GIFT OF
Twl TQC; F
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
\o U) i ^ /?5V
. Cafoier.ly (Wftrt, CiU&sUt>fc - owl faced wtJL Steel Iry
trt
BY ROBERT BLAK&Y Ph, D.
o
IN
NEW MASKS
BY
EOBEKT BLAKEY, PH. D,
ATTTHOB OP "THE HISTOEY OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF MIND," ETC., ETC.
" It is often both profitable and pleasant to wander a little from the beaten
tracks of knowledge, into the lanes and by-paths of literature." SHENSTONE.
LONDON:
W. KENT & CO, (LATE D, BOGUE), 86, FLEET STEEET.
MDCCCLIX.
[The Eight of Translation is Reserved.']
LONDON:
THO1TAS HARBILD, p ^f( fR , SALISBURY SQUARE,
FLEET STREET.
PREFACE.
A PREFACE to a book is generally something which
the Author wishes to communicate to the Reader in a
somewhat private and confidential manner. The
document, whether long or short, contains matter
which is to be uttered in subdued and familiar
accents not in that formal and professional tone
which the Writer would use to the world at large.
Indeed, a Preface is a private and privileged com-
munication, dashed off with a careless air, and under
a kind of pleasing impression that his labours have
just come to a close, and that he has now time to be
quite easy and natural.
The chief feature in most Prefaces is of an apolo-
getical character. Some shortcomings have to be
acknowledged, some oversights to be atoned for, or
some mental deficiencies to be lamented. In fact,
these effusions are indisputable memorials of that
imperfection which appertains to all things human,
and to literary labours among the rest.
I shall not attempt, on the present occasion, to
deviate from the ordinary course. The main thing
I have to say is, that the present volume owes its
248112
VI PEEFACE.
existence solely to my own humour and taste. The
majority of the papers it contains have appeared in
various periodicals : they have all been the result
of hours of relaxation from graver and more severe
studies. I have been led to imagine that in a col-
lected form they may possibly afford some amuse-
ment and, on some points, even instruction to
the general reader; and if they can in any measure
effect either of these objects, I shall not think
my time has been altogether thrown away in their
editorship.
LONDON, 1859.
CONTENTS.
PEEFACE . . v
FlSHWIYES 1
AN AUTUMN DAT WITH SOME OF THE SCHOLASTIC DOCTOES
OF THE MIDDLE AGES 39
A FEW WOEDS ABOUT EELS 68
HEEMIT LITEEATUEE 83
NOTES OP AN ANTIQUARIAN ON THE SYMBOLICAL KEPEE-
SENTATION OF FlSH 113
JOHN PATEESON'S MAEE 119
THE " DANCES OF DEATH " 146
HISTOEICAL SKETCH OF BEITISH CAEICATUEB . . . 164
A FEW WOEDS ON PIKE 206
DB. PALEY'S "NATUEAL THEOLOGY" . . . . . 222
OYSTEES 237
ON THE G-ENEEALITIES OF LlTEEATUEE AND ART . . 266
DAYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO, FEOM THE NOTE-
BOOK OF AN OCTOGENAEIAN 282
LOBSTEES AND CBABS . , 360
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
FISHWIVES.
" La langue d'une poissarde Parisienne coupe au Tif comme un
glaive & d'eux trancliant." VADE.
" All mad to speak and none to hearken,
They set the very dogs a barking ;
"No chattering makes so loud a din
As fishwives o'er a cup of gin." SWIFT.
IT is both interesting and instructive to trace the pro-
fessional and moral lineaments on the great family of
mankind, and to see how habits, and modes of thinking
and acting, are transmitted from nation to nation, and
from generation to generation, without scarcely any dis-
crepancy or variation. The soldier, the sailor, the lawyer,
the merchant, the physician, the author, the comedian,
the poet, the critic, and the painter, have all some pecu-
liarities connected with their respective avocations, which
neither time nor place materially changes. We recognize
the same mental and social physiognomy in every age,
and under every clime. And the same thing may be
traced, though with somewhat less distinctness, in all the
professional walks of life, however humble or unobtrusive.
This moral fixity in manners is the basis of the laws
of our inward nature. It is the principle on which we
B
' ' pip, JeyUsEft fs NEW MASKS.
frame declarations, and rules, and judgments, and con-
clusions respecting human life and character. Were
there nothing indelibly imprinted on society, nothing
could "be useful or interesting respecting its past history.
All would be like the surface of the ocean, where every
movement is isolated and transitory, and nothing is left
as a permanent record of past agitation and change.
The fishwomen of all ages have faithfully preserved
their general habits, and phases of character. They
have been noted for their eloquent vulgarity, their sturdy
independence, their unscrupulous extortion, their super-
stitious feelings, and their clannish attachments. The
causes of these fixed features in their intellectual and
moral character are various, but may be chiefly referable
to the uncertainty connected with the supply of their
vendible commodities; the perishable nature of these
commodities ; the luxurious and dainty light in which
they are in several countries and seasons viewed as
articles of food ; and the risk and dangers to which a
fisherman's life is perpetually exposed. These, collec-
tively and individually, may be considered as the efficient,
if not the proximate, causes of that distinct unity of cha-
racter of this race of grondeuse from the earliest times
till the present hour, in every nation and clime.
The constant habit of intermarrying among each other,
so invariably adhered to in fishing communities, both
in this and other countries, has excited the attention of
some modern writers and philanthropists ; and they have
been led to suggest that, if this custom were broken in
upon, a more decided improvement and change would be
effected in the general deportment of fishwomen. They
FISHWIVES. 3
would be more refined, domesticated, cleanly, and polite
in their ordinary conversation and intercourse with the
world. This is not a new idea. More than three cen-
turies ago, if not further back than that, similar schemes
were suggested in Italy for the attainment of the same
ends. We have an Italian fable on the subject, pub-
lished at Venice, which gives us the pith of the matter
in few words, and shows us how the question did then
stand, and does now, in reference to this attempted im-
provement among a certain class of European society.
The fable runs thus :
" A man of fashion and distinction, in rambling one
day through a fishing village, accosted one of the fisher-
men with the remark, that he wondered greatly that men
of his line of life should chiefly confine themselves, in
their matrimonial connections, to women of their own
caste, and not take them from other classes of society,
where a greater security would be obtained for their
wives keeping a house properly, and rearing a family
more in accordance with the refinements and courtesies
of life. To this the fisherman replied, that to him, and
men of his laborious profession, such wives as they
usually took were as indispensable to their vocation as
their boats and nets. Their wives took their fish to mar-
ket, obtained bait for their lines, mended their nets, and
performed a thousand different and necessary things
which husbands could not do for themselves, and which
women taken from any other of the labouring classes of
society would be totally unable to do. ' The labour and
the drudgery of our wives,' continued he, ' is a necessary
part of our peculiar craft, and cannot by any means be
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
dispensed with, without entailing irreparable injury upon
our social interests.'
" MORAL. This is one among many instances, where
the solid and the useful must take precedence before the
showy and the elegant."*
From the earliest times of Grecian civilization, fish-
mongers, male and female, lived in perpetual warfare
with the whole community. They were noted in all
cities and districts for their insolence, dishonesty, vehe-
ment rhetoric, lying, and extortion. They were desig-
nated "monsters," "gorgons," "homicides," "wild
beasts ;" and in one Greek play, " The Rogue-Hater," it
is said they are worse than the usurers and quacks. Of
their insolence one complainant says : " Whenever a
citizen has occasion to address a great functionary of
state, he is sure to receive a courteous reply ; but, if he
should venture a word of expostulation to any of these
execrable fishwomen, he is instantly overpowered by a
volley of abuse." " I asked one of these women, the
other day," says another, " the price of a glaucus' head ;
but she looked gloatingly upon it, and deigned not a
word of reply. I put the question to a neighbour in the
market, who forthwith began to amuse herself by playing
with a polypus. A third to whom I spoke was worse
than either, for she at once flew into a passion, flared up,
choking, and swore at me in half-articulate oaths." The
constant practice of the fishmongering fraternity of
swearing that stale and stinking fish were as fresh as
possible, and only just taken out of the water, is often
mentioned and commented on by Greek writers.
* "Le Favole," p. 96. Venice, 1561.
FISHWIVES.
" The ingenious devices," says a Greek poet, " had
recourse to by our fishwomen, and fishfactors generally,
plainly show the superiority of the tribe to our own : we
can only twist the same idea a hundred ways ; but there
is no end to the inventiveness of these dealers. Look,
now, at their ingenuity. Being prohibited by law from
keeping fish fresh by means of the watering-pot, and
finding that customers, as the day advances, become more
and more shy, two salesmen agree together to get up a
mock fight. After squaring at one another for some time,
one, at a preconcerted signal, pretending to be hurt, falls
under the other's blows, and amongst his fish. An im-
mediate cry for water is raised; the mock bruiser be-
comes a mock penitent, and now stands over the body of
his vanquished friend, to rain restorative lymph upon
him, and by the time his clothes are completely satu-
rated, the prostrate man revives ; when it is found that
the fish also have revived by the same process, and
look almost as fresh and inviting as when first taken
out of the water." Another trick is mentioned by a
Greek historian. He says : " Having already purchased
my day's supply of fish, at an exorbitant price, to avoid
useless discussion, I put down a piece of money, and
asked for the difference. On receiving the change, I dis-
covered a deficiency. I pointed it out to the woman :
' See, my good lady, the change is short.' ' All the
world,' growled she, ' knows my practice is to sell by the
JEgean currency.' * Well, but even then the change is
short on your own showing.' ' Ah, sir, you are very dull,
I see. I sell by the mint of JSgina, but I pay in Athe-
nian pieces. Do you comprehend the matter now? " :
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
The law had often to step in between the sellers of
fish and the purchasers, to protect the public from out-
rageous frauds and impostors. "We are told that "no
legislator after Solon can be compared to Aristonicus,
who first made it imperative on the sellers of fish to
stand by the side of their balances ; not sitting at their
ease, contumaciously to cheat, as heretofore ; and it will
be a still further improvement, should our legislator
require them to treat with their customers suspended to
one of these uneasy machines by which the divinities
are wont to descend from Olympus to visit us. This
device would cut short much protracted haggling and
altercation." This lawgiver framed another enactment,
" which required that everything should be ticketed, and
sold at the registered price ; so that old men and women,
the ignorant and the young, might all come to market,
and purchase at a reasonable rate." The least infringe-
ment of this ordinance subjected the fishmonger to
confinement in chains, besides a heavy fine paid to the
state.
This order of things was encouraged by the extreme
fondness of the people of Greece for fish. Plato, in his
" Republic," says that the Homeric heroes never ate
fish. It is certain, however, that in later times fish
of every kind became the choice food in demand by
Grecian epicures. Athenseus abounds with abundance
of information on this point. He tells us that a rich
gourmand fish-eater looked sulkily in the morning, if the
wind were not fair, to bring the fishing-boats into the
Pirams. The strictest regulations were enforced to pre-
vent fishmongers from cheating their customers ; among
FISHWIVES.
which was one requiring them to stand (not sit) while
offering their commodities for sale (" a golden law," as
Alexis " Athen." vi. 8 calls it) ; and there was an-
other, forbidding them to ask two prices for their fish.
We are likewise informed that there was a " Guide to
the Eish-market," published by one Lynceus of Samos.
Fish, except of the very commonest kind, were gene-
rally very high priced ; for we learn that at Corinth, if a
man known to be honestly rich was seen too frequently
at the fish-market, he was placed under the eye of the
police, and punished, if he persevered in this assumed
extravagance.*
The Greek poet, Aristophanes, in his "Wasps," when
ridiculing the Athenians for listening to unfounded poli-
tical accusations, alludes to the fish-market as the locality
where all public rumours were rife :
" Be the fault great or small, this cuckoo-song
Of tyranny rings ever in our ears ;
These fifty years it slept ; but now the cry
Is handied even at Billingsgate, as stale
As mackerel in July. Suppose a turbot
Should suit your palate, straightway the spratseller,
Next stall, exclaims, ' Why, this is tyranny !
No tastes aristocratic in Athens.' "
Phoenias, in the Eresian, relates in his book, which is
entitled, " The Killing of Tyrants by way of Punish-
ment," that there was one " Philoxenus, who was called
the Solenist, became a tyrant from having been a dema-
gogue. In the beginning he got his living by being a
fisherman and a hunter after solens (a species of oyster) ;
*" Athen." vi. 12.
8 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
and so having made a little money, he advanced, and got
a good property." *
The fishwoinen of Home and other Italian cities bore
a great resemblance to those of ancient Athens. The
former were characterized by the same violence of
temper, coarseness of demeanour, and reckless extortion.
The Roman writers speak of fishmongers in general,
male and female, as being the very outcasts of society.
Juvenal lashes them with unsparing, but doubtless just,
severity, in the following lines; in which, though he
levels his shafts at a male fishmonger, we have no doubt
that his satire was equally applicable to the female
portion of the fraternity :
" In what security the villian lies !
In what warm tones suspicion he denies !
Sunbeams and thunderbolts boldly he cites,
And all the darts of Cirrha's lord invites;
The spear of Mars now resolutely dares j
By the new quiver of Diana swears ;
Pallas and all her terrors next he braves ;
And his whole trident moves the JEgean waves :
Whatever arms the arsenals of light
Prepare for punishment of impious wight,
Invokes them all ; and prays he may be fed
On the loved features of his infant's head,
Soused in Egyptian vinegar, if aught
Against his fishes' freshness can be brought."
Eor several centuries we lose sight of the fish-
mongering community. "We find in Italy, however,
scattered notices of them, commencing from the four-
teenth century down to the present hour. Some of the
* " Athen." Yol. i.
FISHWIVES. 9
early painters, especially of grotesques, and those who
took to sketching the every-day manners of the times,
occasionally wandered into the fish-markets, and here
and there depicted a character of note among the female
dealers. There is one caricature, executed in pen and
ink about 1416, now in the Royal Library at Paris,
wherein the Pope is likened to a fishwornan in a violent
passion an allusion, it has been conjectured, to a papal
bull suppressing some public amusements of the people
of Venice. It is incidentally mentioned, in some of the
early histories of this noted city, that its fishwomen
were always active in most of the civil broils for which
the place was so long noted in the middle ages. They
formed processions on great occasions, and were con-
sidered the most unruly in every social movement, and
the most difficult to satisfy by authoritative concessions.
They had a grand fete once a-year, about the season of
Lent, at which the female part of them were decked out
in the richest attire, covered with jewellery and costly
ornaments of every kind. The fete lasted three days.
On this occasion, the fishermen wore masks of the most
grotesque kind, which, however, had always something
emblematic of their peculiar calling. One historian
says : " These wild and reckless women are the greatest
pests in our city ; their tongues never cease, and their
voluble vituperation of the civil authorities, upon the
slightest pretext, has no bounds." *
When Leo X. ascended the papal chair in 1513, the
fishwomen of Rome formed an imposing deputation to
* " Servadio, Compendio Delia Storia d'ltalia. Borne, 1676."
Yol. iii.
10 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
congratulate him on the occasion. They waited upon
him in due form, and assured him of their staunch
loyalty. He returned for answer, " that he had always
felt an interest in their peculiar calling, which was
instrumental in procuring many of the necessaries and
luxuries of life ; and was associated in the minds of all
devout members of the church with so many sacred
emblems of the Christian faith." Many gems and
cameos were afterwards worn by the female dealers in
the fish-market of the city, in commemoration of this
event ; and some of these are still said to be in exist-
ence, and kept as heirlooms by the descendants of these
memorialists.*
The author of " Squittino della Liberta Yeneta "
wrote several libellous works against the government of
Venice, and some of the other Italian States. In one of
his satirical lampoons relative to the civil functionaries
of the Venetian Republic, he compares them to the fish-
women of their city, who, he said, were buffoons, liars,
extortioners, heretics, blasphemers, robbers, and persons
of the vilest habits and temper. The writer was cited
before the criminal tribunals, and sentenced to be burned
alive a sentence which was carried into eifect. It is
said that the fishwomen, so severely abused, were the
only body of traders in the city that sent a petition in
favour of the accused for a mitigation of his harsh
sentence. This, at least, was creditable to their good
sense and humanity.
In several of the Italian facetious and satirical
writers of the fifteenth century, we find allusions made
* "Vita di aioTanni de Medici. 1672."
FISHWIVES. 11
to the fishwomen of Koine, and other cities. Peter
Aretino, called the " Scourge of Princes'' a witty but
profligate character was lampooned in a comic poem,
and likened to a virago of the fish-market. The pro-
duction states that Peter had been partial to some of
the most notorious of these fishwomen, whose manners,
morals, and habits he had imitated throughout his whole
life, and on whose voluble and coarse slang he had
profitably trafficked for years. Peter rejoined, but made
no allusion to the fishwomen. We likewise find that, at
the period when the " Piscatory Dramas " were fashion-
able in Italy, the members of the Pesckeria, or fish-
market, occupied a more or less prominent position in
these effusions, chiefly to fill up the grotesque or droll
section of the play, and as a necessary and connecting
link to sustain the perfect unity of the performance, by
giving it a hold upon the feelings and sympathies of the
audience. In one of these ephemeral pieces, a fishwoman
makes her appearance on the stage, in her usual market
attire, and in irony says :
" I now appear
With all that virgin modesty which
Falls to woman's lot. I fear not slander :
You know my merits. My dulcet notes
Have wrung for long upon the public ear."
There is a pen-and-ink caricature of the Scholastic
Doctors, representing them in a public discussion in
the University of Pavia, wherein they are depicted in
the characters of fishwomen quarrelling. It is exceed-
ingly grotesque and amusing. The doctors are attired
partly in their academic and partly in the female fish-
12 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
market garb, and display all the violent gesticulations,
fierceness of countenance, and combative habits, which
are usually witnessed among the females of the profession.
In the arena of contention there are various articles
resembling fish-baskets or creels, such as fishmongers
use in carrying fish from the sea-shore to the markets ;
these are labelled with words expressive of some of the
well-known technical terms which were wont to grace
the logical disputes of the scholastics. It is either
Vives or Erasmus, if our memory be not at fault, who
says that the learned doctors " were like fishwives in
a battle ; they spat on and slapped each other's faces
in the height of their passion."
In many of the civil broils of the city of Florence,
the female members of the fish-market were always
conspicuous agitators. It was a common question to
ask, when political topics of more than common interest
agitated the public mind, " what will the fish-market
say ? " A writer of the " Chronicles of the City " tells
us that these fish-people all over the country were
exceedingly troublesome and mischievous, vulgar and
passionate, and gave the civil authorities in most towns
more trouble than any other class of the labouring
community. Their annual processions, in which they
displayed great finery in dress, and observed many
superstitious and pompous ceremonies, generally gave
rise to street fights and quarrels ere they terminated.*
In comparatively modern times, we have obtained
but few records of the civil history of Italian fisher-
people. Modern travellers, however, have now and then
* " Faletti, Cronaca di Florence," vol. i. p. 274.
FISHWIVES. 13
noticed them. A recent one, Dr. Badham, says : " It is
impossible to conceive anything like the din and discord
of an Italian or Sicilian fish-market, at the market hour.
None but itself can be its parallel ; and yet the whole is
effected by some score only of human tongues let loose
at will. Everybody there is, or seems to be, in a pas-
sion ; each striving to out-scream, out-roar, out-bellow,
and out-blaspheme his neighbour, till the combined up-
roar fills the whole area, and rises high above it. The
men are all Stentors, and the women perfect Moenads ;
the children a set of howling imps, which nothing short
of Thuggism could pacify. It is no unfrequent spec-
tacle in this frantic neighbourhood, to see some baby
clenching his tiny hands and boneless gums in concen-
trated passion, tearing at the rudiments of hair, and
screaming with all its puny strength ; or, in yet wilder
extravagance, its arms in the air, hurling defiance at its
own mother, who, standing at bay with the mien of a
Tisiphone, strives to drown her baby's voice in her own
frenzied treble, and looks as if she could drown him too,
for a very small consideration." Add to this the testi-
mony of a recent French traveller in Italy : " You can
form but a faint idea of the grotesque scenes which we
have witnessed in the Italian fish-markets. They are
exceedingly rich in low comic character. A brawl be-
tween two females is a rare treat. To hear the torrent
of personal abuse, uttered with voluble yet accurate
distinctness, appears quite marvellous ; and to see them
pulling each other's hair, or blackening each other's eyes
with their fists, is a sight which the memory long retains."*
* " Yoyages en Italic." Paris, 1851.
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
In the works of another witness we find severe
anathemas against the tricks of fishmongers. Fielding,
the author of "Tom Jones," inveighs bitterly against
the monopolizers of fish in reference to the poor, who, he
says, can eat sprats and herrings, but no other sort
of fish. He observes : " First, I humbly submit the
absolute necessity of immediately hanging all the fish-
mongers within the bills of mortality ; and, however it
might have been, some time ago, the opinion of mild
and temporizing men, that the evil complained of might
be removed by gentler methods, I suppose, at this day,
there are none who do not see the impossibility of using
such with effect."*
The history of the fishmongers of Paris stretches far
into antiquity. In 1711, upon some workmen digging
under the choir of the Church of Notre Dame, Paris, a
number of large stones were found, having various
inscriptions upon them. They were of a square form,
and sculptured on all the four sides. Among other
devices, there were two relative to fishers : one repre-
senting a woman carrying fish in a basket ; and the
other, a woman mending nets on the banks of a river
supposed to be the Seine. On the stone where these
designs were was found an inscription in Latin to
this purport : " Under Tiberius Caesar Augustus, the
Parisian fishmongers publicly erected this altar to
Jupiter Optimus Maximus." It may be remarked, that,
from documents of unquestionable authority, the com-
pany of fish-dealers of Paris, and the fishermen of the
Seine, existed as a corporate body as early, in Paris, as
* " Voyage to Lisbon," p. 202.
FISHWIVES. 15
the first century of the Christian era.* There was
likewise a very ancient custom, almost co-eval with the
first introduction of Christianity into France, among the
clergy of Notre Dame in this city, which was called the
" Rogations." It consisted in carrying in solemn pro-
cession a figure, half-fish and half-dragon, to a certain
spot on the Seine, and throwing fruits and cakes into its
capacious mouth. This figure was made of wicker-work,
and represented an inhabitant of the river that once
threatened destruction to the entire city, but was ulti-
mately vanquished by the fishwomen of Paris. This
procession lasted till the year 1730, after which the
chief of the procession contented himself with merely
pronouncing a benediction on the river.
The ordinary historical records of Paris fix a renewal
of the charter of fish-merchants in the twelfth century
to this city. They chiefly dealt in herrings caught on
the coast of Normandy ; some of which were used fresh,
and some salted. The trade became divided into two
branches : the women connected with the one were
called liarengeres; and the other, who dealt exclusively in
fresh fish of all kinds, were termed poissonnieres. There
were many civic regulations respecting these two classes
of fishwomen made in subsequent times. There was
often great enmity between them, and on one occasion
a public quarrel ensued, which ended in the loss of life.f
In France we have many more interesting notices of
its poissardes, or fishwomen. Historians attribute to St.
Louis three regulations relative to the sale of fish
* Gilbert " Historic de 1'Eglise de Notre Dame."
f " Chronicles of Paris."
16 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
brought to the markets of Paris. From these it appears
that it was requisite to purchase of the king the right of
selling fish, and that there were prud'hommes, or jures
des halles, who inspected the markets, and received the
fines incurred by the wholesale or retail dealers. The
prud'hommes were appointed by the king's cook. Those
who sold fish paid the duty of tonlieu halage, besides the
fees of the prud'hommes. The king's cook obliged the
pruffhommes, upon their appointment, to swear by the
saints that they would select such fish as the king, the
queen, and their children might want, and to fix the price
of it en conscience. This oath was likewise required of
all female dealers having an independent position in the
market.
In the early period of the French Monarchy, the
bishop and clergy of the diocese of Paris were in the
habit of appointing a day every year for blessing the
fishermen, the fishmongers, and the river Seine. This
was a sumptuous and gaudy display by all the members
of the fish-market, the boatmen on the river, as well as
by those fishermen and their wives and families who lived
at Havre, and other localities at the mouth of the Seine.
Part of the bishop's oration on the occasion is curious.
"We select the following sentences : " Oh, Almighty
God ! thou hast made the sea, the rivers, and the dry
land, and we live daily by thy bounty and goodness,
through their instrumentality. We implore thee to give
thy best blessing to this hallowed stream ; to increase
the number of its watery inhabitants ; and to preserve,
guide, and protect from all danger those who devote their
labours to obtain them for the necessary food and purifi-
riSHWIYES. 17
cation of our animal bodies. The inhabitants of the
.deep have been, from the earliest times, the especial
objects of thy wondrous power and providential care* By
them thou hast done many great and signal miracles and
wonders ; and as thou hast appointed them, in the
scheme of creation, to be the instruments of subduing
the carnal and sinful propensities of the human body,
and hast made them, in thy Church, the sacred emblems
of purity and holiness, vouchsafe unto us the object of
our prayers, that they may be increased and sanctified
to all our temporal and spiritual wants. We likewise
implore thy special protection to all thy servants, male
and female, who are selected by thy special providence to
deal in our city in all the commodities of our seas and
rivers. May they be just in their dealings, circumspect
in their deportment, cultivating a meek and quiet spirit,
always having thy fear continually before their eyes."*
"We may infer, from a remark made in " The Pleasant
Historic of Thomas of Reading," that three centuries
ago the oyster-sellers of London dressed very gay. " I
will affirme it, that the London oyster-wives do exceed us
in their Sundaie's attire."f
The number of fish-dealers in Paris in 1700, more
than one hundred and fifty years ago, was very great,
considering the then population of the city. There were
4,000 oyster-women alone, many of whom sold other
kinds of fish. We are told by a writer of the times,
that these Parisian oyster-wenches were each furnished
with a short knife; and such was the celerity and
* " Histoire de Paris."
f " Early English Romances," London, 1858.
C
18 OLD FACES IS NEW MASKS.
adroitness of their wrists, that a spectator was led to
suppose the shells to have been only slightly glued toge-
ther, so instantaneously were they separated. These
women, he goes on to state, were almost sure to practise
some deception ; sometimes bringing a number of fresh
and empty shells in their aprons, and counting them
out to the customer, to persuade him he had swallowed
the contents ; and at other times eating the finest and
most relishing before your face, under the pretext of
swallowing the suspected ones. "With the shells they
form such enormous heaps, that an author has observed,
" When Paris, in the succession of ages, shall be razed
and utterly destroyed, future naturalists, discovering on
a little narrow point of land an immense quantity of
oyster-shells, will maintain that the sea had once covered
the spot. The same writer remarks, that "it is dan-
gerous to eat oysters at Paris before the frost ; but the
taste of amateurs is extorted, and the desire of fore-
stalling enhances the value of every article."*
Once when Louis XV. was very ill, and was obliged,
before he could receive the last rites of the church, to
discard his two mistresses, Madame de Chateauroux and
her sister, who had accompanied him with the French
army to Metz, the fishwomen of Paris were moved with
a virtuous indignation against him. They were appre-
hensive lest, as he recovered from his sickness, he should
again take these ladies under his royal protection. The
* "The consumption of fish in the city of Paris in 1845
amounted to the value of 2,825,567 francs' worth of sea-fish ;
673,926 of oysters ; and 456,578 of river-fish." GaUgnanfs "Hist,
of Part's."
FISHWIVES. 19
poissardes of the Paris Halle came to a unanimous reso-
lution, in their own significant and impressive language,
that, if the king again took these ladies back to his court,
he might die without getting so much as a single pater
or an ave from them. This resolve was faithfully adhered
to when the monarch died in 1774.
One of the Parisian fishwomen, named Picard, who
lived about the middle of the last century, became
somewhat famous for her wit and poetical talents. She
was personally known to Voltaire, Diderot, D'Alembert,
and many other literary men of her day. She is stated
to have been a little above the common stature of
Frenchwomen, with a somewhat plain set of features,
which were set off, however, with a most fascinating
expression. When roused, she was one of the most
violent and vulgar members of the Halle ; but she had
such a command over her temper and demeanour, that,
when these fits of passion subsided, she was decidedly
polished, affable, and circumspect in her conversation.
She wrote verses, chiefly of a sentimental and amatory
strain, which the critics of the day pronounced as mani-
festing no small degree of genius, although the versifica-
tion was defective. When about forty she left the fish-
market, became the wife of a silk-merchant, and spent
the remainder of her life amongst the highest class of the
bourgeoisie of Paris, sustaining an honourable degree of
credit for decorum and propriety of behaviour. Her
poetical pieces were published in one small volume in
1768.
When the first revolution broke out in 1789, the
Parisian poissardes took an active part in the turmoil,
20 OLD TA.CES IN NEW MASKS.
and displayed a mixture of savage cruelty and heroic
deeds of humanity and kindness, that has rendered them
notorious among the lower classes of the metropolis.
The first great demonstration they made was when the
mob attacked Louis XVI. and the Queen at the Palace
of Versailles, on the 15th of October. The fishwives
were among the boldest and rudest of the enraged people.
Two of the guards were murdered, and their heads were
carried in triumph by two of these women throughout
all the principal streets of Paris. It is a well-known
fact that the poissardes were in the constant habit of
maltreating every woman they met, if she did not wear
the tricolour cockade. It was the general custom, of the
fishwomen to select from their body the most comely
persons, who were richly decorated with lace, diamonds,
and other costly ornaments, to attend as deputies on all
great public occasions.
Mirabeau was an especial favourite with the pois-
sardes ; they perfectly worshipped him. They once sent
one of their gayest deputations to him, consisting of all
the young beauties which the fish-market could muster,
begging him to continue his patriotic course, and give
them a free government and cheap bread. To this the
orator delivered a flattering and assuring reply. M. Du-
mont tells us that in the gallery of the Palace of Ver-
sailles, a crowd of fishwomen were assembled, under the
guidance of one virago with stentorian lungs, who called
to the deputies familiarly by name, and insisted that
their favourite Mirabeau should speak. When the news
of his premature death reached the ears of the poissardes,
there was one universal howling and lamentation amongst
FISIIWIYES. 21
them. Every eye was suffused with tears; many ran
about frantic, and tore their hair in paroxysms of grief.
On the day of his funeral, many followed him to the
tomb, and put on mourning for months afterwards.
When Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette were led to
the place of execution, though at different periods, these
Parisian women observed no bounds to their exultation at
their unhappy fate. In their savage joy, they danced
before the cart which led the royal captives along the
street, made mockery of their sufferings, and some held
up their clenched fists, exclaiming, that if there were
another world, they would hunt them out even there,
and be revenged upon them.
When old General Custine appeared before the revo-
lutionary tribunal, he was accompanied by his daughter-
in-law, Madame de Custine. She was descending alone
the steps of the notable ^prison of La Force, when a
silent crowd, with the most infuriated gestures, gradually
closed around her. An exclamation, or the slightest
token of fear, would have been instantly fatal to her. She
is said to have bitten her lips until the blood came, in
'Order to prevent herself from becoming pale. On her
path was a hideous-looking Parisian fishwoman, with
an infant in her arms. Madame De Custine paused for
a few seconds, and expressed her admiration of it. This
touched her heart ; she seemed to understand perfectly
the critical position of madame. " Take it," said the
fishwoman, presenting the child ; "you will give it back
to me below." Madame De Custine obeyed ; and, pro-
tected by that shield, she descended the steps in perfect
.safety. "WTien she had reached the street she returned
22 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
the child to its mother, without daring to murmur
thanks, which would certainly have proved dangerous to
both.
During the Keign of Terror, the fishwomen were very
violent and bloodthirsty. They eagerly joined in the
general proscription of the Girondists, though many of
this party had previously been objects of their veneration
and idolatry. There are instances, however, on record,
which showed some remains of good feeling and humanity
towards this greatly injured class of politicians. Two of
its members were taken out of prison under a disguise,
the night before they were ordered for execution, by
four fishwomen, who managed their arduous and perilous
undertaking with so much courage and skill, that the
deputies finally escaped out of the kingdom, but returned
to it afterwards under the reign of Napoleon. This was
a noble deed, and a fair set-off against many of the
darker shades which hung about these female characters,
during this season of extraordinary excitement and
change. As the revolutionary frenzy abated, we find the
rhetoricians of the fish-market gradually falling in with
the new order of things. "When Bonaparte gained the
ascendancy over the people, the Parisian poissardes
presented themselves in a body, and tendered their poli-
tical services and influence, which the great man rejected
with scorn. This discouraged them so much, that they
retired from the audience with great confusion, and
never again meddled with political matters during the
Napoleonistic dynasty. It has often been made the
topic of casual remark by French historians of the revo-
lution, that, though these women figured in all the tur-
FISHWIVES. 23
moils and dangers of the times always the first in deeds
of violence and strife not one of them was known to
have perished from an unnatural death.
At the date of the first French Eevolution of '89,
there were twenty-six religious houses of refuge in the
town of St. Omer. Most of these were destroyed within
a couple of years after. One of these establishments
was founded about a century before by a Madame Piron,
who had been many years known as one of the poissardes
of the place, but who had left that employment, on
having unexpectedly become heiress to a considerable
fortune left her by a country gentleman in the neigh-
bourhood. Madame was considered an amiable woman,
notwithstanding the humble occupation she followed
previous to becoming the recipient of such a fortunate
windfall. During the revolutionary frenzy there were
dreadful massacres in St. Omer; chiefly on account of
its being one of the strongholds of the aristocratic and
monarchical refugees. In these cruelties the fishwomen
of the town were often known to take an active share.
One of them paraded the head of an old count upon a
pole, in 1792, throughout the principal streets of the
city. About the same date, the piscatory viragos of the
town joined those of their craft in Calais, Dunkirk, and
G-ravelines, in a memorial to the government at Paris,
thanking the members of it for their patriotism, and
their sedulous attentions to the true interests of the
nation.
When Napoleon Bonaparte was reviewing the grande
afmee encamped at Boulogne in 1807, for the invasion of
England, the fishwomen of Portel, a neighbouring village,
OLD FACES IT* NEW MASKS.
formed a deputation to the Emperor, and presented him
with two hundred gold eagles to enable him to carry
out his purpose. He gave them a nattering answer in
return.
The peculiar language and eloquence of the fish-
market in France suggested a series of lyrical compo-
sitions, which have stood high in critical estimation.
Those we have perused are written by Vade and De
FEcluse, and were published in Paris, with copperplate
illustrations, in one volume in 1796. Those of Vade
consist of "La Pipe Cassee: un poeme, epi-traji-Pois-
sardi-heroi-comique, en quatre chants," and" Les Bou-
quets Poissardes," in four parts. These are exceedingly
humorous, and are written in the style and slang of the
dealers in fish. The same author wrote several other
poetical pieces, of a witty and satirical cast, upon the
same subjects, The following lines are taken from Vade's
" Cantique de Saint Hubert :"
" A la place Maubert,
Un jour nun harenge're
De Monsieur de Saint Hubert
Insultit la bagniere ;
Pour punir cette infame
L'on vit soudainement
Son chaudron plein de flame
Giller tout son devant.'
In " Le Dejeune de la Eapee " of De 1'Ecluse, we
have a very witty and amusing dialogue between a Pari-
sian nobleman and a poissarde, about the buying of a
parcel of fish. It is impossible to translate the piece,
both from the number of slang phrases and idioms that
FISHWIVES. 25
are in it, and the loose tone in which the whole is couched.
Both Vade and De 1'Ecluse spent a great portion of their
time in the company of the Parisian poissardes, at the mar-
ket, as well as at their private dwellings. It was mainly
from this long and continued intercourse that these
writers gained such an accurate knowledge of the quaint
and coarse phraseology which appertains to this singular
race of beings.
The fishwomen of Prance, like those of most other
countries, are exceedingly prone to superstitious prac-
tices and omens. Dreams have a powerful influence over
them. We once remember of paying a visit to that
curious fishing village called Portel, about three miles
south of Boulogne, when we observed several of the
fishwomen in a state of great excitement. On inquiring
the cause, we found that one of them had had a dream
of a particularly ominous character that of fancying
herself sailing on a smooth and placid lake ; and on her
telling it to her neighbours, the whole female community
took alarm for the fate of the boats that had sailed early
in the morning from the bay. The weather, however,
proved propitious, and nothing disastrous happened.
The first objects which these women meet in the morn-
ing, when carrying their loads of fish to Boulogne market,
are considered more or less indicative of good or bad
luck in disposing of their commodities for the day. The
church of Rome is sufficiently adroit in turning these
and all similar superstitious notions to its own purposes.
In various districts along the coast of Prance, there are
churches more or less especially set aside for fishermen
and their wives and families, in which they may oifer
26 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
up those votive gifts which are thought effective for
gaining the countenance and protection of Heaven in aid
of their special calling in life. Pilgrimages of one hun-
dred miles in extent are not unfrequently taken by those
poor people, to visit some favourite locality, that their
hopes and expectations may be more certainly realized.
A recent French author, M. Jupille, an advocate for
vegetarianism, says, " Go into the public markets ; listen
to the fisherwomen. How violent, how scurrilous, how
abusive they are! JSTow listen to the sellers of vege-
tables ; not half so bad, sir ; and why ? Because the flesh
even of fish corrupts, degrades, and vulgarizes both mind
and body."
The fishwomen of Spain and Portugal have long been
known as highly grotesque characters, and famous for
their eloquent vulgarity, extortion, and insolence. Seve-
ral of the old Castilian romances take notice of them ;
and books of a humorous kind have frequently drawn
upon the fish-market dames for comic materials to meet
the popular taste. Time has effected but little change
upon them. Modern travellers have described them as
real oddities in their way. During the French occupa-
tion of Spain under Napoleon, these women displayed a
marked hostility and ill feeling towards his army ; and
on one occasion a public example was considered requi-
site, and two female fish-dealers of the Madrid market
were shot, as instigators of sedition. A volume of comic
poems was published at Barcelona in 1809, in which
there are some satirical songs about the fishwomen of
Lisbon.
