue lyteli lone
* The V**!. said I had tevir be of somuche power and stien;^the !o he leest payne of ti ibulacoun thar oure l(>rd Jtshu Crist suftrid heie with meke- ijesse of berte, therm mede of the revvarde of al worldly goodis; for seyiit Petre saith, that ther is ne persone worthy to haue tribulacoun but onel> he wllich desireth it with a clene herte, for tribulac^vin ouercomyth syn, and it techith a munn to know riie prpueteea of Go': and forto kenn hymself and his evynn Christenn ; and it multipli'th greti- virtu in a mann, and it perogith and clensith a mann, like as the fire pergith and trielh golde, and whosoeuer mekely sufFrith tribulacioun, god is with hym, and with hym beiith that charge of the tribulacoun ; and tribulacoun hiilpith ageyne tyme that is loste and holdith a mann in the wey of rightwisnes, and of all :he gyfts that God gevich to naankynde in this world;, tribulacoun is the moost worohupfull, and it is the tresour of the which no mann may make compari- soun, and tribulacoun ioyneth a mann to god.
A A 3 to
358
to our lordc Jesu Chryst. The seconde is, for we thynke lytell of the great mede that cometh therof. The thyrde is, that we thynke full lytell or nought of y*^ bytter paynes and the great passyon that our lorde sutFred for vs in redenipcyoa of our synnes, and to brynge vs to the blysse that neuer shall haue ende. Amtn." *
This is sufficient specimen of the whole work. A short unentitled dissertation in Latin follows, then the prologue to the "Twelve Profits of Tribulation," and that divided into the like number of chapters.
Conduit- street. J. H.
The
Art. VI. Certaine Matters composed together.
Genealogie of all the Kings of Scot'and, their I'ues, the yeares of their coronation, the time of their reigne, the yeare of their deathj ani manner thereof, with the place of their buriall. Whole Nobili tie of Scotland, their suinaaaes, their 'if'.es of honour,
the names of their chief houses, and their marriages. Arch^bibhoppricks, Bishoppritks, Abbacies, Priories, and Nunne- ries of Scotland. 1 Knights of Scotland.
Forme of the oath of a Duke, Earle, Lord of Parliament, and of a
Kni-ht. Names of the Barronnc, Lairdes, and chiefe Gemtle-men in euery
shirefdome. Names of the principall Clannes and Surnames of the Bourders, not landed.
• Nowe asshith the vj**;. maister why we suffi: tiibulacoun w*. so evill will • he answerth for iij cajjsis. The first is for that we haue so litle love to •'od the seconde is for that we thenk iitle of the grete mede that comyth to vs therior. The thiid is for that we thenk litle of the bitter payn and pas- eioun which Crist Jeshu suffrid for vs in the redempcion for to bryng vs to his blissc. And thus may we see verily by the determynacoun of allethies six coonyng clerks that tho. which suffir mekely tribulacoun shall haue grete honoure proffite and lawde of all myghty god, which for so dooyng grauntith tii'e mede tf the euerlastyng blisse of hevyng, to the which god bryng vs alle.
Amen,"
Stewartrits
369
/■ Stewartries and Bayliciies of Scotland. _, ) Order of the calli :g of the Table of the Session.
J Descriptir-n or wh.Ie Scotland, with all the Jits, and names thereol. V Must rare and wondertuU things in Scotland.
[as they were An". Domi. 1597. edit. Lond.] Edinlvrgh: Printed by Robert Walde grane Prcnier to the Khig's Najestie. Cum Priuilegio Rea-io. [Reprinted a London 160.;.] 4/0. 48 leaves.
This little rare historical and typographical tract ap- pears to have been printed witriOut da;e. This copy has the autograph of (Sir) " Roofer T.vvsden, 1623," by V hose pen the several adciiiiotis to the title, ^^c. were probably made, and sufficient if nut conclusive authority to consider it printed as early as 1597. The contents are accurately given in the title. The genealogy of kings commences with F'ergus, crowned 330 A. C and concludes with N°. 108 J;unes 6 h. The nobility consists of one Duke, viz. " Lodovick Stewart, Duke of Lennox, married the second sister of lohn Ruth- vene, Erie of Gowray that now is ; his chief house Cruikstone. [Whose second wife, Francis Houard, daater of Vicount Byndon, widow first of
Prannel, and after of Edward Erie of Hertford, and now of Lodowick Steward D. of Richmond and Lennox who died 162.]"* Twenty four Earlo, and thirtv three Lords, six of them " Lordships newlie erected, since the yeare 1537.' The state of ilie clergy, two archbishops; eleven byshops; twenty nine abbeys; fourteen priories and six nunneries. Sixty four knights; then the oath of a Duke, of a Lord of Parliament, and
« The Oath of a Knight. I. I shall fartifie and defend the Christian religion,
• MS. addition.
• A A 4 and
$6o
and Christe's holy Evangell, presently preached in this realme, to' the vttermost of my power.
2. I shalbe leill and true to my soverane Lord the King's Majestie, to all orders of Chieualiy, and to the noble office of arnies.
2. I shal fortifie and defend lustice at my power, and that without flavour or feed.
4. I shall never flie from my soverane Lord, the Kingc's Majesiie, nor from his Hienes Lieutenants in time of mellav, and battell.
5. I f^hall c'efendemy qatiue realme, from all allieners and strangers.
6. I shall defend the just action and quarrell of al ladies of honour, of all true and friendles widdowes, of orphelings and of maidens of good fame.
7. I shall do diligence, where soever I heare there is any murthers, traytours, or masterfuU Reavers that oppresseth the King's lieges, and pure people, to bring them to the lawe at my power.
8.' I shal maintaine and vphold the noble estate of chevalrie, with horse, harnes, and other knightly abill- zements; and shall help and succour them of the same order at my power, if they haue neede.
9, I shall enquyre and seke to haue the knowledge and vnderstanding of al the articles arid points con- tained in the book of Chievallry.
All these premisess to obserue, keepe, and fulfil, I oblesse me, so helpe me God, by my owine hand, so helpe me God, Sec."
" The names of. the Barons, Lairds, and chiefe Gentlemen in every Shriefdome," and "the names of the principall Clannes and Surnames on the Bordours not landed, and chiefe men of name amongst them, at ^his present," occupy, in double columns, seventeen
pages,
S6i
pages, accurately classed by resklences, and a valuable assistant'to boruiT history.
A descrii>tioii of the division of Scotlan J, with topo- graphic notices, is succeeded b\ thit " of the YIes of Scotland, in geiieraH," where the following strong de- lineation i'=? given of the inhabitants of the Hebrides.
" Tn ^ d, ravment, and all things perteyning to their family, they vse the auncient frugality of the Scots; their bankets are hu ting & fishing. They sceth their flesh in the trvpe, or els in the skin of the beast, filling the same full of water. Now & then in huting they strain out the blood, & eats the flesh raw. Their drink is the broth of sodde" flesh. They loue very well the drink made of whey, & keped certain years drink- ing the same at feasts: it is named by ihem llandm. The most part of the" drink water. Their eiistome is to jnake their bread of oates & barlie, (which are the onlie kyndes of graine that growe in those partes). Experience (wiih time) hath teached them to make it, in such sorte, that it is not vnpleasant to eate. They take a lytle of it in the morning, and so passing to the huntinar. or anie other busines, content themselues therwiih, without anie other kinde of meat till euen. They delight in marled cloathes, speciallie that haue Jong strvpes of sondrie colours. They loue chieflie purple, and blew. Tlveir predecessors vsed short man- tles, or piaides of diuerse colours, sondry waies deuyded, and amongst some, the same custome is obserued to this day : but for the moste part now, they are browne, most near to the colour of the hader: to the effect, when they lye amongst the hader, the bright collour of their piaides shall not bewraie them, with the which (rather coloured than cled) they suffer the most cruell ^empests that blow in the open fielde, in such sort,
that
3^2
that vnder a <vryth of snow they sleepe sound. la their houses also, they ly vpon the ground, laying be- twixt them 8c it, brakens or haclder, thie roots thereof down, and the tops vp, so pretelie 1 lide together, that they are as soft as feaiher-beds, and much more whol- sonie. For the loppes themsclues, are dry of nature, whereby it dryes the weake humoures, and restores again the strength of the sinewes troubled before: & that so evidently, that they who at evening go to rest sore & wearie, rise in the morning whole and able. As none of these people care for feather beddes or bedding, so take they greatest pleasure in rudenes and hardnes. If for their oune commoditie, or vppon necessitie they traucll to any other cuntrie, they reject the feather-beds and bedding of their host j they wrappe themselues in their owne plaids, so taking their rest. Carefull in- deed, least that barbarous delicacie of the maine land (as they tearme it) corrupt their naturall and cuntrie hardnes. The armour wherewith they cover their bodies in time of warre, is an yron bonnet j and an habbergione, syde, almost even to their heels. Their weapons against their enemies are bowes and arrowes. The arrowes are, for the most part, hooked, with an barbie on either syde, which once entered within the bodie, cannot be drawne forth againe, vnlesse the wounde be made wyder. Some of them fight with broad swordes and axes. In place of a drum they vse an bag-pype. They delight much in musicke, but vpon harpes and clairschoes, of their owne fashion. The strings of the clairschoes are made of brasse wyar, and the strings of the harps of sinewes : which strings they etryke either with their nayles, growing long: or • else with an instrument appointed for that vse. They take great pleasure to deck their harps and clairschoes
with
3^3
with siluer and precious .stones : and poore ones, that cannot attaine hereunto, deck them with christall. They sing verses- pretiilie compound, containing (for the most part) pravses of vahaunt men. There is not aUnost atiie other argument, whereof iheir rymes en- treat. They speake tlie ancient French language aUered a htlle."
" 1 he yles lying abovt Scotland that speak the aun- cient language called the West Yles," contains a brief account of the Isles of Man, Orkney, Hethland, Sec. interspersed with several incidental anecdotes and re- lations. The volume concludes with '* a memorial of the most rare and wondcrfull things in Scotland." A &loih-hound and the claik-geese are thus described.
" In the south of Scotland, specially in the cuntries adjacent to England, there is a dog of marvelous nature, called the suth-hound; because, when as hee is certi- fied by words of art spoken by his master, what goods are stolne, whether horse, sheep or neat; immediately, hee addresscth him suthly to the sent, and followeth with great impetuositie, through al kind of ground and water, by as many ambages as the theeues haue vsed, til he attaine to their place of residence: by the benefit of the which dog, the goods are recovered. But nowe of late he is called by a newe popular name, the sleuth" hoiind: because when as the people do line in sleuth and idlenes; and Neither by themselues, or by the office of a good herd, or by the strength of a good house, they do preserue their goods from the incursion of theeues and robbers ; then haue they recourse to the dog, for reparation of their sleuth."*
* Li'wis, in his History of Great Britain, 1729, has copied this account. Sec Maitlai)d's Poems, edited by Pinkerton, p 423.
*♦ In
3^4
" In the north seas of Scotland are great clogges of timber founde, in the which are marvelouslic ingen- dered a sort of geese, called clayk-geese, and do hang by the beck, til they be of perfection, oftymcs found and kept in admiration for their rare forme of gene- ration.
** At Dumbartan, directly vnder the castie, at the mouth of the riuer of Clyde, as it enters into the sea, there is a number of claik-geese black of colour, which in the night time do gather great quantity of the crops of the giasse, growing vppon the land, and carries the same to the sea. Then they assemble in a round, and with a wondrous curiositie, do offer euery one his owne portion to the sea floode, and there attends vpon the flowing of the tyd., till the grasse be purified from the fresh taste, and turned to the salt, and least any part thereof should. escape, they labour to hold it in with labour of the nebbes. Thereafter orderlie every fowle eates his portion. And this costome they obserue per- petually. They are very fatte, and very delicious to bee eaten."*
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. VII. An Answere to a Romish Rime lately printed^ and entituled, a proper new Ballad^ wherein are contayned Catholike questions to the Protestant. The which Ballad was put foorth without date or day, name of authour or printer ,
* Clalk geese, barnicle, " The shell here meant is the Icpas anatifera, Lin. S\st. 668. The animal that inhabits it is furnlthed with a feathered beard ; which, in a credulous agC} vas believed to be part of the young bird." Pennant's Zool. p. 578.
llhellr
3^5
libell-likej scattered and sent abroad, to luithdraw the simple from lUe fayth of Christ, vnto the doc- trine of Antichrist the Pope rf Rome. Written by that Protestant Catho/ike, I. R. They that sit in the gate, speake against me, and the drunkards make songs vpun me. Psal. Ixix. 12. Dearely leloued, beleeue not euery spirit, but trye the spirits whether they be of God, or no : for many false prophets are gone out into the world, i John iv. i. Answers a foole according to his foolishnes, lest he be wise in his own conccyte. Prouerbs xxvi. 5. Imprinted at London by Simon Stafford, dwelling in Hosier Lane, neere Smithjielde. i6oa. 4^0. ao leauts.
A short prose address " to the indifferent readers, be they I'rolestants, Papists, orneyther;" states, the writer '* log ci her with others in a search, found some good Fuf:l;oh hookes, and some two or three English pauiphleis of aiiotlicr stampeand nature, viz. a Popish rosary ot pr;:, ct.s, ?.nd diucrs Popish pictures in it, circled al>oui with the forme of beads, as if all were the holyer. th ;^ cunes within that compasse. We found there amo~g 0/ er things also, a toy in rime, entituled, a projier new Ballad, wherein are ceriaine Catholike qnestitins (for so he termc th them) to the Protestant. Onelv of zeale tn the trueth, and of louc to such simple soules, as nnght be snared with such petty bayts a^ this ballad is, T haue takr':i a little paynes in answering the same as well as I could, being a man of small skill to meddle in greater matters. — There are many such pamphlets, together with other like Romish wares, that are sent abroad among the common people, both Pro- testants
366
testants and Papists in London and in the coiintrev, & that by certaine women brokers and pedlers (as of late in Staffordshire there was) who with baskets on their armes, shal come and offer you other wares vnder a colour, and so sell you these, where they see and know any likelyhood to vtter them. — 1 will shewe you how I haue dealt and ordered things in the answering hereof. First, I founde it set to no certaine tune: but because it goeth mof^t neere to the oldc tune of Labandalashot, therefore T haue made, that all may be sung to that tune if neede be. Secondly, the authour of this ballad, his skill seemed to me to be as bad in poetrv a? in di- winity, and therefore I am hprcin driueti sometimes tr> adde and abbreuiate the authours particular words, but I faile him not a iote for his owne sense and false meaning: let this bee considered of therefore of all men. Thirdly, this ballad-monger hath deuided his vvorke into 9 principall parts of heads.' and I observe them in a sort, as shall appear by the fioures set before euery part. Fourthly, wheras the conclusion of the ballad is long, I giue him leaue to goe it throuo-h, and then I followe him with mine answere all tocrether: and so with my epilogue, and a short song of Popery, made long agoe in scorn of Papist's foolery, I end, re- ferring the rer-ders for further satisfaction in this point to M. Crowly his booke which is an answere in prose to the like question, printed 1588. Your's in the ]Lorde I. R."
Then follows " a pretty fine answere to a Romish Rime, entituled, a proper newe ballad, &c. to the tune of Labandalashot." The original is given in twenty- four stanzas, Roman type, and the answer in forty-six stanzas, black letter.
''The
Z^1
" The Papist's Complaint,
" Many and sundry sects appeare
no'-v in the world both farre and neere: Tiic Protestant, the Puritan,
the Calufinist, and Zwinglian, Ihe Browhist, and the family of loue,
and many mo that I can proue: Besides the L'omanc fith trnelyj
which Protsstants call Papistry. All these arc Chri'-t's true chuich, they say,
but now on which shall my soule slay ?"
" The Protestant's Ansivcre.
"Strange sects there are, and so will be.
the churche to trye in eche degree . But for the most of them you name
they are not worthy of that blame. The Brownist he is punished ;
the familists from vs are fled: If we were rid of Papists too,
both kingdoms t.hould haue lesse to doo. * And you that will of sects complayne,
shew which by law we doe mainlaync."
These controversial poets attract notice by the jcarcitv of their works, rather than nny interest arising from their flow of numb' rs. Toucliing heretikes and schismatiks the Papist sa\ a :
" Yet in sheepe's clotljin^ there doe goe, because God's people sliould 'lOt knowe.f
But that they nre h.s p;isto-s sme,
which Christ has se t, wiih d c rine pure
• That is, England ai.d !re!and. -f And like v^lde ruUiiiat>, sw4sh-bucK.lers or cauilkrs.
To
368
To teach, to preach, to set and sowe,
that Christ in th' end might reap & Tno\(ri
But when their seeds are somewhat sprung, they prove but tares and darnell young.
Thistles and thornes so are they found, choking and cumbering the ground."
The Protestant in reply all edges,
" Your doctrine is but darnell sure,
vnto this graine, God's word so pure^ What is the chafie vnio the wheat ?
what is man's wit to wisdorae great ? Your gold is brasse, your siluer tinne,
your teaching drosse, your deeds but sinne.
The darnel of these passages may entitle them to notice in some future edition of Shakspeare, where there are many wild weeds of similar growth.
In a prose epilogue of one page the author describes himself as having " postingly run ouer this Romish Rime, as a priest doeth his ma^se and mattens, when he hath haste another way." On a distinct leaf fol- lows the short song made long ago, which is given more from curiosity than merit.
" A merry song, and a very song.
*' Sospitati pickt our pune with Popish illusio. Purgatory, scala coeli, pardons cum lubilio, Pilgrimage-gate, where Idules sate with all abominatio, Chaonon, Fryers, common lyers, that filthy geneiatio, Nunnes hulins;, pretty puling, as cat in milke-pannio : See what knauerie was in Monkerie, and what superstitio; Becking, belling, ducking, yelling, was their whole religio. And when women came vnto them, fewe went sine fiiio. But Abbeyei all are now downe fall, dei beneficio,* And we doe pray day by day, that all abominatio
may come to desolatio. Amen."
Conduit street. J- H.
» From this line it may be considered a composition temp. Hen. VIII.
Art.
3^9
Art. VIII. ^ most excellcnf and learjied vvaorke of Chinirgerie, called Chirurgia parua Lanfranci, Lavfranke of Mylayne his brief e: reduced from dyiiers translations to our vulgar or vsuall frase, a?id 710W first published in the Englyshe prynte by lohn Halle, Chirurgien. IVho hath thervnto neces- sarily annexed^ a table, as luel of the names of diseases and simples with their vertues, as also of all other termes f the arte opened. Fery profitabU for the better vnderstanding of the same, or other like workes And in the ende a compendious worke of AnaJomie, more vtile and profitable, then any here tofore in the Englyshe tongue pully shed. An historiall expostvlation also against the beastly abusers, both of Chyrurgerie and Phisicke iii our tyme: with a. goodly doctrine, and instruction, necessary to bemarlcdandfolou/ed of all true Chi- rurgies — All these faithfully gathered, and dili- gently set forth, by the say de lohn Halle. Imprinted at London in Flete streats, nyylie unto Saint Dun- stones churche, by Thomas Marshe. An. 1565. 4/0.
At the back of the title wood-cut of the author in an oval, a fancy border, date in small comparttnent over portrait 1564; in a larger beneath, " 1. H. anno, setatis suae, 35;" on same page initials R M prefixed to four lines Latin; on a small slip of paper " fn Ef- figiem lohannis Halli Chirurgi Rodolphi M. Carmen," eight lines same. On the following pige '* The bookes verdict," in seven quatrains. The Epistle is addressed '^Vnto the VVorshipfvl theMaisters, War- dens, and consequently to all the whole company and VOL. VIII. B B brotherhood
370
brotherhood of Chlrurgiens of London, lohn Hall, one of the leste of them, sendeth hartie and louynge salu- tation," where it is asserted that for one chirurgeon having served an apprenticeship or one physician tra- vailed in study and exercise in physick, " there are tenne that are presumptious sniearers, smaterers, or abusers of the same: yea, smythes, cutlers, carters, coblers, copers, coriars of lether, carpenters, and a great rable of women," who forsake handicraft to abuse physick. * An address from " VV. Cvningham, Doctor in Phisique," dated from his " howse in Col- ma strete this xviii daye of Aprill, Anno M.D Ixv." Another by "Thomas Gale, Maistcr in Chirurgcrie," dated from his " house in London, the 14 daye of May, Anno 1565." Four octave stanzas addressed "to the louing readers," is also apparently by Gale. A pre- face from '* L H to the louyng readers greting in our cternall Lorde, the author of all knowledge," lament- ing amongst other things " that so many sheepe heades, vnwytty, vnlcarned, vnchaste, ribaudes, leche- ours, fornicators, dronkardes, belygoddcs, beastly glut- tons, wrathfull, enuious and euell manered, shall ttiu3 myserably be suffred to abuse so noble an arte." In- troductory matter, sixteen leaves j part first in nine
• The original of Lanfrank is stated in this dedication to have beea «* translated out of Frenche into the olde Saxony englishe, about two hun- dred yeres past. Which I haue nowe not only reduced to our vsuall tpeache, by change nj or newe translating suche wordes, as now be inuete- rate, and growne our of knowledge by processe o. tyme, but also conferred my labours in this behalf with other copies, both in Frenche and latin : namely with maister Bacter, for his latine copie, and Symon Hudle for his fre'ch copie, and other English copies ; of the which I had one of Ichn Chi"L>er, & an other of John Yates bcth very auncient, with other mo: whose good heipe hath nut a little farthered me in the^e thinges."
' chapters ;
371
thaptera; Second, fifteen chaptefs; third, three chapters; fourth, two chapters; fifth, eighth chapters. "The Antidotarie conteinynge xi chapiters," and conckision, with necessary table, in all thirty-nine leaves. New title;
An exposiliue tabic after the order of the Alphabet^ wherin is declared all stran'^ewordes, with also the names and natures of diseases and symples, by anye Occasion treated of in t/njs morke of Lanfranke, gathered by lohn Halle, Chirurgien. Very com- modious to the vse of all prcfssors of the medici- nall arte, and espcciallye to the Apothecaries that are desirous of perfecte knowledge in symples. Back of the title,
" Nomen authoris, sub his atractiUs Jacet.
" If reason riiaye the iusticebe
Of this my minde, the truthe to trye:
Howe can ther be dispaire in me. No truthe sithe reason, can denye.
Happye it is, when men esterae: All one in truthe, the same to tellj
Let no man voyde, of reason' deme: Lesle he agaynste the truthe rebell."
On the next page " A probeme to the readers of thys table," concluding with four quatrains by the translatour; a prose address from his brother " Tho- ' mas Halle to the gentle readers that thirste for sci- ence;" ten quatrains, without title, signature "Ihon Yates, Chirurgien;" and the like quantity of Escu- lapian numbers unentitled by " Thomas Halle."*
* Neither Gale, Yates, or T. Hall, are mi'ntioned by Ritson, who proba- bly only saw the imperfect notice of the work ia Herbert, 854.
B B 2 Introduction
572
Introduction seven leaves. The interpretative table occupies seventy -two leaves, having the following lines on the last page,
" Though enuie me accuse,
In suche as wyll dysdayne: It cannot make me muse.
Nor nothyng vexe my brayne.
For they that doo misuse.
Their tongues in suche a case: Wyll styll them- selues abuse.
In runnyng of that rase.
But reason is myne ayde, ,
To take my cause in hande •: And 1 nothyng afrayde.
With hir in place to stande.
Hauyng my hope so stayde,
That those that lyste to rayle, Wylbe ryght sore dismayde.
When reason shall preuaylc.
For truthe by reason strong,
Wyll haue the vpper hand : When enuie vyle and wronge.
Shall fayntly flee the lande.
And truthe hath alwaye been,
A daughter vnto tyme: Whiche as it hath been seen,
Detecteth euery cryme."
A necessary index of seven leaves concludes this portion of the volume. Then follows a head title to
An historicall expostvlaiion ; against the heastlye abusersy lothe of Chyrurgerie, and Physyke, in our tyme: with a goodlye dociryne, and instruction,
necessarye
2>n
necessary e to he marked, and Jhlowed, of all true Ckirurgiens : gathered by lohn Hallcj Chyrurgeon.
This is levelled against the inconsistency of relying on ignorant quacks, the fallacious doctrine of the uri- nal, and the absurd pretensions of those who com- bine a smattering of physick with the dark system of magic to delude the ignorant and unwary. Seve- ral characters of that description which appeared at Maidstone and other places, with the result of their knavish duplicity, are set forth ; " a monstrous le- gende," says the author, "should I make, if I should here recite all suche, as I haue knowne and heard of. But if any man would know more, of the doynges of these deceyuers and runnegates, let hym reade a little booke, called a Galley lately come into Englande from Terra Nona, laden with phisitions, apothecaries, and chirurgiens, &cc. The author whereof I knowe not. Also let them reade a little worke, entitulcd a poesie, made in forme of a vision, &:c. lately imprinted. Also let them reade the verses ofMaistcr Bullcyne, in his Bulwarkej in the dialogue betwene Sorenes and Chi- rurgery, where he ryghte truly and pleasantly descri- beth them in their ryght colours." * A gathering of *' the councels, and good documents, of dyuers good and veterate authores," is formed into English verses, to the number of fifty four, homely and technically disposed quatrains. A religious exhortatory address in prose, with four incidental prayers, concludes this part
* BuUein's Bulwark is moiitioned by Herbert, p. 834. If the other pieces are noticed is not ea' ily ascrrtaii.ed, frum the want of an index to that Cflitor's work, of matter as well as men. The examining above eighteen hundred pages is too great a task to 1 e performed on every slight occasion.
B B 3 in
374
in twenty-three leaves. A list of errors at the end is preceded hy the following lines as ^n apology j
" Our miserle and fraile estate
In nothing is declared more. Then in our errors rathe and late;
That chance when least we loke iherforc.
Yea and also whiche yet is more. We many times put faultes in vre, When from them we our selues thinke sure,
Wherfore sith it is destinate. And none can clerely it wiihstande,
'V^'ith lone and wi'.h most friendly rate. Before to rede t hou take in hande This worke, let all the faultes be scan'de.
And by this rule the same redresse,
Leste faultes good frutes to muche oppresse."
Conduit street. J. H.
Akt. IX. The Art of lugling or Legerdemaine. Wherein is deciphered, all the conueyances of Le- gerdejnaine and lugling, how they are effected ^ wheiin they chiefly consist. Cautions to beware of cheating at Gardes and Dice; the detection of the leggerly art of Alcumistry, ^ the foppery of foo- lish cousoning charmes; all tending to mirth and recreation, especially for those that desire to haue the ijisight and priuate practise thereof. By S. R. Quod nnua testa capit Inueterata sapit Printed at London for T. B. and are to lee soldc hy Samuel Rand, neere Holborne- bridge. 1612. 4/0. 24. leaves.
The title of this tract has made it repeatedly con- sidered as written by Robert Greene, an error evident by the following introduction.
"To
375
" To the ingeniovs gentlema?!, and my louing father, Mr. William Bvhh.
" This short conceipt, that I haue writ of late.
To you, kindc father Bvbb, I dedicate.
Not that I meane heereby (good sir) to teach.
For I confesse, your skill's beyond my reach:
But since before with me much time you spent.
Good reason then, lirst fruits I should present:
That thankefull Bird,* that leaves one young behinde^
Ensamples me to beare a thankefull minde :
Vngratefull he, that thankes can not repay
To him, that hath deseru'd it euery way:
Accept (kin<^e sir) my loue, that being doonc,
I aske no more, desire no other boone.
Your lo. Sonne in all loue,
Sa. Rid."
*' To his loving friend and adopted Sonne, Mr. Sa. Rid.
'*MosT Worthy Sonne, " Your labour and obseruance hcerein, with the gift of your first fruits, is both worthy commendations and acceptance: and to cherrish you further in this your discouery, I will glue an addition to your second treatise. So I leaue you to God, and belieue you, not a more louing friend then
William BuBB."t
* •' The nature of this bird is, that buil<iirig her nest vnder the couer of houses (as the swallow doth with vs) leans ever behlnde her for the owner of the house, one young one in token of her thankfulnesse : and as I may say, for pawne of her )ent."
+ Prefixed to " Greene's Metamorphosis" are eighteen lines addressed " to the avthovr, his friend," with the signature of *' Bubb, Gent,"
B B 4
To
^1^
*• To the curteous Reader. There goeth a prety fable of the moone. On a time she earnestly besought her •mother to prouide her a garment comely and fit for her body : how can that bee, sweete daughter, (quoth the mother) sith that your body neuer keepes it selfe' at one staye, nor at one certaine e«tate, but changeih euery day in the month, nay euery houre: the appli- cation heereof nedes no interpretation : fantesie and foolery vvho can please, and desire who can humour, no camelion changeih his cullour as affection; nor any thing so variable a Populus Chorus Fliiuius. — Let such as will needes barke at the moone yell till their hearts ake: Gentle and Gentlemen's spirits, wil take all kindcly that is kindely presented. Your's in loue,S.R."
It is probable this is not the first edition of this work, or the ** first fruits" of the author's pen, according to the language of his adopted father, and which appears at the commencement of the dissertation.
" The Art of lugling or Legerdemaine. Heretofore we haue runne ouer the two pestiferous carbuncles in the common wealth, theEgj'ptians and common Can- ters : the poore Canters we haue canvassed meetely well; it now remains to proceed where I left, and to goe forward with that before I promised; St. Qnintane be my good speede, I know I haue runne thorow the hands of many, censured of diuers, & girded at not of a few: but humanity is euer willinger to loue then hate : curtesie much forwarder to commend then dis- praise: clemency infinitely proner to absolue then to co~demn. Is it not possible to find sauery hearbs amo~g nctles, roses among prickles, berries among bushes, marrow among bones, grain among stubble, and a little come among a great deale of chaffe? In
the
111'
the rankest and strongest poysons, pure and sweet balmes may be distilled, and some matter or other worthy to be remembred may be embraced vvhosoeuer is author. There is nothing so exceeding foolish but hath bene deft-nded by some wise man, nor any thing so passing wise, but hath bene confuted by some fooje: tut, St. Barnard saw not all things, and the best cart may eftsoones ouerthrow. That curl'd-pate Rufus that 2;oes about with Zoylus to carpe and finde fault, must bring the standard of iudgement with him, and make wisdome the moderator of his wit, otherwise they mav be like to purchase to themselues the wor- shipfull names of Dunces and Dottipoles. So much by the way."
Various tricks performed with balls and boxes by jugglers are set forth, but they are not confined to the board of amusement, the frauds and artifice of nefarious characters are described as " how to tell where a stolne horse is become. By means of confederacy Cuthbert Conycatcher, and one Swart Ratter, two that haue taken degrees in Whittmgton college, abused notably the country people, &c."
Under the head of Alchimy is the story from Chau- cer " how an Alcumister cousoned a priest," and a conversation from Petrarch to the same point. The Egyptians are stated to have gathered head in the sou- thern parts of England about 20 Hen. VIII. and that Giles Hather and Kit Calot were known as the King and Queen. The act of Philip and Mary divided their bands or companies into various parts, forming in number about two hundred rogues and vagabonds in a regiment, many of whom suffered under the act, whence they took the name of poor people, and held
their
37^
their meetings occasionally at the Devil's arse a peak in Derbyshire, and at Ketbrooke by Blackheatb. Upon the revival of the statute in the 20th of Eliza- beth they were distributed, when spmc turned pedlars, some tinkers, and some juglcrs.