In Holland and Belgium, the female sellers of fish
FISHWIVES. 27
have from time immemorial held a conspicuous position,
for the singularity of their costume, habits, and indepen-
dence of spirit. In the annals of many of the towns of
the Low Countries, during the middle ages, when they
were strongholds of commercial activity and freedom, the
fish-dealers were an influential community, jealous to a
fault of the national honour, and always the first to raise
their voice in the civic contentions and broils of the
times. When the popular feelings of the people of
Ghent set in so furiously against James Artevelde, the
rich brewer of that city, on account of his favouring a
national alliance with England, the fishwomen of the
town headed the public commotion, and made themselves
cruelly active in the murder of this unfortunate victim to
public frenzy in 1345. Thirty years afterwards, these
women took as active a lead in raising Artevelde's son,
Philip, to the rank of a popular leader of the people.
Fishwomen, even in our own time, still aim at attracting
public attention. As a proof of this we have the follow-
ing statement from the newspapers of the day (1858) :
" The Grand Duchess Catherine of Eussia, and her
Consort Duke George of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, arrived
from Genoa at Nice, on the 17th. On entering the port,
a salute of artillery welcomed the Grand Duchess, who,
on landing, was received by the principal authorities in
full uniform. Later in the day a deputation from the
fish-market presented the Grand Duchess with a bouquet.
A Nice correspondent observes, 'This mania of fish-
women to force themselves on the attention of reigning
sovereigns, or their connections, is spreading over all
Europe, and may be considered as another triumph of
28 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
French fashions. ]N^ext to constitutions and a free press,
this interested politeness of the fish-market must, I
should fancy, represent one of the greatest trials to
which modern rulers are subjected. The bouquet in
question was of the size of a cart wheel, and, being com-
posed of circles of flowers of different colours, had the
appearance of an archery butt.' "
In modern times, the Dutch and Flemish fishwives
have attracted considerable attention both from artists
and authors. When the painters of the Low Countries
took to representing objects of humble and common life,
these women were a never-failing resource for designs of
all kinds both comic and sentimental. Many admirable
works of art are connected with them ; and many a
painter owes his fame to their grotesque manners and
homely character. Even in our own day we know that
Eowlandson, and other English caricaturists, spent days
together in sketching the peculiarities of these females
in the fish-markets of Amsterdam, E/otterdam, and other
cities and towns in Holland and Belgium.
Turning our attention now from the continent to the
British Isles, we find the same leading characteristics
found there attached to the fishwomen of our own land.
Traders in fish in England lay claim to some antiquity.
The Fishmongers' Company obtained their first charter
by letters patent in July, 1367. It was given by Edward
I., and is in the French language. The preamble to this
charter is curious ; inasmuch as it hints pretty openly
that the dealers in fish were a rather slippery kind of
people to trade with . ' 'Edward, by the grace, etc. "Whereas
it has been shown to us that all sorts of people come to
FISHWIVES. 29
buy with the mystery of fishmongers, are often imposed
on, using the fairs of the kingdom where fish are to
be sold, engrossing often the greater part of the fish,
and enhancing the price thereof: and whereas, from
ancient times, whereof memory runs not, it was a custom
that no fish should be sold in the city of London except
by fishmongers, in Bridge Street, Old Fish Street, and
the Stocks, because greater plenty might be found in the
said places, to the end a better marketing might be
there ; and because from fish being sold in every part
of the city, men could see 110 quantity in any place
certain, and our buyers and the buyers of other lords,
and of the commons, are obstructed of their pur-
chases," etc.
The present Fishmongers' Company in London was
originally composed of two companies : the " Stock
Fishmongers" and the "Salt Fishmongers." The two
were united in 1536. The City "Assize of a Fisher"
limits the profits of a London fishmonger to a penny in
the shilling. No fish-seller was allowed to water fish
twice, or to sell what was bad, under a heavy fine in both
cases. It is claimed, as a great honour attached to this
trading company, that from the year 1339 to 1716
twenty-one members of the Fishmongers' Company had
filled the office of Lord Mayor of London.
The fishwives of London have attracted more or less
public attention for some centuries past. Little, how-
ever, of what has been said or written about them has
been preserved. In the days of Henry VIII., we find a
doggerel verse descriptive of their character not by any
means flattering :
30 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
" In London we finde strange women dwelle,
Who blaspheme and scolde their fissche to selle ;
Who lye like Satane with Stentore's roar,
Denye what they had swoare before."
Lydgate, a benedictine monk, who lived in the early
part of the fifteenth century, notices the fishwives of his
time. There are sketches of them taken about this
period in many pictorial cabinets, from which we can
obtain a pretty good idea of their general appearance and
costume, as they figured in the streets of the metropolis
four centuries ago.
At the commencement of the seventeenth century,
we have several collections of the " Cries of London," in
which the fishwives constitute a prominent figure. The
freshness of fish, in those days of slow transit, was an
essential matter to purchasers as well as sellers, and
always formed the burden of these cries. "Buy my
fresh mackerel ! " " Plaice, fresh plaice ! " " Buy my
dish of fresh eels!" resounded through the streets in
all directions ; and many fine sprightly damsels at
this time devoted themselves to this mode of life,
and became notabilities in their respective neighbour-
hoods of traffic. In modern London all this has now
disappeared.
It was about this period, and a little prior to it, that
some of our English wits began to pay attention to the
characters of the fish-market. Etherege, "Wycherley,
Vanburgh, Farquhar, Congreve, and others, are said to
have scribbled something about this rather singular
female order of citizens. A song called the " Lobster "
is said to be from the pen of Congreve :
FISHWIVES. 31
<' As frisky Sue Wellfleet was set at her stall,
Surrounded with fish, and the devil, and all,
A monsieur by chance in the int'rim came by,
At her fish and herself both he casts a sheep's eye.
" He stopp'd at her stall. c Ha, ma sweet pretty dear !
Vat shall I give you for dat little fish here ? '
* That lobster ?' cried Susan ; 'I'll be at a word
For less than a shilling I can't it afford."
' ' ' Un shilling, ma dear, parbleu, and vor vat ?
For one half de monie I'd buy better dan dat ;
Aha ! parbleu, begar it does stink a !
Pray smell it yourself, mattam, vat do you tink a ? '
" Says she, 'You're a lying French impudent dog!
One-half your poor country would leap at such prog.'
With arms set akimbo, up to him she goes,
And bob went the lobster plump 'gainst his nose."
Gray, Arbuthnot, and Swift used to make fun of the
fishwives, and enjoyed their slang and conversation. Gray
wrote several pieces about them. His lines " To a
Young Lady with some Lampreys " are well known ; we
cannot transcribe them. He is said to have written the
song, very popular during the last century, called
" Melton Oysters." It arose from the following incident:
A very pretty girl, a native of Gloucester, came to
London, and entered into the fish trade. She was ex-
ceedingly handsome, sprightly, and intelligent. In cry-
ing her oysters around one of the then fashionable
localities of the city, she attracted the attention of a
nobleman, a good deal older than herself, who ultimately
married her. The circumstance gave rise to' considerable
32 OLD FACES IX NEW MASKS.
gossip at the time among the London citizens. The
song followed, as a matter of course :
" There was a clever, likely lass,
Just come to town from G-lo'ster,
And she did get her livelihood
By crying Melton oysters.
" She bore her basket on her head
In the genteelest posture j
And ev'ry day and ev'ry night
She cried her Melton oysters.
" It happened on a certain day,
As going through the cloisters,
She met a lord, so fine and gay,
Would buy her Melton oysters.
" He said, * Young damsel, go with me,
Indeed, I'm no impostor.'
But she kept bawling in his ears,
' Come, buy my Melton oysters !'
" At length resolved with him to go.
Whatever it might cost her,
And be no more obliged to cry,
' Come, buy my Melton oysters !'
" And now she is a lady gay,
For Billingsgate has lost her ;
She goes to masquerade and play,
No more cries Melton oysters."
In the last century, when the mania prevailed in
England about the herring fishery, and about the urgent
necessity that we, as a nation, should take this lucrative
branch of trade from the Dutch, there were numerous
songs published, which have more or less allusion to
female fish-dealers. A theatrical piece was got up on
FISHWIVES. 33
the occasion, which was very popular in some districts of
the metropolis. The two chief characters in the piece
were a fisherman and his wife. When he is about to
leave her for the fishery, she sings a song :
" How dearly I love you, bear -witness, my heart !
I wish you success, but 'tis death thus to part ;
With your fish'ry and herrings, you've kept a strange fuss,
But tell me, John, how many smacks make a buss ?"
John answers his Peggy thus :
" Why taunt thus, dear Peg, when you know all the day
On your delicate lips I with transports could stray ?
What number of smacks make a luss, you inquire !
There ! three ! a round hundred ! I am now all on fire !"
In several caricatures which the excess of public zeal
gave birth to on this herring question, we find the
females of Billingsgate grotesquely handled. There is
one large plate in which a regular pitched battle is
depicted between a female of the metropolitan market
and a Dutch fishwoman. They are executed in a truly
comic style full of humour and life. There are numerous
appropriate motto s embellishing the two contending
parties.
Captain Henry Templer, an intimate friend of David
Grarrick, had a great penchant for listening to the elo-
quence of the ladies of Billingsgate market. He was in
the habit of storing his memory with as many of their
singular words and phrases as it could contain. These
he used to rehearse to Captain Grose, the author of the
Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue," who en-
joyed the recitations with a keen relish. Templer often
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
threw into the dialogues of Billingsgate rich pieces of
humour, which rendered his exhibitions of fish-market
eloquence exceedingly comical and entertaining. Grose
himself was so fond of these gossippings, that for several
years he frequented a coffee-house, near the Monument,
where there were a number of kindred spirits ; and the
standard topics of fun and jollity were recitative ex-
travaganzas on the slang of Billingsgate. Grose tells
us, in a letter to a gentleman in Aberdeenshire, that on
two occasions he was successful in inducing G-arrick to
accompany himself and Templer to the market. The
great tragedian was both delighted and astonished at the
rhetorical exhibitions which were got up ; and told Grose
that " nothing on or off the stage could possibly match
such a display of natural passion and sentiment." Grose
is said to be the author of the song, " Betty of Billings-
gate."
Tradition about the purlieus of Old Pish Street says,
that John Wesley was several times known to have paid
professional visits to the females of the fish-market.
What were his impressions of their mode of preaching
we are not told. It is a well-known fact that the late
eccentric Rowland Hill often visited the locality ; and on
one occasion related an amusing anecdote about fish-
women to his audience in Surrey Chapel. Dr. Badham
informs us, " that the late celebrated Irish Demosthenes
(as Frenchmen delight to call Daniel O'Connell) consi-
dered it quite a feather in his cap, that he once beat an
Irish ichthyologist of the feminine gender at her own
.weapons, effectually silencing his opponent by bringing
unexpected charges against her reputation of an extraor-
FISHWIVES. 35
dinary character, filched out of Euclid and the elements
of trigonometry."
Besides the fishwomen of the English metropolis,
there are large communities of the class in various
sections around the coast, who possess no less distinctive
and well-marked characters, and whose habits and man-
ners have attracted more or less of public attention.
"We have in the north the Newhaven and Fisherrow
women, a very singular race of mortals. A notice of
these we find in the "Mercurius Caledonius," as far
back as 1661, on the occasion of the public rejoicing for
the Restoration. According to the programme of the
ofncial regulations for the processions on 'the event at
Edinburgh, it is ordered that on the ,12th of June " six-
teen fishwives are to trot from Musselburgh to Cannon
Cross (Edinburgh), for twelve pair of lambs' harrigals."*
The general habits of the fisher-people in this part of
Scotland are in all their leading features much about
the same as in days of yore. A little improvement and
alteration is observable; but nothing indicative of a
rapid social progress. The same picturesque but cum-
brous dress ; the most grotesque and uncouth gait ; the
same general ignorance ; the same superstitious notions
and observances ; the same system of extortion ; the same
want of cleanliness, which have characterized them from
time immemorial, flourish in all their pristine rankness
at the present hour. As this portion of the fishing
population has been fully and minutely described by
Sir Walter Scott in his "Antiquary," and by other
writers, we shall not enlarge on the subject, but step
* Lungs and livers.
36 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
on to the coast of Fife, and cast a glance at the singular
fishing community which occupy the village of Buchan.
These people are commonly regarded as descendants
from a colony of Flemings, and are supposed to have
migrated from the Low Countries during the troubles
of that kingdom, while under the tyranny of Spain.
Whether this origin be the true one we cannot deter-
mine. It was satirized in a very curious production,
levelled against the people of this village upwards of
seventy years ago. It is entitled, "The Anciente and
New History of Buch-Haven, in Pifeshire ; wherein is
contained the antiquities of their old dress ; the Buckey
boat, with a flag of a green tree, with their dancing
Willie and his trusty rapper; their Burges ticket,
with a plan of their new college, with the noted say-
ings and exploits of wise Willie in the brae, and
Witty Eppie in the ale-house, and single-tailed Nancy.
By Merry Andrew at Tam-Tallan, 1782." The burden
of this rare broadside was to ridicule all their manners
and customs, and superstitious notions. The " History "
tells us that the fishers of Buch-Haven sprung from a set
of sea-robbers, who first took shelter near Berwick-upon-
Tweed; their burgess tickets formed a part of their
"perfect truths," and were dated "the two-and-thirtieth
day of the month of Julius Ca3sar." Their coat-of-arms
was two hands gripping each other over a skate's
rumple ; their oath of fealty was, " I wish the de'il may
take me, an I binna an honest man to you, and ye binna
de like to me." Wise Willie was raised every morning,
who had the faculty of knowing the weather by the art
of the wind. All these ancient people were said to have
FISHWIVES. 37
been called " Thomsons," and it was thought degrading
for any of the young fisher lads to marry a farmer's
daughter. " Witty Eppie, the ale-wife, wad a' sworn, be
go laddie, I wad rather see my boat and my three sons
dadet age iV iss, or she saw ony ane o' them
married on a ^-a-byre's daughter; a whin useless
tappies, 'at can do naething but rive at a tow rock, and
cut corn ; they can neither bait a hook nor rade a line,
houke sandles, nor gather perriwinkles." Eppie's house
is called the "College," a place set apart for all the
gossip and law of the village, and where the kirk-session
sat in judgment in the case of " Eolicouching Jenny and
Lang Sandy Thomson ; we ken his nose, for Sandy had a
great muckle red nose like a lobster's tae, bowed at the
pint like a hawk's neb. Upon the Hood a day, four
young bucky lasses went away early in the morning,
with their creels full of fish. About a mile frae the toon
they saw coming down a brae like a man riding on a*
beast, when they came near. Tardy Tibb : ' E'it's a man
riding on a big mankin.' Tibb flang her creel and fish
away, the other three ran the other way, and got clear ;
they said it was a horned de'il." This pamphlet can
never now be mentioned to the Buchan fishwives without
their bile rising to a boiling pitch. The word " college "
is sufficient to excite their wrath.
As we have already hinted, fisher-people in all
-countries are extremely prone to the superstitious and
marvellous ; and this predisposition is more striking
among the women than the men. A good deal of this
feeling may readily be expected from a fisherman's pro-
fession, which is always uncertain, and at times accom-
38 OLD FACES Itf NEW MASKS.
panied with great danger. In storms at sea, human
efforts produce but dubious results ; and little real pro-
tection can be sought for from the rage of the elements.
Tinder these circumstances man feels his weakness, and
that there is a Power greatly stronger than himself
some agency wielded and directed against him whose
behests the winds and waves unerringly obey.
The natural result of this is, that the fisherman is
a close observer of omens, and a firm believer in visions
and wraiths. He spiritualizes everything he sees. Ply-
ing his precarious profession at all times of the night,
amid the scenes of former disasters uninformed and.
credulous, and with the recollection of the dead vividly
impressed on his memory he is placed exactly in those
circumstances in which most may be made of those
rarer phenomena of sky and sea, which, seen through
the medium of his superstitious emotions, occupy a
picturesque place in the chronicles of his race. The ignis
fatuus of some landlocked bay, the shooting meteor, the
spectral-looking mist-wreath, the awakened seal, the
sudden plunge of the porpoise, the wailing scream of the
various kinds of water-fowl, are all full of meaning to his
lively imagination, and are constantly associated in his
mind with certain events which may hourly befall him.
Often the superstitious notions of the fisherman assume
a strongly-marked mythological form. He addresses
himself to the blind powers of nature, as if they were
imbued with instinct and life, and possessed a governing
will. He [prays to the wind in his own language ; he
whistles to invoke the breeze when his sails slacken ; and
likewise tries to soothe the boisterous surges, by using a
low moaning chant.
SCHOLASTIC DOCTOES OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 39
AN AUTUMN DAY WITH SOME OF THE SCHO-
LASTIC DOCTOES OF THE MIDDLE AGES.
AN autumn day, representative of nature, both sunny
and vital, seems out of character with the literary men
of the dark ages. We naturally and insensibly associate
the gloomy and dismal with everything appertaining
to them. There is neither light nor warmth in such a
region. We conceive nature never to have smiled during
their long reign. We cannot fancy how there was sum-
mer and winter, seed-time and harvest; how flowers
grew and trees blossomed; how joy and festivity ever
resounded in the dwellings of men ; or how the orb of
day ever gained a mastery over the dense mass of vapours
which had hid his bright face from gladdening a
lovely universe. One continued night reigned over the
then civilized world. The mind of man was dwarfed into
a knotty and crabbed production. It never soared into
the ethereal, the grand, the imaginative, or the lovely.
Tear after year, and century after century, found it
clothed in some poverty-stricken dress, performing its
daily monotonous duties of juggling with words, and of
denning what could never be denned. The scholastics
were all head but no heart. The deep sympathies of
human nature were dried up in them. If ever felt, it
40 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
was only by stealth. The learned dignitaries neither
laughed nor sang; neither married nor were given in
marriage, though they bore but little resemblance to the
angels in heaven. We never see anything but the naked
and blanched bones of dialectics ; never get beyond the
sounds of snarling discussions and verbal logomachies,
Such are the leading conceptions which ninety -nine
out of every hundred of the reading and thinking part of
the community entertain of middle-age lore, and middle-
age writers. The general current and spirit of history
has indelibly stamped this on the modern intellect.
Hence it is that these learned doctors have been a stand-
ing jest for the lively and humorous spirits of modern
times. To extract anything light and amusing anything
to while away a dull hour, or relieve the tension of an
overstrained brain, from E-osellinus, Gilbert de Poree, or
Thomas Aquinas, were to attempt to draw blood from a
whinstone. Like all general conclusions, however, this
has its exceptions. The long disputes of the middle ages
had their uses in the mental economy of our race. Men
of genius were struck out by the collision of the conflict ;
great ideas were developed and distinguished ; thought
was refined and subtilized ; and the doctrinal parts of all
branches of knowledge for they all have their doctrines
were more and more accurately denned and mapped
out. Leibnitz was the first of modern philosophers to
maintain that hidden treasures would be found amidst
the voluminous speculations of the scholastic thinkers ;
and the attempts which of late years have been made in
several countries of Europe, particularly in France, to
make excursions into the neglected regions of learning,
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 41
have thrown a light on the subject, both novel and pleas-
ing. We find many of the erudite doctors men of shrewd
intellect on matters of every-day observation. They
occasionally took rambles into the light and by-paths of
literature, and composed small tracts on questions of
ordinary life, with considerable discrimination, critical
taste, and piquancy.
With these sentiments and opinions we have ap-
proached these venerable doctors of the schools this
glorious autumn day. The sun comes, but the wind
comes like cool wine, and when contrasted with the
hundred folios, which chance, in our present location, has
laid at our feet, the self-imposed task may seem one
rather of sheer punishment than pleasure. But not so
to our taste. This is not time thrown away, nor labour
uselessly undertaken. We opine, perhaps, that our resi-
dence among the mountains has something to do with
our tastes at this juncture. We love the refreshing
breeze which rushes through their defiles. It strengthens
our nerves for action, and makes contemplation doubly
grateful and enticing. Nature is never sad. She has a
joyousness of spirit that knows no limits. In all her
phases she speaks to the heart and affections, and im-
parts to them the most exquisite pleasure. We fancy,
therefore, our present labour is, in some degree, in unison
with her suggestions. The heathy moors, the solitary
wastes, the barren and frowning mountains, those dells
and caves seldom frequented by the foot of man, light up
a certain kind of enthusiasm in the soul, not unlike or
uncongenial to the huge and comparatively arid ranges
of scholastic erudition. We instinctively seize these
42 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
analogies of nature ; they form the stepping-stones for us
in the path of life.
In a recent examination of some manuscripts in Paris,
ascribed to the pen of E-osellinus, French critics have
discovered several detached pieces of writing, which dis-
play a lively turn of mind, altogether apart from the usual
topics of scholastic abstraction and interest. In a short
essay, entitled " Aphorisms," we have the following ob-
servations from this early and well-known schoolman :
ON THE IMAGINATION. There never was a greater
fallacy than that indulged in by many heavy-headed
people, that the exercise of the fancy or imagination is,
for the most part, useless or dangerous. It would be as
wise to say that painting and sculpture are useless, or
that narrative or description are useless ; for what are
the offices of these ? To place before the mind's eye one
or more events or objects in so striking a manner that a
strong moral effect is produced, and the lesson of history
or of real philosophy is impressed with tenfold force
upon him who reads and sees. To do these things at all,
a fine imagination is requisite. He who groups or paints
a historical picture, must first conjure up in his own
mind the whole visible scene he is to portray; and he who
essays to write a fine historical narrative, must, by the
force of fancy, himself became an actor in the scene, and
mingle personally, as it were, in the moving currents
of events. But the fancy or imagination can do more
than this : it can, out of materials of its own, construct
an edifice almost as morally useful as truth itself ; and
by the skilful application of vivid allegory or fictitious
narrative, expose vice or wretchedness in their blackest de-
SCHOLASTIC DOCTOES OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 43
formity, and exhibit virtue and wisdom in their brightest
and most engaging attitudes. Nor is this all. To the
play of the fancy ridicule and satire owe their sharpest
shafts, and by making villany grotesque, or picturing the
ulcered spot which crime would hide, raise the crimson
of shame upon the scoundrel's otherwise imperturbable
brow, and make the villain shrink who before never
faltered in his course.
GOOD AND ILL LUCK. Let philosophers and divines
say what they will, there are unquestionably in this
world such things as "good" and "ill luck." There
undoubtedly hangs about many men a something which,
despite their internal and intrinsic qualifications for good
or evil, shapes their ends to the fortunate or the reverse,
and falsifies all the predictions that the keenest observer
of human nature might found upon the revelations of
their earlier years, or growing talents and dispositions.
This gift of good fortune often indeed, generally
displays itself in the success of mortals, who, in them-
selves, have little or nothing to account for their rise in
life. Hence the most subtle and profound intellects do
not always make the most splendid discoveries ; the
finest tacticians do not turn out the most victorious and
successful commanders ; the most enterprising and adroit
merchants do not make the largest fortunes; nor the
most cunning gamblers win the greatest stakes. Luck,
or chance, or by whatever name men call it, seems to
delight to mortify genius and knowledge. It frequently
tosses into the lap of the tyro that for which the mature
man has for half his life been eagerly in search. This,
rule has, however, many exceptions. "When good luck is
44 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
united to great talents, the results are splendid and
imposing indeed. Such, men constitute in this world
stars of the first magnitude, and are of necessity of rare
occurrence, as well as conspicuous and resplendent. To
find Moses, Sesostris, Alexander, Marius, Caesar, Dio-
clesian, Constantine, and Gregory the Great, we must
overlook the histories, not of hundreds but of thousands
of years, and go back even beyond written records or
annals, to memorials of stone and brass, and the silent
eloquence of the pyramids. It is in few, indeed, that we
find the height of good fortune joined to the height of
talent. There have been many Caesars to whom Alex-
ander would have been fatal. Luck being arbitrary and
capricious in its nature, often, like the scorpion, stings
itself in extremity ; and having satiated itself, as it were,
with displacing others, characteristically ends in betray-
ing itself. Hence many great men have said in bitterness
to fortune, " "What have I done to deserve this ? " Han-
nibal, Pompey, Demetrius Poliorcetes, Belisarius, and
many others, have made ends less at variance with the
heights of their career than the world is ready to admit ;
because, both in their good and evil fortune, they have but
exhibited the caprices of the destiny which ruled them.
THE NECESSITY OF MEN ACTING FBOM PEINCIPLE.
All men who have studied in a true spirit either their
bodily or moral nature, must be aware that there exists
in both certain faults and defects, which are not only
from their own intrinsic evil to be avoided, but which
exercise a fatal influence ever upon the highest virtues
and accomplishments with which they may be accom-
panied. In art this is strikingly true. A small blot
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 45
upon the finest portrait will destroy its effect. A slight
slip of the graver may mar the finest picture ; and an
unexpected vein in marble may barbarize the most
finished statue. A few drops of water will for ever
sully the whiteness of the virgin snow. In animated
nature the same thing holds good. "Who can describe
the internal feelings of the pretended patriot, whether
king or statesman, who is conscious of a heart devoid of
principle ; or the inward despair of the hypocrite, at last
unmasked, who is aware from that hour his talents and
acquirements, his eloquence and his tact, his learning
and his acuteness, his experience and his cunning, are
worth no more than so many cyphers ? It is an un-
doubted truth, that men devoid of real principle ever
labour, more or less, under the conviction that this
defect is a fatal one, be their other virtues or adornments
what they may. This innate consciousness acts more or
less externally on the currents of their actions, paralyses
their vigour, throws coldness upon their enthusiasm, and
freezes the mechanical ardency of a temperament, that,
under other circumstances, would have been all-predomi-
nant. It is one of nature's irrevocable laws, that persons
thoroughly hollow are universally, and even to the most
careless observer, artificial and cold. Moved by a
fictitious earnestness only, they lack that natural and
generous warmth that can alone be given to the cha-
racter by the reality of internal virtue.
THE HISTORICAL VALUE OF THE PRIVATE LETTERS
OF G-REAT MEN. There is nothing connected with
historical writing so useful and interesting as the private
letters of distinguished individuals to their friends or
46 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
rivals. Formal studied narrative, whether it be in the
shape of annals, biography, or history, is to a certain
degree deceiving. Men are set on stilts, and their mo-
tions and actions coloured and varnished by historians
and biographers. Not so in the private letters of men
themselves. We there see their real springs of action
unbosomed to a friend, though concealed from all the
world besides. Hence this kind of correspondence be-
comes the corrective of history, and from a statesman's
private letters or secret sayings we sometimes gain more
real knowledge of exact historical truth, than from all
the elaborate complications, deductions, and reflections
of the historiographer, the annalist, and the chronicler.
Thus in Cicero's letters we find out the real situation of
the Roman State at the time when he wrote them, and
acted so conspicuous a part in that State, much better
than from the beautiful but studied narratives of Sallust,
Caesar, or Tacitus. To Pliny's letters we are indebted
for a more correct knowledge of the manners and habits
of the early Christians, than from the studied histories
and chronicles of the times. The same thing may be
remarked of every historical branch of writing.
THE VALUE OF GTENEBAL PKINCIPLES OF KNOW-
LEDGE. The great value of these general principles is
strikingly illustrated in the science of natural history,
which is undoubtedly one of the most interesting depart-
ments of human knowledge. When we cast our eyes
over the almost endless variety of natural objects, the
attempt to distinguish them from one another appears
a hopeless task; and to enumerate the various kinds
seems as Herculean an eifort as that of counting the
SCHOLASTIC DOCTOES OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 47
stars or the particles of sand on the sea-beach. By a
subtle process of the mind, however, this insurmountable
difficulty is in some degree removed. "We learn to
arrange the objects around us into particular classes ;
those classes are again subdivided into others with suit-
able marks of discrimination; and we subdivide these
afresh till we arrive at the individual which possesses all
the characteristics which belong to the class or genus.
Thus the whole arcana of nature become subdued by a
mental operation, confined, we believe, to the human
species alone. The longest life, joined to the most
vigorous and unremitting energy, would be inadequate to
the task of examining every individual being or object ;
but the natural philosopher, assisted by the observation
and experience of his predecessors, can ascertain the
number of kinds or species that have been discovered.
By means of this lamp of scientific arrangement, we
can detect the hidden treasures of the material world
around us.
Gilbert de Poree was a man of great learning, a man
of refined taste and sentiment for the age in which
he lived. The general current of scholastic lore and
disputation had not chilled his nature, nor made
him insensible to the more lively sallies of fancy and
imagination. In his letters, which have recently been
discovered in Paris, there are some charming pieces of
writing on miscellaneous matters connected with the
secluded life he led in some religious establishment in
the south of France. We shall transcribe a passage
which refers to his having been left nearly alone in his
residence, by the annual migration of his associates to
48 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
some sea-bathing retreat in the neighbourhood. "We
remember good Bishop Hall's remarks upon his book-
companions, and Petrarch's comments upon book-friends,
when we challenge an equal to the quaint pleasantry and
grim humour of this description by Gilbert de Poree of
A LIBRARY ARMY. He says : " Our residence is empty,
save only myself, and the rats and the mice that nibble
in solitary hunger. There is no voice in the hall, no
tramp on the stairs, no racket in the chambers, nor
trembling and noise below. The kitchen clock has stop-
ped. The pump creaks no more, and nothing sounds as
it did, except the splash of the river under the windows,
the dull and ceaseless roar of the distant city, and the
front-door bell. Travelling people amuse themselves
with that yet. But the camp is moved. The whole tribe
are in the country, ankle wet in dewy grass every morn-
ing ; chopping, hoeing, planting, fishing, or exploring
nooks and strange new places by the sea-side. But I
sit here with no company but books and some bright-
faced friends upon the wall, musing upon things past and
things to come ; reading a little, falling off into a reverie,
waking to look out on the ever-charming beauty of the
landscape, dipping again into some dainty honeycomb of
literature, wandering from author to author to catch the
echoes which fly from book to book, and by silent sug-
gestions or similarities connect the widely-separated men
in time and nature closely together. All minds in the
world's past history find their focal-point in a library.
This is that pinnacle from which we might see all the
kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them. I keep
Egypt and the Holy Land in the closet next the window.
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 49
On this side of them is Athens and the empire of Rome.
Never was such an army mustered as a library army.
No general ever had such soldiers as I have. Let the
military world call its roll, and I will call mine. The
privates in my army would have made even the staff-
officers of Alexander's army seem insignificant. Only
think of a platoon of such good literary and philosophical
yeomen as will answer my roll-call. "Plato !" "Here."
A sturdy and noble soldier. "Aristotle!" "Here." A host
in himself. Then I can call Demosthenes, Cicero, Horace,
Caesar, Tacitus, Pliny, and, of the fcimous Alexandrian
school, Porphyry, Jamblicus, Plotinus, and others, all
worthy fellows every one of them, fully armed and equip-
ped, and looking as fresh as if they had received the gift
of youth and immortality. Modest men all ; they never
speak unless spoken to. Bountiful men all ; they never
refuse the asker. I have my doubts whether, if they
were alive, I could keep the peace of my domains. But
now they dwell together in unity, and all of the train in
one company, and work for the world's good, each in his
special way, but all contribute. I have also in a corner
the numerous band of Christian Fathers Justin Martyr,
Tertullian, Origen, Augustine, St. Ambrose, and others ;
with their opponents, Fronto the rhetorician, Cresciens
the cynic philosopher, Celsus, Marcus Aurelius, and
Julian the Apostate. They now lie peacefully together,
without a shade of repugnance or anger. It is sur-
prising how these men have changed. Not only are they
here without quarrelling or disputing, without ambition
or selfishness, but how calmly do they sit, though you
pluck their opinions by the beard ! I can dispute with
50 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Julian, who is now mildness itself. Orthodox and
heretic are now upon the most friendly terms. No
kingdom ever had such illustrious subjects as mine, or
was half as well governed. I can put my most haughty
subjects up or down, as it pleases me, without tumult or
opposition. I can lead them forth to such wars as I
choose, and not one of them is deaf to the trumpet. I
hold all Egypt in fee-simple. I can say as much of all the
Orient, as he that was sent to grass did of Babylon. I
build not a city, but empires, at a word. Praxiteles and
Phidias look out of my window, while I am gone back to
the Acropolis to see what they have been about. The
architects are building night and day, like them of old,
without the sound of a hammer ; my artists are painting,
my designers are planning, my poets are chanting, my
philosophers are discoursing, my historians are spinning
their dry webs, my theologians are weaving their yet
finer ones, and my generals are trooping about without
noise or blood. All the world is around me. All that
ever stirred human hearts, or fired the imagination, is
harmlessly here. My library shelves are the avenues of
time. Cities and empires are put into a corner. Ages
have wrought, generations grown, and all the blossoms
are cast down here. It is the garden of immortal fruits,
without dog or dragon. No such garden was Eden, in
the past. It is the Eden to which the race is coming,
that is to see the true Adam and the true Eve.
Now let us dip into the works of Roger of Lille, a
theologian of the thirteenth century, known for his
extreme subtlety of genius, and his fierce conflicts in
favour of the doctrine of predestination. He can be
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OP THE MIDDLE AGES, 51
playful and sensible on every-day topics of interest and
inquiry. Hear what he says of a class of men who seem,
to have been in existence in his day as well as now, and
to whom we apply the expressive term of BORES : This
class of men, says the scholastic, never die ; they never
have the common decency to die. They spin out exis-
tence to the latest moment, and usually enjoy good
health and the unimpaired use of their tongue till the
latest moment. In fact, they are never dumb till they
are coffined. They travel extensively, and know all
countries and persons, and everything in and about them.
They stick closely to you, nor can any coldness of
manner shake them oif. If you get into a passion, they
only smile at your simplicity. Bolt them out of the
door, they will come in by the window to tell you some-
thing they had forgotten to mention. They read inces-
santly, and deal out again all they receive ; and when
they begin their labours, always promise to be very
brief. They never forget names or places ; these are
their guides and finger-posts to long harangues. They
have a great talent of minute description, and treasure
up every cast-off rag of other men's conversation. They
are the great torments of a university man's life.
On the BALANCES OE NATURE the divine thus
speaks :
Look throughout the works of the all-wise Creator.
The oak is majestic and strong, and lives out the memory
of its planter, but it is comparatively barren. The
smaller trees are compensated by their fruitfulness. The
shrubs that are not fruitful are fragrant. The most
gaudy flower has no attraction to the smell. Many
52 OLD FACES IN" KTGW MASKS.
poisonous plants and herbs have more external beauty
than the sunburnt sameness of the ripened corn. The
violet lies concealed, but its delicious odour betrays the
place of its concealment ; and he who plucks the rose,
must dare the penance of the thorn. Many of the
reptile race possess great strength, but no venom ; others
possess venom, but little strength. Birds that charm us
most with the melody of their song have the least
attractive plumage. In the great elements of nature we
recognize the same thing. The hottest climates produce
the choicest fruits and the best drinks, although often
highly inimical to the human frame. Thunder-storms
purify the atmosphere; and even wars and pesti-
lence have their correspondent advantages. In the moral
nature and social life of man we see the same compensat-
ing rules. Kings are often the least happy of their
subjects. Power and wealth become surrounded with
envy, enemies, and cares. Throughout the whole of
nature the pleasure of mankind is varied, but the degree
is as great. He who is born amid the eternal snows
regrets not the want of balmy breezes and spicy groves.
Providence has so well regulated the mysteries of the
human intellect and heart, that they accommodate them-
selves to every situation ; and the balance is so complete,
that the surface of the aggregate of existing things is as
smooth as glass. "We are all on a level. There is nought
in nature that outweighs. "What is wanted for the
balance in physical matters is made up in moral per-
fection.
The same author makes a few remarks on the ABUSE
OF THE POETICAL TALENT of his day. At this he felt
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OE THE MIDDLE AGES. 53
indignant, which was natural enough, as a member of
the church, and a collegiate teacher of youth. He says :
What motive can prompt men of genius to commit this
outrage on common sense and feeling ? What consola-
tion of joys, present or anticipated, can support them
under the pressure of mankind's almost universal repro-
bation, and conceal from their deluded eye the wrath of
an angry Deity ? This is indeed a difficult inquiry.
Their motives seem not to be fathomable, unless we dive
into the abysses of a wickedness, in which I would be
.sorry to think any of my fellow-creatures plunged. The
apparent consolation from such impure sources can only
be deducible from a malicious and demoniacal misan-
thropy. It is quite impossible to believe that such are
their actuating principles ; and yet, the mere gratified
pride of being spoken about by the public, from such a
cause, and in such a manner, can hardly be thought an
.adequate compensation for the sacrifices that counter-
balance it. In a pecuniary or worldly point of view,
the advantages are clearly on the side of moral writings ;
and it cannot be considered an easier task to please
by vicious than by pure productions. The sublimest
themes are offered in the contemplation of the Deity.
Virtue appears awful and lovely to the lowest of man-
kind. Vice is to the mental eye a monster of deformity;
and before her appearance can produce any sensation but
disgust, she must glitter in a thousand ornaments. Poets
feel this. Hence we see them toiling to heap upon
unworthy subjects the most lavish and elaborate decora-
tion. Nay, they often have recourse to the unworthy
device of imposing falsehoods on the world, by insinuat-
54 OLD PACES IS ISTEW MASKS.
ing that criminal actions are really pure and noble. Thus
it is not enough for the courtezan to sparkle in gems,
and allure by the splendour of her dress ; she must affect
the blush of modesty, before her wiles can completely
succeed. Eut let not the works of Catullus, Ovid, and
other Eoman writers of the same stamp, hold out to the
immoral writers of our age the delusive hope of immor-
tality, since these writers owe their deathless infamy
to the peculiarities of their position. Their writings were
relished by the growing corruption of a state, whose
ruin they doubtless hastened ; and they now nourish in
immortal youth by the perpetual freshness of their fasci-
nating and changeless language.