An amusing story of an Egyptian ass that c^id many curious tricks seems a prelude tc introduce the follow- ing relaaon of a learned horse, (probably alluding to Bankes's,) "at this day to be seene in London; his master will say, sirrah, heere be diners gentlemen, that hauc lost diuers things, and they heare say that thou canst tell them tydings of them where they are; if thou canst, prethee shew thy cunning and tell them; then hurles he down a handkercher or a gloue that he had taken from the parties before, and bids himgiue it the right owner, which the horse presently doth, and' many other pretty feates this horse doth, and some of those trickes as the asse before mencioned did, which not one among a thousand perceaues how they are done, nor how he is brought to learne the same; and note that all the feates that this horse doth, is altogether in numbering; as for ensample, his master will aske him how many people there are in the room? The horse will pawe with his foote so many times as there are people: and marke, the eye of the horse is alwaies vpon his master, and as his master moues, so goes he or stands still, as he is brought to it at the first : as for ensample his master will throw you three dice, and will bid the horse tell how many you or he have throwne, then the horse pawes with his foote whiles his master stands stone still; then when his master sees he hath pawed so many as the first dice shews it selfe, then he lifts up his shoulders and stirs a little; then he bids
him
Z19
him tell what is on the second die, and then of the third die, which the horse will doe accordingly, siill pawinsf with his foote vntill his master sees he hath pawed ynough, and then stirres, which the horse mark- ing, wil stay and leaue pawing, and note, that the horse will paw an hundred times together, vntill he sees his master stirre; and note also that nothing can be done, but his master must first know, and then his master knowing, ihe horse is ruled by him by signes. This if you marke at any time you shall plainly perceaue."
The author concludes with the following satirical address conveyed in a vein of low humour much prac- tised by the pamphleteers of that period. " Now that we are come to our journie's end, let vs sit downe and looke about vs, whether we are al sones of one father, ?f there be no knaues among us, St. Boniface light me the candle, who doe I see? What, the lustie lad of the Myter, that will binde boares, and ride his golden ^sse to death but he will haue his will: Birlady, bir- lady, sir, you of all the rest are most welcome; what, how doth your stomack after your carrowsing banquet? What gorge upon gorge, egges vpon egges, and sack upon sack, at these yeares? By the faith of my body sir you must prouide for a hot kitchen against you grow olde, if you mean to hue my yeares: but happy the father that begot thee, and thrise happy the nurse that fostred such a toward yonker as thyself, thou hast a superficiall twang of a little something: an I alian ribald can not vomit out the infections of the \\ orld, but thou, my pretty Juuinall, an English horrell lorrell, must lick it up for restoratiue, & putrifie thy gentle brother ouer against thee, with the vilde impostumes pf thy lewd corruptions : God bless good mindes from
the
the black enemy say t. T know yon Tiaue bene prying like the deuill from east to west, to heare what newes; I will acquaint thee with some, & that a secret distilla- tion before thou goest. He that cirinketh oyle of prickes shall haue much adoe lo auoyd sirrope of roses; and he that eateth nettles for proiiender, hath a priui- ledge to pisse vpon lillies for a litter. I prcthee sweete natures darling insult not ouermuch vpon quiet men, a worme that is troden vpon will turne againe, and pa- tience loues not to be made a cart of Croyden. I doe begin with thee now, but if I see thee not mend thy conditions, He tell you another tale shortly, thou shalt see that I can doo't; I could bring in my author to tell thee to thy face, that he hath found thee a foole in re- tailc; thou seest simplicity can not double, nor plaine dealing cannot dissemble, I could wish thee to amend thy life and take heade cf the Beadle.
Vale qui ridiculose hoec legeris.
Finis." Conduit street. J. H.
Art. X. List of the Works of Robert Greene.
Robert Greene was born at Norwich. He was by birth a gentleman, received his education at Cam- bridge, and early made a continental tour. He appears to have taken his degree as M. A. of Clare-hall in that university, 1583.* He '^ was presented to the vicarage of Tollesbury,. in Essex, the 19th of June, 1584, which he resigned the following year."f It is
• MS. note by Dr. Farmer. Ses Beloe's Anecdote, &c. Vol. II. •j- See note, p. 22, of Examination of the charges of Ben Jonson's enmity to Shakspeare, i8cS, by Mr. Gilchiist, a pamphlet that will convince as wfU as amuse.
probable
38i
probable about this period he married. The character of his wife, as pourtrayed by his own pen, is amiable and interesting; highly possessing those softer virtues, which adorn and dignify the female characier. The offspring of this union was an only son; but, it is al- leged, even this tie of nature combined with all the endowments of the mother could not prevent desertion. This unfortunate circumstance is supposed to have oc- curred in 1586. Whatever fortune he inherited or re- ceived on his marriage, was idly and rapaciously squan- dered in riotous scenes of dissipation passed in the me- tropolis. In July 1588 he was incorporated at Ox- ford, when, according to Wood, he was well known by his poetical as well as satirical vein ; and, says the same Editor, he *' wrote to maintain his wife, and that high and loose course of living which poets gene- rally follow." Winstanley observes •* he made his pen mercenary," and Shiels considers him " the first of our poets who writ for bread," a circumstance not easily ascertained, and not very probable, and if a fact, a matter neither of reproach nor culpability. Many of his writings glaringly describe the wanton habits of his associates; and charity, lamenting the ungovernable pursuits of genius, must ever draw a veil over his numerous errors. Conscious of the improprieties he had thoughtlessly plunged into, he made strenuous exertions to warn the unthinking, and expose the tricks, frauds, and devices, of his miscreant companions. His works contain the seeds of vifiue, while his acts dis- play the tares of folly. The rec;;rds of his penitence are many; and his iiitention to forsake his imprudent and dissolute course seems to have been founded in truth, good principles, and innate virtue, with an ap- parent
S83
parent consistency, and determination to carry it inta effect. The imbecility of folly renders it wearisome and disgusts; but the habit of indolence that accom- panies it is not easily shaken off. In the delusive hope of gratification from ihe enjoyment of one day more, and the repugnance ever felt to commence the staid course of prudence, the best resolutions waver, are temporized wiih, and, in the abyss of pleasure, ne- glected, lost, and forgotten. .Disregarded by his holi- day acquaintance, and with a mind embittered with the keen anguish of remembrance, he ended the closing scene in character with the vagrant part of his life, dying, according to Wood, about 159a, of a surfeit taken by eating pickled herrings and drinking rhenish wine. Gabriel Harvey, whom the same writer* com- pares to Achilles torturing the body of Hector, as he > most inhumanly trampled upon Greene when he lay full low in his grave, states him to have been buried in the new church-yard near Bedlam.
His pieces were many, and the editions of several extremely numerous, and probably neither as yet wholly ascertained. Those I have perused, display a rich and glowing fancy, much originality and univer- sal command of language, combined with an extensive knowledge of the world. His crowded similies are in unison with those of the period when he wrote, and prove him a disciple of the then fashionable Eu- phuean sect; they are in general well selected, appo- sitely applied, and quaintly amuse while his moral in- structs. He possessed considerable, if not first rate abilities, and it, is inconsistent to measure either
• Wood's Ath. Oxon. Fast. Vol. I. Col. 136. The biographer rran- sciibedfrom Meres this notice of. Harvey's inhumanity. See Wit's T ea'- »ury, 1198, p. a86,
poetry
583
poetry or prose by any standard of criticism erected two centuries after the decease of the author.
The fame of Greene is not indebted to his biographers for any assistance; nor his character under any obH- gation to their lenity. To censure and condemn his weakness has not been sufficient ; he has been stigma- tised with the grossest vices, atid it would be useless njw to inquire for every authority. Much of the abuse is dictated from the pages of his inveterate an- tagonist Gabriel Harvey. The severe notes by Oldys are principally derived from the same polluted source, and the adoption ot them by Steevens has tended to confirm their severity.* The names of Oldys and Steevens are entitled to universal respect aiui confidence : they may be considered to have sacrificed the greater portion of their lives in substituting facts for theory, and purifying English works fron: errors and inconsis- tency. Neither is it the provirice oi one who occa- sionally recreates a mind, worn and corroded by the pursuits of others, in the gratification of reading, to at- tempt the controverting their pages; yet, it may be diffidently suggested, that the sombre shadows might have been relieved without deviating from the fair colouring of truth. Little of the real life of Greene was known at the close of the seventeenth century. Langbaine, who had been many years compiling his *' Account of the English Dramatic Poets," and who sought on all occasions to expose the errors of Win- stanley, was under the acknowledged necessity of copying from that writer's meagre narrative; and which narrative, like the distending bladder that swells with each gust of foul air, has been increased in its appear-
• Bsrkenhout's Biographia Literaria, p. j8j.
ancc
384
anee of malignancy by every subsequent writer. The thoughtless imprudence repeatedly described by Greene in giving an outline of his own character, must be considered as overstrained, for one who had ** tasted of the sweet fruits of theology," * and probably manu- factured with new and exaggerated incidents of folly and extravagance, to swell the hunger-wrought p^iges, and give variation and strength to his novels. f Charity demands this inference when the whole of the vices displayed are found to be gathered v^iih a miser's in- dustry, and embodied, from the tales of invention, for the purpose of degrading him beneath ttie level of decency and common repute in society. Wood, whose authority is relied on in other points, says, he wrote " to maintain his wife;" a memorial in hi» favour passed unnoticed: while that source of existence has been asserted to have been prodigally consumed in the support of a wanton.
The works of Greene obtained an extraordinary portion of popularity. In Ben Jonson's *' Every Man out of his Humour," Maddona Saviolina is described to observe " as pure a phrase and use as choice figures in her ordinary consequences an any be i 'the Arcadia. J Car. Or rather in Greene's works, where she may steal with more security." Sir Thomas Overbury, in his character of " a chamber maid," says " she reads Greene's works over and over; but is so carried away with the Mirror of Knighthood, she is many times re- solu'd to run out of herself, and become a lady-errant. "§
• See present volume, p. 14. •f lb. p. 7, 133, where the gay and thoughtless career of the author if interestingly described under the character of a, pilgrim.
} Cim. Lit. Vol. VII. p. 151, 265. § lb. Vol. V. p. 364.
These
3^5
These passages are given in full from their being quoted by Oldys. Of the last he observes " we may know in what class to rank Greene from what Sir Thomas Overbury says in his character of a chambermaid, who reads Greene's works over and over."* If this nega- tive conclusion is supposed to convey a critical decision, or if it means to convey any thing, it must be that of an opinion which depreciates the works of Greene, and to pronounce them either trifling and unworthy notice, or vulgar and contemptible. Either point may be re- futedj but such authority is too light for a decision, while the vague inference of the critic is more easily- destroyed in an immediate and familiar view of the passage in question, by considering it written of the era of yesterday, and adopting the name of Fieldingj or Smollet, (whose pieces have been equally idolized by chambermaids) ; thus the distinction of class no longer despoils his literary reputation. Wood con- siders him ** author of several things which were pleasing to men and women of his time; [that] they made such sport and were valued among scholars, but eince they have been mostly sold on ballad-monger's .Stalls." This huckster circulation is a presumptive proof of their morality, if not of their merit; and Warton has pronounced in an extended acceptation, his prose pamphlets, may " claim the appellation of satires."! Had the obloquy cast on Greene been at- tached to any modern author, who had obtained simi - lar excess of popularity, the hands of Briareus would not have been sufficient to contain the pens employed
* BiogMph:; Llteraria, p. 390. f Hist. English Po. Fragment otVcl. IV. p. 81.
VOL. yiii. c c the
386
to apologise for his weakness and dissipation, or canvass the proof of his errors; yet, if " he was a bad man," to use the apposite language of a celebrated writer, " let us not paUiale his crimes ; but neiihtr let us adopt false or doubtful imputations for the purpose of making him a monster."*
1. The Myrrour of Modestie, 1584.
2. Monardo the Tritameron of Love, 1584, 1587.
3. Planetomaciiia, 1585. [q. an edition without .date, t J
,, . 4. Trapslatiqn of funeral sermon of P. Gregory XIII. 15854 «
5. Euphues censure to Philautus, 1587, 1634. '^
6. Arcadia or Menaphon, Camillae's alarm to slumbering Euphues, 1587, 1589, 1599, 1605, 1610, j6i6, 1634.
7. Pandosto the triumph of Time, 1588,1639. /d
8. Perimedes the blackesmiih, 1588. i>5' Trgnol g^ 9. The pleasant and delightful History of Dorastus
|Rflf^wnia, 1588, i6c7, ^^15y ^1^3^ ^7^h ^73^'§ , ;-: , iQ. Alcida,
* Fox's Historical Work, p. 66.
■f This piece was considefod from Wood as theatrical, ar»<l noticed by Baker in the Cumpanioii to the Pl^y House, 1764, but omitted in the Bio- graphia Drarnatlca of Reed.
t See Phillips's Theatrum Poetarum, Ed. 1 Sco, p. 196.
§ To the edition of 173518 added the history of Hero and Leandcr in piose. The title states both '< made English from the originals, written in the Bohemia and Grecian tongues, by a gentleman who spent many year* in travelling through njost parts of Germany, Greece 4>)d Italy, where these stories are in as much cre/lit and repute as any that are now extant, or ever were printed." U^ion this story Shakspeare founded the Winter's Tale. It was versified probably about the beginning of the last century, and consists cf fifty-eight stanzas. A short specimen from the beginning will suffice.
** Into
2^7
10. Alcida, Greene's Metamorphosis, (licensed to John Wolfe, 1588), 1617.
11. The Spanish Masquerado, 1589.
12. Orpharion (licensed to E. White, 1589), 1599.
13. The Royall Exchange, contayning sundry apho- risms of Philosophic, 1 590.
14. Greene's Mourning Garment given him by re- pentance at the funerals of Love, 1590, 1616,
15. Neuer too late, 159'^, 1600, 1607, 1616, 1631. [n. d. Beloe.]
16. A notable discouery of Coosenage, 1591, 1592.
17. The ground work of Conny Catching, 1591.*
18. The second and last part of Conny Catching, 1391, 1593.
19. The third and last part of Conny Catching, 1592.
20. Disputation between a hee conny-catcher and a shee conny-catcher, 1592.
21. Greene's groatsworth of Wit bought with a
f' Into Bohemia dwelt a king^
Pandosto high to name : .
He had a queen, Bellaria call'd,
fair, beauteous, and of fame.
lie had a friend, Egestus call'd,
a king of great renown. And for love of Pandosto, he
did leave his land and crown.
And to Bohemia he did sail,
Pandosto for to see : Who with Bellarja his queen, received him royally." • In 159T there was licensed to Thomas Gubbin " The Defence of Conye-Catehinge,or a confutac'on of those ij injurious pamphlets published with R. G. against the practisioners of many nymblc wytted and misticall •cienccs," Herbert, 1354.
c c 2 millioa
388
milHon of repentance, n. d. 1593, i6co, 1616, 1617, 1621, 1629, 16 -J.*
%%. Philomela the Lady Fitz-Walter*s Nightin- gale, n. d. 1592, 1615, 1631.
23. A Quip for an upstart Courtier, or a dispute between velvet and cloth breeches, 1592, 1620, 1625, 1635. Harl. Mis. Vol. V. p. 371.
24. Ciceronis Amor, Tvllie's Love, 1592, 161 1, 1615, 1616, 1628, 1639.
25. News both from Beaven and Hell (licensed to John Oxenbridge, 1592), 1593.
26. The Black Book's Messenger, or life and death of Ned Browne, 1592.
27. The repentance of Robert Greene, 1592,
28. Greene's vision at the instant of his death, published by Newman, n. d.
39. Mamillia, or the triumph of Pallas, 1593.
30. Mamillia, or the second part of the triumph of Pallas, 1593.
31. Card of Fancy, 1593, 1608.
3a. Greene's funerals, 1594. [I believe not his. LReed.]^
33. The Honourable Historic of Frj'er Bacon and Fryer Bongay, a comedy, 1594, 1599, ^^3^^ ^655.
* RItson in the Bib. Poetica states this piece to have been edited by I. H^ initials " presumed to belong to Jasper Hey wood j" an error lie was led into by those initials being aff xed to " Greene's epitaph," printed at the end of the work. Waiton points out th« publisher in Henry Chettlc, which ap- pears confirmed by the epistle before Kinde-Harts Dreame, where he says« *« about three moneths since died M. Robert Greene, leaving many papers sn sundry booke sellers' handes, among others his Groats worth of Wit*" Hist. E. P. Vol. iii. p. 291, 386. Reed's Sbakspearc, Vol. II. p. 2^4..
f Inserted in Stecveas'; list. Blog. Lit.