Who has not heard of Thomas Aquinas ? called, by
way of eminence, the Angelic Doctor whose name is a
watch-word, a tower of strength for all that is profound,
mystical, and laborious in philosophy and divinity, and
whose works amount to twenty volumes folio. Yet this
able man could be sportive and jocund with his pen. He
was in the habit, his biographers say, of writing witty
and amusing things by way of relaxation from severer
studies. There are some fragments of a short ESSAY ON
THE GENERAL HABITS OF THE LITERARY AND ACADEMIC
GENIUSES OF THE DAY. The doctor says, in one place :
Of all professional men, or rather men who profess
anything, whether they are called professional or not,
according to academic fashion, commend me to your
men of what is called literature. They sit themselves
down in the morning, and they read a book, or take their
pen, whichever may happen to be nearest, for they can-
not move either leg or arm to a reachable distance for
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 5o
anything, be it ever so important; and there they sit
reading, or writing, or thinking about, I know not what
or thinking about nothing. "Well, the dinner-bell rings ;
this moves them for this is one of the choice things
of this world for which our literary men have a keen
relish ; and this breaks the charm of their reverie for
about a couple of hours. But if they are buried in some
heavy speculative undertaking, they dine where they sit,
or suffer the dinner to stand by them till cold, or eat
it three hours after, when all the cooks in our universities
would pronounce it hardly fit for the hogs to eat. These
literary men are the most indolent in body imaginable
nothing moves them in this world. If they are fully
bent on the chase of some literary or philosophic game,
you may send to them a hundred times, before they will
rise from their beloved occupation. They roar out,
" Coming directly ;" " I'll be there in a moment ;" " Just a,
line to pen, and I'll be there." All the while they are
insensibly lying; for the moments are slipping away,
line after line is written, sentence after sentence read,
but still you are none the nearer of making an impres-
sion upon them. They are like beings under the in-
fluence of fascination. The longer they sit, the longer
they would sit. They are fixed to their seats by the
wand of the enchanter ; unless this be broken, or the
book pulled out of their hands, there is no hope of their
rising. They move sometimes to stir the fire or shut the
door, but always as if labouring under a weight of
trouble. I still, however, entertain a deep reverence for
these hatchers of thought. The world is greatly bene-
fitted by their being nailed to their seats. They sit
56 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
peacefully studying in the midst of distress, and in spite
of bodily difficulties and annoyances, that would drive all
serious thoughts from the minds of the rest of mankind.
Poor Archimedes ! He was one of your close sitters.
He was solving a problem when Syracuse was taken.
He heard not the clash of swords, the thundering batter-
ing-rams and catapults, nor the roar of the conquering
besiegers. A soldier rushed into his study. A man was
sitting in deep abstraction. Compasses, and diagrams,
and models of unknown instruments, were before him.
The blockhead no doubt thought he was conjuring, or in
a fit of speechless despair at the capture of the city.
" Follow me," cried the fool. If he had not heard the
noise of the victory, how should he recognize the sound
of a single man's voice ? The abstract philosopher re-
turned no answer. Vexed at his disobedient silence,
and, it may be, alarmed lest the city should fall into
ruins from the magic machinations of the .unknown, with
one stroke of his sword he laid poor Archimedes lifeless
at his feet. Who can tell what was sacrificed by this
cruel and hasty act ? what chains of philosophical
thought were severed for ever, and lost to mankind ?
Aquinas sketches, with the graphic pencil of a carica-
turist, one of his own calling, a UNIVERSITY DOCTOE,
known for his ready and fluent oratory on some of the
curious questions of the age. The character, we have
no doubt, was a rival of Aquinas himself, at a period
when collegiate disputation was the main road to dis-
tinctions and honours. Hear what the "Angelic Doctor"
says : You see that doctor, a large and portly figure,
arrayed in black, out of whose pockets are sticking many
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 57
folios of manuscript ? The day is perhaps rainy, and he
passes from the corridor of his study to the hall of dis-
cussion, with a precise step, and an air of assumed
dignity. Behind him, a college page follows with a load
of books for reference and quotation. His full, round,
reddish face glows with recent rhetorical conquests. The
smile of conscious strength plays about his mouth. His
eyes beam with a wild wariness that indicates he has
subtle enemies to cope with, but that he looks forward
to triumphs still in store for him. He is one personifi-
cation of sophism. He deals sometimes in jokes, and can
ape the pathetic. His placid gait and easy step are
indicative of the oiliness of his insidious elocution. He
makes his formal introduction to his audience by a few
epigrammatic sentences. In laying down his principles,
he places them in form with complaisant candour ;
sketches his opponent's arguments in a one-sided atti-
tude of apparent fairness, and dwells upon the minute
shades of argument with an air that implies that he
could tell you much finer and cleverer things if he chose.
His internal emotions are visible from his convulsively
twisting his little finger around the corners of some
small volume he generally holds in his hands. His
academic gown and cap sit upon him with singular
neatness, and his bands are long and invidiously clean.
As he proceeds in discussion, he lays down the volume,
and becomes more animated, declamatory, and personal.
He throw's the skirts of his gown over one arm, and
strikes the desk with the other hand. There is abundant
evidence that he has deeply conned over the various
systems of the ancients on oratory, relative especially to
58 OLD EACES I2T NEW MASKS.
the popular effect of action. His studied gracefulness
meets you at every turn. But in time this gives way to
another aspect of things. An angry topic is started. He
reddens. Now he folds his arms, and colours more and
more. He holds up both his hands, and spreads them
openly to the audience, in a supplicating attitude ; and
in the height of his energy slaps them together three or
four times most vehemently, indicating that his argu-
ments are conclusive, and brought home to the under-
standings of his hearers. If this appeal fail for his eye
is quick, and soon detects the symptoms of victory or
defeat he strikes the desk violently, and makes various
gyrations with his arms, as if he defied all that could be
brought against his statements. Towards the close of
his address, he foams at the mouth, his eyes roll with
surprising restlessness and fire; and then giving a de-
nunciary sentence or two against all his opponents, sits
down exhausted, and receives the customary mead of
applause.
This sketch, though interesting in many points of
view, affords but a faint idea of the angry tone which
generally characterized the discussions of the schoolmen
for many ages. Indeed, we can form no very adequate
notions of the force of virulent invective and coarse
raillery which these paragons of learning displayed to-
wards each other, in attempting to solve knotty questions
in doctrinal theology and moral casuistry. The universities
of Prance, England, and G-ermany, became one grand
arena for the discussion of the abstract doctrines of the
overheated parties; and even sovereigns, led doubtless
by some political reasons of the hour, took a part in the
SCHOLASTIC DOCTOBS OF THE MIDDLE AGKE3. 59
contest, and did not scruple, on some occasions, to em-
ploy civil pains and penalties to gain a victory or punish
an enemy. The accounts which creditable historians
and eye-witnesses have given of these contests, exceed
all belief. We are told by one author, that, at the public
disputes in European colleges, it was no uncommon
thing to see the combatants shout till they were quite
hoarse, use the most gross and insulting language, make
grimaces at each other, threaten personal chastisement,
and struggle with and endeavour to prostrate each other
to the ground. When words and threats failed, recourse
was had to the fists. As in the wTestling schools, they
buff, and spit upon, and kick, and bite ; and even go
beyond this, and use clubs and other dangerous weapons ;
so that many get wounded and not a few killed outright.*
Erasmus informs us, that in these middle-age rhetorical
contests the parties grew first pale, then they reddened
in anger, began to spit upon, and attack each other with
their fists ; some speaking the language of the Nomi-
nalists, and some that of the Bealists.f
Eut leaving the many chequered phases of these
ancient controversies, which constitute one of the great
* ct Clamores primum ad ravim, hinc improbitas, sannse, minecy
convitia, dum luctantur, et uterque alterum tentat prosternere : con-
sumtis verbis venitur ad pugnos, ad veram luctam ex ficta et simu-
lata. Quinetiam, qusB contingunt in palaestra, illic non desunt
colaphi, alapse, consputio, calces, morsus; etiam qua? jam supra leges
palsestrse fustes, ferrum ; saucii multi, nonnunquam occisi." Ludo-
vicus Vives.
f " Eos usque ad pallorern, usque ad convitia, usque ad sputa,
nonnunquam et usque ad pugnos invicem digladiari, alios ut Nomi-
nalis alios ut Reales, loqui."
60 OLD PACES IN" NEW MASKS.
landmarks in the history of the human understanding,
let us look again at the "Angelic Doctor's Ace OTJNT OP
A COLLEGE CHUM of his, in one of the universities of
Spain, whose mental peculiarities are touched off with
great minuteness and gaiety. Aquinas writes : This
learned man, who gained reputation in his day, had a
striking feature in his character ; a feature not certainly
in keeping with his known abilities and wide renown.
He was always beginning projects, but never went any
further. To begin is certainly good ; but never to get
beyond a commencement is a poor achievement indeed.
I visited him several years before his death, soon after
leaving Naples, and I had many opportunities of witness-
ing this confirmed and curious habit of procrastination.
What a wonderful writer he would have been had he
completed all the literary projects that he was about to
commence ! He began a history of Home, but never got
beyond the first chapter. He commenced an introduc-
tion to Apuleius's " G-olden Ass," but he never ad-
vanced further than a few lines. He often came to my
room to announce that he intended to begin writing a
book upon a most interesting subject. He harped upon
this string for many months ; and I left him with the
project only beginning. A mutual friend and I fell upon
a plan to make this man of beginnings finish a project he
had suggested. It was a commentary on Cicero. "We
thought the idea excellent, and knew our friend to be
well-fitted for the task. We took him, therefore, into
another room in the college, and locking the door, plainly
told him he was then and there to sit down and write the
essay. He pled hard, and promised faithfully to do it
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 61
the following day ; but we were deaf to his entrea-
ties. Seeing no hope of escape from the task, he
sat down, and in a few hours we had a fair outline
of the performance. It was admirably done. It was
curious to witness his extreme fidgettiness during
the time he laboured. He laid down his pen every
now and then, looked rather imploringly in our
faces, but we kept constantly reading, and took no notice-
He would then rise from his seat, pace across the room a
few times, down again with the pen, and then assumed a
thinking and working mood. I often fancied he was look-
ing to see if he could make a successful bolt from his
task. I have known many men strongly tinctured with
this failing. Indeed, I have no doubt but the best
amongst us has some share of this imperfection. "We
have all had our "beginnings^ and there ended. The Ro-
mans seem to have been impressed with the conviction
that beginning was all in all. Their important word for
beginning is principium^ which likewise signifies a princi-
ple, as if designed to convey to the mind that beginning
was the principle, the foundation, the core and seed of
everything. And so, in some cases, it is. Beginning is
of no importance, if we never go beyond it. To make a
beginning worthy of itself, and of the high name our
Roman forefathers gave it, one should get as rapidly, and
at the same time as substantially, forward in the path of
execution, as will lead us to completion. To make a mere
attempt at beginning as it were to begin, is not the cha-
racter oiprincipium ; it is no principle. Nay, it is down-
right cowardice ; the only thing which merits such an
appellation is that which has the soul of the end in it
62 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
or, at the very least, the inspiration of half-way in the
spring and vibration of its pinions. I have thought that
the word beginning, and the idea we commonly attach to
it, is one of the most puzzling things in nature. It is
redolent of seriousness and awe. The most wonderful
attribute, the quality that strikes us with the greatest
force of conviction of the power and majesty of Omnipo-
tence, is, that it has " neither beginning of days, nor end
of years." Though our own beginning is unknown, every
one sees or knows the beginning of somebody else ; and it
has always appeared to me as a great manifestation of
the benevolence of the Deity, that we are not allowed to
know the misery and helplessness of our commencement
of existence. Indeed, we studious persons, whose life is
one continued stream of thought, know that the begin-
ning itself is the great obstacle to all exertion. When
we have to write a book, the very idea of it hangs like a
millstone about our necks, for weeks. "We are obliged
sometimes to rush into the middle of our subject at once,
to get rid of the idea of beginning, and never getting any
further. What a bundle of perplexities we are. We
are here in the world. We know nothing about our
entry into it. We find ourselves within, as it were,
the circumference of a 'circle of life, without any direct
conviction that we were ever on the other side of it.
We are entirely within the circle, for we come in and go
out with the same vague unconsciousness.
It would also appear that Aquinas had some ideas
about intemperance in drink, that might have been very
pertinent in recent discussions on the subject : " Most
disputes," says he, " on the use of stimulating beverages
SCHOLASTIC DOCTOES OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 63
have been one-sided. Some attack the use of wines
under any circumstances, as we see exemplified in the
conduct and exhortations of some of the early Fathers of
the Church ; others, again, argue for their indiscriminate
use. The true moral of the matter lies in moderation.
Man in society is a compound of many opposite and con-
flicting springs of action. It is bigotry and intolerance
to say that a little merry-making from the use of wine is
immoral and reprehensible. A person who is constantly
liable to be drawn into pernicious or questionable actions
by a temperate use of cordials, cannot be very firmly
grounded in morality. He must have a strong innate
taint of the vicious about him. Social intercourse to
such an individual is often but a snare. On the other
hand, a person who can bear a little excitement with
benefit is a good and agreeable companion. There is a
sensibility and heartiness about him which are pleasant to
all to witness, and which are as improving as pleasant.
All inflammatory drinks to the young are of doubtful
utility. Nature at this period of life does not require
them ; and when the passions are strong, and the judgment
weak, they often become an easy prey to folly and vice.
Albert the Great flourished in 1280. He was a
celebrated scholastic, but not so able a man as Aquinas,
though his writings are of a more popular cast. Albert
has left many of his works behind him, a portion of which
have long been in print, but several are still in manu-
script in the Royal Library at Paris. A small tract of
his has recently been translated into French, " ON MO-
RALITY." It is systematic in its arrangement, but
popular in its style and mode of illustration. On cast-
64 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
ing a glance over it, in the chapter devoted to the
" Passions," we stumbled upon the following remarks.
Before laying them before the reader, however, we must
simply premise, that one of the great principles in the
philosophy of the middle ages was to search for what
was termed^msZ causes ; that is, the reason why a thing
is what it is. Mere facts, considered as such, were
nothing; but the cause or reason of them was everything
with these scholastic searchers after truth. They carried
in their mind, and shaped their movements in conformity
with, the maxim in Virgil,
"Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas."
Bearing this in mind, we proceed to offer Albert's
ideas of the PASSIONS : All our passions are made to
fit or dovetail into each other. There is nothing super-
fluous nothing in itself evil. Take any one of our
passions from us, and what odd creatures we would
become. It is the excess or improper use of passion
which constitutes immorality. Let us conceive for a
moment how we should exist without passion. Deprived
of that gift of Heaven, there would be neither law,
divinity, nor contention. We should never know the
blessings and pleasures attendant on reconciliation, for
we should never quarrel. The ten commandments would
be a dead letter, and the Roman code unnecessary. The
moral world without passion would be like the physical
one without darkness and without rain without hills
and valleys without cities and solitudes nay, without
earth and water. To be without any one thing, is to be
without its opposite ; because you could never perfectly
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 65
know the one without its opposite. In this world most
things go by contrast. You could not know hard, if it
were not for soft you could not speak of bitter, if it
were not for sweet you could not understand deep, if it
were not for shallow. Surliness is the parent of sweet-
ness of disposition.* As the world is, all things are
beautifully adapted to each other. Without passion, the
world would fall in pieces. A man without passion,
what can he be compared to ? A climate without storms
a cloudless eastern sky, all sunshine, and glow, and
clearness, and sameness. Or say, rather, a stagnant
pond, a dead sea of slumbering tranquillity, over which
the refreshing breeze hath never blown to cool the
beams of midsummer, on which the many-coloured
pennons of imagination never waved. Such an indi-
vidual is a burdensome companion. He neither thinks
nor speaks, neither sings a song nor kicks a coward,
nor enjoys a hearty, jolly laugh with an acquaint-
ance. You are never at home with him. Some of the
old Greek dramatists, if I remember right, used to make
fun of a man of this stamp. This was all right ; only
the wit and fun would be thrown away on such a lifeless
piece of clay. The great and general objection against
the stoical philosophy has always been, that it attempted
to denude man of his passions, to make him an unfeeling
and apathetic creature, and to invest him. with a vege-
* It is curious to notice how the human mind Las moved in a
circle from almost time immemorial. This is the doctrine of the
German philosophers, who have recently founded their views of
scientific truth on the 'principle of contrariety. We wonder whether
Hegel ever read this passage.
F
66 OLD FACES Iff NEW MASKS.
table rather than an animal existence. Seneca was a
wise man in many respects, but his system of morality,
as a system, is entire y worthless.
JEgidus <le Colomia nourished in 1300 ; and left,
among other literary works, several FAMILIAE LETTERS.
In one of these he informs a friend that he invariably
found great pleasure in visiting the bury ing-places of the
dead, lie says : I have ever felt a peculiar interest and
delight in. visiting burial-grounds in our chief cities.
They have invariably been productive of a tender and
soothing kind of melancholy, which affected my own
mind, at least, in a way not easily described. I have
often sat for hours on some tombstone, musing on the
past and the future ; conjuring up by imagination the
thousands of living beings who once rejoiced in all the
vigour of health and buoyancy of spirit, but who are now
mouldering beneath my feet. And how often, under
such circumstances, has the conviction flashed vividly on
my miiid, that but a, few years at the very most, and I
myself, with all my cares, and projects, and hopes, must
pass into this land of forgetfulriess. The Parisian places
of interment are always more than commonly interesting
to me. "What burning thoughts have rushed into my
mind, when I have visited the tombs of the illustrious
philosophers who have figured in the university of this
city ! It is one of these places I would like to dwell in
for ever.
In another letter, he urges his friend not to contract
the habit of reasoning or arguing on both sides of a
question. He observes : As the reasoning powers of man
were given him to discover truth and detect error, a
SCHOLASTIC DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 67
straightforward and ingenious employment of these
powers is a solemn and incumbent duty upon him. I
have always conceived the conduct of the Greek sophists
reprehensible. They did their country great harm, by the
prostitution of their rhetorical talents to party purposes.
To expose error ought to be one of the religious duties of
every man who has any education and ability for the task.
Very false notions have been current on this subject. It
has commonly a debasing effect on the understanding, to
wrangle for the mere sake of victory. The love of truth
should ever be uppermost in the mind of a true benefactor
to mankind. The mere vanity of displaying our own
talents or ingenuity is but a poor excuse for the injury
which is inflicted on what is true and worthy of com-
mendation.*
* Opera. Cal. : 1685. Vol. iii. p. 364.
68 OLD TACES IN NEW MASKS.
A PEW WOKDS AEOUT EELS.
]^o inhabitant of the deep has attracted more notice,
from its natural character and habits, than the eel. It
is associated in our minds with our earliest attempts to
gain a knowledge of the " gentle art ;" and there are few
persons who have not some lively recollections of their
lishing exploits in securing this slippery and troublesome
customer. It is not at all improbable that the serpentine
form of the eel may have added to the singular interest
which has attached to it, particularly since the com-
mencement of the Christian era. Its resemblance to the
serpent tribe has, no doubt, tended to deepen the dra-
matic power and interest of many legends about this
lish, which are current both on the continent and in this
country.
Respecting the generation of the eel, there have been
the wildest and most ridiculous notions. One ancient
author supposed that eels were born of the mud ; another,
that they were produced from particles scraped from the
bodies of large eels when they rubbed themselves against
stones ; that they grew out of the putrid flesh of dead
animals thrown into the water ; from the dews which
cover the earth in spring and summer ; from water, and
so forth. Among modern writers, we have the same
confusion of theories. There is a popular notion in many
districts of the north of England, that eels are generated
from horsehairs deposited in springs and rivulets. A
A FEW WOKDS ABOTTT EELS.
recent G-erman author mentions that they owe their
origin to electrical phenomena ; but he is sadly at a loss
about substantiating his theory by facts. The great
naturalist, Buffon, is said to have remarked, in the latter
part of the last century, at a meeting of French savans,
that he considered the question as to the generation of
eels to be one of the most puzzling in natural history.
The late Bishop of Norwich, Dr. Kay, read a paper to
the E-oyal Society on this subject. He noticed some
small eels in the thatch of a cottage ; and he endeavoured
to establish the proposition that the spawn of the fish
had been deposited on the reeds before they were cut,
and had been subsequently vivified by the sun's rays.
The gastronomical qualities of the eel have been
extolled from the earliest times. It was prohibited, how-
ever, as an article of food among the Jews ; and the
ancient Egyptians, while rejecting it as such, gave it a
place among their deities. The Greeks were passionately
fond of the fish, and cooked it in every possible fashion,
as we find recorded in Athenseus and other classical
writers. Archestratus, in his work on gastronomy, says
of the eel :
I praise all kinds of eels ; but for the best
Is that which fishermen do take in the sea
Opposite the Strait of Bhegium,
Where you, Messenius, who daily put
This food within your mouth, surpass all mortals
In real pleasure. Though none can deny
That great the virtue and the glory is
Of the Strymonian and Copaic eels,
For they are large and wonderfully fat ;
And I do think, in short, that of all fish
The best in flavour is the noble eel.
70 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Pliny says, there were eels in his day three hundred
feet long. In another place, he says that eels live eight
years ; they are able to survive out of water eight days,
when the north-east wind blows ; but when the south
wind blows, not so many. In winter they cannot live if
they are in very shallow water, nor if the water is
troubled. Hence it is that they are taken more espe-
cially about the rising of the Pleiades, when the rivers
are mostly in a turbid state. These fish take their food
at night ; and they are the only inhabitants of the deep
the bodies of which, when dead, do not float on the
surface.*
Yerrius informs us that formerly the children of the
Boman citizens, while wearing the prsetexta, or sanato-
ria! gown, were flogged with eel-skins, and that, for this
purpose, no pecuniary penalty could by law be inflicted
upon them.f
Isidorus, in his Glossary, says, Anguilla is the name
given to the ordinary scutica, or whip with which boys
are chastised at school.
Habelais says (Book ii. c. 30), " Whereupon his
master gave him a sound lashing with an eel- skin, that
his own would have been worth nothing to make bag-
pipe bags of."
The conger-eel was offered to Neptune and his divine
colleagues, as being capable of imparting immortality to
those who partook of it ; and Macrobius informs us that
it was a common saying among the Grecians that the
dead would return to life if it were possible for them to
taste a morsel of this delicious fish. Another writer tells-
* " Nat. Hist.," book 9th. f Pliny, book 9th.
A FEW WOBDS ABOUT EELS. 71
us that near Sicyon, a city of the Peloponnesus, there
were conger-eels caught of such dimensions as to require
a waggon drawn by oxen to carry one of them. Even
the head and intestines were eaten, and esteemed deli-
cacies.
The ancient Anglo-Saxon tribes were passionately fond
of eels. Grants and charters were often regulated by
payments made in eels. Four thousand of them were a
yearly present from the monks of Ramsay to those of
Peterborough. In one charter, twenty fishermen are
stated to have furnished sixty thousand eels to the mo-
nastery. Eel-dikes are often mentioned in the boundaries
of lands belonging to religious establishments. The
Gauls were great consumers of eels ; and among their
descendants there are many tenures of land in France
stipulating for the payment of rent, and the discharge of
stipulated public taxes in eels. In one of the capitu-
laries of Charlemagne we find allusions made to the same
subject.
There are several places in England which derive
their names from the quantity of eels they formerly pro-
duced. jElmorc, on the river Severn, and Ellesmere, on
the Mersey, were once famous for the production of this
fish. The town of My, too, is singularized in this way.
Euller, in his Worthies of Cambridgeshire, has the follow-
ing remark: ""When the priests of this part of the
country would still retain their wives in spite of what-
ever the pope and the monks could do to the contrary,
their wives and children were miraculously turned into
eels ; whence it had the name of Ely. I consider this
a lie."
72 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Eu.de, the celebrated cook to Louis XVI., was known
all over Europe for his mode of serving up this fish.
He says in his book On Cookery: " Take one or two
live eels, throw them, into the fire ; as they are twisting
about on all sides, lay hold of them with a towel in
your hand, and skin them from head to tail. This
method is decidedly the best, as it is the means of
drawing out all the oil, which is unpalatable. Note.
Several gentlemen have accused me of cruelty (astonish-
ing!) for recommending in my work that eels should
be burned alive. As my knowledge in cookery is en-
tirely devoted to the gratification of their taste, and the
preservation of their health, I consider it my duty to
attend to what is essential to both. The blue skin
and the oil which remain when they are skinned, are
highly indigestible. If any lady or gentleman should
make the trial of both, they will find that the burnt
eels are much healthier ; but it is after all left to their
choice whether to burn or skin." The consumption
of eels, as articles of food, throughout Europe, is pro-
digious. In London, the number imported, chiefly from
Holland, amounts to about ten millions annually ; and
the fish is met with on the most sumptuous, as well as
on the most frugal tables food alike for the London
alderman and the gamin in the streets.
The ancient and modern physicians have dabbled
with the eel, as with most other fish, to a great extent.
Hippocrates denounces him to all his patients, and
particularly to those afflicted with pulmonary consump-
tion. Galen says he is indigestible to weakly people.
Rhases and Magninus maintain that his food is dele-
A FEW WOKDS ABOUT EELS. 73
terious to persons recovering from fever ; and Franciscus
Eonsuetus, when speaking of rheumatic ailments, forbids
the eel, for the general reason :
" All fish that standing pools and lakes frequent,
Do ever yield bad juice and nourishment."
Another of the olden medical writers says that he
found the oil of the eel highly useful when used as a
mollifying unguent to soothe the nerves when suffering
under " hot rheumatism." The gall of the fish he em-
ployed as a liniment for sore eyes ; and the bones of
the head were ground to powder and found efficacious
in bleedings at the nose. It is a common practice in
the north of England at this hour for young lads to tie a
piece of eel-skin round their ankles, to keep away cramps
and pains. There is an old ditty, in this part of the
country, which reads thus :
" Around the shin
Tie the skin
Of full-grown river-eel ;
And every sprain,
And cramp and pain,
"Will % unto the'deil."
We are told if a gray eel with a white belly be
inclosed in an earthen pot, and buried alive in a dunghill,
and taken out at the end of a fortnight, its oil when
collected will be found a sovereign remedy for deafness.*
The eel has been a subject of augury in dreams. If
a young woman dreams of eels, she may expect to have
slippery lovers. To dream of fish generally is a sign of
sorrow ; but if you catch eels, and can retain them,
* Dr. Adrian Gilbert.
74 OLD FACES IK IS'EW MASKS.
it is a sign of your possessing a kind and fast friend.
A writer on dreams, in the middle ages, affirms that to
dream of eels, portends a large family of children ; and
if you dream of cooking them, your children will give
you a great deal of trouble. The following is stated
in a work called the True Interpretation of Dreams
(Bologna, 1614) : One of the kings of Spain dreamed
three successive nights that an eel came out of his
mouth, and made a desperate struggle to regain a small
river which flowed hard by. The king took his sword
and endeavoured to prevent it entering the water ; 'but
it escaped, got into the water, and mounted up on the
opposite bank. It then went into a cleft in a rock.
This was in a locality which the monarch knew very
well. He called together some of his domestics, told
them the dreams he had had ; and they all went to visit the
chink in the rock, where they discovered a very valuable
treasure of gold and precious stones.
The voracity of the eel has been a fertile topic of
discussion and romance among naturalists and anglers.
It is doubtless great. We have ourselves witnessed this
fish, devouring each other greedily. There is scarcely
anything too delicate, and few things too nasty, for his
ravenous appetite. He has often been found with a
half-decayed water-rat in his mouth; and it has been
recently stated in the newspapers, that at Wimpson, in
Hampshire, the ducks on the farm were denuded of their
feet by some large eels that were found in a pond which
this species of poultry were in the habit of frequenting.
But we find the most remarkable statements about the
voracity of the creature in a work called The Wonders of
A FEW WORDS ABOUT EELS. 75
Nature and Art, published at Berwick-upon-Tweed in
1780. About the middle of last century, the farmers
near Yeovil suffered greatly by losing vast quantities of
hay. This could not be accounted for. A reward was
offered for the supposed culprits ; upon which several
soldiers, then quartered at Yeovil, kept watch, and to
their great surprise found, in the dead of the night, a
monstrous eel making its way out of the river, and
setting itself to feed greedily on the hay ! It was de-
stroyed, and roasted ; and the fat that came out of its
body filled several casks and tubs. This work was
expressly designed by the writer as a " useful and valua-
ble production for young people."
The eel has been a fruitful topic for legendary lore
in most European countries. The subject, however, is
so voluminous, that we can do little more than merely
dip into it. The legend of the " Lambton Eel " is well
known, and fully recorded in the various histories of
the county of Durham. The substance of the story is
a3 follows : The heir of the Lambtons, in the early part
of the middle ages, fell into a profane habit of angling
on a Sunday. On one of these hallowed days, he caught
in the river "Wear a small eel, little thicker than a com-
mon thread, which he threw into a well. In process
of time, this young heir of the Lambton family was
called to the wars against the Moslems in the First
Crusade, organized by Peter the Hermit, where the
ambitious young soldier distinguished himself by many
feats of daring and valour. On returning to his own
country, he learned with great surprise that the small
eel he had thrown carelessly into the well had grown to
76 OLD FACES IN FEW MASKS.
a fearful magnitude, and manifested the most cruel and
ravenous propensities. He was solicited to rid the
vicinity of the monster. It frequently coiled itself nine
times round a large tower ; daily levied a contribution of
nine cows' milk on the inhabitants ; and, when this was
not immediately granted, it devoured both man and
beast. Before, however, the valiant knight undertook a
personal conflict with this enormous eel, he consulted a
noted witch in the neighbourhood. She advised him to
put on a coat-of-mail, furnished on the outside with
numerous razor-blades. Thus equipped, he sallied out
and encountered the huge fish near a high rock on the
banks of the Wear. It immediately coiled itself round
him. His coat of razor-blades, however, proved more
than a match for the gigantic eel, which was soon cut in
pieces by the sheer exercise of its own strength. There
is a sequel to the legend : the witch promised the Count
of Lambton her aid only on one condition, that he
should slay the first living thing he met after the con-
quest. To avoid the possibility of human slaughter, he
directed his father that as soon as he heard three blasts
from his bugle in token of victory, he should release his
favourite greyhound, which he would immediately sacri-
fice. When the bugle was heard, the old father was so
overcome with joy that he entirely forgot the injunction
his son had put upon him, and ran out himself and threw
himself in the victor's arms. Instead of committing
parricide, the heir repaired again to the old sorceress,
who evinced considerable wrath at the neglect of her
commands. By way of punishment, she foretold that no
heir of the Lambton family should die in his bed for
A TEW WORDS ABOUT EELS. 77
seven some accounts say nine generations ; a predic-
tion which some local historians affirm came literally
to pass.
Loke, a Scandinavian giant, and a boon companion of
the god Thor, changed himself into an eel.
"A slimy eel Loke cut through the wave,
Prom the Thunderer's vengeance his neck to save ;
The peasants for many a league could see
How he glided and bent him so pliantly.
He passed through the monsters and wealth of the deep,
Saw whales a-sporting, the kraken asleep ;
He swam straight to Norway, to Lindesnosss,
There hid him awhile in the mud and the grass,
Then, resuming his form, he sat on a rock,
Like a peasant-boy watching a porpoise flock."*
But the superstitions connected with eels, and the
mythical and legendary stories in which they figure
are innumerable ; and to avoid being carried beyond
our limits, we shall insert the following, and then let
the subject slip through our fingers at once :
A LTTTEL GESTE OF A GREATE EELE.
The following ballad relates to an incident mentioned
in Dr. Andrew Borde's " Merrie Tales of the AVise Men
of Gotham," published in the early part of the reign of
Henry VIII. The point of the jest lies in drowning an
eel; alluding to a practice in Peveiisey, one of the
Cinque Ports, of giving judgment in criminal matters.
" In judgments of the Crown, if a man be condemned to
fleath, the port-reeve, as coroner, shall pronounce judg-
* From a poem by Oehlenschlager.
78 OLD FACES IK NEW MASKS.
ment, and being seated next the steward shall say, " Sir,
withdraw and axe for a Priest" and if the condemned be
of the franchise, he shall be taken to the town bridge at
high water, and drowned in the harbour."
" In daies when Popysche governmente
Odayned agaynst our wishe,
That men sliolde, durying time of Lent,
Bothe dyne and suppe of fysslie j
" There liv'd a verie honest wight
A free-man of this porte,
"Who by his neyghbours Perkyn hight
(Hys other name was Short e).
" ]S"ow Perkyn never could awaie,
With dyet slyght and meane ;
So man on thys fatte lande, they say,
In better case was seene.
" Hys mutton, and his march-feede beefe
Hee picked unto y e bone,
Untyl he stoode in bolde releefe
A man of twentie stone.
" A right goode Catholyke was hee,
And dulie pay'd his tythe,
Prom cowe, and pigge, and fowle, and bee,
From syckle and from scythe.
" But yet one item of hys creede
Went sore ageynst the wishe
Of hys confessour Father Speede
He colde not dyne of fysshe.
" And in y c drcarie tyme of Lente,
J3y commonlie transgressinge
The rule on beefe and mutton bente
Hoc loste the father's blessyng.
A FEW WOEDS ABOUT EELS. 79
" Tyll by adventure on a daye,
Whyle wyth a neyghbour faring,
Hys heart was muche releeved, thei save,
By tasting a redde-herryng.
" Had Perkyn beene a leurnyd wight,
And knowne a bit of Greek, a
Case more than likelie 'tis hee might
Have cride alowde "Eureka.
" But since of Latino and of Greek,
Hee noughte at alle dyd knowe,
As sone as joie wold let hym speake
He onlie sayd c Hullowe?
" '"Why this is somethyng like a fisshe,
A relyssho new and gustful !
And Holie Churche of this same dishe
Wyl nevere be distrustfulle.
' !N"oe more I'le fret o'er Lenten chere
"Wyth eyght or tenne of these,
"Wasshed down with goode Octobyr beere,
He dyne and suppe with ease.'
" Arryved at home hee told hys wyfe
His newe discovered pleasure ;
Hee nevyr hadde in al hys lyfe,
Of joie so fulle a measure. .
" Says Perkyus { Rodger, ryde our nagge
To Hasting, for to chuse
Of these same ifysh a pretie bagge,
To breecle them uppe for use,'
" Y e groomc went foorth, and soone was backe
(None colde have rydden faster),
Wythe fulle three bushels in a sacke,
And gave them to hys master.
SO OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
" ' Judyth,' says Perkyn to his spouse, \
My lovinge dame and fonde,
We'll eate two busshels, and we'll put
One bussliel in oure pond.
" ' When Lent comes next there sure will be
Of ffyshe a large increasse,
Enow for me, and eke for thee,
For everie daie a messe.'
" So from the sacke thei straightway drew
Of heryings all the best,
Y e whiche into theyr ponde they threw
For foode reserved the reste."
[Heere endytli y e fyrst parte of the jeaste of y e Eele 7
and lieere dotlifolowe the seconde parte oftlie same jesteJ]
" Agayn is Lenten tyrne come round,
And layd aside his beefe ;
Sir Perkyn trustith from his ponde
To drawe a goode releefe.
" Saves Perkyn, ' "Wife, my angles fetch,
And eke my roclde and lyne,
I goe some heryng for to cacche,
Methiuks they'll prove full fyne.'
" Unto his ponde in bly thesom sort
Doth Perkyn hie, but, marry !
Full cold y e weather for that sporte,
At the end of February.
" Sayes Perkyn, ' 'Tis a fysche that's shic,
And verie slowe to byte j
So I a nette must even trye,
And dragge the ponde outright.'
A TEW WOBDS ABOUT EELS. 81
"So Roger, John, and Hykke, he bade
To bryng his fysshynge nette ;
33 ut 'twas in vayne with all theyr aide,
No heryng he cold get.
" Sayes Perky n, c This wyl never doe j
I e'en thys ponde must drayne
Pull up the sluice ! ' The water through
Then foamed and dashed amayne.
" Eftsoones y e ponde is drayned right
Of water every dele ;
But nought appeares to Perkyn's sight,
Save one greate wrygglynge eele !
" ' Marry,' says Perkyn, then, I wis
My luoke is surely evyll
Yon villaine eele hath eate my fysshe ;
Beshrew thee, ravenous devyll 1 *
" Now Perkyn takyng uppe the theefe,
In ireful moode did saie :
' Thou shalt be punysshed to thy grief;
For thou must dye streyghtwaye 1 '
" ' Groe hange hym, maister,' Rodger sayd ;
' Choppe off his head/ quoth Hykke ;
'Naye, burnehim, Syr,' says honest John,
* For this soe knavysh try eke ! '
" Eche servaunt hadde a severall wyssche
Eoger a theefe did view hym
And as a traytour worthy Hykke
Looked on him. 'A foule heretyke,'
Said John, * he is to steale Lent fyschhe
By'r Ladye I beshrew hym.'
<; ' Peace, fooles,' says Perkyn, ' for 'tis writ,
And in our charter founde
That he who murther clothe committe
I' the haven must be drownde.'
82 OLD FACES rtf NEW MASKS.
" So to the bridge thei bare him fastc,
To dye for that hys slawghter,
And withowte more adoe, thei cast
Y e eele into the water ! !
" So Father Speetle the worthie deede
Dyd Perkyn then reherse,
As hath beeue either sunge or sayd,
In our foregoing verse.
" TAX TECUM! 'twas well done,' qouth heej
And now for thy releefe.
(Hy paying Holy Church a fee)
Prom fasting thou absolved shalt be
Go dine all Lent on leefe I "
" See here's an ende to Perlcyn stout,
And eke to Father Speede ;
Tlie eele hys punisshement (noe dowt)
Thought capytalle indcede."
HERMIT LITEEATUEE. 83
HEEMIT LITEEATUEE.