34^ The
3^9
34* The History of Orlando Furioso, a play, not di- vided into acts, 1594, 1599.*
35. The comicall Historic of Alphonsus King of Arragon, a play, 1597, 1599.
36. A looking glass for London and England, (a corned}', jointly with Lodge), 1594, 1598.
37. The Scottish Historic of James the Fourthe «laine at Floddcn, intermixed with a pleasant comedie, &c. 1598, 1599.
38. Penelope's Webb, n. d. 1601.
39. History of Faire Bellora, [q. date of first edition, afterwards published as] " A paire of Turtle Doves, or the tragicall History of Bellora and Fidelio. Seconded with the tragicall end of Agamio, wherein (besides other matters pleasing to the reader) by way of dis- pute betweene a Knight and a Lady, is described this neuer before debated question, to wit, whether man to woman, or woman to man offer the greater tempta- tions vnto vnbridled lust, and consequently whether man or woman in that vnlawfull act, be the greater offender. A historic pleasant, delightful and witti, fit of all to be perused for their better instruction, but cspeciall of youth to be regarded, to bridle their follies. Printed for Francis Burton, and are to be sold at his •hop in Paules Church-yard at the signe of the Flower de-luce and Crowne, 1606."
40. The debate between Follie and Love, translated out of French, i6c8.t
• The author of the defence of Connycatching accuses Greene of selling fhis dramatic piece *' to the Qi^eene's players for twenty nobles, and when they were in the country, sold the same play to Lord Admiral's men, for as much mors." It appears to have been very popular, as in 159 1 it was per- formed by Lord Strange's men. Henslowti List.
•f From MS. cotes by tht late Dr. Wright, ptnts mi.
c c 3 41. Thieves
390
41. TTiieves falling out true men come by their goods, 1615, 1637. Harl. Mis. Vol. VIII. p. 369.
42. Greene's Farewell to Folic, 1617.
43. Arbasto, the History of Arbasto King of Den- marke) 161 7, 1626.*
44. Fair Emme a comedy, 1631. [The best autho- rities for this article are Phillips's Theatrum Poetarum, 1675, and the re-insertion by Steevens in his list for Berkenhout. Langbaine, Mears, and others, consider the piece anonymous. It was performed by Lord Strange's men, who had the other dramas written by Greene, and the construction is similar to Orlando Furioso, not being divided into acts].
45. The History of Jobe, a play, destroyed; see Warburton's list, Ce)isura, Vol. V. p. 274.
\The following pieces have been ascribed to Greene.']
Mihil Mumchance, his discoverie of the art of cheating in false dyce-play, n. d. [InWrted by Mr. Reed in his list, but doubtful. It forms N". 32 in Mr. Beloe's list, though mentioned in the following page as not by Greene.]
Art of Juggling, 16 12 [Reed's list, & ante p. 374.] Greene's ghost haunting coney catchers, i6c2, 1606, 1626. [^' I doubt this being Greene's." /. Reed.] The Epistle Dedicatory says, this little pamphlet, which by a very friend came to my hands, and adding «omewhat of mine owne knowledge, and vpon verie credible information, concluding ** your's to vse S. R." These initials are given to Samuel Rowlands,
• To Arbasto was added the " lovely poem" of Pyrainut and Thisbe, writttn by Dunctan Gale. Rittin'i BlUkirafbia PoelUa.
but
391
but they are mote probably those of the author of the Art of Juggling.]
Greene in conceyte newe raised from his graue to wryte the tragique storye of his faire Valeria of Lon- don. (Licensed to William Jones 1597), 1598, was written by John Dickenson i
Greene's poet's vision and a Pritice's glory, 1603 [N**. 37, of Mr. Beloe's list, written by Thomas Greene the actor, better known by John Cook's dramatic piece of *' Greene's Tu Quoque."]
The late Mr. Reed inserted an additional manuscript list of Greene** works in a copy of the Eiographia literaria; to that T have made several additions. The greater portion of the titles having been fully given in Mr. Beloe's Anecdotes of Literature made a repetition unnecessary.
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. XL Camden's Gifts of Arms. Extracted fr9m Morgan^ s Sphere of Oeniry.
[concluded from p. 271.]
Surry> 299. Thomas Clay de Rigate. A. 2, chevr.
engrailed S. intr. 3 trefoils S. 161 3. London. Edmund Rolph, Goldsmith. A. 3 crows S.
a trefoil in chief V. 301. Edward Smith. A. fess V. intr. 3 ogresses. Suffolk. 302. Robt. Cook of Laneham, 161 2. G. ar^
inescutcheon A. intr. 3 crosses forme fitch6
in saltier encountring on the escutcheon. £s5cx. 303. JVm. Luckyn deBidow, 34 June, 161 1.
S. a fess dance intr. 3 leopards' faces 0.*
• The paternal coat of Lord Grim«tonc.
c c 4 Essex.
39^
Essex. 304. Roli. Garsetj Esq. of the Body to K.
James, May 1614, vel Feb, i, 1612. A..a
saltier entr. 4 mullets G. Sussex. 305. Marshal of MichelhsLvny Dec. 2, 1612.
Barry of 6, A. & S. a canton Erm. chained
with an inescutcheon G. London. 306. John Warren, 16 13. Cheeky O. & B.
on canton Erm. a lion ramp, double queve. 307. Robert Johnson, son of John of Goldenton in
Bedfordshire, B. chevron O. entr. 3 eagles
lifting up their wing.s O. Essex 308. Roll. Maidsfon de Boxsted, 1614. O. %
battleaxes in saltier S. the iron A. 309. Thomc^ ThwaitSy Alderman, 1598. A. a
plain cross S. fretty O. in the dexter quarter
a lis G. Lincoln. 31c. Rd. Williamson of Gainsborough,
1602. O. a chevr. G. entr. 3 trefoils S.
311. Humphry Bugg of Suttenon,Ma.r. 12, 1602.
O. on a fess S. 3 budgets A.
312. Sir Roll. Cross, Quarterly A. & G. in first
quarter a cross crosslet G. Suffolk. 313. Spr/nCT of Pakenham. A. a chevron en- grailed G. entr. 3 mascles G. 314. Jeffrey Paynell G. 2 chevrons A. border A. London. 315. Laurence Camp, July 2, 1604. S. a chevron O. entr. 3 griffins heads erased O. 316. Henry Wollaston, Draper. Crest. 1616. A. 3 mullets pierced S. Berks. 317. Thos. Orpwood de Abingdon, 13 Oct. j6co. V. 3 crosses formy A. on chief A. 3 boars heads cauped S.
Leicester*
593
Leicester. 318. Halford, High Sheriff, July 1622. A.
greyhound pass. S. on chief S. 3 lis O. London. 318. Barlar. O. 2 chevrons G. 3 lis in chief
G. Surry. 319. JVm. KniglUley de Kingston on Thames,
Quarterly Erm & Paly of 6, O. & G. on a
bend B. a lance O.
REMARKS.
Many of my readers, it seems, will rejoice at the conclusion of tfiis long article. As a notice had been given of its continuance, it appeared proper to print this small fragment to complete it.
I cannot admit, to one of my Correspondents, who has honoured me with a private letter on the subject, that the book from which it is extracted is very common ; nor is the article, in my mind, totallij uninteresting or useless. In the introductory observations to it, I have given some reasons why I think otherwise. I cannot allow that its insertion is inconsistent with my original plan ; but even if it be jwt strictly conformable with the arrangement hitherto adopted, it certainly does not infringe on the licence I claimed for myself in the preface to the first volume, where I said I " would not be un- alterably confned to any plan."
It is very true thai he, who undertakes a work of this kind, is hound in common pmdence, and indeed for the purpose of con- tinuing its very existence, to consult the taste of his readers: and now that I know it, I shall certainly take care to press subjects of this kind no further. As to their dryness, I did not quite think thai an objection in a ivork of antiquities. But I have no desire at pre- sent to enter into a defence of the illustrious scieiice of heraldry ! !
My Correspondent suspects that this long article has been inserted to fill a space, for which i was not otherwise prepared. He will excuse me for assuring him that this was not the case. 3Iy judg- ment, such as it is, must answer for the introduction of it. At tlie same time periodical publications are surely entitled to much can- dour, on account of occasional harry, and casual instances of in- considerate selection.
The man, who can give up his whole time to the conduct of such, a work, is too detached from the concerns of general literature as
well
594
tcell as from the business and pleasures of life, to possess those ciC' quirements of the mind, which more than make amends for the lapses of haste, and accidental neglect and indifference.
Let a liberal censurer refect what it is to carry on a mark month after month, and year after year, through sickness and sorrow as ioell as through health and ease of heart ; through business and dis- traction, as well as through le'sure and calm spirits; at moments of languor and despondence as well as of energy and hope : and he •ivill not judge too rigidly, and expect what is scarcely possible !
It is my present intention to explain . in another place more at large the purposes which I have endeavoured to effect by this work, and the extent to which I had hitherto flattered myself that I had succeeded. If I have failed, I have failed in a design, which I can confidently assert to have been actuated by pure, virtuous, and disinterested motives.
I am not ashamed to confess that I love literary fame; and perhaps too fondly !
•* Fame is the spur which the clear spirit doth raise To scorn delights, and liv« laborious days !" ,
My fame, I hope, does not depend on the present work. But if I am doomed in consequence of these my humble endeavours to be considered a mere dull plodder among black-letter books, a stupid transcriber
" Of all such learning as was never* read," I must submit to my fate ; and endure it with the best fortitude which I can command. To mean misrepresentation, and low and petulant abuse from malignant and half-educated libellers, I have long been accustomed. Such conduct will never shake me in my steady resolves ; nor drive me from pursuits which I think either amusing or useful. I know that men, to whose talents and acquire'" ments I look up with admiration, have been equally abused. I have heard Warton's History of Poetry derided for its dulness; dnd the writer's intellectual endowments refused any other praise them the power of industry ! ! !
fVhat I am, neither praise can increase, nor censure diminish. The time I have spent in immercenary literature, I can at least look back upon tcith satisfaction, as an innocent and virtuous occu' pation of a large portion of my life.
August M, 1808. Editor,
Abt.
395
Art. XII. Reply to the Defence of Groi'ms.
TO THE EDITOR OF CENSURA LITERARIA.
tIR,
It is a great obstruction to progress in literature, that authors are often too negligent concerning; the minutise of facts, for a contrary conduct would prevent many erroneous conclusions deduced from them : thus P. M. informs us *' that both Bayle and Moreri say, tliat Galatinus took the whole substance of his work from Porchet, as Porchct himself had done from Mar- tini.''* But this is impossible; for the book of Gala- tinus was published five years before the book of Por- chet, as appears fn)m the prolegomena of Maussacus to Martini, wh«re Porchet's book is dated in 152c, but that of Galatinus as early as 1515 for the first edition; but there was a second at Frankfort in 160a, from which I have made the quotations in my letter. Martini died about 1284, and his work was only read in MS. until 165', when it was first published at Paris from a copy found in ihe library of Tholousc, and then almost unknown, with noteb by De Voisin : this gave Galatinus and Porchet opportunity to pilfer from it without discovery, until that first publication of it. P. M. erroneously then considers that first pubr licaiion as a republication^ of which there was one indeed in (687 at Leipsic.
Now, it is from the first edition in 1 651, that I have made my quotations, and I have not found there the least good reason for his supposing it " to be probable that the foundation of the story about Nehumiah is to be met with in the first edition."! On the contrary.
* P» M. is not answerable for the eirorj of Bdvle or Moreri. Editor. •J- This follows from the ci^dit given to Eayle and Moreri. Editor.
neither
39^
neither the titles t^ the chapters^ nor the contents of them, so far as I have read them, contain any thing relative to that subject; nor yet the copious index, which has no references to any other of the names than Haccadosch, and these only in the notes of De- voisin, relative merely to the date at which he might have compiled the Mishna : there is also a list prefixed of all the authors quoted by Martini, in which not even the name of Haccadosch appears. But although Gala- tinus did not copy from Porchet, yet he certainly did from Martini ; and in Collier's Hist. Did. there is a truer account of these facts under the word Raymund, than in the above one of Bayle, and taken from some of the works of M. Simon, where much is rightly sub- stituted for whole; as accordingly I have proved from the prolegomena by Maussacus, that Galatinus inserted many articles of his own from spurious books: now, ihat erroneous word whole seems to be what has mis- led P. M. still to conceive that something about Ne- humiah is to be found in ihejirst edition of Martini. As to the censure however of Galatinus by Reinoldus concerning his nimio studio 7\lmudicarum nugaruTTif it must be equally applicable to all the three authors, iftoanyonc; yet it is rather an unreasonable one, since it was the very object of their books to prove, that the explications of the Jews themselves both in the Talmud and elsewhere, applied all passages in scrip- ture relative to the Messiah in the same manner as the Christians themselves; and this first writ oppor- tunely by Martin at a time when the Jews in Spain, before 1184, possessed almost all the learning then current in that nation, of which Martini was a native, viz. m Catalonia, and they had converted also many
Christians to Judaism,
With
397
With respect to Philo that some ancient Christians had supposed him author of the Book of Wisdom, and some modern ones also, is indeed true; but then they supposed also, that the passages in that book, -which were thought to glance at Christianity vv^re writ historically ^ by his being himself converted to Christianity by St. Peter at Rome, therefore after the passion of Christ, not prophetically. What P. M. quotes from Duhamel of a prophetic nature relates merely to iha passion of Christ himself; but I know of no author ancient or modern, except Galatinus, who made Philo prophecy also de Martyrum victoriis et ecclesia Christi statu, or whoever before asserted that theNicene council* received the book tanquam sancti spiritus dictamine scriptuniy and not rather as an his- toric testimony concerning Christianity, in case thev did not receive it as a mere Jewish book.
But however this might have been, yet at least it appears from that diversity in the opinions of the an- cient Christians (if any of them did so ancie^itly sup- pose the twentieth verse to be a prophecy of the death of Chrut and not a relation of it) while some of them thus conceived Philo to have writ before the passion, and others made him not to become a Christian author until his journey to Rome after it, that neither of the opinions is entitled to much credibility. As little evi- dence also had Grotlus to affirm that it was interpolated after Christ, though composed by a Jew before; and just as little evidence has P. M. to conceive that the whole of it was writ after Christ: I find no satisfactory evidence either way, therefore cannot but wonder at the
• But other councils have. Seep. 335. Editor.
readiness
39»
readiness with which such affirmations* are madewiih so little evidence to support them, when there is suf- ficient evidence throughout the whole, that it was writ by a Jew, froni the constant comments upon early Jev ish history, while nothing is said but in one place, ^^hlch can be strained into any reference to Christ, viz. in ihe second chapter ; yet even this of such a general natuie relative to the unhappy fates which too often befall righteous men, that it might just as well have been writ by any rational heathen as by a Jew or Christian. It is the mode of expression chiefly which proves it to come from the pen of a Jew, by a righteous man being called a child of the Lord, and a Son of God, with other Jewish ideas; but why should these phrases be here strained into' any reference to Christ, when the same phrase is applied afterwards to the whole Jewish nation? In chap, xviii. 13, the writer says, ** that the Egyptians on finding their first born children slain, acknowledged the Jewish nation to he the Son of God," u}^r>K<jyr^<Ta/j ^eov viov Xocov sivai. Tre ■ mellius rightly renders this in the singular populum filium esse dei; but the English is in the plural, yet in the same sense, to he the sons of God, Now how acts the vulgate? It omits Jilium altogether Cpopulum dei se essej, and thus by substituting se for illos, it in fact makes the Egyptians so7is of God instead of the Jews. This was apparently done, that Son of God before might be more readily confined by readers to Christ.
Such are the arts of some translators and the neglects of others in not adhering to the originals ! An error of the press made -jios ^eov in my letter instead of uioj ^sov,
* This IE not an affi:ination of P. M. but merely an inference. Editor.
which
399
which phrase occurs in the eighteenth verse, as ira(5a, xvpiou does in the thirteenth, and both which Tremel- lius renders accurately. Both of them also are quoted by Galatinus, but here again we may observe an artifice in the vulgate ; for it renders both phrases by filium Dei, for the same reason as before ; and hence it was, that the old English tr inslation has God's son, and I sup- pose, in both verses, like the vulgate. The evidence of these words having any reference to Christ must have appeared very precarious to the translator, when such arts were thought requisite to support that inierpre tation. 1 cannot believe, however, that the zeal of the first Christians was so cold, or their judgment so little, as to write nineteen chapters containing reflec- tions altogether relative to events in ancient Jewish history, in order to introduce so early as in the second chapter a single verse, in v hich the words Son of God occur, and whic h may he applied to Christ, yet are applied in such a levelling manner, that it makes every righteous man just as much a Son of God as Christ himself. " If the just man be the Son of God, he will help him, and deliver him from his enemies." .Now why should not every just man be as well called ^ Son of God, as the whole Jewish nation ?
S.
P. S. The above verse was plainly imitated from psalm xxii. 8. *' He trusted in God, that he would deliver him, let him deliver him seeing he delighted in him." HAtfitrsv iiti jcuiiov fvtrao-Srcu avrov on QsXsi avrov. This was the very verse which the Pharisees applied to Christ at his crucifixion, " He trusted in God, let him deliver hiin now if he will have him, for
he
he said I am the Son of God Usvoi^ev em rsv ^stv, p- caiT^ui} vvv avrov, si Stsasi avrov, &c." Now it was this application to Christ of that verse, which probably first led the ancient Christians to apply also to Christ the imitation of it in the Book of Wisdom as above- mentioned, and hence might arise the supposition that Philo was instructed in Christianity, or that he there predicted the passion of Christ ; especially as the phrase Son of God was found in Wisdom, added to the words of the psalm ; but no real Christian in that early age would have ever voluntarily employed Son of God in such a familiar and disrespectful manner as to apply it to the Jewish nation, who crucified Christ, as well as to every righteous man without distinction. And that the author himself, whoever he was, merely intended to imitate the words of the psalm is confirmed not only by the sense, but also by his employing the very same word po-£ra< foT will deliver: there seems some room also for doubt, whether the thought of the Phari- sees, when they applied that verse to Christ and joined to it the Son of God, was not drawn from the same words in the Book of Wisdom, rather than from the words of Christ (who always called himself /Ae Son of Man) in order thus to make it the more applicable to him; and thus that this speech of those Pharisees may possibly be thought to become some testimony of the existence of the Book of Wisdom before Christ.
S.
ERRATA.
V. 1 66, for procure r. prove— 31 j, magna r. magnus— vale r. vate— re- ptrtur r. ret'ertur — juro r. jure — 314, ver. 5, 6 r, vers. 6 — 315, 266 r. 966 . — 317, inde r.'ii de— 316, ofScietur r. afficietur. — 335, note, protli r. Ismeli.
Art.
Art. XIII. Old Poetry. [Peace I hear a voice.
The following is transcribed from the volume containing the oration of John Russell, jTlnted by Caxton, ante p. 351.]
*' Peas I heir a voyce, saith man thou shalt dye. Remember the paynes of purgatorie !
Why sittist thou so syngyng, thenkyst thou nothyng. That who so best hoppith at laste shal hane the ryng ? Remembre thy maker and pray to that kyng, To that blisse that he bought the vnto the bryng.
Thou shalt aby.
This worlde defygh 5
Pes 1 hier a voice.
I prove the by Reason~ that thou art vnkynde. He that deid afore the, is dene oute of thy myndc; Thy fren''dis afore the, why art thou so blynde? In p'' gatory paynyng there shalt thou them fynde.
With doolefuU cry.
Thou shalt aby.
This world defygh.
Peas.
Man compasse iti saying in mynde every delle. And pray for tho soules so grete paynes fele; In purgatory paynyng their sorowys to heele. Thy self in no wors cas and yis it is weele.
This worlde defygh.
Thou shalt abye.
Peas I hier a
I hauc herd this voice, well Mary fnlle of grace Spekith it to me] yo, I will high me a paas To the chirche, me to amende : Lady p~y [pray] for space. Lord leste I come to late^ yo, alas! alas ! ! VOL. VIII. no I fere
'I
403
I fere me, I,
With doulfull cry, I shall aby, This world defygh. Pees.
A now am I thorugh that dey shall I thanne. But yit gentil ncyghbore, tell me where or whan". Or where shall I become, why, spekist thou not nian^ Is thcf no creature that answere me can" ?
Now god rac guy, , I fere me, I,
W^ dulfull cry,
I shall aby
This world defygh. ^
Than see I righte wele ther"*. is no way butt oon% Nowe helpe mc deere Kateryn and lohn, Christofer & George, myne avowries ahooe. Of the nombre dampned see that I be none. Pray for me high. Now god me guy, I fere me, I, With dulfull cry, I shall aby. This world defygh. Peas I hier~. "
[The late Mr. R'ltson was author cf tliree law tracts, all now very scarce, and probably the only collected copy fonped by himself, with additional title, is in the library of Thomas Hill, Esq. who^e collection is liberaiiy open to all reasonable inquiry, and to whom I am under repeated obligations by ths loan of scarce and valuable works not otherwise attainable. The following ballad is in the appendix to " the Office of Constable," 1791.J
'^ The Song of a Consfable: made ly James Gijffony Constable of Alburye \in Surry'] Anno 1626. To
the
403
the tune of < Jump to me Cossen," {Nolu first printed.)
"la constable hane tooke rajne oath ;
By which shall plaine appeere The troth and nothing but the troath,
Whoseuer my song will heere. One greate constable of Ingland was.
Another late should haue ben j But litle ones now is found will serue.
So they be but honnest men. A constable must be honest and just j
Haue knowledge and good reportcj And able to straine with boJie and braine.
Ells he is not fitting for 't.
Some parish pultes a constable on,
Alas ! without vnderstanding, Bycause they 'd rule him when they haue done.
And haue him at their commaunding. And if he commaundes the poore they 'le grutch.
And twit him with partial blindness ; AgainCj and if he commaunds the rich.
They 'le threaten him with vnkindnes: To charge or corapell 'um, hee's busie they 'le tell 'umj
In paying of rates they 'le brawle. Falls he but vnto, do that he should do.
He warnt you displease them all.
Whip he the roagues,* they 'le raill and they 'le curse ;
Soldiers as rude cause they are Sent to the treasurer with their passe,t
And may not beg euery where. If warrantes do come, as often they do.
For money, then he it demaundes. To eu* yre one with 's rate he does go.
Wherein they are leuied by landes : ♦ By J9 Eliz. c, 4. iince repealed. f See 43 Eliz. c. 3. §§. 8, 13. D n 2 Thev'le
4^4
, They 'le say then he gathers vp money of others. To put to vse for increase j Ells he gathers it vp, to run awaye wu *t : What terrible wordes be these !
Hearing a presse for soukliers theyle start.
Ells hide them selves when we come; Their wiues then will saye, to presse wee yce maye :
Our husbands are not at home.* Coyne for magazens sent for in hast ;
Much ado was eare they yeilded, Yets' gather'd and paid j and I am afraid
They will not in hast be builded. The justices will set vs by the heels.
If wee do not do as we should j Which if we perforrae the townsmen will stormcj
Some of them hang 's if they could.
The constable 's warnde to th' sessions then,
Vnwiliing some goes, alas! Yet there may wit and experience lerne,
if that he be not an asse. There shall he see the justices set,
• This idea of pressing the wife fjr the husband is the subject of a hu- morous old song (Latinized by Boid),'beg:nnirig,
♦' I am a cunning constable," &c. Of which the second stanza is as follows :
«« Ho I Who'i at home ? Lo ! here am I ! ■ Good morrow, neighbour. Welcom, Sir.
Vvhereis your husband ? Why truly
He's gone abroad, a journey far. Do you not kaow when he comes back ?
See how these cowards fly for life ! The king for souluiers must not lack ; If I miss the iran, I'll take the wifs." [This note was extended for the purpose of casting a severe reflection upon the system of press-warrants. It is to be lamented that any thing so harsh should be necessary for our national bulwark, the navyj but it will not jus- tify a repetition of the censure in the intemperate language adopted by Rjt- ton.l
Here
40B
Here three of O ye^cs, and Then shall he here the commiriSion read.
Though llttb he vr.deretsnd.* Our free landed men arc called fur in then,
To be of the great inquest. The chief of or.r towne":, with hoire on their crownes.
That what shov.lu le done knowes best.
Choice men of eucryc iD-.vi.e in the shcire.
Three juric.-: there must be more, Cal'd vnto tlje booke with ' here, sir, here 1'
The wisest of twentye beforej Then there shall he see who right hath transgrest
Punished for his offence. There shall be here a number amerc 't.
Along of their negligence : What things are amisse, what doings there is.
Justices charge them enquier, Fore clarke of the peace and baylies at least
A dozen besides the crier.
Verdicts must come from these juries then.
But howsoeare they endite them, Theyle not be tooke till next day by ten,
Vnlesse that their clarkes do wright them. BufFwordes or smooth arc all but in vaine.
All courts of proffit do savour. And though the case be neuer so plaine,
Yet kissing shall go by fauour; Theyle punish the leastest, and fauour the greatest,
Nought may against them proceede. And who may dare speak against one that is great.
La we with a powlder indeede !
Bnt now my constableship's neare done:
Marke hearers, sayers and singers. There is not an officer vnder the sunne, But does lookc through his fingers. * It was then In Lutin.
n V 3 Yet
4o6
Yet where I see one willing to mend.
Not prating nor making excuses. Such a one if I can I'le befreindj
And punish the grosse abuses. My counsel now vse, you that are to chuse.
Put able mem euer ih placej • For K.NAUES and fooles in authoryte no
But THEMSELUE3 AND THEIR COUNTRIE DISGRACE."
Conduit street. J. H.
Art. XIV. The Ruminator. Containing a series , of moralf sentimental, and critical Essays,
N°. XLII.
Complaint of a Literary Man.
TO THE RUMINATOR.
To a mind like yours, constantly ruminating on the diversified and contradictory moral traits of our species, and touched with a keen sensibility at its failings and misfortunes, I feel an insurmountable impulse to open the anxieties of a melancholy and overloaded heart. If you cannot speak comfort to me, methinks* the mere act of pouring out the fulness of my mind will give me relief.
I am a man who have given up the principal part of ray life to literature, which however I have done rather as an amusement than a business. I have read and written as whim directed, without any other view, than
• I amhippy to »ee this word justified in yam'nion's Etymological Scotiii Dictionary. Editor^
that
407
that of a pleasing occupation of my time, unless' per- haps it was mingled with the hope of a reward in the acquisition of literary fame. Thus have I whiled away the vigour of my yOuth and my manhood; and the hour is arrived, when I look back on the precious time thus lost, with hesitation, regret, and a mixture even of awe and trepidation 1 For what are our faculties given us ? Are they to end in their employment here, or in the worldly reputation they procure ? These are questions which more than startle me at periods of senbus thought !
I look upon the great mass of mankind, and imagine that I see them employed still more unprofitably than I am. Their amusements are more sensual ; and are productive of at least as little benefit to their fellow- creatures. Tf it be pleaded that their habits are less solitary, they still may be more selfish. The produc- tions of the study are capable of a wider communi- cation, than the exertions of conversation ; and surely are in general of a more refined and improving nature. TThesd thoughts intermix some rays of comfort at such hours of gloom !
But, eilas! the clouds close together again; and at moments I seem involved in impenetrable darkness. The acquisition of all I had sought for, books, know- ledge, fame, I feel, like Solomon, to be mere vanity ! The objects of my earthly idolatry, the great meteors df human genius, fade before my sight. They appear insignificant, and vapid, like myself; their talents wasted; and the monument of their works unworthy of the labour which'it cost.
Docs this proceed from the disease of my mind; or
from a just sense of the misapplication of its powers ?
D D 4 Do«s
4o8
Does it not whisper views of fame, and reward, bej'ond this world ? and employments directed to effects of a higher kind, as the means?
When the utmost purpose resulting from the em- ployment of those mental faculties with which Provi- dence has endowed us, is a barren exercise of the un- derstanding or the fancy of others, how far short do they fall of their capabilities ? They might at the same time instruct, refine, and exalt;, direct the head; and elevate the heart !
Had I, instead of wasting my life in idle inquiries on trifling subjects, and idle excursions of ihe imagi-- nation, bent my humble talents to acquire and convey solid knowledge, and delineate the visions of a better order of existence, perhaps even I might have secured a renown, which, while it never ceased to gratify me here, might have soothed my spirit hereafter! ■•j»i;i, .?
It is past: the flight of Time is irrevocable; books- lose their zest; the charms of learning have vanished; and fame, could I grasp it, is not worth the embrace I Such at least is the present unhappy state of my mind. Can you give me peace, Mr. Ruminator? Can you dissipate these clouds? And are you subject to no similar dejections ? You seem to pursue your course without interruption through fair weather and foul ! But perhaps T know not your difficulties. Like me, you may feel languor, disgust, despondence ! O, Sir, how much luckier than I, are you then, who do not stop as I have done !
** Tu ne cede malis; sed contra audentior \V\ !''
I am, Sir,
Your constant Reader,
HOMUNCIO LiTERARIUS.
August 8, 1808.
To
409
To a mind in the state of my Correspondent's, it •would be jjrcsumption in me to enlarge on the obvious and only topics of consolation. I leave it to the ac- complished and eloquent divine, to delineate in iheir full force the comforts of religion; to point out the views, which never lose their lustre, and the wreath of which the flowers never fade. These and these alone will be powerful enough to counteract the disease, which the present letter so pathetically delineates; and which I myself, alas! have felt too deeply to be insensible to the sufferings of my Correspondent.
Aug, 1 I, 1808. ' RUMINATOR.
N°. XLIir. Poetical Fragments.
The following poetical fragments, found among the papers of an eminent literary person, lately deceased, may for once be allowed in combination to form a paper of the Ruminalor.
I will not venture to say that they have never been printed before, though I do not recollect to have met with them.
*' Thoughts occasioned ly the Funeral of the Earl and Countess of Sutherland, 1766, at the ylhhey of Holy -rood- House. By the late Sir Gilbert Elliot, Bart.
" See where the Forth, by many a winding shore. Still undlminish'd, holds his way, and see Yon mountain hoar, a stranger to decay. Still as of oldj o'erlooks the walled city.
Her
4IO
Her dwelling?, spires, and rocky batllement:
E'en that proud palace, rear'd by human toil.
Still braves the stroke of time, though long untrod
The paved court, and silent be the hall.
These all remain : yet in the mouldering vault
Sleep Scotland's boasted kings, their ancient line
Extinct, and all their long-descended sway
Shrunk to this little measure. O! farewel,
Farewel, ye raighiy names, for high exploit
And warlike prowess fam'dj entreated oft,
And oft assail'd by French or English monarch.
Such are tby triumphs, and thy victory such,
O Death, relentless! whom no charm can sooth.
Thy valour, Bruce, nor all the civil lore
Of the first James, nor Mary's matchless bloonj.