OX THE LITEEATUEE OF THE EAELT CHRISTIAN FATHEES
OE THE DESEET, FEOM THE SECOND TO THE EIGHTH
CENTUEIES INCLUSIVE.
THE retirement of single individuals from the world, and
their voluntary abandonment of everything like social
enjoyment and comfort, forms a curious, and in some
points of view an interesting feature in the early ages of
Christianity. At first sight there is certainly something
unnatural and fanatic in this seclusion ; but a closer in-
quiry into the nature of religion, and the secret springs
of human action, may, perhaps, lead one to avoid any
rash and unqualified censure upon such voluntary expa-
triations from social and civil duties and enjoyments.
It must be conceded on all hands, that religion is
either one of the most important things in this life, or
nothing at all. There is no middle course. To those,
therefore, who are fully convinced of the first part of our
position, it will not appear so extravagant, should their
feelings be roused, and their hopes and fears so much
excited, as to induce them to give undivided attention to
such an important subject ; to devote the whole intel-
lectual man to its sublime truths ; and to consider no
earthly sacrifice too great to endeavour to raise human
nature up to its elevated scale of morality and devotion.
This course of proceeding seems to have the countenance
84 OLD FACES IK" NEW MASKS.
of many general analogies in nature. Whenever an im-
portant end in the constituted order of things is to be
effected, we always clearly recognize a sufficiently powerful
and well-arranged apparatus for its accomplishment. And
it certainly would appear a thing out of all character,
were the serious and awful considerations of a future
state of rewards and punishments to fall upon the human
ear with all the transitory coldness and indifference
attached to temporal affairs. There seems, then, to be a
remarkable fitness in religion engrossing the individual
attention of a part of mankind, at least, in order that
they may preserve its vital principles, and impart a share
of their enthusiasm, by personal devotion, to the greater
and colder masses of the human family.
Most ecclesiastical writers have expressed a decided
preference to monkish institutions over a life of simple
and solitary seclusion and austerity. But the grounds
for this preference it is somewhat difficult to see. As a
general rule, the more men are divided, the more innocent
and virtuous they are. In reference to individuals re-
tiring from the world under a deep impression of religious
truth, it certainly does appear a less objectionable pro-
ceeding than assembling a considerable number of per-
sons together, where the diversity of tempers, characters,
and attainments, must necessarily require a code of laws
and regulations, and the strong hand of authority, to
mould the mass into anything like a manageable and
harmonious compound. For what is the real state of the
case ? A private person, perhaps a man of distinction
and wealth, determines to withdraw from general society,
for the sole purpose of contemplating the system of
HEEMIT LITERATURE. 85
revelation with undivided attention. He disposes, per-
chance, of his riches to his poorer neighbours, and builds
himself a rude dwelling by the side of some solitary and
rippling stream. It is questionable whether human society
loses anything by such a step. There is no fear of all
men embracing a secluded life ; for Nature has planted
such active and social principles in our constitution, as
to preserve society from such a catastrophe as this.
Religious asceticism assumes much of the same social
phases as celibacy does in common life ; a matter more of
individual taste, than of direct interest to the welfare of
a commonwealth.
It is not necessary to affirm that all the ancient re-
ligious solitaries were men of uncommon wisdom, piety,
and goodness, in order to make out a reasonable plea for
the liberty of occasionally withdrawing from the world.
These advantages cannot be urged in defence of anything
human. Undoubtedly the Fathers of the Desert were
considerably below the average intellect of large monastic
institutions in later times; because the very peculiar
situation of the former nearly precluded the possibility
of mental cultivation and communion of thought. But
we know there were many of the Christian hermits of
great natural talents and acquired information, and many,
likewise, who had seen the world in all its varied phases,
and been recipients of its highest favours, pleasures, and
honours. Many of these ascetics were also persons of
refined and generous feelings, with hearts susceptible of
the most benevolent sympathies, and of a truly noble and
heroic frame of mind.
The question as to the historical evidence for the
86 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
truth of any literary productions of the early Fathers
of the Desert, will necessarily be viewed under various
aspects by different denominations of Christians. It
must be admitted that there cannot be the same degree
of external evidence for the authenticity of the contents
of works of this description, as for the biographical
narratives and literary remains of all or any of those
voluminous writers of the early church who took a con-
spicuous part in the stirring events to which the intro-
duction and establishment of Christianity gave rise.
Solitary individuals afford little inducement for noto-
riety or distinction. Whatever flowers of intellect
blossomed here, would certainly run the risk of being
doomed to "waste their sweetness in the desert air."
But still this natural state of things would not alto-
gether exclude collections of scattered records of these
martyrs to solitary devotion and study. This would, to
a certain extent, take place ; and there is this circum-
stance in its favour, that there is nothing in the lives of
these persons likely to give rise to fabrications as to their
conduct or talents. They were placed beyond the pale of
sectarian animosity and party feeling ; therefore, if the
narratives respecting themselves and literary labours be
probable in their main features, they may fairly enough
lay claim to a reasonable share of credibility and reliance.
E/uffinus, who flourished in the middle of the third
century, collected memoirs of the solitaries of the desert.
He went from Borne to visit those who lived in Egypt,
and afterwards travelled to Jerusalem, where he resided
for upwards of twenty years. The number of his biogra-
phical sketches of the Christian hermits amounted to
HEBMIT LITEEATUEE. 87
thirty-four. They have always been held in great repute
by ecclesiastical writers. Palladus of Galatia was
another chronicler of the ascetics ; was himself a solitary
on Mount Nitre, and nourished about the year 388. He
was afterwards made bishop of a diocese in Bythinia.
His biographical compilation is highly spoken of by
Socrates, the ecclesiastical historian, and St. John of
Damascus. Sulspin Severus, a disciple of St. Martin,
and a priest, was the author of the " Lives of the Her-
mits " in Egypt, of which there are several manuscript
copies in the public libraries in Spain. Theodoret, bishop
of Cyr, was the author of a similar work on the number
and character of the ascetics in Syria, and the neigh-
bouring countries. He lived in the fifth century. Pela-
gius, Paschal, and John Mose, an abbot, followed in the
same style of biographical narrative.*
* As this subject is interesting to theological historians in par-
ticular, and is comparatively little known in this country, we shall
once for all insert in this note some of the chief sources from, which
the materials for this paper have been obtained. We may just,
however, observe, that what we here insert does not contain a
twentieth part of what is written on the subject, and what still Ees
mouldering in the principal public libraries in France, Italy, and Spain.
"Traite dela Lecture des Peres des Deserts," par de Bonaventure,
Paris, 1697 ; " Traite de 1'Emploi des SS. Peres Deserts," par Jean
Daille, Greneve, 1632 ; " Le Miroir des Beligieux," par P. Dacrian,
Paris, 1585, folio ; " La Solitude Chre'tienne," par Charl. Savreux,
Paris, 1667, 3 vols ; " Les Pensees de la Solitude, Chretienne, et le
Mepris du Monde," par Toussaint de Saint Luc, Paris, 1682 ; " On
the Lives of the Saints of the Desert," Milano, 7 vols. 1554; "Les
Vies des Saints Peres des Deserts," Amsterdam, 4 vols., with en-
gravings ; "Historiam Eremiticam Complectentes," Antverpise,
1615; "Rodolphus Hispanianus de orig. Monach," Venise; "Le-
gends of the Saints," by Jacques de Vosagine, Nurembergh, folio,
88 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
The earliest solitary noted for his learning was St.
Ephraim, a Syrian by birth, and a hermit of one of the
high mountains in Arabia Eelix. He had been a rheto-
rician of note, and is said to have written a commentary
on the Book of Job, and to have been acquainted with
the writings of several of the Greek philosophers. Some
writers fix his death in the latter end of the second cen-
tury, and others a century later. St. Male lived in the
year 301, was a native of Antioch, and one of the most
profound mathematicians of his day. He devoted him-
self, on his retirement from the world, solely to the study
of the Scriptures, and to works on natural philosophy
and mathematics. A work of his on the last-named
branch of knowledge is said to have been known in
Europe in the eighth century, and was then used in
the Arabic language. Arsenius and Apollo were both
Egyptian solitaries, who led lives of great austerity, but
were known in their day for their general knowledge of
1650; "Les Ties de SS. Peres," Bruxelles, 1610; " Asservazioni
sulla Morale Cattolica," Venise, folio, 1604 ; " Les Ties des Saints
Peres des Deserts," Strasburgh, folio ; " Flos Sanctorum, M by Petro
Rebadeurira, Cologne; "Vita Sanctorum," Rome, 1520, five vols.,
folio ; "Vita Sanctorum," 1 vol. , folio, in manuscript of the thir-
teenth century, in the Vatican Library at Rome ; " Les Institutions
Monastiques, et les Collations des Peres," translated from the Latin
by Jean G-olein ; " De los Sanctus Hermanos," Madrid, folio, 1601 ;
" Discursos Apologeticus de los Martyres," Barcelona, 1516 ; "De
los Martyres de Arabia," Lisbon, 1565; "Melanges Asce"tiques,"
Lille, 1623; "Versos Espirituales," Cadiz, 1612; " Divina PoDsia,"
Barcelona, 1602 ; " De la Vida Solitaria," Madrid; "Itinerario dc
la TierraSancta," Madrid, 1569 ; "Dialogas de Cosas Espirituales,"
Madrid, 1701; "Sanctorum Eremiticum Vita?," Lisbon, 1561,
folio.
HERMIT LITERATURE. 89
polite literature. Arsenius was acquainted with many of
the Roman writers, and is said to have written a com-
mentary on Virgil, and appended many interesting
notes to Pliny's " Natural History." Apollo had "been
originally a Roman lawyer, and was the reputed author
of a work on general Jurisprudence, founded chiefly on
the writings of Cicero.
Coming later down to the fourth century, we find St.
Simeon, a native of Aleppo, known for his assiduous cul-
tivation of rhetoric and poetry. He studied philosophy
and literature at Alexandria, and about his thirtieth year
was smitten with a life of solitude. He took up his
abode on a rugged and romantic cliff on the banks of
the Euphrates ; where, according to some chroniclers, he
lived fifty-three years, during which he had made, how-
ever, four journeys to Constantinople. The following
poetical effusions are ascribed to his pen by his Spanish
biographers. " The Persian," a poem composed of about
one hundred and fifty lines. It describes him as an
idolater, but under the influence of strong feelings of
religious adoration ; the poet saying
" Virtue and gentleness of mind yield him a dream of bliss,
But undefined those feelings droop, far, far from happiness,
In sorrowful devotion wrapt, he wonders and adores.
Veil'd are his hopes unknowing he of rich redemption's
stores."
And then St. Simeon goes on in the piece to show
how much happier he (the " Persian ") would have felt
himself, had he been acquainted with all the doctrines
and promises of the gospel scheme of salvation.
90 OLD FACES IN ]S~EW MASKS.
" The Christian in the solemn houi', when harmony is flowing
Through all creation, feels his soul with holy rapture glowing :
He too, in contemplation wrapt, and reverential thought,
Worships not blindly his joy in perfect trust is fraught."
Another poem we have " On the Break of Day,"
which is comprised in about one hundred lines. It is very
pretty in many portions of it. His verses " On the
Sabbath Morning " are full of pathos and religious devo-
tion. This effusion is short. Then follow two other
pieces : the one, " The Cave on the Banks of the Jor-
dan;" the other, "The Cave in the Bock." These are
both beautifully descriptive of eastern landscapes, and
true to nature." " The Hermit's Tomb " is the last in
the series of his compositions. It commences thus :
" Here rests the mystery of heart and brain,
So sensitive, so active, and so wise ;
Here the most subtle framework shall remain,
Till the loud trumpet calls it to arise.
" From every blade of grass methmks I hear
A holy whisper and a pensive sigh ;
As if the spirit hermits hover' d near
The silent valley, where he cared to die.
" The date and fig bend o'er his lowly bed,
No longer cultured by his patient hand ;
The simple food on which he daily fed,
While dwelling in this wild, but beauteous land.
No bitter herb, no sullen thorn shall flourish
From the new soil, where such a relic lies ;
His flesh the purest, brightest plants shall nourish,
And yield to fairest noon their loveliest dyes.
HERMIT LITEEATUEE. 91
" Whilst through the quiv'ring mimosa tree,
The silver moon shall love to shed her light ;
. And shining insects, in full brightness be
Watchful to cheer the transient gloom of night."*
Another St. Simeon is mentioned, called the learned.
He nourished about the commencement of the sixth
century, was a native of Antioch, and the only child of
very wealthy parents. He studied at Alexandria, and
devoted himself so assiduously to his academical studies,
that, before he arrived at the years of manhood, he was
considered a prodigy of learning and talent. After the
death of his parents, when he was in his fortieth year,
he sold off all his goods, and divided the proceeds among
his poorer neighbours, keeping only a small moiety of
his income for cases of emergency. He then entered
into a cave, on the summit of a lofty mountain, situated
about one hundred miles from the place of his nativity.
Here he devoted himself to religious study and contem-
plation. He is chiefly known for a collection of biogra-
phical notices of many of the Fathers of the Church, of
whose characters he seems to have formed a very saga-
cious and correct estimate. These sketches are very
short, but pithy. "We shall furnish two or three as a
specimen, taken from a Spanish translation :
St. Cyprian. Genius consists of three elements
quickness of perception, great industry, and a power to
generalize facts and observations. It is said that Aris-
totle remarked, that he owed his extensive acquirements
more from having a command over his mind, to keep it
steadily to a given object and end, than in any natural
* " Versos Espirituales," pp. 9199.
92 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
superiority of intellect. And certain it is, that steady
and concentrated application is essential to the accom-
plishment of all great undertakings. No man ever
produced an immortal work by hasty and vacillating
attention. And this remark may be applied with truth
to minds of the highest order, and, with still more
force, to feeble and dull apprehensions. Here industry
and attention are everything. We 'daily see men of
mean parts gradually, like the tortoise, gain upon the
fleetest minds, in the management of public affairs, and
in the government of the Church, solely by a steady,
fagging, and an indomitable purpose.
These general remarks apply to St. Cyprian. He was
late in his adoption of the Christian religion; and it
required he should apply his time to the best use. He
was indefatigable in his studies ; and his friends often
remarked, that he conquered every difficulty by sternness
and inflexibility of purpose. Though passionately fond
of oratorical displays, his speaking was often interrupted
by unseemly and uncalled-for praises. His friend Caci-
lius often lamented this imperfection. "When advantage
was attempted to be taken of St. Cyprian in public
discussions, on account of these defects in his rhetorical
displays, he never noticed them, but kept the object he
had in view steadily before him. The people of Carthage
loved Cyprian as a brother. "When he had to leave them,
on account of the troubles which arose after he became
bishop, his soul was deeply affected, and he shed tears
like a child. The letters he sent to his charge during his
absence are full of kindness and pastoral anxiety.
Origen was one of the most wonderful men of his
HEBMIT LITERATURE. 93
day; but he had one fault which greatly marred his
worth, an unsteadiness of mind, or a too great versatility
of purpose. And we often find that a single speck will
considerably tarnish and deform the most valuable and
brilliant objects. The lustre of the diamond is diminished
by a minute spot ; and the transcendent beauty of the
female form neutralized by the hidden cancerous issue.
And the same thing holds good in the Christian life and
character. The ardour and impetuosity of great genius
needs the balancing power of humble qualities to render
them useful, and preserve them from committing injury
where good is intended. Origen was warmly and con-
scientiously attached to the Grospel ; but his unconquer-
able desire of knowing all things often led him into
troubles and speculative errors. He wanted the sedative
of steady contemplation, to render his talents and his
active efforts fruitful to their fullest extent. Yet, in
spite of all these drawbacks, he must always be consi-
dered as one of the greatest teachers of the Gospel, and
one of the noblest monuments of its heart-stirring truths
and doctrines.
St. Gregory of Nazianzen. The history of religion
furnishes us with three kinds of characters engaged in
her public services and conflicts ; for it is in the religious,
as in the' natural world, that a variety of attainments
is a necessary and wholesome ingredient ; and here, as
there, nature abhors monotony of colour, tone, and
character. Some men are brought up in theology from
the sheer accident of birth. They are predestinated
from the cradle to be deacons, priests, and bishops.
Then we have a second class, who are religious disciples
94 OLD FACES IN yEW MASKS.
and partisans from temperament and constitution. These
display the bias of their minds from their boyish days.
They are the active and stormy spirits at school, love
contentions and displays, and have a keen relish for
infantile distinctions. We have a third class, different
from either, and to whom the interests of religion can be
more safely confided. These are persons who take
an active part in religion from the mere force of circum-
stances, and who are constantly under the influence
of an inward and powerful sense of duty. Their lives
display a constant struggle between pre-established
habits and the part they are called upon to act before
the world. Like Cincinnatus, they leave the plough,
or Marius, the farmhouse, to defend or battle for the
urgent and vital interests of mankind. They often
shrink from the sense of the responsibility they are
under, and are only held to action by an adamantine
chain of duty, virtue, and nobleness of character. But,
in spite of this seeming reluctance, they have souls which
melt not at the stake, nor shrink from the scaffold.
St. Gregory of Nazianzen might be considered to
belong to the first class of men, as his father filled the
bishop's see of Nazianzen. But St. Gregory's character
classes him with the third class. All his public move-
ments were, in a great measure, forced upon him. He
inwardly disliked the bustle of public life ; he shrunk
from popular gaze ; contention chilled his soul ; he loved
the tranquillity of solitude, and perpetually sighed for
the pleasures of study, reflection, and literature. But,
in opposition to this mighty array of inward feeling, he
could display the most unconquerable firmness, and the
HERMIT LITEEA.TUEE. 05
most devoted attachment to principle. He came forth a
solitary recluse, as from the bowels of the earth, and
became preacher, confessor, metropolitan president of the
general council, and then, when his duty was finished, he
retired again to his solitary haunts, to meditate, to do
penance, to be silent, to pore over books, and to write
poems. He became dead to the Church, and all its great
movements and interests !
Tertullian. There is no quality among men, especially
men moving publicly in religious matters, so important
as truth and earnestness of purpose. Let all your move-
ments be the genuine offspring of sincerity, and you
obtain an easy access to every heart. The same prin-
ciple holds good in all the works of nature and art.
There must be life thrown into everything, otherwise
it has no hold upon our affections. The want of it
paralyzes every faculty, deadens every feeling, and
cramps every energetic movement.
Tertullian was a striking example of this. He threw
into everything his whole heart and soul. Sincerity and
truthfulness were portrayed in every action of his life ;
hence all his public displays made a deep impression on
his audience. There was not the most distant appear-
ance of vanity, calculation, or ostentation; everything
seemed the natural result of the most perfect simplicity
and singleness of purpose.
But this admirable quality had its accompanying
evils. It gave a ready currency to his errors of judg-
ment, and induced many clever and able men to follow
him in his by-paths to Christian doctrine. This it was
which made the learned, brilliant, bold, quick, ingenious,
96 OLD FACES TN Is'EW MASKS.
and eloquent Tertullian so all-powerful over the specu-
lative minds of his day. In him delusion appeared
without its badge, and error without its deformity.
St. Appolinaris. I have observed in the Church
that art is often strength in the beginning and weakness
in the end. This rule holds good in reference to all
things hollow' and showy. They are like those apples
which poets tell us grow by the dead sea beautiful and
enticing to look upon, but when plucked become a heap
of .bitter ashes. When a temporary object is to be
gained, a florid audacity will often be more effectual than
solid attainments. But when a long course of duty
and action have to be sustained, nothing but real talent
and worth can successfully maintain itself against the
searching criticisms of the world.
And the same holds good in all matters of human
learning, literature, and philosophy. Those poets and
thinkers of antiquity are the most lastingly pleasing and
instructive, who are most natural; whereas abstruse
and conceited notions have nothing abiding in them.
Mankind will always relish Plato and Aristotle ; but
many of their shining contemporaries, who fluttered
before the world in crotchetty sophisms and idle theories,
are already deservedly forgotten.
Appolinaris was a victim to ambitious singularity.
He was a bold and clever man, with great activity of
temperament, and a copious flow of animal spirits. At
one period of his life he singularly benefitted the Church.
He was consequently caressed and flattered ; and this
led to his ruin. As a friend and patron, Athanasius says,
he had an eloquent tongue, which seemed to carry him
HERMIT LITERATURE. 97
off his feet, and gave him an incessant itching after
notoriety of all kinds. It is quite obvious he was not
sincere in his religious creed ; nor, in my humble opinion,
was he deeply versed in theological lore. His abilities
were superficial, and he owed his elevation to the see of
Laodicea to management and intrigue.
Arius. The church has within its pale the vain and
conceited, as well as the humble and diffident ; those who
are fond of standing at the corners of the streets, and
seeking the praise of man rather than of Grod, as well as
those whose souls are full of self-contrition, and the
inward consciousness of great unworthiness. The love
of notoriety has produced incalculable evils in the church.
A vain man, when possessed of a certain portion of
talent, is sure to fall a prey to those who soon find it
their interest to natter him. He cannot labour in har-
mony with others in any great object* He must always
be the prominent actor, and considered the mainspring
of the movement. It is necessary to coax and humour
him like a child, or he diverges from his course in a mo-
ment. Passion is his guide, instead of principle. Self
is ever uppermost in his imagination ; it is only here he
can see real perfection.
Now Arius was precisely a man of this sort. He
had an average share of learning, a showy eloquence, and
110 small portion of tact ; but, then, he was for ever fish-
ing in the troubled waters of notoriety. It seemed to
be the food on which his soul lived. There was an out-
side display of candour and disinterestedness, but it was
only skin deep. When you touched his pride, you de-
tected the crimson flush of offended dignity rush into his
H
98 OLD FACES IK IS'EW MASKS.
cheeks. During the discussions of the Council of Nice,
he gave numerous indications of his grovelling propen-
sity for popular distinction.
These are fair specimens of the sketches of character
written by St. Simeon the learned ; and all must admit
that they display great shrewdness and ability. The
number of these portraits amounts to above thirty, and
they all manifest the same learning, accurate observation,
and graphic talent.
Now we come to notice Peter the Anchorite, born in
the neighbourhood of the Black Sea, about the year 450.
After receiving a good education, he went into Syria, and
commenced merchant, but only followed this mode of
life for three years. He then turned his attention to
religion and general study, went into a solitary hut, and
employed his leisure in pious contemplations and literary
pursuits. His thoughts are given in the form of " Let-
ters," and among the number of these we may notice
four : " On Decorations of Churches;" " On the Fathers
of the Church;" " On Eeligious Authority;" and " On
Human Wisdom." There is great good sense displayed
in these epistles. Take, for example, a single paragraph
from the " Decoration of Churches," and neither Luther
nor Calvin could have more rigorously applied the
pruning-knife to the over-wrought and gorgeous embel-
lishments of the Roman Church. "And, my dear friend,"
says this solitary, " have we not the most unerring guide
in this matter? Can it be possible for us to mistake
this subject ? Have we not the church of the apostles
to direct us ? And pray, what was that church ? Did
ostentatious ornaments form an essential part of it ? By
HERMIT LITERATURE. 99
no means. The apostles' church was a church of hea-
venly graces and heavenly influences not of splendid
temples and costly altars. Spirituality was the essence
of this church; it was its life and soul. Is not this
intended for a lesson to us ? Ought we not rather to
aim at making our churches like those of the apostles
than to aim at heathen decoration and tinselled flum-
mery ? Eor my own part, if the matter depended upon
my own will, I would most certainly prefer being in
communion with a church which had nothing to boast of
but its spiritual guides, than one where all was tinsel,
and worldly pomp, and splendour. The one brings you
much nearer heaven than the other."
Alonza de Yega is another star in ascetic literature.
He was a Spanish recluse, and his adventures and learn-
ing are largely dwelt upon in Spanish chronicles. He
flourished in the latter section of the sixth century;
and at an early age he travelled through a great portion
of the north of Africa, and displayed remarkable zeal
and energy in propagating the Grospel in several districts
in this part of the globe. He wrote a treatise " On
Mathematics," a work " On the Nature of Unbelief,"
and another " On the Immortality of the Soul, and
Eternal Punishments." These several works display a
philosophic mind of a high order.*
St. Isidorus flourished about the year 750. Some
chroniclers make him a native of Syria, and some of
Spain. He was an only son of a military officer of note,
who took an especial interest in his early education.
After studying at some of the most distinguished usiver-
* " Los Padros," vol i., p. 200. Madrid; 1610,
100 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
sities of the age, lie was appointed to a public office of
great responsibility, which he retained till his forty-fifth
year, when a sudden change came over his mind. He
was smitten with a love of seclusion, sold off all his
goods, and betook himself to some wild cave in the most
mountainous district in Andalusia. He is now chiefly
known for a " Journal " he wrote on his travels in the
Holy Land. This is an extremely interesting production
in itself, as well as in the light of an instrument in the
hands of the modern historian, to enable him to give
some rational account of that universal excitement which
took possession of the European mind, and which gave birth
to these extraordinary movements the Crusades in the
East. "We see, in the language of Isidorus, what were the
prevailing sentiments among Christians, as to the sanctity
of this part of the world, and how deeply seated were their
hatred and detestation at its desecration by infidel in-
vaders and conquerors. The writer says, in the " Journal,"
" I had, during my whole life, a lively and ardent desire
to see the Holy Land the place of our Saviour's birth,
life, sufferings, and death. This desire, as it increased in
years, became every day more vehement and uncontrol-
lable, until at length I felt it my duty to yield compliance
with it. As a secondary object, I wished to see some of
those eminent and pious persons who have dedicated
themselves to Grod in a life of austerity and humiliation,
and who have for so long a period filled the East with
their fame."
The author then goes on to state that he visited many
districts on the Lower and Upper Nile, where he con-
versed with several learned men then well known for
HERMIT L
their literary and theological writings. At length he
found his way to Jerusalem. Hear what he says on this
point : " I shall never forget my first sensations on ob-
taining a glimpse of the Holy Land. I fell down upon
my face ; I felt an inward thrill of sublimity run through
every part of my body, and conceived I was now cer-
tainly in the presence of Jehovah himself. I remained
in this torpid state for several minutes, so that my guides
were apprehensive I was dead. "When I recovered from
the tumult of my feelings, I felt a sweet and tranquil
joy, that, through the mercies of Grod, I had been able to
see with my own bodily eyes that which my mind had
dwelt upon from the earliest days of my childhood. Yes,
I had now seen the Holy Land, that blessed spot of
God's creation, so fruitful of wonders and happiness to
the human race. I was now treading upon that very
; ground where, perhaps, my Saviour, or some of his own
tehosen disciples, had trodden before, when effecting the
sublime work of man's salvation ! How engrossing the
thought ! how interesting the retrospect of such mighty
events ! As I trod over the ground, every stone, every
twig, every tree, in fact, everything which presented itself
to my senses, possessed an unusual charm and interest,
which I had never before experienced from anything
earthly. Even the barren rocks and frightful deserts
had their charms, and recalled to my mind many of the
leading events in the history of the Jewish people, the
chosen of the Almighty. I thought of the Garden of
Eden, of man's creation, his fall, and expulsion from it ;
of the deluge, of the giving of the ten commandments,
and of all the marvellous things which are contained in
102 OL:D ; PACE& r I]S T NEW MASK
the Old Testament. My soul was filled with holy joy
and awe, and pious resolutions were formed to devote
the remainder of my life to the contemplation of these
mysterious but interesting themes.
" As I proceeded on towards the city of Jerusalem,
my feelings became more moderate, and my curiosity less
restless and excited. But, when I obtained the first
glimpse of the hallowed place, all my old sensations re-
vived, and I stood and gazed, almost deprived of utter-
ance. My guides, who could not enter into my emotions,
were surprised at my demeanour, and thought there must
be something odd about me. But I could not check the
violent and intense rush of my feelings, and of the re-
collection of the multitude of interesting events of which
this notable city had been the theatre."
Isidorus then goes on to describe the city, which he
does with great judgment and feeling. His description
does not differ materially from what is given by modern
travellers. He says : " I approached the sacred city by
way of Hebron, and the distant view I had of it from
this point of inspection was grand and imposing. No-
thing in this sublunary world ever afforded me such pure
and ravishing delight. As I drew near to the gates of
the city, I fell down on my knees, and fervently offered
up my sincere and hearty thanks to heaven for my safe
protection hitherto, and for the gratification of all my
desires. Now I thought I could die in peace. I had no
earthly object, in the way of curiosity or ambition, to
gratify. This was the consummation of all my desires,
and more I could not hope for, nor wish."
"We find, however, Isidorus giving vent to his wrath
HEEMIT LITEEATUEE. 103
and mortification that this holy ground was then, as now,
in the possession of a race of men who despised the
Christian name and ordinances. Here we recognize that
inward rancour of the heart felt with great intense-
ness that was, a few centuries afterwards, to give rise
to one of the most singular and gigantic movements
among nations of which there is any record in the his-
tory of the human family. He says : " I speak of my
joy in visiting the Holy City; but I speak with a
mournful reserve, when I consider who are now the
rulers of this country the enemies of our faith, and our
bitterest persecutors. But such is the fact. My heart
bleeds when I think of the conquests of these infidel
men, and the subsequent severities which they have
exercised over the scene of the most wonderful event the
world ever witnessed. But repining is useless ; and I
feel assured that future ages will revenge themselves upon
these cruel intruders into holy and sanctified ground."
Isidorus was the author of a " History of Judea,"
but which was carried no further down than to the entire
overthrow of the Jewish monarchy. He was likewise
the author of a work " On the Yalue of Church Wor-
ship," which contains many fine passages. His several
productions must have been pretty well known in the
earlier section of the middle ages, for we find that Peter
the Hermit, the great oratorical instrument in the orga-
nization of the first European crusade, when addressing
one of his crowded audiences in Paris, the French mo-
narch and many of his courtiers and generals being pre-
sent, the preacher quoted a passage from the " Journal"
of Isidorus on the Holy Land, which told so powerfully on
104 OLD FACES IN !NEW MASKS.
the feelings of the audience, that they rose up as one man,
and interrupted the impassioned orator by loud acclama-
tions in favour of his grand scheme of eastern invasion.*
St. Beiioin was a native of Phrygia, and studied at
Alexandria, where he greatly distinguished himself "by
his philosophical studies. He afterwards practised as a
lawyer, but falling in with the writings of St. Gregory of
]N"azianzen and St. Basil, he felt deeply enamoured with
a solitary life, and betook himself to the desert, where
he lived to a green old age. His chief work is one " On
Grace and Predestination." It enters very fully into the
question, both in a historical aspect, and in discussing
the leading points which connect themselves to the main
branches of the entire argument. The origin of sin, the
extent of human freedom, the supremacy of the divine
decrees, are all handled much in the same fashion as
modern treatises on this long-contested and still yet un-
settled controversy. The treatise of this solitary still,
as far as we know, remains in manuscript in the library
of the Vatican at Borne.
St. Clement of Damascus is another ascetic writer of
note. He was born of noble parents, but the place of
his birth is unknown. He was educated at Alexandria,
and his first book was one " On Ehetoric." It follows
the common methods laid down in almost all the ancient
works on this branch of human knowledge. There is
little that can be considered original in it. There is a
copy of the work in manuscript in the Boyal Library at
Paris. Another treatise of his is known in Spain, called
"The Mysteries of Religion." It is divided into the
* Do Bury's " Histoire des Croisades," pp. 35 1-8. Paris.
HEEMIT LITEEATUEE. 105
following heads : "The Incarnation; the Birth of Christ;
his Circumcision ; the Adoration of the Magi ; the Pre-
sentation of our Lord in the Temple ; his Transfiguration ;
his Entry into Jerusalem ; his Passion ; his Resurrection ;
his Ascension ; the Feast of Pentecost ; the Sacrament ;
and the Mysteries of the Trinity." These separate
topics are all treated with considerable ability. "We
shall just give a single passage from the essay on the
Trinity, to show the manner in which this hermit treats
his subjects: "The express and pointed belief in the
mystery of the Trinity is one of those remarkable doc-
trines which separate the Christian system from Judaism
and Paganism. In believing in the unity of the divine
nature, we separate ourselves from the Gentile nations
who multiplied the divinity to infinity ; and in recognizing
the Trinity of its persons, we are distinguished from the
Jews, who were ignorant of this great doctrine. We
ought to believe what our Lord has invariably told us
respecting the Trinity ; we should receive it as authorized
by all the indubitable signs by which God gives validity
and power to his Word. This belief has been confirmed
by the universal consent of all the orthodox of the
Church since its foundation ; sustained by an innumerable
host of writers and martyrs, by victorious combats where
it has triumphed over the Arians, Manicheans, Sabellians,
Macedonians, and a multitude of other insignificant sects
of heretics."
St. Clement lived to the age of one hundred and six.
He dwelt in the wilderness, in a humble mud hut, for
seventy years. At his death, a small but choice library
of books was found in his rude dwelling, composed for the
106 OLD PACES I3T FEW MASKS.
most part of short treatises on the several doctrines of
religion.
Pelagius was a hermit of Syria, of great learning and
reputation in his day, and was born about the year 750.
He came into Spain, and held one of the public offices in
the government of this country till he was in the fifty-
third year of his age. He took a sudden resolve to go
into retirement, and sought out one of the most barren
and desolate places in the country, where he hewed out a
cave in a rock for his habitation. He lived to the age of
eighty-two. His literary remains are known under the
head of " Fragments," embracing his reflections on a
variety of subjects. There is a long essay on " Matters
Eclating to Knowledge in General, and on Eeasoning."
This is the longest dissertation in his work. He divides
the human mind into two principal departments : the
judgment, and the memory. The various kinds of know-
ledge he classifies under two divisions : vulgar or ordinary
knowledge, and abstract and philosophic knowledge.
The first is that which we wholly acquire by the bodily
senses, and is tlie foundation of all oilier Jenowledge ; for
we must know a thing is so and so, before we can offer a
reason for it. Philosophic knowledge does not depend so
exclusively on the senses, but derives much of its cha-
racter from right reason. But there are some parts of
learning which cannot be called philosophy, because the}'
do not depend upon right reason, as we commonly think
of it ; such as mathematical arts and theology, because the
latter is dependent on revelation.
Pelagius says : " The idea we have of immaterial
things conies from the inward man ; that is, by reflecting
1IEKMIT LITEEATUEE. 107
on what passes in the human mind. Hence some reasoners
are wrong in saying we have our ideas of spiritual things
from material things, as the passions of hope and fear,
joy, anger, etc. These never could be acquired from
the sole agency of material things. Thus, suppose a
man void of any of the passions, as for example, anger.
He could never form an idea of it from merely seeing a
man in a rage, with his countenance changed in a certain
manner, and his body under the influence of violent ges-
ticulation. That which would give him an idea of it is,
by reflecting on what passed in his own mind when
affected with this passion. Until he feel it himself he
can never have a just idea of it. After the mind is fur-
nished with a considerable number of ideas, the first
thing it does is to compare them with one another, and
to see the differences and inequalities among them."
The modern metaphysician will readily see that there
are some principles enunciated in those statements which
have long been, and still are, topics of eager discussion
in most of the philosophical schools of Europe. It is
somewhat remarkable that Pelagius should have clearly
perceived that mathematical evidence was a thing per se,
and did not come within the same sphere of proof or
illustration as other branches of knowledge. He does not,
however, prosecute this inquiry, but simply contents himself
with a statement of the broad principle of distinction.
He has a long dissertation, in this book of " Frag-
ments," on the mode of investigating truth, and com-
municating it to others. The human understanding he
divides into the judgment and the will. There are certain
leading ideas in the mind, which Pelagius conceives, with
108 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Plato, were stamped or imprinted on the mind of man
from its formation by the divine hand. Judgment is the
comparing two ideas with each other ; and then there are
subordinary powers, as Compounding, Discerning, Recall*
ing, and Retaining. Altogether, this work is a very
curious specimen of philosophizing ; and did our limits
permit, we could readily point out in it the germs of
many famous topics of discussion, which made a con-
spicuous figure in the subsequent ages of scholastic
learning and disputation.
There is another small treatise by this hermit, en-
titled, " On the Thinking Principle of Animals." We
shall just give two short paragraphs from it :
"There were two philosophers who made no small
noise in Arabia, about fifty years ago, who maintained
that animals were susceptible of sensations from external
objects, and, consequently, that they had a sensitive soul,
but were deprived of a perceptive one, whereby they
were prevented from reflecting upon their own inward sen-
sations, and from comparing two or more ideas together.
" I have often perused with pleasure and amusement
the treatise on this subject composed by the good Bishop
JSTemesius of Emesa, who was a decided advocate for
giving certain animals credit for a great share of artifice
and prudent calculation. He cited a variety of instances,
which had come under his own personal observation,
wherein great wisdom and forethought were manifested
in the animal nature. But it must be allowed on all
hands, that there is something pre-eminent about man
over all classes of the living creation."*
* " Traite de SS. Pe*res dss Deserts," vol. i. Geneva, 1632.
HERMIT LITERATURE. 109
St. Ammon of Arabia was a Christian hermit, who
was originally a man of rank and wealth, and who tra-
velled in the latter part of the eighth century through
France, Spain, and Italy. At the age of forty-eight, he
"betook himself to a solitary part of Arabia Felix, where
he built himself a hut, and observed the most austere
rules of discipline. He was often visited by groups of
Christian pilgrims, who were delighted with the courte-
ousness of his demeanour, and the erudition of his
conversation. He has left a biographical sketch of his
life and travels, from which it appears that he had been
led to dip into the writings of Celsus and Porphyry, and
that the orthodoxy of his creed had been considerably
damaged by this step. He describes the progress of his
own doubts with great feeling ; but he seems to have
come out of this contest unscathed and harmless. His
declarations on this point are, however, very curious.
He says, "No one can more firmly believe in all the
doctrines and mysteries of the Church than I do at the
present moment ; but then it is a belief bolstered up and
supported by an immense framework of discussion and
argumentation. It does not sit easily on my mind, like
unto my former and first belief. I live, as it were, like a
soldier in a foreign and hostile land, where I have always
to be prepared for conflicts, and can never anticipate
from what quarter opposition may spring. I am like a
monarch, surrounded on all sides with insidious foes, and
having an extended territorial line to defend."