Ill-fated Queen! Then wipe your tears away :
I'll weep no more: let the long funeral pass.
And darken all around : I'll weep no more. —
True, they were young*; and noble was thy birth,
O Sutherland! and in thy manly mind,
An inmate there, wrfs sealed sweet affection.
Yet wherefore mourn ? In pity heav'n bestow'd
An early doom: lo! on the self-same bier
A fairer form, cold by her husband's side.
And faded every charm, she died for thee.
For thee, her only love. In beauty's prime.
In youth's triumphant hour, she died for thee.
Bring water from the brook, and roses spread
O'er their pale limbs : for ne'er did wedded lov;c
To one sad grave consign a lovelier pair.
Of manners gentler, or of purer heart 1
Nor man alone decays: this antique tomb.
Where, mix'4 with kings, they lie, yon mountain hoar.
And rocky battlement, one awful day.
Shall give to ruin j while alone survives.
Bright
411
Bright and unquenchable, the tital flame. Portion of Heaven's own fire^ which once illum'd High-minded virtue, or with milder glow Warm'd the pure breast of lovgrs and of friends."
The Ballad of Shinkin, with a Lathi and Greek Translation.
" Of a noble race was Shinkin,
Of the line of Owen Tudor; But hur renown is fled and gone.
Since cruel love pursued hur.
Fair Winny's eyes bright shining,
And lily-breasts alluring. Poor Shinkin's heart with fatal dart
Have wounded past all curing.
Hur was the prettiest fellow
At stool-ball and at cricket j At hunting-race, or foot-ball chace,
Gods splut, how hur could kick it !
But now all joys are flying.
All pale and wan hur cheeks tooj Hur heart so akes, bur quite forsakes
Hur herrings and hur leeks too.
No moi'e shall sweet Metheglin
Be drank at good Montgommeryj And if love's sore last six days more.
Adieu, cream cheese and flummery !"
" Praeclarus ortu Shenkin
E Stirpe Theodori j
Sed cessit a Me Splendor Faraae
V^encreo Furori.
Splendentis
4^2
Spkndcutis Winifridae
Ocelli perculercj Cor (heu I) erudeli ictu teli
Desperat Ars mederi.
,Tam clarus erat nerao Seu Pili, seu Bacilli j Cnrsn pedesfri, ant equestri, Haud quisquam compar illi. ,
Sed gaudia fngerunt,
Emaciantur Genae; Cor (beu!) sic dolet, non, ut solet.
Jam cepe olet bene.
Non posthac deglutienda Promulsis de Montgomery ;
Si desit quies plus sex dies^. CEternum valeat Flummerv."
aXA' vrj spcurog riii,\tpujT'Oi, QU V8V, «5" EKai pgyof.
KaAAjoYijf OvvifpiSriS rijv xpxSiriv sratrarijy
TlxXai [itav bv ayujin oravr' aSXa Kottsiv Jixij,
riu yap tps^ovTi, 13 ^xXXoyrt, eui ■ma.prp) tj vixi}.
Nyy 5"ev o-vfa ■sra.psiai;
iSs ro ^Xujpov roiJe. mapSi aXyeiy rvpov ^t-iaru,
l^po^^hva, $' 8}c.6uw3-<3.
4^3
^^ Hymn by the late Duchess of Devonshire. jEt. 13.
*' When I behold with wond'ring eyes
The daily blessings God bestows, A thousand thankful thoughts arise;
My heart with grateful joy o'er flows.
Each flower, each shrub, conspires to sing
The praises of the God on high ; The praises of the eternal King,
Who gave each shrub, each flow'r, its dye.
Who gave the sun its balmy heat ?
Who bids the thunder loudly roll r Who made the universe complete,
And form'd the earth from pole to pole? With me in Hallelujahs join
To sing our holy Maker's praise; ' In choral hymn, or song divine.
In prayer and thanks our voices raise."
N.B. The continuation of the Story of Longford came too late for insertion in the present Number.
Art. XV. Address to Time.
INSCRIBED TO THE EDITOR OF "CENSURA LITERARIA."
Oh ! Time, thou shadow of enormous growth. Pacing with silent stride this checqucr'd world,
A giant unperceiv'd ! — in thy swift march
What
4H
What havoc hast thou seen of men and things.
Of states and citiesj cities great as our's
Bow'd to the earth, entombing their proud founders.
With them the living mass that throng'd the streets^
The active crowd, the breathing multitude!
The dust of desolation covers all !
* • * * »
Time on his hasty pilgrimage hath mark'd The dismal change, and blush'd as he sped on, ' Too conscious of th' irremeable deed; From Memory lock'd all knowledge of th' event. And given the key to Ignorance ! Mother Earth,; How many a scornful beauty dost thou clasp j How many a pompous thing of titles vain. Bloated with pride and gorg'd with luxury, ' Lies huddled in the narrow house of death, - A sav'ry banquet for tiie glutton Worm ! How many heroes crimson'd oer with blood, A spectacle abhorred of their Godj How many kings of sable character, Whom scarce this globe's vast limits could contain,- Clipt in the grave and happily forgot ! These we lament not! — but shall Genius die? Is there no distance 'twlxt the common mind. The worldling's, cumber'd with its native clayj And his who, shaking off this mortal coil. Soars on the wings of high inspired thought. Full of the emanation of his God?
Th^e is: — the piiilosophic sage feels this. When, cheer'd by Truth's bright rays, he penetrates In quest of lone Obscurity's dun vale. And tracing Science to her inmost depth. Reveals to man the hidden cause of things. The Patriot feels it, fir'd with just disdain To see his country's senate sunk in vice. And strains his lungs, confronting the foul tribe;
Boldly
4^5
BoWly asserts an injur'd people's cause,
Spite of their venal bickerings!
And yet the Poet feels it greater still 1
Say, oh ye amiable Sons of Song,
How vast the distance 'twixt your bliss and theirs?
Whether meek slaves to Pity's dewy eyes
Ye drop the tear upon your plaintive harps.
Melting in all the ecstasy of love;
Or wak'd to higher theme exalt your strains.
Coasting Imagination's boundless field,
Ethereally sublime! — How far aloof
Sit those who glory in the minstrel's lore,
Glad to appreciate his genuine worth j
Belov'd enthusiasts! who delighted woo
The raptures flitting from the well sv^^ept string I
Theirs is the transport, pure as gifted bards.
As round their heads angelic visions float.
The sweet illusions of embody'd thought
Shook from ten thousand symphonies!
Dear to the Muse is ev'ry honor'd name
That calls to light the long forgotten Bard,
And gives the guerdon to his merit due;
Plucks the dark veil from Time's retentive grasp.
And plants eternal laurels on his tomb!
Finis. T. J.
Art. XV^I. On the Basia of Secundus : and Stan- ley's Poems.
TO THE EDITOU OF CENSURA LITERARIA. SIR,
Through the medium of your very valuable and amusing monthly pubUcation, I shall perhaps obtain a piece of information I have long desired. You doubtless are well aware, that the first poetical version
of
of the Basia of Johannes Secundus complete came" out 1732, printed in i2mo. by Henry Lintot, and embel- lished with two beautiful engravings of Secundus, and his mistress Julia, by Bernard Picart. Who was the author of that Translation has often been inquired; but it has not hitherto been ascertained : yet a clue would seem afforded to that knowledge, in a Disser. tation to Sir Richard Mede, Bart, prefut to tlie Poems, and in another at the end of them. From the one we learn, p. 14, that he had travelled in Holland with Sir Richard (perhaps as tutor or companion) and in the other, p. 92, he acknowledges to have given a specimen of an intended publication of Anacreon, Moschus, L. Bion, translated at the end of Mr. Ster- ling's Musaus, Your familiarity with literary anec- dote may perhaps point out the author in question.
You cannot but know, I presume, that Mr. Stanley, author of the Lives of the Philosophers, first gave the Basia of Secundas, at least the greater part of them, ■an English dress, which he published in a'collection of his Poems, 1651. This collection contains complete versions of Anacreon, Moschus, Bion, and the Ptrvi- gtlium Veneris, accompanied with notes, denominated Excitations. Mr. Stanley's Poems'^ are well worthy your attention, Mr. Editor,
* Stanley's Poeihs are very scarce, and sell at an high price. They have only once been seen by the present Editor. An account of the author may bs found in Wood's Ath. 1. F. 284. Sse also Nichols's Collection of Poems, VII. 59— VIII. 3 It.
In the parish register of Bishopsbourne in Kent, is the followin^entry of the poe/s father and mother— ** Oct. 1 5, 1621, married Thomas Stanley, Gent, and Mary Hammon," daughter of Sir WilUam Hammond of St. Al- ban's Court in Nonington. Editor.
The E 'itor will fesl obliged to any Correspondent who will answer these fueries.
There
417
There is another book, that occurs to my recollec- tion, which, if extracted from by you. Sir, might greatly amuse and gratify your readers; it is Deckar's Gull's Hornbook. This work affords a greater insight into the fashionable follies and vulgar habits of Queen Elizabeth's day, than perhaps any other extant. A chapter given by Dodsley at the end of his Collection of Old PlaySf and another !)y Beloe in his Anecdotes of Literature, are the only excerpts I am acquainted with from this curious book.
I am. Sir,
Your constant Reader,
J..N.
Art. XVII. Bibliographical Catalogue.
Art. ]. yl treatise named I^vcasolqce, devided intofower bookes, which in part are collecttd out of diuerse authors in diuerse languages, and in part deuised hy Cyprian Lvcar, gentleman. The contents of the saidfower boohs are declared in the sixt poge. Dispares mores disparia sludia seqiiunlur. Tra sepol-to tesoro, & occuha sap lepza, non si conoscf; aicuna differenza. [Printers device] Imprinted at London by Richard Field fur John Harrison, and are to be sold at kis sh«p in Paules Church yard ai the signs of the Kireyhoiind. JSpO. 4to. pp. idS.
Dedicated "To ihT. Right WorshipfvU bis brother-in- Javir, Maister William Roe^ Esqvier, and Alderman of ihe .honorable citie of London," and devised rather to profit *' fricndes and louing «ountriemen, then to please the eares of the eloquent rethoritian or curious schoolcman, for as a, lofty and long discourse that will make of a molehill a moun- yoL. Tin. a b tainc^
4jB
taine, and of an emmet an elephant, is a thing irkesome vnto them which desire plainnesse and couet breuitie, so a plainc sense with truth and bartie affection vttered to friend is most allowable/' Dated " from ray house in London the 1 day of May in the yeare of the creation of the ^'orld 5552, and in the yeare of our redemption, 15Q0. Your louing brother-in law Cyprian Lvcar."
The work is principally on the art of measuring, and in addition to every page having geometrical lines and angles, are several folding plates. In one is a reprfsentation of a *' kinde of squirt made to holde an hoggeshed of water," for the purpose of extirpating fires, and appears not improbably the origin of the engines now in general use.
Art. 2- ^ short andplaine dialogve concerning the vnlc<w- Julnes of playing at cards or Tables, or any other game con- sisting in chance ; offered to the religious consideration of all such as make conscience of all their waies. 1 Thessal. v. 2\. Trie all things and keepe that which is good. Imprinted at London for Richard Boile. Vlmo. eight leaves.
. By the epistle addressed " to the Right WorshipfvU Master l^ionel Maddison, Maior, the Aldermen, his brethren, and the godly Burgesses of Newcastle vpon Tine; lames Balniford wisheth the kingdorae of God and his righteous- ncsse that other things may be ministred vnto them;" and which concludes " if magistrates, who should not carrie the sword in vaine would doe what they may by law, to banish these forbidden past-times, or rather lost-times, I doubt not but that preaching and writing against them would more mightily preuaile} and this good would come of it, many would applie themselves to better exercises, there would bee lesse time mi-^pent in alehouses and God Icsse prouoked to displeasure against vs. But these things 1 referre to the consideration of the wise, and this my dialogue to the iudge- ment of the godlie, chiefly to you, whose good I wish
especially.
419
especially. Farewell, frora my studie the.first of lanuarie. 1593." The work condemns dice, cafds, tables, and all games of chance or lottery with many scriptural allusions in proof of their unlawfulness. •■
Art. 3. j4 treatise concerning the right vse and ordering of Bees; newlie made and set forth, according to the author's bwne experience : (which ly any heretofore hath not been done). By Edmund Southerne, Gent. Better late then neuer. [Printer's device of two hands clasping, &c. Herbert, 1242.] Imprinted at London, by Thomas Orwinfor Thomas tVoodcocke, dwelling in Paules Church yard at the signe of the Blacke Beare. 1593. 4to. 17 leaves.
An Epistle Dedicatory " to the Right Worshipful! Mis- tres Margaret Astley,* wife to John Astley, Esquier, Master and Treasurer of her Maiestie's Icwcls and Plate, and Gen- tleman of her Highnesse Priuie Chamber." Followed by an address " to the reader." ^
The treatise is divided under various heads, and concludes with the following story.
"' I remember once there was a gentleman, a very friefrd of mine, which had good store of bees, vnto whom the par- don (who yet liueth, and I feare is one of Martin Malapert's house) came and demanded tythe bees. Tythe bees (quoth the gentleman) I neuer yet payd any, neither is it the cus- tome in this parish, and I am loth to be the first that shall bring it vp, and yet I am very willing to pay my dutj honey, money and waxe, you shall haue with al my heart, but bee» cannot be told, therefore how shall I pay them. Told or told not, (quoth the parson) or due or due not, I will haue the tenth swarme, and you were best bring them home to my house. Why, then I might deceive you (quoth the gcn-
• Who was burUi at Maidstone in Kent, lioi } see Gent. Mag. Vol. LVIL p. 54 1.
s B 2 tieman)
. 420
tlcman) and bring you a castling, or an after-swarme for a whole swarrue. Well (quoth the parson) the honey, raoney and W3XC shall make am< nds for that. But you can neuer haue profite of those bees if they be castling!!, (quoth the gentleman) which I brii;g you. Ir is no matter for that, (quoth the parson) bring them me, I pray you. Well it shall be done («(Uoth the gentleman). It fortuned within two dales the gentleman had a great swarme, the which he put into a hiue, and towards night carried them home to the parson's house, the parson with his wife and familic he found at supper in a faire hall, the gentleman saluted them, and told the parson he had brought him some bees. I mary (quoth the parson) this is neighbourly done, I pray you carrie them into my garden. Nay, by my troth (quoth the gentle- man) I will leaue them euen here. With that he gaue the hiue a great knocke against the ground, and all the bees fell out, some stung the parson, some his wife, and some his children and familie, and out they run as fast as they could into a chamber, and well was he could make a shift for him- selfe leaning their raeate vpon the table in the hall. The gentleman went home, carrying his emptie hiue with him. On the next morning the bees were found in a quickset
■ hedge by a poore man, who since hath had good profite of them, and is yet lining. Within foure daics after the gentle- man was cited to appeare before the ordinary j who, when he came, demaunded why he had used the parson alter that maner. Why sir, (quoth the gentleman) I haue not misused him to my knowledge. No, (quoth the parson) did you not make your bees sting me and all my folkes? Not I, (quoth the gentleman) but you would needes haue a swarme of bees, the whiche I brought you home according to your owne request, and left in your hall, and since 1 sawe them not, I but (quoth the ordinary) why did you not let them alone in the hiue? So I would (quoth the gentleman) if they
. bad been in mine owne garden. Why did you not let the
parson
4JI
pnrson hauc the hiue? (quoth the ordinary) I could not spare it (quoth the gentleman), for I boi^ht mjhiue in the market, and I am sure, as couetous as he is, be can hauc no tythe of that which I buy in the market according to the English lawesj but I did by his bees as he willed me, and as I iiaue done by all his other tythes, which I haue euer left in his hall, and so I did>these, and yet there was no bees euer deraaunded for tythcs in bur parish till now, and besides, the statutes for tythes in this case prouided is on my side, but honey, money and waxe he shall haue with a good will And that is not much amisse (quoth the ordinary). So noting the circumstances of every cause, gaue sentence that both of them should stand to their owne charges. So tliey were contented, and afterward became friends, and if they dos not well, I pray God we may. Finis."
Art. 4. Poor Roiins perambulation from Saffron- JFalden to London, performed this month of Jvly iQys. JVith al- lowance July 11, 16/8, Ro. L' Estrange. London: Printed
for T. E. and are to be sold by the general assembly (f
fiawkers. 1678. 4to. pp. 22.
A perambulation in verse, now become curious by the local notice of various places. The title is contradicted, as the author afterwards states his journey commencing on Saint Andrew's day in th-^ preceding November. This •tippling itinerant started from the Rose and Crown, accom- panied with convivial friends, to Audley enJ, alias Niiicveh, •where they di\ide.
*' The first town I came to was Wenden nam'd.
Who hate Eighth Henry, though a king much fam'd ;
The reason cf the same they understand,
Ht was the first man ever wore a band,
And that's a fashion to which theyll not come.
As being chargeable aad troublefiome.
Therefore.
4^4
Therefore without bands commonly they go. By which sign you a Wendcn-man may know."
He drinks at Sparrow's end, &c. At Newport, although not pressed by hunger, he eats o^
" Some ribs of pork new kill'd, broil'd on a gridiron
Of seven ribs, three on ca;ch side and one ftiidiron."
This iron bound hitch into rhime may be added to the
collection in Bysche. At Pye-corner, where the liquor made
the tongue run and legs cripples, the rule of the hostess
was no penny no paternoster j for
" — if the purse chance to be in the wane. Then you may call, and call, and call againj You have free liberty for to begone sir. For quickly come, is turn'd anon, anon sir!"* At Eastwick, Nantz-brandy is described as superior to •Ambrosia, Metheglin, Usquebah, Perry, Worcester-cider, Brunswick -mum, liquorish Steponey, Bracket, Cardimurfi, Rosa-solis and Aqua-vitae. Crosses the new river at Stan» sted-deli by the Rye through Hoddesdon to Waltham-Cross, (having noticed the subterraneous passage from Cheshunt nunnery to Waltbam-abbey;) where he gives the history of Queen Eleanor from Fuller, Speed, and Walsinglara. Enumerates the several crosses, and that Charing-cross " was by the rump, that maggot-end of a parliament, pulled down ; to such uncertain periods come oftentimes the fairest structures, as tliis which was built of marble, and therefore the more subject to the covetousness of avaritious hands. Thus, as John Taylor hath it,
• Old Charing-Cross that lasted many lives. Is turn'd to saltsellers and hafts of knives.'
But this Cross at Waltham being not so rich, escaped ruin, though time hath made it something ruinous in respect of its former beauty and splendour. But enough of this Cross,
* tf tind bj ; to uied by Shakipcarc In botl^ parti of Ucn>7 IV-
lest
423
legt T cross my reader with the tediousness of the relation." At Endficld stood a house
" call'd old Joan's, but wherefore so.
To tell to you the truth T do not know;
Nor can we ought of its antiquity read.
In learned Cambdcn, or laborious Speed;
For had they at the same but tope't their nose,
They would have writ of it I do suppose;
Nor did John Taylor, the brave water-poet.
In all his rambling travels surely know it;
For honest John did ne'er commit that crime,
To drink good ale, and mention not the sign." The Blew Bell at Edmonton introduces Peter Faber de- ceiving the devil; at Newington the signs and handsome hostesses implied jack-daws may be caught by rooks, and Kingsland, producing a similar reflection, brings the author's best couplet :
"From thence iny course to London I do bend,
And at the City made my journey's End."
Art. 5. The Araingment of lewde, idle, froward, and vn- constant women; or the vanitie of them, choose you whether. With a Commendaciun of ivise vertiious and honest IVumen. Pleasant for married men, proji table for young in en, and Jiurtfull to none. London : Printed by Edw. Aide for Tho- mas Archer, and are to be solde at his shop in Pope's-head Pallace nere the Roy all Exchange. lQ\5. [Reprinted for M. Stace, Middle Scotland Yard, I8O7.] 4/o, pp. 64.
Art. 6. Ester hath hang'd Harnan ; or an ansvvere to a lewd pamphlet, entituled, the Arraignment of Women. With the arraignment of lewd, idle, froward and vnconstant men, and "vsbands. Diuided into two parts; the first prouetk the dignity and worthinesse of Women out of diuine Testi- monies. The second shewing the estimation of the Faeminine sexe, in ancient and pagan times ; all which is acknowledged iy men themselues in their daily actions. JFrittcn by Ester t Soweraam,
424
Sowernam, neither mdide, wife, nor wtdctowe, yet really all, and therefore- experienced to defend all. John, vlii. /"• He that is without sinne among you, let himfirst cast a stone at her, '
Neque enim lex iusticior vlla Quam necis arlificem arte psrire sua.
London : Printed for Nicholas Bourne, and are to he sold at his shop at the entrance of the Royall Exchange, 1617. [Reprinted ut sup.] Ato. pp. 53.
The republication of these rare tracts is with such minute attention to typographic similarity as to render the scarcity of the old copies immaterial. To ensure general circu- lation and accommodate readers wlio feel interested in the manners of society, and in the page of the satirist seek for a trait of the age gone by, the reprint is at a price that merely covers the expense.
Conduit street. J.H,
Art. XVIT[. Literary Ohituai-y.
18C8. May . At his villa, called "The Nursery," near Oswestry, Shropshire, aged sixty-eight, John Dovaston, Esq. who had made great antiquarian and scientific collections. His MSS. were always open for the inspection of ths curious.
J-uly 22. At Edinburgh, set. fifry-six, after a long and painful illness, Henry William Tytler, M.D. author of the Translation of Callimachus, and several other literary works.
Aug. . Lady Diana Beauclerc, relict of the Hon. Top- ham Beauclerc, and sister to the Duke of Marlborough and the Dowager Countess of Pembroke. Her designs for, Leo- nore and Dryden's Fahtes are wdl known.
Aug. 16. Dr. Osborne, M.D. formerly of Hanover-Square, and late of Old Park, near Dover.
To Correspondents.
The Reply of P. M. to S. on the merits of Grotiii?, having been only re- ceived on the i5di instunr, is nccessar.ly postponed on account ot' the Index, &c. which c aiii a place in the present Nuniber. The Norwich Communi- eatioD it postponed for the same reason.
GENERAL
GENERAL INDEX.
A.
Abbot, Dr. Gto. 76
Abfeiice, a poem on, 250
Adam, arms, 147
Addrefs, Poetical, to E M. 328
' ' to aTuif, 331
Admonition, friendly, a poem, 153
Adrian, j 64
O-'.lianns, Emperor, 171
CEliui, Emnei-jr, 171
^iieid o: Virgil, tranflated by Gawen Dougl.is, 37 J account o<, 37 ; col- lated tianfiript of laft kif", 37
Allcin, M.fa, iOj
Aicida, 387
Aldcn, aims, 149
Alexander, Jannaeus, 66, 15S
Alphonfus, fCi-^g or Ara^^oii, ^89
•' ■ , K;ng of Anuria, 31
Angel, arms, 266
Annet, P'ter, ob. 1 10
Antigonus, 163
Arabians and Moors, Chronicle of, 29
Arballo, 390
Arcadia, or Menaphon, 3S6
A:ift;bulus, 66
Anns, Giits of, by Camden, 140, 266,
393 Aniby,Rev Geo. oh. ^},6 Aftley, Mrs. Margaiet, 419, ^twell. Rev. Dr. ob. 223 Atwili, aimi, 148
B.
B-iker, nrms, 14S Bancroft, Dr. Rd. 76 Barbar, arms, 393 Barcocheba-!, 5S, 158, &c. Barnrc, arm^, 147 Barnwell, arms, 141
VOL. Till.
Baronage of Dugdale, its charaiSer, 1 14,
US Barry, Capt. Gerat, his Difcourfe on
Military Difcipline, account of, 240;
dedication, .[41 ; contents, 242 ; cx-
tradls, ?43, 247 Barrymure, Earl, 24 1 Barthelemy, his dilbibutlon of Jewish
coins, i;?, 160 Bafnage, 69 Bath, Lord, ob. 222 Bathurft, arms, 267 Bayer, 65, 160, 16^ Beauclerc, Lady Diana, ob. 424 Bedwell, arrrs, 267 Bees, Treatifi en the ordering of, by
Edm. Southsrne, 419 Rennet, arms, 141 Birch, Dr. ob. 122 Birher, 164, 165 ; fiege of, 1J9 Black Book's Meflen-er, 3SS Blandford, Marqviis of, 354 Blount, Martha, 199
■ ,ob. 221
Bolton, arms, 262 Bolton, Dr. ob. 221 Book-Sales, Report of, 212 Bour n, Duke of, his daughter, 34 Bourses, arms, 147 . Bowden, arms, 270 Bowfer, arm , 140 Breefly, arms, 266 B.ent, arms, 143 Breretoii, Tho. ob. 222 Blight, arms, 14S
Bridges, family of Woodchefter, pedi- gree of, 143 Broad, arms, 14 J Brow:i, arms, 147 B.ook, arms, 140 Bruges, arms, 143 Ei-yant's Mythology, 205
425
INDEX,
Bugg, arms, 39a BuUein's Bulwark, 37; Burgundy, Charles, Duke of, 351 Burton's Leicefterfhire, 239 Buxtorf, 171 Byndon, Vifct. 3^9
C.
Camp, arm«, 392
Cannon, arms, 14.6
Cajjper, etymology of, $J
Card of Fancy, 3S8
Cards and gaming, dialogu* on, 418
Carr's Mahometan, or Turkiih Hif- tory, extrafta from the commenda- tory verfes to, 149
Carter, Mrs. exlra^s from her Letters,
197
Cary, arms, 145
Caftle of Health, by Sir Tho. Eliot, ac- count of, 20 j various editions, ii. ; Mtraft from " Prohtme," iL ; di- vifion of the work, 23 ; fpecimens, aji 26, 27
Cawley, arms, 141
Caxton, W. an account of a new-dlf- covered iraft, fuppofed to be printed by him, 352
Chaucer's Seven Deadly Sins in his Parfon's tale, 77
Chcfterfield's Letters, 204
Cholwill, arms, 1 46
Churchill, Cha. ob. 222
Churchyard, T. verfes by, 178
Ciceronis Amor, 388
Clare family, ancient Earls of Glou- cefter, 116
Clarlflk, 199
Clay, arms, 391
Clerk, arms, 269
Cobden, Dr. ob. 222
Codrington^ arms, 141 ,
Collins, arms, 142
Collins, Arthur, his Peerage, 115
Collinfon, Peter, ob. 223
Comb, arms, 270
Conny catching, 387
Conftable, on the ofiice of, 403
Cook, arms, 391
Coofenage, difcovery of, 387
Cordall, arms, 142
Coryat, Tho. an original letter of, 73
Coventry, arm^, 141
Coulf, arms, 149
Couper, arms, 14S
Cran", arms, 141
Cranfield, arms, 14J
Cripps, R. his curious Greek MS. de- fcribcd by Dr. Raine, 214
Criticifm, modern, defeAs of, 57 Crofs, arms, 392 Cruden, Alex. ob. j 1 1 Cunningham, Dr. W. 370
D.
Dale, arms, 147
Dalrymple, Alex. ob. 336
Davis, Sir John, his Epigrams, 122; fpecimens of, 123, 127
Dawes, arms, 271
Deal, arms, 148
Death, a picfervative ag»inft, an ethi- cal dlfcourfe, by Sir Tho. Eliot, 25 1 j dedication to, 2j;2 ; fpecimen, 254
Exhortation againft the chan- ces of, tranflated from Erafmus, ind printed by Berthelet, 256
De Beft, arms, 268
De La Fountain, arms, 169
Delany, Dr. ob. 223
Derby, Lord, his Traft on the Protef- tant Religion, 235
Derrick, Mr. ob. no
Dibdin's edition of Mere's Utopia, 210
■ " new edition of Herbert and
Ames, 354
Difputation of Conny Catching, 387
Dix, arms, 143
Dobbins, arms, 266
Dodfley, Rt. ob. 222
Doraftus and Fawnia, 386
Dorfet, Charles, Duke of, ob. no
Douglas Gawen (fee ^neid.)
Douglas Caufe, Lord Mansfield's Speech on, 97; Preident Dundas's on do. 271
Douglas, Lady Jane, her Letter to Mr. Pelham, 108
Dovafton, John, ob. 424
Draper, arms, 144
Duck, arms, 270
Ducy, arms, 269
Dugdale, (fee Hornby.)
Duhamel's edition of the Vulgate, 335
Duke, arms, 268
Duncombe, Wm. ob. 1 10
Dundas, Prefident, his Speech on the Douglas Caufe, 271
E.
Eccentric charafter. Story of, iSo, 322
Effingham, Lord, 29
Eliz. Q^ verfes by Churchyard on the
Earl of Leiceftef receiving her, 178 Egmont, John, Earl of, ob. in Eliot, Sir Tho. his Caflell of Health, 20;
INDEX.
427
loj his Prefervatlve againft Death,
^S Elliot, arms, 147 Emma, Fair, 390 England, Dan. ob. 22Z Epicureus of Erafmus, a tranilation of,
25S ; a trad in dialogue, 261 Epigrams, (fee Davis) Epiftle, poetical,to a friend, 82 ; another,
Erafmus, tranflatlons from, 256, 2^8
Efle^arms, 146
Eflex Champion ; or hiftory of Sir
Billy of Billericay, account of, 225 ;
an imitation of Cervantes, 226 Eflex, Lord, 237 Efther hath hang'd Haman, an anfwer
to the arraignment of lewd women,
413 Eftimate, true, of life, by Young, 201 Euphues, Cenfure, 386 Ixchange, Royal, 387
F.
FairBellora, 389
Families, 00 the decay of, 138
Fielding, his Tom Tones, contrafted
with Richardfon's Clariffa, 199 Fielding, Sarah, ob. 223 Fiflier, arms, 147 Floures of Philofophie, (fee Plat) Follie and Love, debate between, 3 89 Folville, arms, 141 Forfter, Sir Mich, ob. 221 Fowler, arm*, 140
Friendfhip, unentitled ftanzas on, 179 Fryer Bacon and Frier Bungay, hiftory
of, 388
G.
Galatinus, Petrus, Inquiry concerning,
i ' information of, 174, 316,
334. 39j Gale, Tho. furgeon, 370 Gaming, Dialogue on, 41S Ganz, Jcwilh hiftorian, 1 59 Garfet, arms, 392 Gafcoigne, G. head of, 124, n. Gervis, arms, 145 Gibbon, John, herald, 141 Gib cat, an attempt to explain that ex-
prclTioB, 232 Gilchrift, Mr. 380 Glover, arms, 141, 270 Gofton, arms, 270
Goldfmlth's Vicar of Wakefield, a 05
Goodwin, arms, 270
Gourney, arms, 270
Grainger, Dr. ob. 109
Gray, arras, 142
Gray, John, ob. no
Green, arms, 140
Greene's Ghoft, 390
Neuer too late, account of, 7 j
ftory of, 8, 9, to 17 ; extract, 11 — Second Part, 133 ; precepts of
wit, ijj} fonnet, 136; ftory con- tinued, 137, 140
-- Poet's Vifion, 391
Greene raifed from his Grave, 391
Greene's Vifion, 388
■ Funerals, ih.
Greene, Robt. biographical memoir of, 380} Lift of his Works, 386
Greene's Farewell, 390
Grey, Dr. Zachary, ob. 222
Groatfworth of Wit, 387
Grotius, criticifm on his theological writings, 92 ; they are charafterized by too great a regard for Talmudic fables and interpretations, 93, 334 ; his epitaph, 96
■, Defence of, in reply to the above criticifm, 303, 39S
Grove, Jof. ob. 222
Gull, epigram on one, 123
Gathrie, Wm. ob. no
H.