This solitary is chiefly known for a poem on the
" Burning of the Alexandrian Library." There are
translations of it in Spanish. It commences by de-
110 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
scribing the death-like stillness which prevailed ere the
fire was discovered; its progress from one part of the
building to another, and the general consternation which
seized all classes of the people of Alexandria, when they
saw that the entire stock of books and manuscripts was
doomed to be for ever lost. "Wo shall make an effort to
give the sense of the author, in two or three quotations
from this singular production :
Alas! -what mental treasures perish' d there,
And shone their last in that destroying glare !
Beneath yon ashes Philo's laurels lie,
And works immortal deem'd for ever die.
The surging waves of that remorseless fire,
Pile o'er man's noblest toils their funeral pyre.
From hall to hall the insatiate fury flies,
Now climbs the roof, and now the walls defies ;
Runs up the battlements of yon tall tower ;
And flouts the trophies of Egyptian power ;
Darts in fierce triumph on each temple's pride,
And showers with mad delight perdition wide j
Flares in grim rapture o'er the sacred dome,
Where mild-eyed science built her favourite home ;
And on those groves its direst vengeance flung,
Where sages mused and long-lost poets sung.
Ill another paragraph of the poem, the fancy of the
writer carries him back to the many distinguished men
who had obtained their education at this university, and
had consulted the literary treasures the library con-
tained, and which were now consumed by the devouring
elements :
Oh ! sacred pile ! oh philosophic porch !
Where ancient learning burnt her steadiest torch,
Here did the Christian Church her children rear,
And train'd their spirits for their work of fear,
HEEMIT LITERATURE. Ill
And wisely taught her sous the sword to wield,
Which human wisdom to their grasp must yield.
Here did the martyr Justin yearn in youth
To drink deep draughts from streams of holiest truth.
Here did the bright-soul'd Origen assay
His mental weapons for a sterner day.
The bold Tertullian, he of soul sublime,
Fierce as his race, and fiery as his clime,
Here steep'd his boyish heart in musings sweet,
And felt the influence of the Paraclete ;
Began his high career of fame and pride,
And bound his spirit to the crucified.
Here, too, the faith unfurl'd its standard high,
Against the banded ranks of heresy ;
Here Athanasius did the Church reform,
And stem the torrent wide of Arian storm.
*******
At length 'tis done. The dying embers red
On many a rood of smoking ruin spread ;
But choked and dimm'd beneath these ruins lie
Old Egypt's learning, wisdom, mystery.
There lie the fragments of her noblest fame
There lie the ashes of her ancient name ;
Quench'd in that fell volcano's smothering shower,
There lies her wealth there lies her pride her power.
The last lines of the poetic effusion are of a denun-
ciatory and prophetic character :
Oh ! dire fanatic ! if thy impious hand
Hurl'd, amidst these sacred fanes, the accursed brand ;
If from thy lips the reckless mandate came
That wrapt these temples in'a sea of flame ;
If from some wild desire the faith to drown
Of HIM whose hand must strike the crescent down,
Thou wrought'st this hideous deed, then well repaid
The sacrilegious scheme thy malice laid.
112 OLD FACES TN NEW MASKS.
Behold the Moslem, sunk and trampled now,
The wreath of conquest torn from off his brow ;
His fame, his wealth, his influence waning fast,
And all but baffled pride for ever past ;
Whilst his high Sultan, famed Byzantium's lord,
Quails 'neath the frown of some barbarian horde !
And thou, too, Omar, mark thy destiny !
Yon stern avenger will not let thee die ;
But stamps on Time's broad page thine odious name,
And bids thee live embalrn'd in lasting shame !*
"We must now hasten to a close. We have given this
very short sketch of the Literature of the early Christian
Hermits of the East for two reasons. Pirst, the subject
is new, in this country at least. There have been scat-
tered notices on the matter in a few foreign publications,
but no regular dissertations that have come under our
observation. Secondly, we are convinced that historians
and ecclesiastical writers will find many valuable and
curious materials in this hitherto partially worked quarry
of ancient thought and contemplation. "We have our-
selves only ventured a little within the threshold of this
sanctuary ; but we have seen enough to assure us that
much is hidden which would well repay the labour and
toil of exhumation.
* " Los Pedros del Dcsierto," vol ii., Art. Pelagius. Madrid.
SYMBOLICAL KEPKE SEDATION OF FISH. 113
NOTES OF AN ANTIQUARY ON THE SYMBO-
LICAL REPRESENTATION OF PISH.
ANTIQUARIES make the fish the symbol of Jesus Christ.
A fish is sculptured on a number of Christian monu-
ments, and more particularly on the ancient sarcophagi.
It is either single, or attended by other attributes, and
is placed beneath funeral inscriptions. It is seen like-
wise upon medals bearing the effigy of our Saviour, and
upon engraved stones and intaglios. The fish is also to
be remarked upon the amulets worn suspended from the
necks of children, and upon ancient glasses and sepul-
chral lamps. Montfau9on mentions a mosaic in the
cathedral of Ravenna, in which the fish is introduced as
symbolic of Christians. M. le Marquis Eortia d' Urban
is in possession of a white chalcedon, on the base of the
cone of which there is a figure of our Saviour, with the
name XPICTOY, and the image of a fish. This belongs
to the period of Alexander Severus.* There are likewise
eight Christian monuments mentioned by M. de Belloc,
on which fish are depicted ; two cornelians, two engraved
stones used as seals, one gold ring, an amethyst, and a
sardonyx. Besides these he has given us a sepulchral
lamp, representing fishes, dolphins, and a man fishing
with a line.t
* Kochette, " Types de Christianisme," p. 21.
t " La Vierge au Poisson de Raphael." Lyon, 1833.
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
A sketch of the Good Shepherd, taken from the
monuments of the catacombs, contains seven fishes
ranged in a circle. The fish and the Greek cross are
also seen filling up branches of foliage, painted on the
walls of a Christian "hypogee" (subterranean tomb or
crypt), situated near Aphrodisias in Africa.*
Baptismal fonts are more particularly ornamented
with fish. Thus at Gemona in Prioul, and Pirano in
Istria, are two large baptismal urns, bearing fish.f
In a village church near Beigetad, in Denmark,
around a baptistery, are three fishes, intertwined in
the form of a triangle. Trance contains many similar
examples. The fish is distinctly depicted on the bap-
tismal font at Boulogne-sur-Mer ; and so, likewise, on
that of St. Jacques at Compiegne. In Saint Germain-
des-Pres, at the entrance where the baptismal font is
placed, a male and female siren are seen, with fishes in
their arms, while other fish play beneath the waters
which undulate around those fantastic personages. Pishes
are likewise seen in other parts of Prench churches
besides the baptisteries. In the nave of Sfc. Caprais-
d'Agen, three fishes are represented. A fish is also
sculptured on a statue in the cemetery of St. Jean,
department of la Nievre. J
In painted or sculptured monuments, representing
the Lord's Supper, the fish figures among the meats. On
the gates of the parish church of Nantua, the second
apostle, standing on the left-hand of Christ, carries a
fish, accurately defined. In manuscripts with miniatures,
* " Voyage dans la Marmorique et la Cyrenaique." f Belloc.
I "Bulletin des Arts," etc., 1840 41.
SYMBOLICAL REPRESENTATION OP FISH. 115
on painted glass and enamels of the thirteenth and four-
teenth centuries, the fish is constantly exhibited, placed
upon a dish in the middle of the sacramental table.*
Before the time of Constantine, the texts name the
IX0Y3, which remained unchanged during the whole
period of persecution. It was considered a literary
metaphor or Christian token. St. Clement of Alex-
andria says : " Let the dove and the fish remain as signs
unto you." Tertullian adds: "We are like fishes in
Christ, our great Fish ; for we are born in water, and
can only be saved by continuing therein." There was a
mysterious import connected with this sign. About the
middle of the fourth century, Optatus, Bishop of Milesia,
in Africa, declared that " the single name of fish, accord-
ing to the Greek denomination, contained in the letters
composing it, a host of sacred names ; IX0Y3 gives in
the Latin, Jesus Christ, the Son of Grod, the Saviour."f
In fact, by taking each letter of IX0Y2, for the initial of
a Greek word, we make "I^o-ovs Xpioros eo9 Ytos 2W>7p."
From this time forward, oriental subtilty, always pre-
pared for a jeu-de-mots of that description, repeated
almost to satiety, religious similitudes from waves and
navigation, from the seas and their inhabitants. Funeral
inscriptions were preceded and accompanied by the
TX0YS. Our Saviour was not only compared to the
fish, which gives itself to be eaten, but also to the fisher-
man by whom the fish is taken, even as Christ takes souls
in the net of love.
Thus Julius Africanus calls Jesus Christ the great
fish taken by the fish-hook of Grod, and whose flesh
* Latin MSS. Biblioth. Koyale. f Opera.
116 OLD PACES Itf NEW MASKS.
nourishes the whole universe. St. Prosper of Aquitaine
says : "The Saviour, the Son of G-od, is a fish prepared in
his passion, and by the entrails we are constantly and
daily nourished and enlightened." St. Augustine ex-
claims, " IX0Y2 is the mystical name of Christ, because
he descended alive into the depths of this mortal life,
as into the abyss of waters." Again he says : " Christ i&
the fish which young Tobias took living from the stream,
whose heart (liver), consumed by passion, put the
demon to flight, and restored sight to the blind." The
name of "piscina" given to the baptismal font, of which
the water, the atmosphere of fishes, purifies us from all
sin, and becomes the means of salvation, is derived from
the fish, symbolizing Him by whom we are nourished,
healed, and redeemed.*
On the other hand, Jesus was called " fisher of men,"
as he had himself given a similar appellation to St.
Peter. St. Gregory of Nazianzen says that Jesus, the
fisherman, descended into the stormy abyss of this world
in order to draw men from it like fishes, and carry them
up into heaven. M. Robert informs us that on one of the
sarcophagi in the Vatican, described by Bottari, Jesus is
represented standing on the shore, a line in his hand,
and a crowd of little aquatic beings nibbling at the
bait. An engraving taken from a cornelian, and pub-
lished by the Abbe Vallarsi, at Verona, represents a
young fisherman, holding a little fish on his hook ;
against the fish is the word IX0Y2. But the most
complete existing monument of this description, is fur-
nished by a miniature in the manuscript of Herrade.
* "Optatus Epis., Milevitnnus."
SYMBOLICAL RE PEE SENT ATI ON OF FISH. 117
God the Father is there represented holding in his hand
a line, which he casts into the abyss of ocean. The line
itself is formed of the busts of patriarchs, prophets, and
kings, enchained the one .with the other, from Adam,
who is nearest God, down to David, who is next to the
hook; the bait, in fact, is no other than Jesus the
Saviour, attached to the cross.*
Jesus descends into the abyss, seeking Leviathan,
who bites the cross, by which he is to perish, while
Christians cling to it as the means of their salvation.
The imagination of artists and poets, sculptors and
Fathers of the Church, painters and preachers, have
never ceased to draw from this theme thousands of
comparisons, metaphors, and allegories. To the Fathers
already mentioned we may add St. Jerome, Origen, Bede,
St. Ambrose, St. Eucharius, and others besides, all of
whom have made many direct allusions to fish and
fishers.
Fish are represented in Greek mosaics, and in fres-
coes, swimming in the open sea, and which are to come
at the Last Judgment, to restore the human limbs they
have devoured. One brings an arm, another a leg ; this
dolphin a man's head, that whale a woman's bust.f
Fishes are likewise depicted gliding in the waters of
Jordan at the moment of our Saviour's baptism. They
are represented in the Eed Sea, when the Hebrews passed
through it.
* "Universite Catholique," vol 6.
f This singular and highly animated subject is represented in
paintings where the Last Judgment is somewhat minutely detailed.
It is particularly complete at Salamis, and the monastery of Yato-
pedi on Mount Athos. Manuscript of Herrade.
118 OLD FACES IX 3TEW MASKS.
A funeral urn, in ]S"otre Dame de Grotta-Feratta,
has a representation of two young boys, both naked, and
sitting upon rocks, from the top of which they are
fishing with a line. Each has caught a little fish. Below
in the sea, are large fishes, swimming, and other fishes
adorn the cover of the urn. This urn is engraved in
Montfaut9on's work. A crystal urn, in the form of a
fish, was found near Tongres in 1698 ; it bears the
following inscription : Politicus Albince KarissiarKB suce.
Bosio gives an engraving of an ancient Christian sarco-
phagus, on which a man fishing with a rod and line
is represented. Belloc gives a representation of an
engraved cornelian upon which is a fisherman holding a
basket in one hand, and in the other a line, from which
a little fish is suspended; the word IX0Y2J is written
near the fish.*
* "Rom. Sottere."
PATEESON'S MAEE. 119
JOHN PATERSON'S MAEE.
ANNALS OF SPOETING : BEING A FAITHFUL PICTTJEE OF
SOME OF THE LEADING INCIDENTS CONNECTED WITH
PERIODICAL LITEEATUEE IN GEEAT BEITAIN IN THE
EAELY POETION OF THE PEESENT CENTUET.
" John Paterson's mare,
She canna be here,
"We neither ha'e stable nor hay for her ;
Whip her out ! turn her out !
Sax shillings in a clout !
O'er the kirk- stile and away wi' her !"
OLD SONG.
THIS is a very old song and tune, and alike well known
in both Scotland and England : in the latter it is entitled
the " Horseman's Sport. The circumstances that gave
rise to it are minutely described by Anthony Hoole in
his History of the North Biding of Yorkshire, and are
so comic and whimsical, that I have been induced to take
down the substance of them in a language somewhat in-
telligible to modern readers, with as few encroachments
as possible on the simple original.
The dale of Dunabbey was, it seems, Mr. Hoole's
native place, and he delights to dwell on the transactions
of that, even to its most trivial concerns. It was, he
says, " the most fertile, thriving, and happy vale, of all
120 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
that large division of the country, until rent and dis-
turbed by the jealousies and quarrels of some of its in-
habitants ; and after anger and heart-burnings about such
a matter as that which followeth, who shall say unto him-
self I shall have peace ? Yerily strife may be said to
arise out of the ground, or to be drawn in by the nostrils
of men, as they inhale the air that is mixed with fire."
It appears, from Hoole's narrative, that the principal
or head tenant of this vale was one John Paterson, who
had for a long period of years maintained his superiority,
and even at the time that Hoole wrote, was still con-
triving to bear up a considerable importance, though
rather with a struggle, and not at all with the same good
grace as in former days. John came to that valley from
the north, a young adventurer, without either money or
credit, but determined to push his way right or wrong ;
to such a man it is not every trifle that will be a bar.
He found means to connect himself by marriage to a
respectable old farmer, who being a kind and a good man,
wisely judged that it was better for him to support and
countenance the young hero than to do the contrary, and
from that time forward John throve and flourished every
day. He took a farm of his own, and succeeded to an
amazing degree; for speculation that ruins many a
farmer, with him seldom ever misgave. He grew very
rich, and exceeding fat ; yea, so plump and sleek did he
become in appearance, that he was nicknamed "the
Bishop ;" for, what is very uncommon with us, Mr. Hoole
assures us that every individual of that district, man and
woman, has some by-name.
Notwithstanding John's origin, he had the manners of
JOHN" PATERSON'S MAKE. 121
a gentleman. His address was good, plausible, and obse-
quious to his superiors ; but to those that were below
him, supercilious and intolerant in no ordinary degree.
He lent small sums of money to all his neighbour farmers,
gave them good dinners occasionally, and kept open house
on Sundays, by which means he kept them entirely at
his steps ; they cajoled and commended him, and bore all
the caprices of his temper without repining, and things
went on very well.
Among the rest there was one of whom he made a
mere footstool, or rather a scraper for his shoes. He
occupied a mill and a small farm on the other side of the
water, immediately opposite to Bishop Paterson's door,
and as he behoved of course to have some by-name like
the rest, they denominated him Sleek Cobby, that being
a familiar appellation for Colbert, which was his true
Christian name. Hoole thinks that the reason why they
gave him that title, was because of his soft luxuriant
appearance, for he was fully as fat and sleek as John
himself, and so like were they one another, that strangers
mistook them often for brothers.
He fell greatly short of the Bishop, however, in
shrewdness, for he was lazy and inactive, and except it
were selling meal and bran by the peck, he could never
be induced to transact any business unless the Bishop
urged him to it, or managed it for him. His chief delight
was in flirting with the girls that came about the mill to
sift the flour, or purchase small morsels of meal and
barley ; and it was insinuated through all the parish that
many of them made errands there for mere shams and
trifles, pretending to look at his samples, perhaps, or
122 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
learn the news about the markets, but really on purpose
to get a gallant with the amorous miller. " He fawned
and fiddled about them," says Anthony Hoole, with the
greatest simplicity, " as turtle doves do with their mates
and associates, and although he did teaze many of them
not a little, yet were they patient, as they knew there was
not any danger abiding in the man."
It appeareth, also, from Hoole's narrative, that Cobby
was accustomed to go to every house in the parish at
which a dinner was provided, where he ate well of the
best things at table, and drank incredible quantities of
the farmers' October beer. After which, as the only
return in his power, he sang them fine songs until he
sometimes put them all into a delicious sleep ; for Cobby
did not keep any house of his own that anybody knew of,
it being supposed that he slept in some wretched hovel
in the village behind the mill.
A mill conducted in this way, it may well be sup-
posed, could not be very lucrative. Of course, when the
rent day came, our gay and careless miller had often to
apply to his neighbour the Bishop, in order to enable him
to meet my lord's steward properly provided. John did
not fail to tell him to his face, how soulless and insignifi-
cant a being he deemed him, yet seldom or never sent
him away without his errand. And, besides, John was
often obliged to Cobby ; for whenever the farmer had
company whom he wished to amuse, he sent for the
miller, who came joyfully and sang songs to them, and
helped them out with their beer. Indeed, it was thought
that if he had been disinclined to come, which he was
not, he durst not have refused. This man, with many
JOHN PATEESON'S MAEE. 123
other farmers of still a meaner cast, being so en-
tirely in John's power, led to the disagreeable cir-
cumstances formerly alluded to, which shall be explained
anon.
John kept two riding horses, a stout half-bred pony,
and an excellent blood mare.* "Where is the man that
ever ventured a guinea on the turf who has not heard
tell of John Paterson's mare ?
The pony was managed, kept, and ridden by one
Murphy, an Irishman ; but the groom and rider of the
bred mare was the celebrated jockey Nardi, an Italian
originally, as was supposed, and a perfect devil incarnate
for frolic and mischief. He was nicknamed Beau JSTardif
by the maids in Dunabbey, by which name he was after-
wards generally known on all the race grounds in Britain.
He was the most expert groom that ever was known, and
was judged superior even to the celebrated Sam, who per-
formed such wonders on the beast Savage. Sam had,
perhaps, more science in horsemanship, at least Hoole
thinks so, but he was not half so expert and amusing in
his feats as Beau JSTardi. It was by his advice that John
purchased the blue mare when she was a foal, when he
engaged at the same time to break her thoroughly, to
feed, manage, and ride her, as long as she remained on
the turf. He entered, also, into an engagement with
five different purveyors, to provide him with various kinds
of food ; a smith, a harness-maker, and several under-
strappers ;{ but the chief of them all were Prank the
tinker, Blind Jock, and Whistling Harry, and each of
* " Constable's Magazine and Edinburgh Eeview." f Jeffrey.
J Francis Horner, Lord Brougham, etc.
124 OLD FACES Itf NEW MASKS.
these was bound to give her an airing whenever Beau
JSTardi listed. No sooner had he and John Paterson's
mare appeared on the turf than they carried all before
them, and won immense quantities of plate to the Bishop,
of which the groom was a sharer to a considerable
amount. He suffered her only to run four courses in
the year ; and, if the stakes did not run very high, no
more than three. Yet the amusement that was afforded
to the thousands that assembled to see her was incal-
culable, for it was not only the race that delighted them,
but the feats and frolics of Beau ]S"ardi, and she, as
cantering jocundly about the race ground. It was for
these mischievous feats that the two became so famous,
as the like of them had never before been attempted by
any jockey under the sun; and if all .be true that
Anthony Hoole relates of them, it is a wonder how the
country suffered them so long.
It would be endless to recount all that Hoole men-
tions of these freaks, for he enumerates upwards of a
thousand ; a great number of which resemble one another
so much, as to take away from the variety that one
expects in a detail of comic exploits. I shall only men-
tion a few of which he says he was an eye witness. But
before proceeding to these, it may be necessary to state,
that this Nardi was at bottom said to be a real good-
natured honest fellow ; and, what can seldom be said of
such as belong to that class, he was strictly virtuous ; so
much so that his probity was never called in question,
nor durst any man offer him a bribe for fear of being
exposed. He had, however, some strange whimsies and
peculiarities of temper, for which it was not easy to
JOHN PATEKSON'S MAKE. 125
account in one like him. Eor instance, he hated all pre-
tensions to greatness, and every kind of superiority as-
sumed by one man, or class of men over others, which is
a thing as natural as that pounds should stand before
shillings and pence. Yet all the while there was not a
more assuming man on earth than he. JSTo matter for
that'; whenever our Beau beheld any such grouping
together, or overheard any of their assumptive chat
down he came on them with his mare like a fiery dragon,
riding over some of them, and scattering others, who
were glad to shift for themselves, to the great amusement
of the mob. Even the king and some of his sons, he
says, have been known to make all the unwieldy haste
that they could out of his way, and though solely be-
spattered with mud from the hoofs of the fierce animal,
held their peace, and made no observations on the circum-
stance, for fear of getting worse treatment next time.
There was one day, says Anthony Hoole, that I saw
him ride over the top of a Scotch baronet, whom he
wounded so sore and so grievously that some of his
friends were obliged to carry him home in a blanket. At
another time, perceiving some Irish lawyers, who were
making a great blustering and noise with their betting on
the course, and suspecting that there was great deficiency
of the requisite sterling material with them, he rode
them down at once, and left them howling and complain-
ing most bitterly, without ever deigning to look over his
shoulder. One market day, likewise, on going down to
the village, he perceived a very interesting Scotch girl,*
who, having raised a simple platform in a corner of the
* Miss Johanna Baillie.
126 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
street, was essaying by gestures to exhibit some of the
violent passions by which men are at times agitated.
Beau Nardi took some prejudice at her, nobody knew for
what, for the girl was perfectly modest and unassuming.
Eut whenever he came within view of her, aud saw the
crowds of admirers that were standing around witnessing
her representations, he put the spurs to his mare, and set
off at a light canter. "When the people looked around
and saw that it was John Paterson's mare that was coming
on them they betook them to their heels, some one way
and some another, and not a man of them stood forward
to protect the girl, save one gray-headed Scotsman, whom
nobody knew. His resolution proved of no avail, for
onward came jSTardi at full drive, made a dash at the
maid, and at once overthrew all her simple machinery.
He did not absolutely ride her down, but he chased her
from her platform, and bespattered all her fine Paisley
gown that had cost her so much pains to weave and
decorate. This was, perhaps, the most ungallant thing
that ever our notable jockey did, if not, indeed, the only
one ; nor is it easy to guess what it was that could move
him to a proceeding so harsh and unmerited. Mr. Hoole
has some hesitation in believing it, but it is nevertheless
a fact, that the girl broadly hinted that, some days pre-
vious to that, our Beau wanted to kiss her, which she
positively declined. No one could blame the girl for this
Nardi could not in his own heart do so therefore it
was exceedingly wrong in him to take so public a revenge
for a private affront. The girl took it exceedingly to
heart, and thenceforward discontinued her little antic
feats, losing all the fruits of her ingenious contrivance.
127
But the best sport of all happened at the races of
Coventry.* The crowds that were assembled there that
day were prodigious ; and Beau Nardi, on going his accus-
tomed rounds, perceived a little debauched fellow, com-
monly known in those parts by the name of Tickle
Tommy, singing very unsuitable songs to an immense
number of rosy unthinking damsels. JSTardi, as I said,
was a strictly moral man himself, and though he had
very little religion, yet he abhorred to see any breach of
decorum or good principles ; so when he beheld the seduc-
tive gestures, and heard the corresponding words of this
minstrel, he was moved with indignation, and riding at him
with all his fury, he scattered the crowd of wenches, over-
turned some of them, and not only rode fairly over
Tickle Tommy, but made his beast splash and curvette
around him, till he was all over bedaubed with mud, so
that when he arose, Hoole says, he had much of the
outward appearance of a swallow's nest. The women
screamed ; and grieved at the fate of their inamorato,
some of them began to throw stones at our hero. But it
is well known how awkwardly a woman throws a stone,
for she never once in a thousand times hits, or, indeed,
flings it towards the object intended ; so that the Beau
escaped uninjured, being so well mounted that he only
laughed at the feeble effects of their malice. Tommy,
however, considering himself insulted, and being proud-
spirited and vindictive, he went out and watched an
opportunity in the fields, till he found his antagonist
one day without his mare, and coming up to him with a
musket on each shoulder, double charged with powder
* Thos. Moore. " The Duel," etc.
128 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
and lead, he asked him sternly if he was the fellow that
rode him down at Coventry races ? The other boldly
acknowledged that he was, and that he thought the
punishment well bestowed. " "Well," says Tommy, " that
is all I want here is for you, then : you shall either
choose one of these muskets, which are both double-
loaded with powder and ball, mark you, and fight me
fairly; otherwise, I will shoot you dead on the spot
where you stand." Nardi was rather taken by surprise,
but was determined not to be behindhand with his im-
pertinent antagonist ; so looking shortly around, as if to
consider of the hasty proposal, he espied an old elm-tree
within a few yards of him ; and that instant, snatching
the gun that was on the shoulder next him, in a moment
he was in behind the elm-tree, from whence he levelled
the musket directly at his antagonist's head. The situa-
tion of the latter was now dangerous in the extreme,
and if he had not been particularly alert, it is almost a
hundred to one that all had been over with him. But, as
luck would have it, there was an old ruinous stone fence
a few yards only to the rearward, beyond which he
jumped, threw off his hat, and there took safe and
deliberate aim at his adversary. In this way were they
found by the parish constables, who had been previously
warned of what was going on, firing away at each other
as men fire at a mark. These two, as often happens in
similar cases, became very good friends afterwards, and
Tommy was known sometimes to furnish the groom
with a bushel or two of oats (Winchester measure) at a
very reasonable rate; and even sometimes to give the
mare an airing, which he did very foolishly, and with a
129
levity that Nardi himself would have blushed to have
practised.
Hoole says that, another day, he saw him on the race
ground at Old Sarum, riding carelessly over the course,
and chatting with his friend the celebrated Tinker, when
they beheld in an adjoining tent, a great number of jolly
fellows regaling themselves on roast beef, mutton, and
turkey, while in the midst of them sat a miserable look-
ing figure, feeding by himself on a few potatoes and rice
pudding. He had an ominous length of nose on his face,
blear eyes, and a countenance of much self-conceit.
Still, as he fed, he kept contending with the rest, who,
though they paid more regard to what was before them
than to his words, yet he bothered them not a little with
the healthfulness of the vegetable diet of which he par-
took, execrating the while the beastly practice of devour-
ing animal food. " Dost thou observe," said the pugilistic
tinker, "what is going on in that quarter?" "Yes, I
do," returned Nardi ; " and what right in the name of
common sense, has a fellow like that to stake his shallow
wit and lean experience against those of ages, and the
approven diet of a whole enlightened realm ? " So
saying, he clapped his steel rowels in the sides of his
mare, and in a moment all the benches were overturned,
and the potatoe philosopher trodden under foot. The
jolly epicures set up a horse-laugh, for which their
hearts afterwards smote them, for the poor vegetable
philosopher, who was likewise it appeared a ballad-
monger, never more arose, but expired on the spot.
^ardi was seized, and examined before the stewards and
a respectable jury, and it was proven that the beast ran
K
130 OLD PACES IN *~EW MASKS.
away with him, a thing exactly the reverse of truth, so
the jury, after deliberating fourteen hours and some odd
minutes, returned a verdict of " died by accident."
Hoole likewise mentions a noble lord,* who was a
minor, that was once ridden down on the race course at
Nottingham, who, notwithstanding, arose, challenged the
jockey, and boxed him for the space of two hours over a
string. But, unfortunately, the amateurs in the pugilistic
art declared with one assent that his lordship fought
unfair, and took several undue advantages quite unbe-
coming a gentleman. He forced JS~ardi, however, to
confess that there was much more mettle in the strip-
ling than he had at first calculated on. There was
another very cruel thing that our hero was guilty of, at
least it gave great offence to a number of nervous people
and children. On his way to some of the races in the
"West of England, he rode over and destroyed a whole
covey of sandpipers,t or water larks, as they are called
in that country, which are well known for very innocent
creatures. They are, to be sure, a little intrusive, noisy,
and abominably aifected ; always putting themselves
forward on the shore of every lake or water where the
sportsman sojourns, harping and babbling as if no other
creatures in the world were worthy of being taken notice
of but they alone. Our groom silenced that nest with-
out remorse, although they raised a most lamentable
outcry ; many people deemed the act rather cruel and
unfair, and the song was at that time in every boy's
mouth of that country, " John Paterson's mare, she
canna be here," etc.
* Lord Byron. f Lake poets, etc.
JOHN PATERSON'S MAEE. 131
Besides Nardi himself, the groom that' rode the mare
next best was his friend Frank, the tinker, who was like-
wise one of his purveyors, and furnished the most equal
sterling food of any other ; but going one summer down
to the side of an inlet of the sea, somewhere about the
South Biding, for the benefit of his health, he was there
taken ill, and died, sorely regretted by all the gipsy
tribe, as well as his sporting friends, for he was a mail
whose equal is not often to be met with. It was a great
loss to Beau Nardi, and a greater one to John Paterson's
mare herself, who fell away in condition every day after
that. The farrier, too, that had the charge of shoeing
her, was found out not to be sound, for he had pricked
her best fore-foot, and it was found necessary to repre-
hend him. Blind Jock rode her well, and always
steadily, but won little plate. Jock the slorp had
too many capers ; and as for Whistling Harry, he rode
like a fool, for he rode always against one company only,
never minding any other that were booked, if he could
beat them. To accomplish this he generally set off at
full speed at first, and by that means put the animal out
of breath before half the course was finished, so that
small credit was ever gained to the company by his efforts.
The failures of so many capital hands induced our hero
to apply to one Will Hazelpipes,* but he proved the
worst of all, and took bribes at the very first, giving the
noble animal anything but fair play, a thing quite un-
known with that company.
After many years of unexampled success, there was a
farmer in the county of Surrey, called Prester John, who
* Hazlitt.
132 0I> FACES IIS" NEW MASKS.
took it into his head to breed a young mare of his own,
which he at once pitted against that of Bishop Paterson,
This mare's name was Quadruple,* and her groom and
rider was called Burly "Will, from what circumstance Mr.
Hoole did not know ; for, as I said before, every person
in that country has some by-name ; if they but hear of a
man, they give him a name according with the idea they
have of him, without seeing him. For a number of years,
this mare had no chance with the Bishop's ; but the
owner was a persevering, dogged, and stubborn jockey,
and, disdaining to yield, he not only started against the
other every heat, but ventured specie to a great amount
on his mare's head. In this he was well supported by his
groom, who was a perfect bear for stubbornness, a man
full of prejudice, but, notwithstanding, an able horse-
man. Quadruple came harder upon each other every
time they started won two heats by half a neck ;
and there were several times that the best judges could
not determine which of them had the superiority. It
was always noted that on a heavy course, John Pater-
son's mare had the advantage, but on a light easy race
ground the other excelled. At length there was a fair
trial took place at the great northern meeting, on the
lands of Culloden, near Inverness, in which Quadruple
had so decidedly the advantage, that ever since the bet-
ting has been as two to one and a-half on her head, and
the value of the plate won for the last three seasons has
preponderated in Prester John's favour. The people are
beginning to say, although it may probably be only con-
jecture, that both the one and the other make but very
* " Quarterly Review." William Gifforc 1 .
JOHN PATERSCXN'S MAKE. 133
poor speed, and that if some of the new upstart fillies
would take the field against them, the old standard racers
would to a certainty be distanced.
But there is one thing altogether an anomaly in the
annals of the turf, which the people of the North Eiding
still persevere in. It is in their mode of decision
between the gainers and losers. The race is not always
to the swift there it would seem, for Anthony Hoole
declares that he hath himself seen a horse win the
course by a length and a-half, and yet the decision of the
judges go against him. Men are not suffered to trust
any of their own senses on such occasions, the whole
matter being managed by a secret tribunal, the members
of which are all swayed by private influences. And it is
a, curious fact that, though these influences are founded
on a principle of injustice towards individuals, they are
rarely complained of, being swayed by a more general,
and probably even a more generous motive, namely, the
.desire of bestowing the prizes where most is at stake.
Ee this as it will, it is certain that during all this
time, Bishop Paterson was so much interested in the suc-
cess of his mare, that his half-bred pony scarcely claimed
any part of his regard. It became, of course, a rough
slovenly beast, a mere jog-trot sort of animal, that did
not pay for its keep, and consequently it got no sort of
provender, save what it picked up about the wayside, on
common lonings, or pilfered from the fields and stores of
other people. There being, however, no beast bred to
the turf, of the same size and dimensions as the pony in
that district, it appeared at all the little field-sports
where it was commonly booked by itself, no other appear-
134 OLD FACES IX ]S~EW MASKS.
ing against it. The Bishop took good care of that ; his
influence in the Biding being sufficient to check any
competitor, and the pony for many years kept cantering
and hobbling over the course itself, interesting few, and
amusing still fewer, carrying away from the field gene-
rally such trivial prizes as were to be gained incontested.
The name of this pony was Meg, and she was ridden
many years by the same groom, a man of a modest and
unassuming mien, well known on all fields of little by-
sports. He had carried weight on the barren sands of
Pedia and Gaza, Niggerfield and Mimflam. He was sup-
posed to have been an Irishman by birth, his name being
Murphy ; and Meg had carried him so long, and trotted
so roughly, that she made his teeth chack in his head.
This state of affairs at length provoked a farmer of
the name of Oakstick,*- in the same district, to breed a
Gralloway of his own, for the purpose, as he pretended, of
affording him some recreation, but, in fact, for the sole
one of disputing the races throughout the North Biding
with honest Murphy and his mare Meg. He pondered
on this scheme for many days, till at length he was ac-
costed by Mephibosheth, a young Jew of the tribe of
Benjamin, who represented to him in magnificent terms
the great benefit that would accrue to him by the pos-
session of such a beast ; and the Jew being a specious
youth, possessing suavity of manners, and a portion of
the cunning of his people, he soon prevailed 011 Oakstick
to enter into a scheme, which had formerly been dis-
cussed, and finally agreed on by the brethren of the tribe
of Benjamin. The farmer was to give Mephibosheth a
* " Black wood's Magazine."
PATEKSON'S MARE. 135
sum of money, and the latter was to produce a mare of
a certain size, bay colour, and given proportions ; and this
inare he was to dress, curry-comb, air, and maintain,
solely at his own charges, in consideration of a stipulated
sum annually, and one-half of the plate that might,
would, or should be won, and as security he gave one
Jacob Unicorn, a man of his own tribe and his own
people. The beast was produced accordingly, and named
after her owner and the place where she was reared ;
Oakstick's Dunabbey was her name, but for shortness
she was generally called Blackie, and by the latter old-
fashioned name she was booked for the first time at Don-
caster races in the steward's list.
Bishop Paterson was somewhat surprised when he
first perceived the handbills that announced this new
competitor nailed up with pointy of horse nails, on the
smithy doors, and pasted with four wafers neatly up below
the signs of alehouses. But he was chagrined beyond
all forbearance when he heard fellows bawling out along
the race course an advertisement to the following
effect :
" This is a true and faithful account of the wonderful
descent, birth, parentage, progeny, and residue of the
matchless young mare, Oakstick's Dun; more better
known by the name of Blackie. "Which said wonderful
little young filly mare, or more properly mare filly, is
this day backed to beat the great John Paterson' s Mop-
ping Meg, for seven to one. And, moreover, this doth
farther show you, that - "
"Yes, I will show you that, you blaring scoundrel!"
said Bishop Paterson, knocking the fellow down with his
136 OLD FACES Itf NEW MASKS.
baton. " "Who desired you to bleat out such ragamuffin
stuff as that ? I'll break every bone in your body, you
dog, you whelp, you puppy, if you do not tell me who in-
dited these words."
" Oh, Grod bless your reverence ! It was I that en-
doited them words," said the fellow. " I say they are
the truth, and I sells them for the truth, and so good-bye
to your mastership. I say keep your thwomps to mearry
your doughters. I'll cry my peapers, and catch thou me
again if thou canst. This is a true and faithful ac-
count," etc.
The Bishop concealed his chagrin under a hearty
laugh; and as he had ordered Mopping Meg's groom
privily for some weeks prior to this to give the good old
pony an additional feed of substantial oats, he had hopes
that she might still outstrip Blackie. Murphy had but a
hard bargain, and could not well afford this, but he begged
and borrowed hard to fulfil his employer's orders, stretch-
ing a point to keep his place on the field, and in fact Meg
appeared on the ground in better condition than she had
been for many a day. She was, however, distanced both
heats with this new upstart filly, which made the Bishop
look exceedingly blank, and bred such a commotion in
the valley as never had been before known. The Bishop
had entertained hopes that Oakstick was unable to keep
a pony. That it would either break him, or fall to skin
and bone itself for want of regular keep. But John
knew mankind, and that success will encourage a man to
perform that of which all men judged him unfit. He
therefore hastened up to the barn loft, above the fodder,
to hold a consultation with the neighbour farmers w ha fc
MARE. 137
was best to "be done in this trying emergency, there being
no other place but the barn loft on the premises there.