Hales, arms, 267
Hall, arms, 145
Hardwicke, Ld. ob. 22I
Hare, arms, 146
Hameriley, arms, 14S
Harington, Sir J. his Metamorphofis of
■Ajax, 349 m- ■ ■ ■ ■, arms, 269 Harris, Rev. Mr. ob. no Harfnet, arms, 146 Harvey, Gabriel, 382, 383 Haward, arms, 267 Haycj, arms, 149 Heath, arms, 269 Health, Caftie of, (fee Eliot) Hcathcote, Rt. his library, 213 Helborn, arms, 268 Henley, arms, 146 Henrion, 69, 163 Henry VIL infcrlption on his tomb,
.'32 -
Henry, Prince of Wales, 7j Herick, arms, 141 ' Hero and Leander, 3S6 T T z Hey wood.
428
INDEX.
Hcy^J''bod, epigrammatl*, is^ H'ckes, Sir Mich. 74 Highlands of Scotland, diffiju'ty in fur. veying, 41 ; cabins there defcribed, 4.3, 50; modes of life, li. ; provi- fions, 47 ; towns there, 53 ; change- houfes, 54
Hill, arms, 14Z ', arms, 149
Hillary, Dr. ob. 221
Hitcham, arms, 141
Hixon, arms, 268
Hobbs, arms, 271
Hobeck, arms, 145
Holford, arms, 39
Honor, Morgan's Treatlfe on, 235
Hooke, Nath. ob. 221
Hornby's Letters on the errors of Dug- dale's Baronage, account of, 113; criticifm on, 114; extradts from, 115; fecond letter, 116; fpecimen of, Ih. J general charadler of the Ba- ronage, 118, 119
Houflbn, arms, 140
Howard, Dr. Leon, ob, 110
Hoyle, Edm. ob. 210
Hull, John, his Chirurgery, account of, 369 ; fpecimens of, 37 1
■ ■, arms, 267
Hume and Rouleau, their quarrel, 20^
Hurd, Bp. ob. 223
Hurwitx, Mr. 173
Button, Hen. his follie's Anatomic- Satires, account of, 347 ; full ex- trafts, 348; his Epigrams, 350, 351
Huxham, Dr. John, ob 223
Hyrcanus, Johaimes, 6j, 158
Ingram, Mr. 74
James, IV. hlftory of, jSj
Jervis, arras, 147
Jewjfli Coinv, inquiry into, J7, 15S
Job, hiftory of, 390
Johnfon, arms, 392
Jonfon, Ben, 384
■, his tranfldtlon of one of
Ovid's Elegies, 120 Jortin, Dr. ob. 1 n Jugling, the Art of, account of that
^°^f J74 5 wriuen by Sa. Rid. and
not by Greene, 375 j extratts from,
376,380
Kelham, Rt. ob. iit Kercher, arms, 140 K-itchinman, arms, %6S Knight, arms, 145 Knighdey, arms, 39J
L.
Lake, Sir Ja. W. his Library, 213
Lanfranke of Mylayne, his Chirurgia Parva, anciently tranflated from the French, 370
Langley, arms, 141
Lardner, Dr. Nath.ob. 223
Leatt, arms, 267
Le Clerc, 307
Leman, arms, 148
Lenox, Stuart, Duke of, 359
Lever, Ral|<h, his Art of Reafon, ac- count of, 341 ; extraft horn the qnftle dedicatory, 343; fpecimen of the book, 346
Lewis, his hiftory of Great Britain, 365
Lhuyd's Itifh Didionary, 48
Licence to live at Eafe, an old poem, 77
Ligen, arms, 269
Li Hie, \Vm. 118 .
Lifle, Dr. ob. 109
Lifter, arms, 142
Literary man, complain of, 406
Lobb, Dr. The. ob. 221
Lodge, Edm. 19
Long, Dr. Roger, ob. 1 1 1
Longford (fee Eccentric Charadler.)
Love, perfuafion againft, a poem, 155
Lover, complaint of, a poem, 154 another, 157
Louis XL hiftoire de, 250
Lowth, Bp. 315
Loyd, Rt. ob. 222
Lucar, Cyprian, his Treatlfe on Mca-
furing, 41 S Lucafolace, a Treatife ca Meafuring,
417 Luckyn, arms, 391 Lud'>lf, i6S Luther, arms, 147 Lyttclton, Lord, his Monody, acs , Bj). ob. 223
M.
Maccabre, Simon, coins of, 5S Macdiarmid, Mr. ob. in Maddifon, Lionel, 4 1 1 Mahomet, 29
Mahometan
INDEX.
42§
Mahometan hift.Tv, (fee Carr.)
Maidlton, arms, 391
Ma!let, David, ob. 223
Mamillia, 388
JVlansfield, Lord, his Speech on the
Dougijs Caufe, 97 Manwaring, Rulpn, (fee Vienna.) Maigaret, Lady, fiit«r to the King of
England, 34 Mjrlow, Chiiftopher, his trandatlon of Ovi'l's Elegies, account of, 119; fpecimen, 120 Maiflidl, armn, ^^z Martin, Dr. ob. ai2 Mary, Q^of Scots, her luxury, 19 rvIaCqueiado, Spamfli, 587 Matters, Certain, compofed together, containing the genealogy of the Kings of Scotland, with lifts of the Nobility, &c. 359; an extiadl from, 360; further extradts, j6i, 364. Mauffacus, 395 Meafuring, Treatife on, 417 Melancholy, private, expreffcd in two
poetical epiftlcs tj friends, 8i, 87 Melbourn, arms, 148 Mennes, Sir John, poet, 267 — — — , arms, 267 Meyrick, Jus. ob. no Mihie Mumchanee, 390 Military Difcipline (fee Barry) Millar, Andr. ob. 223 Millet, arms, 267 Mills, arms, 146 Miiner, arms, 142 Milton, Mrs. ob. no Mirrour of Madiiefs, tranflated from the French by James Sanford, 17 j prefatory lines, ib. ; fpecimen, i 8 Mirror of Modcfty, by Greene, 386 Mitchell, Dr. ob. 222 Monardo, by Greene, 386 Montfaucon, his French antiquities,
202
More, Sir Tho. his Utopia, 210 Morgan, Sylvanus, his Treatife of
Honor, a MS. account of, i^j Moulfon, arms, 270 Mountain, arms, 145 Moonteney, Rd. ob. 223 Mourning Garment, 387 Mudge, Zach. ob. 110 Mumford, Dan. his library, 213 Murden, arms, 268 Murray, Mungo, ob. in
N.
Narciffus, Ovid's Fable of, tranflated, 337 i fuppoftd to be by T. Howell,
338; fpecimen of, 339; moralifi- tion of it, 330; Ipecimeii, 340
Neal, arms, 142
Neliumias, a j.wifli doQor, 95, 174, 316, 395
Never too Ltc, 387
Newbeiy, John, ob. no
News from Heaven and H^n» 38S
Newton, T. (fee Saracens.)
Norris, arms, 270
North, Sir Edw. 252
Nortiiover, arms, 147
o.
Oat cakes in the Highlands, 51 Obituarj, Liteiary, 1 n, 923, 336, 42.^ Oldfield, arms, 267, 270 Onkncuj, Vitalis, 117 Off id. Earl of, his Royal and NobJc
Authors, 203 Origen, 309 Orlando, Furiofo, 389 Orpharion, 387 Orpwood, arms, 39* Olborne, Dr. ob. 424
, Tho. ob. IC9
Otrant:, Caftie of, 205
Othoman, Emperor of the Turks, 29
Ottius, 5y, 61, 163, 166, ScCi
Outlaw, arms, 145
Overbury, Sir Tho. 384
Ovid's Elegies, (fee Marlow.)
P.
Pandofto, 386
Pan'on, arms, 149
Faradife of Daiaiy Devlfes, extraQ*
from, 151 Paramour, arms, z66 Paris, Sir, a kn'ght in romance, 34 Paull, Jas. OL). 112 Puynell, arms, 391 Pclerin, 65 Penelope's Web, 389 Perambulatisn of Poor Robin, 421 Perceforeft, la hiftoire du, 218 Percy, Rev. Tho. ob. iiz Periinedes, ;86 Pierfon,'arms, 266 Pinner, arms, 270 Philo, author of the Book of Wifdom,
^76, 355> 400 . Philomela, 388
Philofjpher's Game, by R. Lexer, 34^ Plat, or Plot, Sir Hugh, his Fioure^ of
Philofophie, poems, account of i • preface.
430
INDEX.
pref«c«, s ; contents, 3 ; fpecunens,
4>S. 6 Platt, srms, 170 Pocock, Bp. Rd. ob. 212 Poetry, Old, 77, 178, 318, 401 Poetical Fragments, 4 Politianui Angelas, 75 Pompanius Ltetus, 1 30 Pope, edition of hi» worki by Warbur-
ton, 198 ; its charadlerilUcs, 199 Porchet, 96, 395 Pordage, Sam. his Poems, account of,
247, and of the author, 24S ; fpeci-
mens, 249, 250 Poftlethwayte, Mai achy, ob. 109 Povey arms, 148 Power, arms, 271 Poyntell, arna, 142 Pozolo, city, 1 30 Prannel, Citizen, 3^9 Preflley, armi, 269 Prettiman, arms, 142 Promife is debt, a poem, 156 Proteftant Religion, Lord Derby's
Traft on, 235 Proteft on Douglas Caufc, 107 Proud, arms, 140 Pfahnanazar, ob. 221
Quintin, a defcription of, 232 Quip for a Courtier, 388
Rainey, arms, 270
Rawdon, arms, 269
Raymond, Martin, 96, 304 ; his Puglo Fidei, 174,316, 335, 395 , Ld. his library, 213
Reade, arms, 2 70
Reland, 59, 61, 64, 163, 166, Sec.
Repentance of R. Greene, j88
Richardfon, 199 (fee Fielding.) -, Wm. ob. 1 10
Rime, Romifli, an Anfwcr to, being a (founter-Ballad on that occalion, ac- count of, 364 j fpeciiiiens, 367
Ripley, Sir Geo. Induftion to his Com- pound, 318
Ritfon, J. 338
Roberts, arms, 147 , arms, 148
Robin, Poor, his Perambnlation from Saffron Wulden, 421
Ralph, arms, 391
Roncevalles, battle of, defcribed by T.
Newton, 30 Roads, new, in Scotland, Remarks on
the Third Rc;)ort of the Commiflio-
ncrs, 40 ; furveyors, their difficultiei
in pcribrming their ta(k, defcribcd
with humour, 41, 57 Roo, W.liiam, Alderman, 417 Rofemiiller, 311
RouiTeau, (fee Hume) his charaAer, 206 Rowbach, arms, 146 Roy, Lieut. 41 Ruf^head, Owen, ob. 1 10 Rugeway, arms, 270 Ruminator, N". XXXIV. p. 82;
XXXV.S7;XXXVL jijXXXVII.
180; XXXVIII. 187; XXXIX.
193; XL. 322; XLI. 329; XLII.
406 } XLIII. 409 Ruilell, arms, 268 , John, Ambaflador of Edward
IV. his fpeech to Charles Duke of
Burgundy, 352
S.
Sacker, arms, 149
Salifbury, Robt. ift Earl of, 76
Sanford, James, his Mirrour of Mad-
nefs, 17 Saracens, hiftory of, compiled by Tho.
Newton, account of, 28 j preface,
ib. ; fpecimen 30 Sare, arms, 148 Sayer, arms, I46 Scaliger, 170 Schemoun, 165 Schomburgh family, 12S Schorer, Mr. ob. 222 Scott, Jonathan, his MSS. 212 Seal, arms, 142 Seeker, Abp. ob. 223 Secundus, his Bafia, 41$ Sermon, Funeral, of P. Gregory, 386 Shaw's Gaelic Dictionary, 48, 57 Shenftone, Wm. ob. 221 Shepheard, arms, 266 Shepherd, arms, 142 Short, arms, 148 Shrewibury, Lord, 19 Shute, arms, 266 Shuter, arms, 147 Skeres, arms, 1 42 Smith, Dr. ob. 222 — — , arms, 146, 268, 391 Somers, arms, 142 Song, modern, 19$ Sonnet by Greene, 13^ Souch, aims, 140
Southeraf,
INDEX.
431
Southerne, Edm. (fee Bees.)
Spencer, PjuI, ob. 109
Suencc, Rev. Mr. ob. aij
Sj>iIIcr arms, 146
Spring, arms, 392
Squire, Bp. ob. zzz
Sralber, iirms, i,|0
Stanley, Tlio. his poems, 416
Stephens, aims, 140
Sterne, his writings an.l charafter, 207
— — , Laur. ob. azz
Story, a myfterious oiie, 1 80
Stulceley, Dr. cb. zzz
Swayne, arms, 269
Swiit, Mri. Ciirter's opinion of, 109
Syrian coins, 6 1
Talbot, Mifs, her letters and charafter,
197; ob. no Tavcriier, arms, 146 Tayl«r, Rev. Tho. hii library, 213 Tcmpleman, Dr. Pet. ob, 1 10 Thieves falling out, true men come by
their goods, 390 Thornton, Bonne], ob. 223 Thwaits, arms, 392 Time, poetical addrefs to, 413 Titus, 64
Tom Jones (fee Fielding.) Tonfon.arms, 269 Tonfon, Jacob, ob. 109 Townfliend, Marquis, his library, 212 Trajan, coins of, 58 Treheron, arms, 268 Tripp, arms, 266 Troyes, Jean de, his hiftoire dc Louis
XI. 220 Tribulacyon, XII Profites of, a treatife
printed by W. de Worde, 3 4; fpeci-
mens giv.-'.n, collated with an ancient
M.S. 355 Tiirler, Jerome, his Traveller, account
of, 127 i extrafts, 129, 132 Twifden, Sir Roger, 359 Tytler, W. H. ob. 424
V.
Vacelnation, fome curious faftj and re- marks on, 176 Vicar of Wakcfitld, by Goldfnnith, 209
Vienna, a romantic novel, account of, 33; wrifen by Ralph Manwjring, 3^ Vienna, daughtef of the Dauphin, 34 Voltaire, his weak argumcDts, 206
W.
Wagftaff, arms, 267
Walte, arms, 142
Wakeman, arms, 266
Walpole (fee Orford.)
Walter, aims, 145
Walthew, arms', 142
Warburton (fee Pope.)
Warner, Dr. Ferd. ob. 223
Warren, arms, 392
Waterhouft, Edw. 236
Watkinfon, Dr. ob. 109
Watts, arms, 149 *
Weld, arms, 141
Welles, arms, 148
Weftrow, arms, 145
Whitaker, Laurence, 75
Whitfield, Rev. Geo. ob. lit
Whitfunday, poem on, 155
Wightwick, arms, 143, 145
V/iJliamfon, arms, 391
Willoughby of Parham, Ld. ob. 2^2
Wilfon, Cha. Hen. ob. ua
Wife, Fran. ob. 109
Wjtcraft, expofition of the term, 541
Wither's Letters of Advice on the choice of Knights and Burgeffet to Parlia- ment, 261 } a fcaice tradl, ih. j fpe- cimens of, 262, 265
, his Abufei Stript, 347
Withie, arm?, 267
Wollafton, arms, 392
Women, Lewd, the Arraigameiit of.
Wood, arms, 140
-, Rev. W. ob. 112 Wright, Sir Martin, ob. 109
Yorke, Cha. epitaph on, 21 1, ob. no Young, arms, 148
■ -, Dr. Ewd. ob. 222
's Night Thoughts, opinion on^
200, 201 ; his converfjtlon , :t. Youth, poem on the inftibiiity of, 151
IKD OF THE EIGHTH VOLUMJE.
T. Benfley, Printer, Mcil Court, Fleet Sutet, London.
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