He first sent for his groom, who came fearlessly,
smiling and napping his teeth. " "Well, my good friend,
you have made a respectable figure to-day, have you
not?"
" I don't know. Middling well, I thought."
" Indeed ! You thought you did middling well, did
you ? Ay, ay. Well, you are a most extraordinary
genius, to be sure ! So you thought you did middling
well, aih ? Why, let me tell you, my dear fellow, that is
certainly a very good joke. You are without all doubt
a great original. Why, my worthy friend, did you not
chance to observe that you were distanced both times ?"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha! he, he, he, he!" said the groom,
"that's very good."
" So you laugh, do you, sir, eh ? Tom, hand that list
here. Tell the boy there is no answer. And do you
hear ? Desire the miller, the bailiff, the backslider, and
the cooper to walk this length, as I want to speak with
them on particular business. You may likewise give my
compliments to Bell-the-cat, Twopenny Tom, and the
three Eussians. Ay, ay ! And so you laugh, do you,
sir ? Pray may I ask you, my good friend, what it is
that makes you laugh ? You thought it excellent sport
to be beat, did you, eh ? Why, sir, do you know that I
would rather have laid down a thousand guineas than
that you should have been beat by the rogue's pin-tailed
pony."
" Ha, ha, ha ! he, he, he ! That's excellent," quoth
the groom. " Hay, hay, hay !"
138 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
" You seem to be singularly diverted by your own
jockey ship, Mr. Murphy. Tou do not think it possible,
I suppose, to provoke me to anger ?" said the Bishop.
" Ha, ha, ha, ha ! That is very good ! Hay, hay, hay,
hay !" quoth the groom.
The Bishop's friends and neighbour farmers now began
to drop in one by one, and were each of them consulted
as they came, and afterwards altogether ; and they all
with one voice agreed that it must have been the rider's
fault that the stakes were lost, for that Meg was superior
to Blackie in every one point. They were likewise of
opinion that the Jew must be an excellent horseman, else
he could not have scampered off and left Meg in the
manner he had done.
"Why, gentlemen, you are all my very worthy and good
friends," said Bishop Paterson, " and have often managed
matters for me with great dexterity and prudence. Tou
all know that I keep a much better larder than Oakstick,
that I can afford to pay my people better, and that I do
pay them better. What, then, is to hinder you to bring
matters so about as that this young Jew shall come into
my pay ?"
" If it is so pre-ordained by Providence," said the
bailiff, 5 " I perceive not why it may not be with ease
accomplished."
" Bribe well, and there's little fear," said the back-
slider.
" We manage matters quite different in my country,"
said Count Skellowitz, the Eussian. " The proper way
would be to give your own groom the knout, poison the
Jew, and cut both the hough-sinews of this Blackieowski."
PATEUSUN'S MARK. 130
" That's very good," said the groom.
"That would be doing the tiling effectually," said
Scrape-a-Midding. " Did you observe yon new adver-
tisement that I put out ? Yon will catch some bawbees,
I should think."
" I heard some excellent songs on the race ground,"
said Twopenny Tom; "I wish I could have picked
them up."
" This is wandering from the subject in question,"
said the Bishop. " Pray, my good friend Colbert, what
is your opinion on the subject ?"
" I beg your pardon, sir, I did not observe what you
wen- talking about," said the miller.
" Cannot you pay some little attention to that, sir,
eh ? I'll take a bet he has been thinking about some
pretty girl that has been about the mill lately. I was
saying that if we could bring over this groom of Oak-
stick's, this young Jew, to our interest, it would be a
handsome thing."
" Do not you think so ?" said the miller. " I always
said it. That if she would dress a little more modestly
she would be a handsome thing."
" Body of me hear to him !" said the Bishop. " Was
I not right ? I told you what this man of flesh and
blood was thinking of."
" He is woman mad," said the backslider.
" Well, do you not think, gentlemen, that she would
be a delightful creature if she would dress a little more
decently. I always make her sit down and then hand
the samples of flour over her shoulder. >She is a delicious
girl !" yaid the miller.
140 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha! Hay, hay, hay, hay!" said the
groom. " That's very good."
" It is thus pre-ordained in the unaltertorial acquies-
cences of incontrollable energies," said the bailiff, " that
inadequacy of polyhedronism is always accompanied by
a redundancy of concupiscence."
" I don't know. I dare say that's very true, Snap,"
said the groom.
" She has a remarkably fine neck for one thing," said
the miller.
" This is quite intolerable," said Bishop Paterson.
When the debate was about this bearing, who should
enter but the identical Jew about whom it began, at
which the party were not a little surprised. The Bishop
received him kindly, although sore puzzled in accounting
for his appearance. " There is a superintending provi-
dentiality pervading every casualty of nature," said the
bailiff. "A man cannot wave his little finger but in
conformity to the adjudications of eternal institutions.
You may, therefore, avail yourself of this superadvenient
concatenation of events without departing from the
uprightness and rectitude of the demulcent principles
diffused over the heart by Christianization."
"I don't know. I dare say that may be very true,"
said the groom.
" Did you observe yon handsome jennet that I rode
so hard on the race ground," said Scrape-a-Midding.
" Yon is the very thing, sir, eh ?"
"Where did you pick up yon showy elf?" said the
backslider.
" All secret, sir. Quite close," said Scrape. " Some
JOHN PATERSON'S MARE. 141
say she was trained by a Scottish Lady, whose name
stands among the first in the list of huntresses. But
that's between ourselves, you know. What think you of
this business, eh ; queerish, is it not ? I never meddle
nor make with anything of the kind. Has not she fine
limbs, yon creature ?"
" It is a delightful qualification in a female," said the
miller.
The Bishop, finding that the counsels of every one of
his friends were running on his own concerns, hinted
that he wished to be heard, and then, in his own sly
and specious way, began sounding the Jew's business
at the meeting. He found him so free, so communi-
cative, and, withal, so little disposed to speak well of his
employer, that he was delighted with him ; and, in the
heat of his zeal to run his rival's black pin-tailed pony
fairly off" the field, he made him proffers which he got
leisure to repent.
Now it appears from the narrative of Anthony Hoole,
that the truth of the matter was as follows : When the
Jew first took the charge of Oakstick's Dunabbey, he
engaged, and gave one Jacob Unicorn for his surety, as
was said, to maintain the pony, solely at his own charges,
on the best oats, peas, and mashed beans, that the
country could afford ; to give her now and then a feed of
the finest wheat, kiln-dried and broken in the mill ; and
to administer two ounces of saltpetre every month. Far-
mer Oakstick, soon perceiving that Blackie was likely to
be a valuable and profitable beast, took occasion full
often to go over and examine the stores that his groom
had laid up for her. But to his great concern, in place
142 OLD PACES Itf NEW MASKS.
of the stuff that had been stipulated for, he found no-
thing but chaff, and bran, and dust, and the veriest trash
of oats in the whole market. Any tolerable samples
that he had, were proven to have been stolen from the
fields and possessions of other people. Oakstick declared
boldly at once that he would not have his young mare
fed on such stuff, and he would either compel the groom
forthwith to procure better or give up his charge. The
other contended that it was none of the farmer's business
what kind of food he gave Blackie. That he was at
liberty to give her what sort of food he pleased, and
never once ask his advice about the matter ; and, more-
over, that he would not only keep his charge, but compel
the contractor to abide by his bargain, appealing to his
friend and security, Jacob Unicorn.
The farmer applied to the security, but found him
worse than the principal. He exalted his horn on high,
and maintained that he and his friend had both a share
in the venture, and they were willing to take chance and
give her such provender as that they had in store. That
they considered and could prove him no judge of oats
from a transaction of his in the market of JXTewcastle-
under-Lyne, and they would therefore have him to
understand that they would force him to remain silent
and take his chance with them.
Oakstick protested that he would not ; and that
whatever it might cost him he would have his pony
fed with the best stuff that the whole country could
produce. Neither would he suffer her corn-chest to be
made up in that shabby way, by pilfering from the
crops and stores of other people. The others protested
PATEESON'S MAEE. 143
against his interference, so the breach widened every
day.
For some time the farmer continued to purchase corn
himself, and to pay his two grooms their stated allowance
"beside, for the sake of peace ; but at length considering
himself manifestly imposed upon, he determined to be
quit of his two inefficient grooms if it should cost him
the price of his mare, and all that he had gained by her
beside, accordingly he gave them warning to that effect.
Things were precisely in this situation when Mephi-
bosheth, the Jew, came over to Bishop Paterson and his
friends, assembled in the hay-loft, in order to procure
some sly arrangement with him before coming to a final
rupture with his opponent ; for the Jew was cunning,
and suspected that the Bishop would give him better
conditions for the sake of bereaving his rival of him than
for his own sake. He began, therefore, by declaring
that as far as his skill went, Meg was the better pony of
the two, provided she were as well fed, curry-combed,
and ridden. That she had every advantage over the
other, and therefore perceiving that, as he did, he had
come to offer his services to take the charge and manage-
ment of her, and if he was allowed to take his own way
he would engage to drive Oakstick's Dunabbey from the
turf for ever. In the first place he proposed a new sad-
dle-cloth and new furniture ; and likewise to have the
Bishop's pony booked by the same name as the other, so
that by the change of the furniture, the groom, and
the name, the betters might be utterly confounded ; and
he concluded by assuring the Bishop that lie should
gain.
144 OLD FACES Itf NEW MASKS.
" I want just to hear the sentiments of my friends all
round," said the Bishop, "before coming to a final
arrangement. Mr. Murphy, what do you say to this ?"
" I don't know. I dare say it may be all very true
that the gentleman says, Snap," said the groom. " The
keep of the pony is no object to me, should you and he
come to a bargain, my assistance shall not be wanting."
"You are an honest, a worthy, and a good man,"
said the Bishop. " I have long known you as such, and
am determined never to part with you in one capacity or
other."
" Perhaps it would preponderate protreptically if the
operations of men were extended in a numerical capa-
city," said the bailiff. " Uather than my respected
contemporary should be induced to exorbitance superva-
caneously, I shall train my own gray colt to the turf."
" It wad set him better to be trained to a dung wag-
gon," said Tom.
"I have a chestnut filly," said Count Skellowitz,
"that was bred by a country dominie, and afterwards
rode by a reverend divine, from whom I purchased her.
I intend to start her next year fairly on her own bottom."
" If she was bred by a dominie and trained by a
minister," said Tom, " she will have too much pedantry
and self-conceit ever to win."
" She has no pedigree," said Bell-the-cat. " I would
not look at a beast that has not an ancient pedigree."
" I like fine ancles, and beautiful eyes, and a well-
turned chest, better than an old musty pedigree," said
the miller.
" The devil you do," said the Bishop. " But now
JOHN PATEESON'S MAEE. 145
that I have heard all your sage and disinterested advice,
I propose to strike a bargain with this new groom, and
let my friend Oakstick get whom he will to ride his
abominable, black, pin-tailed beast."
" I can assure your reverence," said the Jew, " that
he will get no one to ride her against me, unless he do it
himself ; and in that case he shall not keep the stirrup a
minute. I will, moreover, give you my friend Jacob
Unicorn as my security and assistant, who shall be bound
for the fulfilment of all contracted for."
" I have him by the leg and the horn already," said
the Bishop.
The bargain was concluded : the new furniture and
saddle-cloth contracted for, and the Jew hasted away to
the stewards of the next races, which were on Dunabbey
Common, to get Meg booked by the name of the mare he
had formerly rode. "When Oakstick came up to book
his mare, he wondered not a little to see her name there
before him, as the property of Bishop Paterson ; but
suspecting some trick, he booked his pony simply by her
familiar name of Blackie. Count Skellowitz put down
his by the name of Dominie Felix ; the bailiff marked his
down by the title of The Waggoner ; and all the North
Biding of Yorkshire was one babble of boasting, specu-
lation, and anxiety, with regard to the issue of the great
contest.
[Here Anthony Poole's history abruptly finishes.]
OLD PACES IK NEW MASKS.
THE DANCES OP DEATH."
IT is one of the chief and ostensible purposes of all
graphic art to teach men wisdom and virtue ; to direct
their attention to both the serious and the pleasant side
of human existence ; and to enable them to draw rules
for the government of their understandings and conduct
in the ordinary affairs of life. For this comprehensive
purpose, various means are employed. We have the
sublime and elevated in art, the soft, the beautiful, the
emotional, and the common-place; and likewise the
satirical, the ridiculous, and the comic. Each artistic
division has its appropriate field of action, its separate
duties and offices to fulfil. It is against the constituted
order of things that there should be any indiscriminate
amalgamation of those separate elements of art. They
may, on some occasions, be mixed or blended to a certain
extent; but this is soon re-organized and rectified.
Nature, which is ever on the watch, and neither slum-
bereth nor sleepeth, steps in to direct the labours of the
artist, and to prevent him effecting any unnatural or
hybrid union of sentiments and feelings confessedly
antagonistic and unsuitable.
Nothing at first sight could appear more out of place
more directly opposed to the rule laid down, than to
make one of the most serious and deeply interesting
events of our lives, a subject of satire and comic teaching ;
THE "DANCES OF DEATH." 147
but a little reflection on the matter will enable us to
reconcile this apparent incongruity and inconsistency.
Death is the inexorable lot of all. This truth is deeply
felt by all mankind. The other dispensations of life are,
seemingly, meted out upon a more variable principle.
Poverty and riches pain and pleasure dominion and
servitude fall to the lot of humanity according to no
fixed scale that we can discover. A numerous host of
feelings and sentiments spring from this source. It is
upon these that are engrafted the lessons which the com-
mon mortality of us all, however variable and opposite
our social condition, is fitted to teach. It is on this
principle that artists have succeeded in drawing a deep
moral from the ludicrous in the tl Death's Doings"
among mankind. No other event of our lives nothing
which the most vivid imagination of man could create
no combination of circumstances, however singular and
momentous, could possibly be susceptible of this satirical
application, but Death alone. It is an exception to an
artistic rule, but an exception carrying with it a very
pointed and universal truth, for a moral and religious
purpose.
The various pictorial exhibitions of what are called the
"Dances of Death," have long been objects of peculiar
interest among artistic critics. Many controversies are
connected with their history, and numerous volumes have
been written concerning them. It is simply our present
aim to give a brief and popular sketch of these graphic
eccentricities, with a view of bringing them within the
knowledge of those readers and youthful artists who may
not have had any opportunities of making themselves ac-
148 OLD FACES IN FEW MASKS.
quainted with them. We can do little more than throw
together a few detached and general remarks on the sub-
ject. Our observations shall be classified under two
heads : namely, what relates to the " Dances " before the
art of printing was established, and what is connected
with them subsequent to that epoch.
Pictorial emblems of Death have their origin in re-
mote antiquity. They spring, as we have already hinted,
from an obvious source the deep interest with which all
men view their exit out of this present state of being,
and the varied modes and uncertainties usually con-
nected with this termination of human life. Some writers
maintain that the ancients represented Death by a skele-
ton, whilst others deny this position, and affirm that this
figure was never intended to personify the extinction of
life, but only as a mere abstraction of thought. This
latter class of writers maintain that there were more apt
and striking emblems for this purpose, and that the
mortality of human nature was personified by birds
devouring lizards and serpents, and by their pecking
fruits and flowers ; by goats browsing on vines ; and by
the fighting of cocks. The Romans adopted Homer's
emblem of repose, and said that Death was the brother
of Sleep. Sometimes, also, a genius was represented with
a vase on his shoulder, and with a burning torch reversed
in one of his hands. The figure of a butterfly was like-
wise employed by the ancients to represent the idea of
the soul's immortality. In an ancient sepulchral monu-
ment a corpse is seen, and over it a butterfly that has
just escaped from the mouth of the deceased. After-
wards, the painters and sculptors of the middle ages sub-
DANCES OF DEATH." 149
stituted a human figure escaping out of the mouth of the
dying person, instead of the butterfly.
Herodotus states that the Egyptians introduced a
person at their public banquets, who carried round the
table at which the guests were seated, the figure of a dead
body, placed on a coffin, exclaiming, at the same time,
" Behold this image of what yourselves will be ! eat and
drink, therefore, and be happy." The same sentiment
was adopted by the Romans. And modern travellers in
Egypt affirm that strikingly comic and caricaturical de-
signs have been traced on many sepulchral monuments,
and on many mummy cases in this country, evidently
with the intention of pointing a homely moral, both to
the high and lowly in station, that, however dissimilar
their lots may be in this world, they will all be upon
a perfect equality in the tomb.
A modern author makes the following observations
on this topic : " The ancients contemplated death with-
out terror, and met it with indifference. It was the
only divinity to which they never sacrificed, convinced
that no human being could turn aside its strokes. They
raised altars to Favour, to Misfortune, and to all the
ills of life ; for these might change. Eut though they
did not court the presence of Death in any shape, they
acknowledged its tranquillity in the beautiful fables of
their allegorical religion. Death was the daughter of
Night, and the sister of Sleep, and ever the friend of the
unhappy If the full light of revelation
had not yet broken on them, it can hardly be denied
'that they had some glimpse of a dawn of the life to
come, from the many allegorical inventions which de-
150 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
scribe the transmigration of the soul ; a butterfly on
the extremity of a lamp ; Love, with a melancholy air,
leaning on an inverted torch elegantly denoted the
cessation of life."*
Another writer says, "Beautiful as the emblem of
mortality in the weeping infant with the inverted torch
certainly is, the butterfly is no less apt in representing
the soul. The purity and lightness of its nature, its
ambrosial food, the brightness and splendour of its
colours, above all, its winged liberty when bursting
from its tomb-like confinement, in which it appeared to
sleep the sleep of death, offered so powerful a contrast
exhibited in the same creature, that it could not fail
to strike the intelligent among the heathen as a fit'
symbol of immortality. "f
But the chief displays of the "Dances of Death"
have a Christian origin. They arose from the church,
and were supported by it. It was a practice in Pagan
times to have wild and indecorous dances and revelries
in the temples of the deities ; and when European na-
tions came under the rule of the Christian system, the
clergy, on a principle of compromise, sanctioned these
dances in the churches and churchyards. Pope Euge-
nius the Second mentions the subject in the ninth century.
Great scandals were, however, the result of these bois-
terous scenes of gaiety and merriment ; and the clergy,
who had at first countenanced them, were constrained
to take up the matter with a view to a remedy. His-
torians tell us, notwithstanding the interdiction in
several theological councils against the practice of
* Disraeli's " Curiosities of Literature."
THE "DANCES or DEATH." 151
dancing in churches and burial-places, it was found
impossible to abolish it altogether, and it therefore
became necessary that something of a similar but more
decorous character should be substituted, which, whilst
it afforded recreation and amusement, might, at the same
time, convey'with it a moral and religious impression. It
was mainly from these considerations that the clergy
contrived to introduce the "Dance," or, "Pageant of
Death."* Mr. Wharfcon, in his "History of Poetry,"
states that in many churches of France there was an
ancient show or mimicry, in which all ranks of life were
personated by the ecclesiastics, who danced together,
and disappeared one after another. M. Barante, in his
" History of the Dukes of Burgundy," adverting to the
public entertainments that took place at Paris, when
Philip the Grood visited that city J; in 1424, observes that
" these were not solely made for the nobility, the com-
mon people being likewise amused from the month of
August to the following season of Lent, with the ' Dance
of Death,' in the churchyard of the Innocents, the English
being particularly gratified with this exhibition, which
included all ranks and conditions of men, Death being
morally the principal character in the representation."
The Duke of Bedford's victory at Verneuil was celebrated
by a similar festival in the French capital.
The caricatural or burlesque representations, con-
nected with the "Dances of Death," in France, have
always occupied more or less attention from modern
antiquarian critics. These graphic representations were
much earlier than the period indicated in the public
* Douce.
152 OLD FACES IN !NEW MASKS.
events just named. In 1325, there was an exhibition
of this kind, got up with great care and ingenuity, in
Paris. It was not, however, allowed to be seen for more
than about a month, on account, it is stated, that the
Court and the public authorities generally, considered
that many of the graphic figures were directed against
their public and private character, and that the piece
was calculated to create and foster public discontent
and disaffection.* "We had, likewise, similar exhibi-
tions, and upon a very large scale, at the City of Lyons,
at Amiens, and at Fecamp.
The earliest pictorial representation of the " Dances"
in Spain dates from 1354. It consisted of forty-two
figures, below each of which was an appropriate passage,
taken either from the Bible or from the writings of the
primitive Fathers of the Church. The piece was exhibited
at Barcelona, and the artist's name is stated to have
been Don Tomas Jose Gonzalez, a man of wit and
learning. We have no detailed account of these figures ;
but we are led to infer that they had a considerable
degree of satirical pungency about them, from the cir-
cumstance that the Court of the Inquisition suppressed
the exhibition of the picture, and threatened the artist
with its full measure of wrath, in case he should again
offend in like manner. In Italy, Pignotti depicted the
"Dances" in a whimsical style, about 1360, and was
more fortunate than his Spanish contemporary, for the
Pope conferred upon Pignotti one o his orders of merit,
as proof of his approbation and esteem. The number of
representations in this picture was thirty-four, and many
* "Histoire de Paris," 1801, Vol ii. p. 226.
THE "DANCES OF DEATH." 153
of the mottos or sentences accompanying them were
striking and appropriate. Artistic historians have left
us in the dark, however, "as to the precise nature of these
graphic comicalities.*
There were " Dances of Death " at Lubeck, Dres-
den, Nuremberg, Berlin, Vienna, and several other
cities in the north of Europe, before the art of printing;
but nothing particular is known of these imaginative
productions.
The interest which these " Dances of Death " excited
in the public mind of the middle ages was both general
and intense. And if we consider the matter for a
moment, we shall readily recognize something innately
comic and ludicrous in the appearance of the human
skeleton. This comicality is vastly increased when it is
represented to be in motion, or to be performing any of
the duties or offices of common life or intellectual voli-
tion. There is a high caricatural vein running through
all such exhibitions, no matter how solemn may be the
occasions or purposes for which such emblems are em-
ployed.
The learned Sir Thomas More speaks of the early
illustrations of the " Dances of Death," displayed in
this country, in the following words : " But if we not
only here this word Death, but also let sink into our
heartes the very fantasye and depe imagination thereof,
we shall perceive thereby that we wer never so gretly
moved by the beholding of the Dance of Death pictured
in Poules, as we shal fele ourself stered and altered
by the feling of that imagination in our hertes. And
* " Bojardo," Yol. i. p. 20.
154 OLD FACES 1ST NEW MASKS.
no marvell. For those pictures expresse only ye
lothly figure of our dead, bony bodies, bitten away
ye flesh."*
Shakespere himself seems to have viewed these curious
productions with a keen and philosophic eye :
" For within the hollow crown
That bounds the moral temples of a king
Keeps Death his court : and there the antic sits,
Mocking his state and grinning at his pomp ;
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchise, be feared, and kill with looks ;
Infusing him with self and Tain conceit,
As if this flesh, which walls about his life,
Were brass impregnable and humoured thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Bores through the castle walls, and farewell, king ! "
These caricatural prints on the " Dances of Death,"
greatly multiplied after the art of printing became
general throughout Europe. Booksellers, printers, and
engravers found it a profitable speculation to multiply
books and pictorial illustrations of the subject. The
popular interest was so intensely and steadily main-
tained, for a long series of years, that considerable
variety was thrown into the figures and characters intro-
duced into the "Dances." Though Death always occu-
pied a prominent position, yet the other subordinate
personages in the pictures become more varied as we
approach to modern times. These have been regulated
by the whim and comic conceptions of individual artists.
The collection of prints, within the last four cen-
turies, on this subject, has been so extensive that we
* Works, p. 77.
THE "DANCES OF DEATH." 155
can find no room for a particular enumeration. But, as
the chief features of all the productions are very much
alike, we shall present the reader with a short descrip-
tion of the figures of the famous Lyons edition of the
"Dances of Death," which "bears the date of 1448, just
ten years after the first application of printing from
wooden blocks in Germany. This illustration of the
"Dances" has formed the basis of many other produc-
tions of the same kind, and has been said to owe its
authorship to Hans Holbein himself, who was not even
born till half a century after this date. The figures of
this piece of satire amount to forty-nine, and are as
follows :
1st, " The Creation." The Deity is here represented
in the act of taking Eve from the side of Adam. 2nd,
"The Temptation." Eve is taking the fruit from the
serpent, and holds it up to her husband. 3rd, " The
Expulsion from Eden." Adam and Eve are preceded
by Death, who plays on a viol, or beggar's lyre, and who
testifies an intense satisfaction at their fall. 4th, " The
Consequences." Adam is digging the ground, assisted
by Death. In the distance, Eve is suckling her first-
born, and holding a distaff. 5th, "A Cemetery." Se-
veral figures of Death are here assembled, most of them
playing on instruments of music. 6th, "The Pope."
He is in the act of crowning an emperor ; two cardinals
are waiting on him, one of whom ludicrously personates
Death. Bishops figure in the background. Death
embraces the pope with one hand, and, with the other,
leans on a crutch. Two grotesque devils are introduced,
one of whom hovers over the pope, and the other, in the
156 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
air, holds a diploma, to which several seals are ap-
pended. 7th, " The Emperor." He is seated on a throne,
attended by numerous courtiers in gay apparel, listening
to a poor man's petition against a rich oppressor, whom
the emperor, holding the sword of justice, regards with a
frowning countenance. Death lays his hand on the
crown. 8th, " The King." He is sitting at a well-covered
and sumptuous table. Death is the cup-bearer, and pre-
sents the king with his last draught. 9th, " The Car-
dinal." Some writers conceive that this theological
functionary is in the act of receiving the bull of his ap-
pointment ; others, again, that he is making a purchase
of indulgences. Death is in the act of twisting off the
cardinal's hat. 10th, " The Empress." She is gor-
geously attired, and attended by maids of honour, but is
intercepted by Death, in her walk, in the character of a
shrivelled old woman, who points significantly to an open
grave, llth, " The Queen." She is just coming from
her palace, when Death unexpectedly approaches, and
drags her away. Her jester, in whose habiliments Death
has comically attired himself, endeavours in vain to pro-
tect her. A female attendant is screaming violently.
Death holds up his hour-glass. 12th, "The Bishop."
He is quietly resigned to his fate, and led away by
Death. His loss is deplored by the flight, and great
terror falls upon several shepherds amidst their flocks.
The sun is setting in the distance. 13th, " The Duke."
He is attended by his courtiers, and solicited for charity
by a poor woman with a child. He disdainfully turns a
deaf ear to the request. Death, fantastically crowned
with leaves, lays hold of him. 14th, "The Abbot."
THE "DANCES OF DEATH." 157
Death, despoiling him of his mitre and crosier, drags him
away. The abbot resists with all his strength, and is
aiming to throw his breviary at his antagonist. 15th,
" The Abbess." Death, grotesquely crowned with flags,
seizes the poor abbess by her scapulary. A man at the
convent gate is pathetically lamenting her fate. 16th,
" The Gentleman." Vainly, with uplifted sword, he
endeavours to liberate himself from the fatal grasp of the
King of Terrors. An hour-glass is placed on his bier. 17th,
" The Canon." Death holds up his hour-glass, as he is
entering the cathedral. Both are followed by a noble
person with a hawk on his fist, his buffoon, and a little
boy. 18th, " The Judge." He is in the act of deciding
a case between the rich and the poor. From the former
he is about to receive a bribe. Death snatches his staff
of office from his hands. 19th, " The Advocate." The
rich client is bribing him. Death reminds him that his
glass is run out. He is so engrossed with counting his
money that he pays little or no attention to the admoni-
tion. 20th, "The Magistrate." A demon is blowing
corruption into his ear, and he has turned his back on an
old man. Death is placed at his feet with an hour-glass
and spade. 21st, "The Preacher." Death, with a stole
about his neck, stands behind the preacher, and holds a
jaw-bone over his head, typifying that he is perhaps the
most effective preacher of the two. 22nd, "The Priest."
He is carrying the holy sacrament to some dying person.
Attendants follow, with tapers and holy water. Death
strides on before, with bell and lantern, to announce
the coming of the priest. 23rd, " The Mendicant Friar."
He is in the act of entering his convent with his money-
158 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
box and wallet. Death seizes him by the cowl, and
drags him off. 24th, " The Nun." Here we have an
affair of gallantry. The young lady has a lover in her
apartment. She is kneeling before the altar, but is
actually listening to the amorous music of the young
man, who, seated on a bed, touches a lute. Death ex-
tinguishes the candle. 25th, " The Old Woman." She
is accompanied by two Deaths, one of whom, playing on
a wooden psalter, precedes her she seems more atten-
tive to her rosary of bones than to the music whilst
the other Death impatiently urges her forward with
blows. 26th, " The Physician." He receives for inspec-
tion an urinal, which Death presents to him, which
contains the discharges from a decrepit old man medice
euro, te ipsum. 27th, " The Astrologer." He is looking
attentively in his study at a suspended sphere. Death
holds out a skull to him, and, in mockery, seems to say,
" Here is a more interesting and profitable subject for
your contemplation." 28th, " The Miser." Death has
burst into his strong-room, among his chests and money-
bags, and, coolly seating himself on a stool, collects into
a large dish the money on the table, which the miser
had just been counting. The poor man is in an agony
of despair. 29th, "The Merchant." He has escaped
the perils of the sea, and reaches a snug retreat, laden
with riches. Whilst in the act of contemplating them,
Death surprises him. 30th, " The Ship in the Tempest."
Death is employed in breaking the mast. The owner
of the vessel is in despair. 31st, " The Knight." After
escaping the danger of numerous combats, he is van-
quished by Death, whom he ineffectively resists. 32nd,
THE "DADOES OF DEATH." 159
" The Count." Death is attired in the dress of a
ragged peasant, and revenges himself upon his proud and
lordly oppressor. 33rd, "The Old Man." He is led to
the grave by death beguiling him with the music of a
dulcimer. 34th, "The Countess." She is receiving a
splendid dress and ornaments. Death places round her
neck a collar of bones. 35th, " The New-married Lady,"
She is accompanied by her husband, who is diverting
her attention from Death, who is insidiously dancing
before them, and beating a tambour. 36th, "The
Duchess." She is sitting up, dressed, in bed, at the foot
of which are two Deaths ; one plays on a violin, and the
other is pulling the clothes from the bed. 37th, " The
Pedlar." He is heavily laden, his dog by his side, and
proceeding on his route. Death violently pulls him in
another direction. 38th, "The Husbandman." He is
assisted by Death, who conducts the horses of his plough.
39th, " The Child." A female cottager is preparing her
family mess, when Death enters, and carries off the
youngest of her children. 40th, " The Soldier." He is
vanquished by Death, who strikes him with a bone. On
the ground are laid many of the soldier's companions.
41st, " The G-amesters." Death and the Devil are con-
tending for one of the company whom both have seized.
42nd, " The Drunkards." They are assembled in a dis-
reputable house, and intemperately feasting. Death
pours liquor from a flagon into the mouth of one of the
party. 43rd, " The Idiot Fool." He is mocking Death ;
Death smiles, and seems amused at his efforts, and leads
him away in a dancing attitude. 44th, "The Bobber."
When in the act of robbing a poor woman, Death comes
160 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
behind, and lays violent hands upon him. 45th, " The
Blind Man." Carefully measuring his steps, and igno-
rant of his road, he is led on by Death, who with one
hand takes him by the cloak, and with the other holds
his staff. 46th, " The "Waggoner." His cart is loaded
with wine casks. One of his horses is thrown down by
two mischievous Deaths ; the wheel is taken off, and the
casks destroyed. The poor driver is in black despair.
47th, " The Beggar." He is nearly naked, and in the
agonies of death. He sits on straw, at the gate of an
hospital. On the ground are his crutches. 48th, " The
Last Judgment." Christ sitting on a rainbow, amidst a
group of angels. Many naked figures have arisen from,
their graves, and are imploring for mercy. 49th, " The
Allegorical Escutcheon of Death." The shield is frac-
tured in several places. On it is a skull. The helmet is
surmounted by two arabesques ; the hands grasp a rug-
ged piece of stone, and an hour-glass is placed at hand.
Such are the general topics treated of in the " Dances
of Death," and such the peculiar fashion in which they
are handled by graphic artists. It is obvious that a wide
field is here opened for diversity of illustration. Every
condition of life, every common phase which humanity
assumes, is susceptible of being represented in various
ways, according to the imaginative powers and modes of
thinking of artists. The serious and the comic, the
instructive and the caricatural, are capable of being
amalgamated in various proportions; and hence it is
that we find, from an historical glance at the entire
subject, that, though the ludicrous and satirical have
always been attributes of these productions, yet there have
THE "DANCES OP DEATH." 161
been some of them in which the serious and contem-
plative have greatly predominated. There are likewise
some solitary instances where particular and local topics
have been treated after this fashion. When Leo X.
ascended the papal throne, the public rejoicings to cele-
brate the event were on the most expensive scale. Every-
thing which wealth and the wit of man could devise to
give zest to this pageantry display was employed. The
thing being manifestly overdone, it gave rise to sarcasm.
An artistic satirist of the day caricatured the whole pro-
cession, under the figures of the " Dances of Death," and
with the most irresistible and whimsical effect. With
the figure of Death he rang the changes on all the most
striking parts of the public rejoicings, and thus produced
one of the most powerful and happy satirical attacks of
his age. The artist's name is said to have been Carini.
We likewise find that in Prance a similar device
was used to ridicule Louis XIV., his court, and
government. Death is here made, in the most whimsical
attitudes, the instrument of throwing contempt and de-
rision on the ostentatious luxury and general profligacy
which characterized this section of French history.
There are likewise some editions of the " Dances" pub-
lished in France, of a general character, embracing, like
the one we have just noticed in detail, all the most pro-
minent phases of the life of man, and the ordinary inci-
dents and offices to which social and political institutions,
in all countries, give rise. These productions are, for
the most part, well executed, and the wit and comic
spirit is fully elicited and sustained in them.
The best of the " Dances," after the Lyons one, is-
M
162 OLD FACES IIS' NEW MASKS.
unquestionably that produced by Hans Holbein. Though
we have no doubt but that he took this famous French
edition as his guide, yet he recast the entire piece, and
infused so much of original power and sarcastic pun-
gency into the whole, as to make the production, which
goes under his name, in a great measure his own. All
the artists who have attempted to imitate or rival him in
this line, have come far short of his general merits and
artistic genius.
The " Death's Doings " of Mr. Dagley, published in
London about thirty years ago, are but very sober and
prosaic representations. They lack the comic and cari-
catural elements, and on this account are of a very
subdued tone and interest compared with most of the
continental productions on the same subject. Mr.
Dagley's representations are each accompanied by a
letter-press description, both in prose and verse, which
makes them of some interest.
These " Dances of Death," which are better known
among artists on the continent than in England, have
both an artistic and social interest, inasmuch as they not
only convey with the pencil some very refined and
subtle conceptions of the mind, but must be considered
as bold and successful attempts to satirize the govern-
ments of the day. Many of them were made the expo-
nents of public sympathy and feeling, and gave the
corrupt and unscrupulous many uncomfortable and
seasonable warnings of their final punishment, and
expulsion from power and authority.
Perhaps it may be asked why we class this subject
under the head of the caricatural at all ? "We think the
THE "DANCES OF DEATH." 163
question pertinent enough. Our opinion is, that all the
"Dances of Death" are decidedly caricatural; but we
are fully aware that they may likewise be classed under
the heads of personification, or allegorical figures, used
solely with a view of pointing a moral that death is tlie
lot of all. All caricatural designs, however, comprehend
more or less of personification and allegory ; and when
these are joined to the whimsical and grotesque, the
entire compound makes up a subject "that comes legiti-
mately under the category of the caricatural. "We have
found in many writers on the "Dances of Death" consider-
able discrepancies in their several modes of speaking and
reasoning on the topic. Some place certain collections of
pictorial devices under the head of caricature; others
under the grotesque and fanciful ; whilst others, again,
have classified them under the denomination of simple
allegory. "We conceive, however, that the mass of
written artistic criticism is in favour of all such figures
forming a distinct branch of the caricatural ; and it is
from this conviction that we have ventured to treat the
matter in the manner we have.
1(54 OLD FACES IS STEW MASKS.
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BEITISK
CABICATUBE.
CAEICATUIIE is a branch of art of great importance and
influence, although its history is but imperfectly known.
In no other country has this art been so extensively
used for social and political purposes, nor been carried to
such great perfection, as in Great Britain. JSTo other
country has given it the same amount of encourage-
ment and chiefly for this reason, that in no other part
of the globe has the same measure of freedom been en-
joyed by all 'classes of the people.
Pictorial satire is no new invention ; it can be traced
among every people of whom we have any historical
acquaintance. In the centre of the pyramids, upon
Egyptian tombs, on Assyrian remains, and in the cata-
combs of Borne, caricatures have been met with ; and in
ancient manuscripts, missals, sculptured pieces of wood,
and in architectural decorations of the middle ages, we
find the memorials of pictorial humour and^ satirical
invective.
Among our Saxon forefathers caricature was em-
ployed, and they seem to have made very free with their
rulers, and men in political authority and station. We
see this in some of the churches, and the delineations
are by no means very flattering. In the church of
Bredon, in Leicestershire, there are ranges of figures,
HISTOEICAL SKETCH OF BEITISH CAEICATTTEE. 165
placed in the walls, near the heads of princes and queens,
connected with a set of animals grinning over each
other's backs, with faces redolent of the most genuine
caricature. A pillar at the west end of Ledbury Church,
Herefordshire, has a neatly-executed caricatural head
placed upon it. There are likewise many curious sati-
rical representations connected with the Anglo-Saxon
" gleemen." These practised dancing, tumbling, sleight-
of-hand threw balls and knives alternately into the air,
and caught them again, one by one. These performers
taught animals to dance, tumble, and play many strange
tricks and antics. On the friezes of Alderbury, Kilpeck,
and other Anglo-Saxon churches, there are pictorial
representations of them on the stone walls, and on the
wooden parts of the stalls. In one of these old churches,
now unhappily in ruins, there are still to be seen several
grotesque faces, placed there, according to tradition, by
the monks, in derision of the townspeople. There are
also two or three Anglo- Saxon coins, found about the
middle of the last century in Devonshire, on which there
are unmistakeable grotesque figures, ridiculing some of
the public authorities of the day.
On the arched corbel table over the doorway of
Romsey Abbey, we have various grotesque figures.
Mr. Digby Wyatt says, " This is an example of the
latter Norman style. The grotesque figures are cha-
racteristic of that sculpture, whether Lombard, Rhenish,
or Norman, in which, with figures more or less sym-
bolic of divine matters, are mixed up the fancies, and
often the coarse jokes of the rude artist,"
As we proceed clown the stream of time, we find
16G OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
caricature in the fourteenth century. There is a prayer-
book used by our Richard II., on the back of which
there are figured very grotesque representations of choirs
of priests, monks, and nuns, employed in the actual
service of the church. About the same period, science
itself fell under the ban of graphic ridicule. In one of
the Cotton manuscripts in the British Museum, there is
a caricatural drawing of astronomy, in which there is a
figure of a triangle, including three others, on one of the
lines of which our Saviour is extended. Two fiends are
shooting with bows and arrows at the crucifix ; and they
are likewise drawn with forky stings in their mouths.
There is also still extant a striking caricatural repre-
sentation of one of our kings, in this century, crossing
over the Channel to Prance. This is, perhaps, one of
the earliest specimens of pictorial satire between the
two neighbouring nations.
In the reigns of Henry YII. and Henry VIII.
there were several notable caricatures, which are still
extant in some of the private cabinets of the curious.
These were mostly of a political and religious character.
The first monarch was ridiculed for depressing the influ-
ence of the aristocracy of the day, and for his parsi-
monious habits of life. These sketches are rough, and
executed in pen-and-ink. Henry VIII. laid himself
very open to the caricaturists of the age ; and they
often put him in an ill humour a thing not difficult to
do at any time by their wit and drollery. His conten-
tions with the Pope, and his amorous habits, were the
most prolific sources of these graphic squibs.
A William "Wraghton was one of the active pictorial
HISTOKICAL SKETCH OF BEITISH CABICATURE. 167
satirists of the day. Little or nothing is known of his
private history, further than that he lived principally
at Winchester, and that, on the government threatening
Lim with punishment for some of his sketches, he went
over to Holland, where he remained for some time,
and where, it is conjectured, he got engraved several
of those caricatural pieces which connoisseurs have
ascribed to his pencil. He came back to England
before the death of Henry VIII. , for we find Wragh-
tcn's name as publisher of a book printed at Win-
chester in 1545, which contains the first grotesque
and satirical illustrations executed in England of that
notable romance, " Beynard the Pox," In one of the
woodcuts in this rare and curious book we have the fox
holding a bishop's crook, and underneath the following
lines :
" My son, Steven G-ardiner, with wepying teares,
Hath cut away the toppes of rnyn eaeres ;
But the rest of my body abydeth hole still,
With alle rny ceremonies even at my will.
I trust rnyn eaeres shal grow agayn,
When all the gospellers ar ones slayn.
Whiche Steven, my son, both sterck and stout,
Doth now right ernestly go aboute.
If he can bryng thys mater to pass,
He shal be cardinal, as Fissher was."
Dr. William Turner, a native of Northumberland,
following the medical profession at Oxford, and the
first writer on botany in the English language, was a
sketcher of caricatures against the papal hierarchy. He
wrote several satirical works ridiculing the papacy, some
of which were illustrated with humorous and witty
representations. He was often under the necessity, like
68 OLD FACES II* XEW MASKS.
Wraghton, of paying visits to Holland, to escape punish-
ment ; and lie is conjectured to have been the designer
of many of those comic Dutch engravings which were
numerously circulated in England in the reigns of
Henry VIII. and Queen Mary. "We are told by Warton,
in his " Life of Pope," that in the reign of this queen,
when England was groaning under the Spanish yoke,
her person and government were held up to perpetual
ridicule by prints and pictures, " representing her naked,
meagre, withered, and wrinkled, with every aggravated
circumstance of deformity that could disgrace the female
figure ; seated in a regal chair, a crown on her head,
surrounded by M, E, and A, in capitals, accompanied
by small letters Maria JZegina Anglicce. A number
of Spaniards were sucking her to skin and bone ; and a
specification was added of the money, rings, jewels, and
other presents with which she had secretly gratified her
husband Philip."
After the doctrines of the Reformation were pretty
fully established in England on the accession of Elizabeth
to the throne, caricatures still continued very rife. A
great proportion of them came from Holland, but sup-
posed to be the work of English designers. There is a
large English print called " Popish Plots and Treasons,"
representing, in thirty-four separate engravings, the
various plots which the Catholic Church has been en-
gaged in for a considerable time back. The satirical
emblems are each accompanied with a set of appropriate
verses. Appended to the piece we have "A Thankful
Remembrance of God's Mercies," by Gr. S. Printed and
sold at John Grarret's, Exchange Stairs, Cornhill.
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CARICATURE. 169
Queen Elizabeth's " Procession " was often the sub-
ject of caricatural representation, both during her life-
time and long after her decease. The Pope is here
depicted in effigy, in a chair of state, with the Devil
placed behind him, caressing him. "When the effigy is
thrown into the flames, his Satanic majesty is repre-
sented laughing heartily at the scrape his holiness has
got himself into.
The " Stultifera Navis, or the Ship of Fools," by
Alexander Barclay, priest, appeared in 1570, with one
hundred and eighteen engravings on wood. The con-
ceptions of many of these plates are very good, and full
of genuine humour and caricatural pith. The execution
is, however, but very indifferent. The design of the
work is to ridicule the prevailing follies and vices of
every rank and profession, under the allegory of a ship
freighted with fools. A great variety of characters are
delineated, and the advice the author gives to the various
sorts of fools has the merit of good sense and sound
morality. This work has generally been considered as
the first of the graphic attempts to satirize vice and
folly in the abstract, which appeared in England. Bar-
clay's publication was a great favourite with Hogarth,
and he often remarked that he owed not a little to its
suggestions and sketches of the ludicrous.
"When James I. arrived in London, from his
Scottish capital, he was lampooned by a series of clever
sketches, in most of which his majesty was described as
labouring under what the prints called "The Scotch
.Fiddle." The King is designed as giving utterance to
that well-known saying which his biographers have put
170 OLD FACES IX NEW 1IASKS.
into his royal mouth, that " to scratch where it was
yeuckey, was a pleasure too great for mere subjects to
enjoy."
There was likewise a clever caricature of the King,
illustrative of the satirical ballad, "The old woman
tossed nineteen times over the moon." The print
alludes to his majesty's hatred of pipes, pork, sling, and
witches.
There was likewise a stinging caricature, sold by John
Dawson, on London Bridge, in 1610, levelled against the
numerous train of Scotch adventurers who emigrated to
London, in expectation of being distinguished by their
sovereign. The king is represented as being much
annoyed by their various applications for honours and
public situations ; and the caricaturist has put into his
royal mouth these sentences, out of his own proclamation,
" Idle rascals and poor miserable bodies ;" " Idle persons
of base sort and condition," etc. The print represents
the applicants as gaudily decked out in costume, and
takes the title of " Jockie the Gentleman." The follow-
ing verses are appended to the print :
" Well met, Jockie, whither away ?
Shall we two have a word or tway ?
Thou wost so lousie the other day,
How the devil comes you so gay ?
Ha, ha, ha, by sweet St. Ann,
Jockie is grown a gentleman.
" Thy doublet and breech, that were so plaine,
On which a louse could scarce remain,
Are turn'd to a satin God-a-mercy traim>,
That thou by begging couldst this obtaine !
Ha, ha, ha, etc.
HISTOEICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CAEICATUEE. 171
" Thy bonnet of blew, which thou went hither,
To keep thy skonce from wind and weather,
Is thrown away, the devil knows whither,
And tur'd to a beaver hat and feather.
Ha, ha, ha, etc.
" Westminster hall was cover'd with lead,
And so was St. John many a day ;
The Scotchmen have begg'd it to buy them bread,
The devil take all such Jockies away.
Ha, ha, ha, etc."
During this reign, a caricaturist, of the name of
Broadbent, was brought before the Star Chamber, for
too freely exercising his craft. He was mulct in a fine
of ten pounds, and committed for two months to prison.
His productions had had a great sale, and given much
umbrage to some of the courtiers about the King's person.
He was an artist of great invention, and his sketches,
now extremely rare, display much genuine and refined
wit and drollery.
" The Eevels of Christendome," sold by Mary Oliver,
Westminster Hall, is a well-known and highly-valued
caricature, now in the British Museum. It repre-
sents the Pope, James I., Henry VI., of Prance,
Prince Maurice, and Christian IV. of Denmark,
seated at a gambling table, and playing for their respec-
tive national temporalities. The progress of the game is
related in verse, but is too long for insertion. "We must
likewise notice the whimsical caricatures and burlesques
sketched by the famous Inigo Jones, in many of
the masques performed at Whitehall in the reign of
James I. In the "Masque of Darkness," and the
"Masque of Hymen," the designs were so supremely
172 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
comic and appropriate that Vandyke praised them in the
highest terms.
In the stirring times of the struggle between
Charles I. and the nation, there were a great number of
caricatural productions published in England, both of
home and foreign design and execution. The death of
Charles, and the assumed power of Cromwell, were alike
severely lashed. Indeed, the Protector was so annoyed
and stung with these pictorial productions, which repre-
sented him under all manner of allegories and figures,
that he caused an ordinance to be promulgated in 1665,
commanding that no person should publish or print any
manner of public news or intelligence, unless under the
direct sanction of the Secretary of State. Cromwell is
said to have called these comic draughtsmen " a low set
of waspish scoundrels."
Eelative to the unfortunate King's trial and con-
demnation, there was an engraving which represented
" Civil "War." Two monsters were drawing a car emit-
ting fire, and driven by Satan. A fiend forms a part of
the company, with the "Commonwealth" inscribed on
his shield. Underneath are the lines :
" Whilst wing'd ambition, groundless jealousy,
Flaming rebellion, dismal anarchy,
To roll his hissing wheels each foaming strives,
Needs must they go, whom such a Jehu drives !
But would you know the end of the career ?
He best can tell, ask the black charioteer."
The caricatural designers of this revolutionary era
were Bonner, Tredgold, and Simons. Bonner, who lived
in Westminster, and kept a small picture shop, was
HISTOEICAL SKETCH OF EBITISH CAEICATTJEE. 173
originally a house-painter, but took to comic sketching,
from motives of gain and taste. He is represented as a
man of keen wit and lively repartee. Tredgold was by
profession a house-carpenter, but devoted much of his
time to caricaturing men of note. Simons was a painter
and engraver, and lived near "Westminster Abbey. He
was punished with twelve months' imprisonment for
caricaturing several of the canons of the cathedral.
Almost all of these artists' productions are now rare.
We find the spirit of graphic satire very active
from the days of Cromwell till the termination of the
seventeenth century. During the Eestoration, and the
political events which happened from the death of
Charles II. till the accession of Queen Anne, abundant
materials were found for fun and drollery, which the comic
artists of the hour took care to improve. Caricatures
were not now so much limited to theological and political
topics ; they took up matters of modern customs, man-
ners, scientific or learned novelties, and the whimsical
notions which occasionally took hold of the public mind
of the age. The art of comic sketching became likewise
more carefully studied as a distinct branch of art ; and
its elementary principles were both more thoroughly
understood and more generally reduced to practice.
A little before the Eestoration, and for several years
after it, we have Hollar occasionally directing his pencil to
caricature. He was a Bohemian by birth and education,
but resided long in England, and was zealously attached
to the cause of Charles I. This artist died in 1677 ;
and though he executed 2,400 engravings, he died
S3 poor that there was an execution in his house for
174 OLD FACES ITS ]SEW MASKS.
debt on the day of his death. He had a quick and witty
invention, regulated by sound principles of critical taste.
Several of his satirical plates are considered models of
caricatural merit. One of his pieces, directed against
the Earl of Stafford, is highly praised for the wit and
ingenuity displayed and worked out in the entire con-
ception. It represents the Earl wrapped in a flowing
mantle, in the folds of which there are numerous por-
traits, both male and female ; some of the latter were
his well-known mistresses. Another plate of Hollar's,
highly commended, is a figure of " Time " carrying Rome,
and all her theological trappings, on her back. The piece
is headed with these lines :
" This burden back to Home I'll beare againe,
From whence it came there let it still remaine."
A sudden and violent change in national costumes
took place in this century. The most absurd and ridi-
culous fashions prevailed, both in female and male attire.
The comic pencils of the day took up the matter, and
turned the public laugh on the unbecoming and silly
innovations. In this they did good service. About
1650 we have one large print, entitled " The Picture
of an English Antick," accompanied by a list of his
outrageous habits and apish gestures. Another famous
caricature, on the same subject, was called " Mad Fashions
Odd Fashions all Out of Fashion ; or the Emblems of
these Distracted Times." This piece is very clever ; and
the wit is sharp and pungent. A man is depicted whose
eyes have left their sockets ; his legs are placed where
his arms should be, and his arms discharging the un-
natual offices of his lower extremities. A horse, stand-
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CARICATURE. 175
ing on his hind legs, drives a cart ; fishes swim in the
air, and birds in the sea; the candle burns with the
flame downwards ; and the labourer is wheeled home by
his own wheelbarrow.
The body of religious dissenters were roughly
handled during the reign of Charles II. Many curious
pieces of fun and drollery are still extant on this topic.
The extreme opinions, strict discipline, and grotesque
demeanour of some of the religious parties, laid them
peculiarly open to ridicule and banter. The esta-
blished clergy did not escape. They were hardly
dealt with in several pungent representations executed
by one Dunn, who lived in Smithfield, and who was
punished for his satirical temerity by three months'
imprisonment. Little or nothing is known of Dunn's
artistic or private life, but from a few scattered hints in
rare and forgotten pamphlets. He is described as of
loose habits, but possessing a comic genius of no mean
order.
During this king's reign public-house signs often
owed their origin to the spirit of caricature. A goose
striking a gridiron with her foot, was put up at a
place called the " Swan and Harp," in ridicule of the
musical meetings that were commonly held there. The
coins and medals of this age, of a comic cast, are not
numerous, but some of them are very humorous and
witty.
The quarrel between the famous Dr. Eichard Bentley
and Dr. Conyers Middleton, was honoured with several
amusing caricatures, which attracted considerable atteE-
tion among literary men. One of these represented
178 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Bentley about to be thrust into the brazen bull of
Phalaris, and exclaiming, " I had rather be roasted than
Boylecl" alluding to his famous sermons on the lecture-
ship instituted by the well-known Robert Boyle.
The Royal Society was attacked by Butler, in his
" Elephant in the Moon ; and there is a capital caricature
on the subject, representing an elephant riding on the
lunar orb, with the words encircled round it, " Don't
I know all about it ?" This piece was designed and en-
graved by an artist of the name of Greig, who lived
in Covent Garden, and who is known as the author
of several other comic prints, levelled against the same
learned body.
On the accession of Queen Anne, at the beginning of
the last century, religious and political parties ran high.
This circumstance gave a powerful impetus to caricature.
The dominant church party, represented by the zealous
and ambitious Sacheverell, was satirized in several large
prints.' The doctrines of passive obedience and non-resist-
ance, then powerfully advocated by the Episcopalian
dignitaries, were made the subjects of fun and merriment.
There are seventeen different comic engravings con-
nected with Sacheverell, his party, and his times.
In the early part of this century, caricatural medals
were very common in England, and liberally distributed
in various parts of the Continent, where their satirical
import was likely to be felt.
In the reign of this Queen we have playing cards
containing satirical and comic representations. A pack
of this description relates to love affairs. On the ace of
spades a Cupid is depicted plucking a rose, with the in-
HISTOKICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CAEICATUEE. 177
scription, " In Love no pleasure without pain," with, the
following lines underneath :
" As when we reach to crop the blooming rose
Prom off its brier, the thorns will interpose ;
So when we strive the beauteous nymph to gain,
The pleasures we pursue are mixed with pain."
All the other cards of the pack have similar explanatory
lines at the foot of each.
But the great epoch in the history of caricaturing in
England at this period, was the " South Sea Bubble."
There were several English artists engaged in this affair,
but the chief trade was carried on by Dutch engravers. "We.
find the eagerness of the London public to get possession
of these comic sketches, was beyond all conception. The
Dutch merchant, Bruck, had his regular supply of pic-
tures exhibited for sale at his shop near the Exchange.
" Yesterday," says an authority, " it was early surrounded
by an eager crowd, to buy his wares. It was very
amusing to watch the movements of the multitude ; how
they jolted one another in striving to get served with
the precious new batch of caricatures. One man in
livery had an arm broken, and was taken, otherwise
severely bruised, to the hospital. A woman, with a child
in her arms, had a narrow escape from being trodden
among feet. Towards the close of the day, Bruck, seeing
the demand to be as good as ever, and his stock getting
low, raised the price of the prints, which created a vio-
lent commotion among the unserved portion of the
crowd. Several threats were uttered about breaking his
windows, for doing so mean an action. "Whether he
succeeded in increasing the price of his commodities, we
N
178 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
know not with certainty; but the hubbub passed off
better than at one time it promised to do. "We saw
many of the nobility pressing hard, and got well squeezed
in the mob ; and two or three notable ladies, known
about the purlieus of the court, had their dresses very
much soiled and tattered."*
It was in the reign of Queen Anne that we first find
caricature applied to electioneering matters. Incorpo-
rated with the various designs calculated to throw
ridicule and public scorn on bribery and corruption,
were a number of mottos, such as " Sell not your coun-
try;'' "Regard Justice;" "Accept this at present;"
" Help me, Folly, or my cause is lost," etc.
Jack Laguere, as he was called, was one of our first
caricaturists, both in point of wit and industry, who im-
mediately preceded Hogarth. Laguere was the son of a
Frenchman, who came early in life to England, where he
resided till his death, which took place in 1721. He,
conjointly with Verrio, painted the escaliers and pla-
fonds at Windsor Castle; hence the line in Pope's
"Dunciad:"
" Where sprawl the saints of Yerrio and Laguere."
Laguere the younger was a poet, comedian, musician,
painter, and comic draughtsman, and followed each pro-
fession as necessity or circumstances urged him. He
was considered one of the greatest humorists in the days
of George I. Jack was a conspicuous character in the
palmy times of Bartholomew Fair, and painted for
Bullock, the comedian, "The Siege of Troy," which
* ft News of the Month." London.
IIISTOKICAL SKETCH OF BBITISH CAKICATTTBE. 179
Hogarth afterwards immortalized in one of his ad-
O
mirable prints of this fair. The caricatures of Laguere
are now scarce, and eagerly sought after by collectors
and connoisseurs.
In the latter part of the reign of Greorge II., satirical
packs of cards were common. In one of this kind, there
is a billiard-table depicted on the three of spades, at
which a gentleman is playing with a curved cue. The
inscription beneath is :
" Think not a losing gamester will be fair,
Who at the best ne'er played upon the square."
On the ten of spades, a quack doctor of Moorfields is
portrayed, pointing to his sign:
" To fam'd Moorfields I daily do repair,
Kill worms, cure itch, and make the ladies fair."
On the ace of diamonds a lady is sketched, showing
the palm of her hand to a fortune-teller, with the
inscription :
" How can you hope this gipsy-drab should know
The Fates' decree, or who is made for you ?"
On the four of diamonds, there is a sketch of the inte-
rior of a shop, in which articles of plate are shown on
the shelves. A woman is standing behind the counter,
on which there is a box and dice, and in front are a lad
and a gentleman, who have just thrown. The under-
mentioned lines appear :
" At Empsom of their rafflings I have seen,
But assignations white they chiefly mean."
The wax-works of Mrs. Salmon are entitled to espe-
cial notice, both for their intrinsic merit as well as being
180 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
a sort of school in which Hogarth seems to have first
imbibed his notions of comic art. This lady had her
establishment in Fleet Street, near Chancery Lane. She
displayed her artistic talent in modelling conversational
groups of figures of about six inches in height. Some of
these groups were characterized by great drollery and
humour ; and her house was visited by many of the ablest
and most witty artists of the day. Greorge II., and
many of his court, were in the habit of paying her occa-
sional visits. Hogarth tells us that, when an apprentice,
he frequently loitered at Old Mother Salmon's, " to take
a peep at her humorous productions."
Of Hogarth himself, as a caricaturist, much has been
written. It is not correct to style him the father of
English caricature. There were many artists before him
who displayed great and varied powers of graphic drol-
lery and satire. Neither is he a caricaturist in the
common acceptation of the term. His satire and humour
dealt in generalities. He embodied abstract conceptions,
which will retain an interest during all time. These
were incorporated, unquestionably, with much that was
personal and local ; but the general and abstract greatly
preponderated over the transitory and individual. The
comic talent of Hogarth was slow in attaining its matu-
rity. His first productions gave but faint hopes of his
future celebrity. His " Taste of the Town," " Montraye's
Travels," "Apuleius's Grolden Ass," "Beaver's Military
Punishments," and his " Hudibras," have little that is
original in conception, or excellent in execution. But,
by a steady and vigorous prosecution of his calling, his
genius was gradually developed, and he overtopped all
iriSTOEICAL SKETCH OF BKLTISH CAEICATUEE. 181
his competitors. Prom poverty, which he tells us
pressed close on his footsteps till he was upwards of
thirty years of age, he advanced to comparative opulence.
His "Harlot's Progress," in six plates, was finished
in 1734, and produced a lively interest throughout the
whole country, and even in foreign countries. Then
followed his "Sleeping Congregation," " Southwark Pair,"
" Grin Lane," " Rake's Progress," and many other equally
interesting pieces, too numerous to be here particu-
larized. By assiduous labour and consummate talent, he
earned a lasting fame. He became the artistic historian
and moralist of his country and, indeed, of every coun-
try. At this hour he remains without a rival. His life
is a useful lesson to all future artists. His caricature is
chaste, and he seldom oversteps "the modesty of nature."
He evinced one great and palpable weakness in his cha-
racter he could not endure graphic satire against him-
self. After publishing his "Essay" on Beauty, his
enemies, of whom he had many, set steadily upon him,
and caricatured him in a series of prints, founded on his
peculiar theoretical notions of the beautiful. These hit
him on a tender spot. He took the matter so seriously
to heart, that he is said to have died of complete grief
and mortification, in 1762. The history of comic
and satirical art, both ancient and modern, can fur-
nish similar instances of weakness and irritability of
temper.
It has been a practice with many artistic critics to
lament the state of prostration which British caricature
experienced after the death of Hogarth. This regret is
.somewhat misapplied. Hogarth, as we have already said,
182 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
was a caricaturist of a general stamp of a cosmopolitan
order. He personified abstract ideas for purposes of
moral teaching, and certainly after his death left none
behind him as rivals in this special vocation. But the
caricature of the day the light, sportive, witty, and
graphic lampoon, made for the hour, and to do its work,
and die did not suffer by the demise of this great artist.
On the contrary, there arose after him, and close upon
his decease, a numerous host of comic artists, all more or
less men of wit and pictorial skill in matters of fun and
drollery. Most of their productions, it is true, are now
forgotten ; but they were intended to be so. They were
created for. the moment they executed their mission
and thus fulfilled all that their authors aimed at or
desired.
Collet was contemporary with Hogarth, and a designer
of humorous subjects. He was the son of a gentleman
in one of the government offices at Whitehall. The
younger Collet had ample pecuniary means of his own, and
practised caricature as an amateur. In one of the pre-
sidential lectures given to the Eoyal Academicians, about
the commencement of the present century, it is said that
Collet's productions "were less satirical than narrative,
more ludicrous than witty, and oftentimes dispensing
without conveying any moral instruction." This may,
perhaps, be generally correct ; but certain it is, his abili-
ties were far beyond an average, for we know that many
of his graphic pieces of humour were taken to be
Hogarth's, of whose style and artistic spirit he was a
most successful imitator. " The Amorous Thief, or the
Lover's Larceny," and " The Bachelor's Ball," are two
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CABICATURE. 183
of Collet's best pieces, and display a refined humour and
pungent wit.
Vandrebank, though but a painter of mediocre abili-
ties, enjoyed great fame for his comic sketches. Lord
Cartaret preferred him to Hogarth himself. This, how-
ever, was an instance of bad taste and judgment. His
lordship employed Vandrebank to illustrate a Spanish
edition of Don Quixote, which was published by Tonson
in 1738. These illustrative sketches were failures ; but
this was no wonder. The difficulties of entering into
the humour of such a work as Cervantes', are almost in-
superable . This artist designed some electioneering squibs
with great effect. Indeed his humour was original, and
he was very fertile in invention. His productions are
now rare, and of considerable value.
" A Political and Satirical History of the years 1756,
1757, 1758, 1759, 1760, in series of one hundred and four
humorous and entertaining prints." In this work the
gaming propensities of Lord Anson, the circimmavigator,
a member of the then administration, are severely hit off.
He is figured as a sea-lion, with the tail of a fish. In one
hand he holds a dice-box, and in the other a pack of cards.
He figures as the Knave of Diamonds. In the Jcey to
the publication, the noble lord is thus denounced : " This
caricatura's propensity to gaming tells us at once how
valuable he must be to a shipwrecked state, and that he
deserves (like a drunken pilot in a storm) to be thrown
overboard, to make room for one of clearer brains and
more integrity." The Knave of Spades is inscribed
" Mbnsr. Dupe" which the Jcey says expresses " how
much this caricatura was connected with our enemies,
184 OLD PACES ITS NEW MASKS.
and was even a dupe to turn against the interests of his
country." The Knave of Hearts has a fox's Jiead, which
we are told " infers, by the sharpness of the nose, that
craft and subtility which is natural to creatures of a
similar kind, known by the name of Poxes, and is here
pointed out as a knave. The Knave of Clubs is depicted
with a broken club in his hand, and inscribed "Null
Marriage." "This caricatura was esteemed the most
atrocious knave in the pack, and the worst of the black
sort." In plate ninety, for 1759, most of the political
characters of the day are depicted as court-cards. The
King of Hearts, as G-eorge II. ; the Queen, Britannia ;
Knave, Pitt ; King of Diamonds, King of Prussia ; Queen,
the City of London; Knave, Prince Ferdinand ; King of
Spades, King of Poland ; Queen, the Queen of Hungary;
Knave, Holland; the King of Clubs, Prance; Queen,
G-allia ; Knave, Marshal Eraglie.
The Countess of Burlington had a lively and refined
taste for caricature. She employed her pencil in lashing
the two parties of fashionable life that were engaged in
her day in low and petty quarrels about the management
of the Opera House. She is supposed to have sketched
the print, afterwards etched by Monsieur Groupy, in
which Parinelli and Cuzzoni are singing a duet. Parin?lli
figures in the character of a prisoner chained by the
little finger, A personage in the background is giving
utterance to the following lines :
" Thou tuneful scarecrow, and thou warbling bird,
No shelter for your notes these lands afford.
This town protects no more the sing-song strain,
Whilst balls and masquerades triumphant reign."
IIISTOEICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CARICATURE. 185
The noble countess is likewise considered the sketcher
of a plate which represents Handel, the famous musical
composer, and who was noted for his gourmandizing habits,
with the head of a pig, seated at an organ, from the front
of which were suspended turkies, geese, hams, sausages,
and many other epicurean luxuries.
Benoist was a foreign artist, and cotemporary with
the preceding caricaturists. He lived in Covent Garden,
and is described as a man of lively wit and of a good-
humoured jocularity. His droll productions are nume-
rous ; the best known of which is his " Scold Miserables,"
nearly four feet in length, the satire of which is levelled
against the different lodges of freemasons, in their several
public processions. This print gave rise to the famous
mock procession of masonry, got up by Whitehead and
Gary, and which created so much merriment in London,
in 1742.
Leroux was a fellow labourer with Benoist, and was
chiefly employed by Bowles, of Cornhill, in the execution
of the various pieces of graphic humour which regularly
flowed from this well-known emporium of fun and frolic.
There were, indeed, a whole phalanx of caricaturists con-
nected more or less with Leroux and Benoist, who were
chiefly engaged in satirical sketches of the times and
manners of the hour. The names of the principal of these
are G-eorge Bickham, Vanderglucht, Boitard, Gravelot,
and Mason. They severally produced many laughable
frontispieces for humorous books and pamphlets. Mathew
Parly, of Hungerford Market, had likewise a regular
.staff" of comic sketchers, who exercised their talents on
the political events of the day. The entire collection of
186 OLD FACES Iff ffEW MASKS.
prints which issued from Darly's mart, furnishes a tole-
rably correct graphic history of the governmental move-
ments and party contests which characterized the period
of the great Lord Chatham, and the favourite minister of
George III., the Earl of Bute.
Henry William Bunbury was an ingenious carica-
turist, and entitled to rank among the first of this class
of artists. He was the son of Sir William. Bunbury, of
Middlehall, Suffolk. Young Bunbury took up the art
of comic sketching without any previous instructions in
drawing ; and the great surprise has always been that he
succeeded so admirably in hitting off the peculiarities of
character, and in keeping them from running into exagge-
ration or burlesque. Sir Joshua Reynolds greatly admired
his caricatures. Bunbury published his able volume of
drawings, entitled " Directions for Bad Horsemen," which
amused both town and country for many a year. His
natural taste was exquisite, for almost everything he did
bore the stamp of great delicacy of perception, and a rigid
adherence to the established canons of artistic criticism.
The Marquis Townshend had such an adroit and con-
summate skill in comic sketching that many considered
him equal to Bunbury. In early life the marquis was in
the army, but having severely caricatured the Duke of
Cumberland, a stop was put to his further promotion.
One of the most happy of the noble artist's designs, and
the best known, is his sketch of a well-known physician,
who practised the warming system. This print made a
great noise among the medical profession in London.
His "Doctor Spindle and Miss Maria Mincemeat," was
another notable squib on an Irish practitioner of note.
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CARICATURE. 187
The marquis's own portrait was taken by a brother
caricaturist, who hit off his peculiarities in the most
happy manner. The sketch had the two following lines
appended to it :
" Arm'd at both points, unless you keep aloof,
With sword or pencil he can take you off."
We find in a work entitled " A Critical Enquiry re-
garding the real Author of the Letters of Junius," by
George Coventry, London, 1825, the following observa-
tions : " Soon after the unfortunate misunderstanding
at Mincleii, Lord George Townshend (who had formerly
been on friendly terms with Lord Greorge Sackville, par-
ticularly at the Battle of Dettingen) joined with the
court party in publicly censuring his conduct. He had
an ingenious turn for drawing, and he even went so far
as to caricature Lord Greorge flying from Minden, which,
with many others, he privately circulated among his
friends. This book of caricatures, bearing date from 1756
to 1762, is extremely curious. As they were privately
distributed, they are, of course, seldom to be met with.
I never saw but one complete set, now in possession of
W. Little, Esq., of Richmond, who has obligingly allowed
me to copy the one in question." We have Lord Orford's
testimony to prove that this book was the production of
Lord George Townshend. Lord Orford has described
the first of the series, vol. ii. p. 28, " A new species of
this manufacture now first appeared, invented by Lord
George Townshend; they were caricatures on cards.
The original one, which had amazing vent, was of New-
castle and Fox, looking at each other, and crying with
188 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Peachum, in the Beggar's Opera, ' Brother, brother, we
are both in the wrong !' On the Royal Exchange a paper
was affixed, advertising ' Three kingdoms to be let, inquire
of Andrew Stone, broker, in Lincoln's Inn Fields.' The
whole series forms a curious collection. Those on Lord
George Sackville were very severe."
In April 1757, Horace "Walpole writes to Sir Horace
Mann thus :
" Pamphlets, cards, and prints swarm again. George
Townshend has published one of the latter, which is
so admirable in its kind, that I cannot help sending it
to you. His genius for likenesses in caricature is
astonishing; indeed, Lord "Wmchelsea's figure is not
heightened ; your friends, Dodington and Lord Sand-
wich, are like ; the former made me laugh till I cried.
The Hanoverian drummer, Ellis, is the least like, though
it has much of his air. I need say nothing of the lump
of fat, crowned with laurel, on the altar. As Towns-
hend's parts lie entirely in his pencil, his pen has no
share in them ; the labels are very dull, except the
inscription on the altar, which, I believe, is his brother
Charles's. This print, which has so diverted the town,
has produced to-day a most bitter pamphlet against
George Townshend, called the ' Art of Political Lying.'
Indeed, it is strong."
The caricature here alluded to, was called " The
Eecruiting Sergeant," and ridiculed Pox's abortive
schemes to constitute a ministry.
Captain Grose was an amateur professor of caricature
and comic design, and the author of a short but imper-
fect " Essay on the Principles of Humorous Etching."
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CARICATURE. 189
Paul Sanby caricatured Hogarth himself in the most
pungent manner, as well as many of the artist's intimate
friend^ and associates. Some of the episcopal clergy
likewise entered the lists as comic designers at this
period. The Eev. Mr. Bareblock, a fellow of one of the
colleges in Oxford, and who had a lucrative church living
in Essex, was well known for his spirited caricatures. It
is said he was the designer of "Justice Buttonhole" a
print that brought the engraver, Baldwin, within the
grip of the law ; and he paid the penalty by six months'
imprisonment. There was another member of the Esta-
blished Church well known for his talents for the comic,
whose sketches used to be exhibited at Mother Dawson's,
the fruiteress, in Dean's Yard, "Westminster.
The early editions of Pope's "Dunciad" were embel-
lished with comic representations of great talent. In
one etching we have an ass, bearing on its back the
works of "Welsted, "Ward, Dennis, Theobald, Haywood,
and others, with a number of the most noted journals of
the day. In " Gray's Fables " there were many able
caricatures; and in the "Political Eegister," in' six
volumes, there are a considerable number of caricatural
sketches of much wit and humour. In the " Oxford
Magazine" there were likewise a number of spirited
designs, chiefly levelled against the manner in which
the higher clergy treated their more poor and humble
brethren.
Kingsbury was a comic artist of reputation. His
produstlons give evidence of much refined wit, and are
now highly sought after by collectors. Captain Tatham,
a military gentleman, was a zealous and able carica-
190 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
turist. His pieces display great spirit and life. They
are chiefly directed against the stage. Mr. B,ushworth,
a barrister, was also an amateur designer of comic
sketches. He took the fashions of the day for his pecu-
liar field of action. These were very grotesque and
outre at this period (1780), and afforded ample room
for the artist's genius. Wicksteed was a seal engraver,
and lived in Henrietta Street, Covent Grarden. He was
a man of a fierce satirical cast of mind, but evinced great
ingenuity in all his productions. One Mathew Dawson
kept a small shop in the vicinity of London Bridge, and
sold caricatures, chiefly devoted to city politics and
parties. Some of these fugitive pieces are very humor-
ous, and must have told sharply on the parties against
whom they were levelled. Dawson was twice imprisoned
for graphic libels on some city functionaries. We have
seen above a hundred representations sold by Dawson,
but none had any of the designers' signatures to them.
"We speak only from apocryphal authority ; but the
names of the persons he employed were Hall, Osborne,
and Grill, of any of whom we have not been able to
learn anything.
Mr. Byron, a lieutenant of the navy, was a grotesque
and satirical sketcher of acknowledged merit. Mr.
Austin, a teacher of drawing, became a political carica-
turist of considerable notoriety. A piece called the
"Royal Society" excited public attention, and was re-
dolent of fun and joyous conviviality. Phillips appeared
on the graphic stage about the same time, and displayed
great wit and drollery in his sketches. The best known
of his productions is, " The Dissolution ; or a Young
HISTORICAL SKETCH 03? BRITISH CARICATURE. 191
Grocer making a Palatable Punch for his Company."
The young minister is represented as squeezing the heads
of Fox and North (as lemons), into a copious china
bowl ; and the House of Commons is laughably depicted
as an immense sugar-loaf. The punch-maker is exclaim-
ing, "Thus I dissolve ye! thus, thy parts being dis-
united, the effects will be the less pernicious to my
constitution."
Art itself, in all its phases, often became a subject
for graphic satire in this century. The Elgin Marbles
were ridiculed ; several modern sculptors were depicted
in no very flattering attitudes ; and the Royal Academy
was held up to derision by Bonnell Thornton, in his
" Exhibition of Sign Painters." Sir Joshua Reynolds
became the object of comic sketches, descriptive of
several of the artistic dodges he was accused of using in
the execution of his pictures. It has been said that Sir
Joshua sent a present of fifty pounds to one of his
satirical enemies, on hearing he was in straitened cir-
cumstances. Whether this timely douceur mollified the
bitterness of the caricaturist, we are not informed.
In the latter section of the last century, Darling's
shop, in Newport Street, St. Martin's Lane, was a noted
emporium for comic prints. There were always on sale
a great number of graphic oddities, more or less satirical
of living characters. What were called the " Bourgeois
Macaronies " were of this stamp. Soubise, a black man,
under the protection of the Duchess of Queensbury
and Old Laurington, who kept a noted billiard-table at
Windsor, well known to the Etonians and men about
court, was caricatured in this shop very smartly. Who
192 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
the artists of these pieces were is not ascertained ; but
they were more than usually popular in their day.
Edy was a clergyman of eccentric habits, and a keen
political humorist with the pencil. He had a rival in
another member of the church, who went under the
name of " Jemmy Twitcher." The latter was in the
habit of satirizing the more free-living members of the
aristocracy, and members of the government and the
church. His sketches were severely felt at the time ;
and he was more t than once punished for libel, and his
church living, of considerable value, threatened to be
taken from him. A clergyman of the name of Eates
sketched a number of prints descriptive of some of the
bishops of his day.*i These were all executed sul rosa.
Pox's propensity to gambling was a constant theme
on which the artists of the day exercised their pencils.
He is often depicted at the card-table, in company with
Lords Bath, Sidmouth, and Dundas. Underneath one
of the caricatures are the following lines, alluding to
Pox's insatiable fury for gambling, and his general ill-
luck :
" In gaming, indeed, he's the stoutest of cocks,
No man will play deeper than this Mr. Fox.
If he touches a card if he rattles a box,
Away fly the guineas of this Mr. Fox.
He has met, I'm afraid, with so many hard knocks,
That cash is not plenty with this Mr. Fox,."
"We are told that Burke and Pox once entered into a
warm debate, at the residence of the late Lord Holland,
on the question as to who had been subjected to the
most numerous and annoying caricatures. After a long
discussion, Pox carried off the prize. This statesman
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BEITISH CAKICATUBE. 193
lias left upon record his testimony of the powerful in-
fluence of comic sketches on the public feeling of the
day. He says : " After the appearance of the carica-
tures on the question, I had no hopes of carrying the
India Bill."
JSTo British minister was ever lampooned with so many
caricatures as Pitt. To enumerate them would fill the
space of a small volume. His personal habits were often
attacked by the graphic artists, especially his fondness
for the bottle. One of the best sketches is called " Un-
corking Old Sherry" (alluding to the debate on the
Begency Bill, when he made some remarks that excited
the wrath of Sheridan), which represents Pitt uncorking
a bottle, and completely inundated with the sparkling
and effervescing contents. The bloated countenance and
fiery nose of Sheridan is seen through the foam. Ap-
pended to the piece we have the minister described, in
dog Latin, thus: " Warcarryonissimus, taxgatherissimus,
vinum guzzleando potentissimus, prettygirlibus indif-
ferentissimus, et filius bitcha3 damnatissimus."
The Eev. James Douglas was a clerical caricaturist of
merit and popularity. His productions are now scarce.
Mr. Gibbon, the historian, was deeply offended by one
of the artist's etchings of his Tiead. This was extremely
comic, and yet the resemblance was admirably preserved.
Underneath is the phrase, " The Luminous Historian."
Dr. Johnson and Mr. Boswell felt the heavy hand of
Collins and others. It is somewhat curious, but there
has long prevailed a suspicion that the doctor's intimate
friend and admirer, Sir Joshua Eeynolds, who painted his
picture, gave a decided touch of the caricatural to it.
o
194 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
The great painter depicts the essayist peering with a
single eye, with his nose close upon the page of a black-
letter book. This gave offence to the author, for when
a lady complimented him on obtaining a portrait from
such a distinguished artist, the doctor angrily replied,
"~VVhy should he transmit me to posterity as blind
Sam?"
In 1782 Dr. Johnson was severely caricatured in re-
lation to his literary character. In one print he is de-
picted as an owl, sitting on his "Lives of the Poets."
The title of the print is " Old "Wisdom Blinking at the
Stars."
De Loutherbourg was happy in his caricatures, and
succeeded in exciting the risibility of the London people
to a high degree. His single figures were universally
admired for their pungency and originality. Dent and
Conde were likewise popular artists in comic designs.
They realized considerable sums of money by their pro-
fession. Biagio Eebecca devoted himself to sketching
the frivolities and absurdities of his day, in which line he
had scarcely any rival.
James Sayer was an artist of comic renown, the son
of a captain-merchant of Yarmouth, and was educated as
an attorney. But he soon left the law, and commenced
song writer and caricaturist. Displaying great talent,
the ministry of the day enlisted him on their side, and he
annoyed the opposition with his pungent sketches of their
defects and shortcomings. He was patronized by William
Pitt and other influential members of the government ;
and early in his career obtained the profitable situation
of marshal of the Court of Exchequer, and receiver of
IIISTOKICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CARICATURE. 195
the sixpenny duties, which enabled him to pass his life
in comfortable affluence. His best piece was a parody
on Milton's passage descriptive of the fallen angels. He
sketches Eox as the political Satan, surrounded by his
fallen coadjutors Lords Portland, Carlisle, Cavendish,
Keppel, and North, and likewise of Edmund Burke. Pox
speaks a word of encouragement to his disconsolate
friends; he,
*-' With high, words that bore
Semblance of worth, not substance, gently raised
Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears."
Nixon was a graphic wit of reputation, and was so
quick with his pencil that he could take a good likeness
from a few hasty scratches. Cotemporary with him was
G-eorge Moutard Woodward, commonly called Mustard
George. He first tried his skill at caricature in the
country; but this being too confined a sphere for his
genius and ambition, he repaired to London. He says
himself, " A caricaturist in a country town, like a mad
bull in a china-shop, cannot step without noise; so,
having made a little noise in my native place, I persuaded
my father to let me seek my fortune in town." He was
for many years a constant guest at the Brown Bear,
Covent Garden, where he was enabled to draw from life
those low characters, and well-known officers of Bow
Street, which he delighted to sketch. His wit and in-
vention were unrivalled in his own peculiar walk of
comic art.
"We come now, though a little out of strict chrono-
logical order, to a conspicuous landmark in the history of
English caricature the appearance of John Gilray, a
196 OLD FACES Itf NEW MASKS.
man who stands unrivalled at this hour, either in this or
any other country, for the richness of his comic inven-
tion. He engrossed the attention of the British people
from 1779 till 1810, with a constant succession of the
most able caricatures. He served his apprenticeship to
an engraver, and displayed an early genius for the bur-
lesque and satirical. His first patron was Mr. Holland,
in Drury Lane. The long career of Gilray displays un-
paralleled powers of creative invective, and a constant
watchfulness of public events and feeling. No legislative
measure was allowed to pass without receiving the signa-
ture of his graphic pencil. Not long after the com-
mencement of his labours, the French Revolution of
1789 broke out. This event, in all its marvellous and
hideous phases, and the corresponding excitement on
the subject in England, afforded ample scope for his
powerful imagination. He laboured incessantly in ren-
dering the Trench movements atrocious in the eyes of
English people. He paints the sans-culottes as a band of
savages, greedily feeding on the mangled remains of their
victims. This artist carried his fierceness against the
revolution into all his descriptions of public characters
in Great Britain who sympathized with the political
movements in Paris. He clothes Burke, and Fox, and
Sheridan, and Priestly, in the costume of the National
Assembly, and designates them as revolutionists of the
worst class.
To scan in detail the numerous productions of this
singular man, is beyond our limits. They are now pub-
lished in a collective form, accompanied with appropriate
and explanatory letter-press. Suffice it to say, Grilray's
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CARICATURE. 197
style of drawing was of a bold and dashing character.
He was naturally fond of the rugged and jagged inhuman
life. The soft and sentimental he despised ; and loved
to grapple with the vicious, the eccentric, the bitter, and
the grotesque. He was occasionally, however, quite
sportive in his humour. All his sketches possess great
force and skill, and display an endless invention. He
lived in very excitable times, and undoubtedly exercised
a powerful influence on the general current of political
opinion, both in his own country and in foreign states.
He died in 1815.
In 1797, caricature medals were very common in
England, and were issued both by Reformers and Tories.
There was a great political gathering at Guy's Cliff, near
Warwick, for parliamentary reform, under the auspices
of Bertie Greathead, Esq., which was commemorated by
a medal. This was soon parodied by another from the
loyal party, on which was depicted the devil holding three
halters over the heads of the demagogues. On one side
of the medal the "wrong heads " are applauding, and on
the other, the " right heads " are manifesting their dis-
gust and horror.
An immense number of caricatures were circulated,
during the last ten years of the termination of the last
century, on fashions, both male and female, the balloon
mania, gambling, masquerades, the opera and its abuses,
the stage, the O. P. riots, the picnics, the Shakespeare
mania, Eoy dell's Shakespeare Gallery, art, literature, and
science, Peter Pindar, painters, Eozzy and Piozzi, etc.
Uowlandson commenced his career as a caricaturist a
few years previous to the beginning of the present ceil-
198 OLD FACES IK NEW MASKS.
tury. He was an artist of great but eccentric power,
and his drawing had much of the vulgar and rustic ah out
it. In 1802 he successfully caricatured the ratification
of peace between Prance and England, in a sketch which,
it is said, Napoleon was so amused -with that he ordered
copies of it to be framed for the palaces of Versailles and
St. Cloud. This good understanding between the graphic
satirist and the Emperor was only of short duration. In
the subsequent portraitures of this military chief, E/ow-
landson invariably depicted him in the most degrading
forms and attitudes. The artist gained great popularity
from satirizing the manners and customs of the Dutch
nation, as well as those of the Parisians. His Dutch and
Flemish sketches are especially witty and amusing. He
was in the habit, when in the Low Countries, of rambling
about in all the obscure and unfrequented localities in
Antwerp, Amsterdam, and other cities, and collecting
everything odd and out of the ordinary course of social
life. These he preserved, and turned to good account.
He was an artist of great industry, and of surprising
rapidity of execution. It has been maintained by some
critics, that he sketched more scenes and figures in an
off-hand way than any dozen of his cotemporaries, and
that he etched more plates than any artist, ancient or
modern. He died in 1825.
"We may notice, in passing, two English graphic
artists, who gained celebrity in foreign countries for
their witty and grotesque sketches of life and man-
ners. Thomas Petworth, a native of Devonshire, left
England about the middle of the last century, and went
to Italy. He took up his permanent residence at Some,,
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BEITISII CAKICATURE. 199
where he was extensively known for his caricatural
ability. He was chiefly employed in furnishing grotesque
and whimsical devices for ecclesiastical buildings; and
the fertility of his invention, and the purity of his taste,
were universally admitted, even by his Italian contem-
poraries. Many of his caricatural sketches were pub-
lished after his death, in one large folio volume, accom-
panied with a short biographical narrative of him. Prom
this it would appear that Petworth's genius for ridicule
brought upon him some trouble. The ecclesiastical
authorities of the See of Rome cited him before the
Court, which sentenced the comic artist to three months'
imprisonment, a fine of small amount, and added a severe
and pointed admonition that Petworth should be very
circumspect in the use of his pencil for the future.
Frederick Hill served his apprenticeship as an engra-
ver in London, and, when about twenty-two years of
age, went over to Holland, where he was, for several
years, actively engaged in both drawing and engraving
ludicrous and caricatural prints for the London market.
Differing with his employers in Amsterdam, he went to
Cologne, where he took some unwarrantable liberties
with the public functionaries of the town, and had, in
consequence, to take flight at night, and seek shelter in
some of the free cities of Germany. He ultimately,
however, took up his abode at Vienna, where he lived
by sketching witty and grotesque things. But giving
himself up to a life of intemperance, he committed
suicide in 1788. Dutch artists speak highly of his comic
talents.
We must now cast a cursory glance at the caricature
200 OLD FACES I1ST NEW MASKS.
of Scotland ; this is but scanty in amount, and local in
character. There was one singular case of graphic satire
in Edinburgh in 1701. Two men, a designer and an
engraver, were tried for high treason, for executing a re-
presentation having an alleged tendency to bring the
general government into contempt. This piece simply
depicted the African Company in London, and some of
its leading commercial measures, in a somewhat ludicrous
manner. Eor this the two comic artists ran a great risk
of being hanged and quartered. Luckily, however, a
verdict of not guilty was recorded ; but they were again
tried for the same offence on another indictment, and
subjected to a twelve months' imprisonment in Edinburgh
Castle. The obnoxious plates, and all the copies taken
from them, were likewise ordered to be burnt by the
common hangman at the public cross of the city. "We
have greatly advanced, as a nation, in the path of justice
and liberty, since this mock-tragedy was acted.
David Allan, called the Scottish Hogarth, deserves
notice as a caricaturist of great wit and comic power.
He displayed this sarcastic and burlesque genius when
quite a boy at school. It was at Home that he sketched
and painted his four famous pictures, which are striking
caricatures of the follies of the Romish Carnival, as
witnessed in the Capitol. Allan did not, however, per-
severe in the comic line, but devoted his time to serious
subjects. In Edinburgh, John Kay, a few years ago,
exercised his satirical and facetious pencil with consider-
able effect. His representations of most of the social
oddities of his native city, in all ranks of life, have been
collected in two volumes, accompanied with ably- written
IIISTOEICAL SKETCH OF BEITISH CAEICATUBE. 201
notices, by James Maidman, Esq., advocate, Edinburgh.
G-eikie was likewise a comic sketcher of this city, of con-
siderable genius. He was totally deaf, but early in life
displayed a great aptness for comic drawing. His col-
lection of etchings have been recently published. Crombie
was another caricatural genius of Edinburgh, and the
sketcher of the "Modern Athenians," a work which
consists of comic portraits of many of the most eminent
and eccentric members of the Scottish Church, the bar,
and the medical profession.
~We must now draw our remarks into a narrow com-
pass, with a brief notice of modern caricaturing in
England. This is a subject which has been often ably
dwelt upon, but is still far from being exhausted. It
would take a volume itself to do it justice. "Within the
last thirty years numerous comic artists have made their
appearance, and obtained great and well-merited public
commendation for their ingenious labours. In point of
wit, invention, taste, delicacy, and accuracy of design,
the artists of the present day are far superior to the
general run of those who had hitherto preceded them in
the same profession. "We can only now offer a formal
enumeration of some of those who have gained and are
still daily before the public eye undying laurels for
their exuberant drollery and pungent satire.
Isaac Cruikshank, the father of the present famous
Mr. Greorge Cruikshank, entered the arena of comic
sketching about the same time with Rowlandson. Isaac
became a worshipper of Pitt, whom he represents, in one
of his pieces, as the royal extinguisher putting out the
flame of sedition. His son George has become more
202 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
celebrated than his parent. G-eorge published a series of
caricatures fora publication called " The Scourge," before
he had attained his twentieth year. He afterwards
became connected with Mr. William Hone, and etched
all the famous caricatures and burlesques for the " Poli-
tical House that Jack Built," " The Man in the Moon,"
" The Political Showman," and " Non Hi Eicordo." The
satire conveyed in these pictorial productions was of the
bitterest kind. We cannot enumerate a hundredth part
of his publications. Suffice it to say, that he has attained
great excellence, and secured a fame that will endure for
many centuries. It is a signal honour to him, that his
talents have never been abused to any base or sordid
purpose.
The caricatures of H. B. are well known. The author
of them is said to be a Mr. Doyle, father of the artist of
the same name, who was one of the chief contributors to
the early volumes of Punch. The political sketches of
H. B. display great wit, taste, and comic humour.
Bichard Doyle is an artist of great repute, and his
sportive and graceful designs of the manners of the
day have attracted a considerable share of public atten-
tion. Mr. John Leech has likewise evinced a genuine
caricatural genius. His sketches in Punch, and his
" Pictures of Life and Character," have extended his
reputation far and wide. Hablot K. Brown and Mr.
Forrester are likewise caricaturists of considerable note.
Of late years Punch has been the chief political
caricaturist in Great Britain. Its various artistic pro-
ductions are too well known to be particularly dwelt
upon here. We only give expression to the general
HISTOEICAL SKETCH OF BRITISH CAEICATURE. 203
opinion of Englishmen when we say that the caricatural
and burlesque department of this notable periodical has
displayed unrivalled genius, and that it has been mainly
through its pictorial influence that the great popularity
of the publication has maintained its ground for so many
years.
In conclusion, we would simply remark, that carica-
ture displays the general state of manners and refinement
of a people. It portrays the humours and peculiarities,
and even the vices, of an age, and distinguishes the rude-
ness and delicacy of the public feeling in reference to all
that is enjoyed or pursued. If society is rude ; if tastes
and entertainments are coarse and indelicate; if low
humour, or wit, or pointed conceits prevail; or if de-
cency, vivacity, genuine wit and humour do not charac-
terize the ordinary intercourse of social life caricature
will certainly partake of the qualities of its age, and will
be less entitled to regard and commendation.
In the graphic art of caricature we recognize the
same general principles of criticism that regulate both
genteel and broad comedy. Every grotesque effort of the
pencil must present a unity of representation. It must
tell one tale. All its parts must harmonize, to produce
the intended effect upon the imagination of the public.
There must be nothing extraneous nothing out of keep-
ing nothing beyond the bounds of propriety and fitness.
The general aim of the caricaturist is to exhibit pictures
of human life to ridicule follies and singularities, whe-
ther in character, manner, opinion, or conduct. To effect
this a set of rules are indispensable, in order that the
several ingredients of the picture may be duly balanced,
204 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
and the chief, purpose of the artist produced : the suc-
cessful ridicule of all that is vain, affected, pompous, and
outre in manner or physical conformation. There is a
proper limit to caricature. It must not trespass on the
tragical or solemn, nor on the constitutionally serious
and grave. There are thousands of things in human
conduct and demeanour which will not bear to be laughed
at, nor subjected to lightness and humour. The graphic
pencil of the humorist must never presume to repre-
hend those crimes, or to excite those passions about
which the moralist or divine or tragic poet are exclu-
sively conversant. He must confine his operations to
the sense of shame, which deters men from performing
what may render them contemptible or foolish in the
eyes of the world. By exposing only singularities, or
the lighter vices or fallacies of mankind, he is almost
certain of reforming them to a certain extent. He is
occasionally privileged to assail positive crimes, when
they are of such a nature that ridicule can be success-
fully brought to bear upon them, either by the peculiar
oddity of their nature, or some whimsical circumstances
attending their perpetration. But this license requires
the most delicate artistic management. Whatever pro-
duces seriousness of emotion is, more or less, destructive
of real caricatural effect. The main task of all caricature,
or comic designs, consists in the natural representation
of manners and characters not of the most perfect kind.
The talent of the comic draughtsman aims at whatever
requires humour ; the subjects on which it is employed
are the foibles, the caprices, and the violent and variable
passions of men. Caricature nourishes where there is a
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BEITISH CAKICATUEE. 205
plentiful crop of eccentricities and follies, and where all
the various vanities and whimsicalities of human nature
are left freely to expand themselves, and blossom without
control. All caricatural achievements require a variety
of character ; and whatever overwhelms the caprices and
eccentric movements of men, is unfavourable to it.
Caricature is a versatile and multiform thing. It
appears in many shapes, many attitudes, many garbs,
and is so variously apprehended that it is difficult for the
eyes and the judgment to settle upon a definite notion
of it. It is as difficult to define as the portrait of
Proteus, or the figure of the fleeting air. Its" force lies
sometimes in telling a story, sometimes in an apt and
seasonable application of a trivial incident or saying, or
in an imaginary tale. Sometimes it riots in whimsical
outlines and figures, or is wrapped up in a humorous
dress, which greatly tickles the fancy without communi-
cating anything very decided or tangible. "We have
caricature sometimes taking a bold stand ; sometimes it
is seen lurking under an odd similitude or ambiguously-
drawn figure. Sometimes it expresses irony, sometimes
it is all hyperbole ; now it is startling, then quizzical and
droll. Its influence upon the mass of mankind is un-
accountable and inexplicable, being varied by the infinite
rovings of the fancy, and the intricate windings and em-
bodiments of whimsical and grotesque associations. It
is at all times and seasons fertile in amusing the fancy,
in stirring up the faculty of curiosity, and in imparting
a highly pleasureable state of mind. It is the result of
quickness of parts, remote conceits, briskness of humour,
and sportive flashes of imagination.
206 OLD FACES IN 1STEW MASKS.
A EEW WORDS ON PIKE.
SOME writers have maintained that the Greeks were
unacquainted with the pike. It is certain it is seldom
mentioned ; but there is one Greek dramatist, Solades,
who, in one of his comedies, says :
" After this I bought a splendid pike,
To boil in pickle with all sorts of herbs."
Whether the fish figures in early Roman history is like-
wise a matter of doubt. The first distinct mention we
have. of it is from the pages of Ausonius, who flourished
about the second century of our era. Prom this period,
however, we find the pike often noticed ; and during
some portions of the middle ages, it was both an object
of keen piscatory sport and superstitious veneration.
The pike is found in great quantities in most of the
fresh-water lakes and still-running rivers in Europe, and
indeed in almost every quarter of the globe. It often
attains a considerable size. We have ourselves seen one
in the London market sixty-nine and a-half pounds'
weight, which had been caught in the Rhine. Erom
thirty to forty pounds is by no means an uncommon
weight of a fish in English ponds and rivers. Eleazer
Block gives an account of a pike caught in 1497, near
Mannheim, in G-ermany, which was nineteen feet in
length, and weighed three hundred and fifty pounds.
A FEW WORDS ON PIKE. 207
His skeleton was preserved in the university museum of
this town, and, if we are not misinformed, is still there.
This fish carried round its neck a ring of gilded brass,
which could enlarge itself by springs, and which had
been placed round it by Frederick Barbarossa, two
hundred and sixty-seven years before. Pike breed in
the months of March, April, and May, in most countries
in Europe, and they then seek out some deep and quiet
haunts, where they may deposit their spawn. They are
then said to be very lazy, and may often be captured by
the hand. September and October are the two best
months for taking them ; but there are pike in excellent
condition caught in France, in November, December,
and January. They are said to change their colour very
much, according to the complexion of the water which
they inhabit. When taken in clear and rapid-running
rivers, they are uniformly of a brighter and more brilliant
hue than when found in deep and dark-coloured lakes
and ponds. The river and running- water fish are like-
wise decidedly finer in flavour than those caught in still
and deep lakes.
The voracity of the pike is one of its striking charac-
teristics. Many singular stories have been told about
its habits in this respect. Johiannes de Mediolanus,
who wrote his Regimen Sanatus Salerni, in 1099, men-
tions the fish thus :
"Among our fish the pike is king of all,
In water none is more tyrannical."
A French author, in giving an account of a curious
dream which one of the early French kings had about
208 OLD FACES IN" NEW MASKS.
fish, there is a description, in verse, of many of the fish he
thought he saw ; and of the pike he says :
" Yet, sooth to say, I scarce could brook,
The pike's intense and greedy look."
At the siege of Silistria the pike of the Danube were
observed to feed voraciously on the putrid bodies of the
Turks and Russians that were cast into that river. A
singular instance of the rapaciousness of this fish
occurred in France a few years ago. In one of the
large lakes near Arras, in the Pas de Calais, a horse in
a pasture field ventured to take a drink at the edge of
water, when he was seized by the lip by a huge pike,
which fixed its teeth so firmly in the flesh of the animal,
that, after afew desperate struggles,he succeeded in throw-
ing it, by a toss of his head, on the land ; but it was many
hours after before the horse was discovered by some
countrymen, when they found the fish dead, but still
hanging at the mouth of the poor animal, which appeared
to be in great agony. The fish weighed thirty-nine
pounds.
On the various modes of capturing the pike, our
ordinary fishing-books give a pretty full account. We
shall not refer to any of these, but content ourselves
with noticing one or two methods not generally known.
An ancient writer of the sixth century tells us that it was
customary in some of the large lakes or lagoons in Italy,
and other countries in the south of Europe, to fish for
the pike in the following manner : The fisher fixes upon
a spot favourable for his purpose, at the bend of some head-
land of a lake, and lets down where he stands on the
A FEW WORDS ON PIKE. 209
high bank some cubits' length of the intestines of a sheep,
which, getting spread about in the water, from its
motion, is presently seen by the fish, one of which adven-
turously seizes hold of the nether end of the bait, and
endeavours to drag the whole away. The fisherman per-
ceiving this, applies the other end of the intestine,
which is fixed to a long tubular reed, that serves for a
fishing-rod, to his mouth, and blows through it into the
gut. This presently swells, and the fish next receiving the
air into his mouth swells too, and being unable to extricate
its teeth, is lugged out to land, adhering to the inflated
intestine. A somewhat curious and original method of
fishing for pike was followed about the latter end of last
century by Colonel Thornton. He made use of pieces
of cork of a conical form, and having several of these
all differently painted, and named after different hounds,
trifling wagers were made of their success. This
the Colonel called fishing withfox-hoimds. The mode of
baiting these cork lines was by placing a live fish of some
kind at the end of them. They were about a yard and
a-half long, fastened only so slightly, that on the pike's
striking, two or three yards more of the line might be
run off, to enable him to gorge his bait. A boat being
used on this occasion, the sport became very exciting,
and great quantities of large fish were taken out of some
of the lakes in Scotland and on the Continent. There is
another plan adopted by some fishers, called a Cabbage
and Poodle Pike-hunt. This mode of catching the fish
is practised in the hot months of summer. About mid-
day, when the sun is all powerful, the large pike leave
the deep pools, and ascending to the surface take shelter
210 OLD FACES IN FEW MASKS.
under the cool shade of some over-hanging tree, watch-
ing with a keen eye whatever delicacies the stream may
bring down to them. The fish likewise, on such occasions,
takes shelter under some lily or other aquatic plant, and
seems so inactive that it appears as if really dead. The
sportsman makes his appearance, and without either fish-
ing-rod, lines, worms, flies, or bait of any kind, but having
under his left arm a double-barrelled gun, in his right
hand a large cabbage, and a clever poodle dog at his
heels. Thus equipped he reconnoitres the river, fixes
upon some tree, the larger and lower branches of which
spread over it, ascends with his gun and his cabbage,
and having placed himself in a suitable position on one
of the branches, examines with care the surface of the
deep stream below him. He soon recognizes a stately
pike paddling up the river ; a leaf is broken off the large
cabbage, and is thrown into the water, a little before the
fish. It takes fright at this, and instantly disappears,
but soon takes courage, and makes towards the cabbage
leaf, which affords him a delightful and cooling shade.
After getting himself comfortably placed under it, the
sportsman immediately fires at the cabbage leaf, and
seldom fails in killing or severely wounding his prey.
The dog goes in the water, and succeeds in capturing
the fish, and brings it safely on land.
The charms and recipes for taking the pike are
numerous and whimsical. A Dr. Bliss gives the follow-
ing, in 1550 : " Tak asafedita of the fatest an ounce ;
staunch gryme, di quarter of an ounce ; gum arabek, lyk
myche; black berys,iij. or iiij., small broken; the yolk
of an egg rostid harde, lyk myche; then tak iij. or iiij.
A FEW WOEDS O~X PIKE. 211
dropis of oleum benedictum, to temper tliies togedre lyk
past and rubbe and anoynte the end of the lyne that the
hooke ys hopon, and this will brynge the pike."
For catching pike by the hand, a modern writer says
(1804) : " Take nettles and cinquefoil, chop them small,
and mix them with house-leek juice ; rub your hands
with the compound, and cast a portion of it into the
water. Keep your hands in the water, and the pike will
come so near you, that you may take them with your hands
most easily." Another recipe is from the same autho-
rity : " Take Cocculus Indicus, and pound it in a mortar
till it makes a paste, with a very small quantity of thin
milk; make balls of the size of a common pill, and
throw them into the deep and still portions of the water,
and in summer days, when very hot, near the edges
of lakes, canals, and the like. The pike will soon become
intoxicated, and swim on the surface of the water, and
you may easily take them with your landing net."
The pike has been the subject of several proverbs,
fables, and amusing stories. In the list of the proverbs
of Erasmus we have the following :
Piscator Ictus Sapiet. A fisherman putting his hand
hastily into his net, was wounded by the teeth of a pike ;
being thus caught, he said, " I shall now become wi,ser ;"
which is said to have given rise to the adage, " Bought wit is
best." It will certainly be more likely to be remembered
than that which is obtained without suffering some kind
of loss or inconvenience. Hence, also, we say, " Wit
once bought is worth twice taught." "El hombre
mancebo, perdiendo gana seso" by losses and disappoint-
ments young men acquire knowledge.
212 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Another proverb is, " Better be the head of a pike,
than the tail of a sturgeon."
THE SPAEROW AND THE PIKE.
(A Fable from the Italian)
In a sequestered river, a pike had for long taken up
its abode. Tall Lombardy poplars overhung his place
of retreat, in which many birds took shelter. One
day the pike lay basking in the sun, and heard a
sparrow thus express itself : " How great a fool I was to
leave the comforts of the town, where I had food and
shelter without labour, and where, from the house-tops, I
could look down without fear of the devouring hawk.
I'll stay no longer in these horrid solitudes." The pike
raised up its head, and said, " Stay, I am fond of news ;
pray tell me is it true that the towns are so delightful to
inhabit ? " " Oh, most certainly," said the sparrow,
" especially for you ; for there all the rivers, and canals,
and reservoirs are full of fish ; you would have no trouble
in catching them in rich abundance." The pike asked if
the sparrow would show him the way. " With great
pleasure," said the latter, " and you'll see many new
sights." In going to town the pike suffered greatly
from hunger, for it had met with no gudgeons nor min-
nows, nor any other kind of fish to satisfy its natural
wants. " Courage, my country friend," said the sparrow ;
" a little longer, and we shall arrive at the town, where
you will find abundance of fish of all kinds on the
market-stalls, that will save you the trouble of hunting
for them in the streams." " Alas," said the pike, " I
find now I have taken a false step in quitting my snug
A FEW WORDS ON PIKE. 213
hiding hole in my native stream, which always most
abundantly supplied the food necessary for my existence.
I have skimmed through most of the waters in your
neighbourhood, and have not been able to procure a
solitary meal from them ; and as to the fish in your
market places, I dare noi^ approach them. I see these
large towns and their waters are not places for me."
The sparrow said, with a satanic smile, " You should have
taken all these things into consideration before you set
out in your journey. You are one of those who can
only learn wisdom from painful experience." MORAL :
It is good to be contented with our lot, and not to rush
into fresh enterprizes upon every new tale we hear.
We have a modern joke about the pike. A young
gentleman was on a fishing excursion, and on one of the
thoroughfares to the lakes of "Westmoreland he met with,
and made the acquaintance of a lady, Mary Pike by name,
with whom he became very much enamoured, and from
whom he could not part without some pangs of sadness.
He expressed a hope that he might hear from her occa-
sionally, to which she replied, that "if he were not
successful in taking fish at the lakes, she had no great
objection to his dropping her a line." Another story of
a comical cast is told of the pike. Soon after the
Irish rebellion of '98, an English merchant visited Con-
naught* on urgent business. He took a servant with
him, made his will, and arrived safely at his destination,
which was near the mountain chain which bounds the
picturesque and beautiful shores of Lough Corrib. It
was late in autumn, and the weather was very fine.
Taking a ramble of some few miles into the country, he
214 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
was benighted, and had to take up his quarters for the
evening at a sheeliene-Jiouse, where, after supper, he was
conducted to an inner room, and his servant was accom-
modated with a pallet of straw by his side. Although
the family were all remarkably civil and obliging, the
stranger could not overcome a secret apprehension of
impending danger. Midnight came, and the outer door
was opened very cautiously ; several men entered the
kitchen with a stealthy pace ; they conversed together in
their own language, and the stranger heard his own name
often mentioned. Crawling in an agony of apprehen-
sion, he awoke his servant, to whom he communicated
his suspicions that some direful calamity was about to
befall them, and requested him to listen attentively to
the midnight colloquy in the outer chamber.
"What is that they say?" quoth the fearful tra-
veller.
" They want another pint, for they have not had such
a prize for the last twelvemonth."
" That's me," groaned the querist.
" They have five pikes already, and expect more
before morning," continued the valet.
" Truculent scoundrels.'*
" The largest is intended for yourself."
" Lord defend me ! " ejaculated the stranger.
" They wonder if you are sleeping."
" Cold-blooded monsters ! They want to despatch us
quietly."
" The owner swears that nobody shall enter this room
till morning."
" Ay, then they will have daylight, and no difficulty."
A FEW WOKDS ON PIKE. 215
" And now he urges them to go to bed."
" Heaven grant they may ! for then escape from this
den of murder might be possible."
The agitated stranger and his servant listened, with
beating hearts, till unequivocal symptoms of deep sleep
were heard from the kitchen ; then both crawled through
the window half-dressed, and, with a world of trouble
and perilous adventure, managed early next morning to
reach their original place of destination. On relating
his adventures, the stranger was met with a loud horse-
laugh ; and this being often repeated, " Zounds ! " cried
the Englishman, "is my throat so valueless, that its
cutting should only raise a horse-laugh?" "My dear
friend," said the host, "you must excuse me it is so
funny. The cause of all your alarm is in the outer
hall." So saying, he uncovered a large basket, and
pointed to a huge pike of thirty pounds' weight. The
peasants had been setting night lines for the stranger's
especial benefit, and this was the result of their labours.
Of course the Englishman had a good laugh at his ill-
grounded fears.
" In the fourteenth century, Courtney, Archbishop of
Canterbury, passed sentence of excommunication on some
servants of the Earl of Arundel, for robbing one of his
fish-ponds of pike, styling them sacrilegious persons, and
violators of the Church of Canterbury. Pike formed
the chief part of the fish dinners given at the nunnery
of Barking during the thirteenth and fourteenth cen-
turies. The " king's fish-ponds," on the Bankside, South-
wark, furnished the royal table with pike during the
greater part of the reigns of the Tudor s and Stuarts.
216 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
In the " History of Kent," we find that pike were con-
sidered, in the fourteenth centnry, as a most aristocratic
dish. "When the English sovereigns were in the habit of
visiting some of the noble families in this part of the
country, they were treated with the great delicacies of
baked and roasted pike, filled with many kinds of highly-
seasoned and savoury force-meats. On one of these
festive occasions, a courtier ate so freely of this fish as
to produce a surfeit, of which he died in two days. At
the town of Maidstone, the same historical authority
states, two men were deprived of their ears, and otherwise
severely punished, for having stolen three pike from some
nobleman's private fish-pond. At the coronation dinner
of Henry VIII. there were, among various other fish,
thirty-nine large pike ; and at a similar festive occasion
in Queen Elizabeth's reign there were forty-one. In the
records of Lowther Castle, in "Westmorland, we find that
pike were highly esteemed in the middle ages, and most
sedulously preserved for the tables of the gentry. It is
stated that during one autumn a disease spread among
the pike in this district, and they were nearly all
destroyed. It was agreed among the gentlemen of the
county not to kill another fish of this kind for the sub-
sequent seven years, that their numbers might be re-
cruited from the decimation of this piscatory pestilence.
A brace of pikes were at this period sold in Kendal
market for two pounds ten shillings. There was a fish-
dinner given by the clergy of York every year, till 1559,
at which nothing but pike was eaten. This ceremony
had existed for upwards of five hundred years, and the
fish for the occasion were all brought to the city of
A FEW WORDS ON PIKE. 217
York with great pomp, and were all uniformly taken out
of the river Ouse.
Some very curious facts and customs connected with
pike are interspersed throughout many of the ancient
historical works on France. In some of the provinces,
when the lady of a lord was confined in child-bed, the
peasants in the neighbourhood were obliged, under a
heavy fine, and in some cases imprisonment, to present
him on the third day after her accouchment with a pike'
served on a silver salver. In Dauphiny the pike had to
be presented on the thirtieth day after the lady's confine-
ment, and accompanied with a gold coin of a certain
value. In Normandy and Brittany, when a member of
the aristocracy became of age, the peasants on the estate
were bound to present him with two pike, along with
several other kind of fish. The presentation was quite a
formal affair; the clergy of the district attended the
ceremony, and they added to the donation several silver
coins of small value. At the fish-ponds attached to the
royal palace of Fontainebleau, there were several ancient
customs relative to the taking of pike, and other still-
water fish. On the 10th day of October in each year a
priest, in full canonicals, attended by certain officials
belonging to the royal residence, assembled at the fish-
ponds at a given hour, and went through a kind of
ceremony by catching a pike, and then placing a small
piece of silver money, attached to a silken cord, around
its neck. The fish was then placed in the water again.
"What religious object this ceremony was meant to em-
body has never been sufficiently explained. Some French
antiquarian writers have supposed the custom was meant
218 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
to represent the miracle of the apostle Peter, and the
piece of money found in the fish's mouth. This is, how-
ever, but an unsatisfactory conjecture to account for such
a piece of sheer mummery and absurdity. Another cus-
tom at the same royal palace was, on Christmas day, six
pikes were to be presented to the royal table. In some
districts near the city of Toulouse, the estates of several
landholders were held upon a tenure of presenting on a
certain day to the public authorities of that city three
pikes, which were each to be upwards of twenty pounds
in weight. All these curious customs were abolished by
the revolution of 1789.
The medical fraternity have in all ages dealt very
freely with the pike. Its heart was considered an in-
fallible remedy for the more severe paroxysms of fevers ;
its gall was an universal ointment for weak eyes ; its
mandibula?, dried and pounded small, were a perfect cure
for pleurisy. Whatever fish were caught in its stomach
were invested with peculiar curative virtues, and were
extensively employed in the middle ages in cases of
decided consumption and tabes dorsalis. The Arabian
physician, Ebu Baithar, devotes an entire chapter in his
book on the " Cure of Diseases" to the virtues of the
flesh of the pike ; but he enjoins that the fish should
neither be eaten as food, nor used medicinally, during the
hot months of summer. We have the following cure for
epilepsy, in doggerel lines, published in 1705 :
" If epileptic fits you take,
Then a careful composte make
Of liver from the pike fish ;
And purely miit with balsam sage,
A FEW WORDS ON PIKE. 219
Then to the chest where evils rage
You fix it on, in pewter dish.
It will when kept in warm condition
Completely ease you of inflation."
Marchaleus says that if we calcine the bones of the
pike in a crucible, make a powder of them, and mix this
powder with white sugar, it will prove effectual in eradi-
cating films and specks from the eye. To candy the flesh
of the fish, the same author gives the following directions:
Take the flesh cleared from the bones, and cut it in long
slips ; then parboil in water and a little sugar ; then take
out and dip into honey boiled to a high consistence, and
let them be taken out and laid to candy. This will be
found of great use in asthmas, and deeply-seated chronic
coughs.
Pike-fishing was carried on in Italy with great ardour
during some sections of the middle ages. These fish
were carefully preserved in ponds and private estu-
aries, and from some accounts attained a very great size.
They formed a staple article for picnic fishing parties ;
and are often alluded to in the fishing songs of Italy in
the time of Calmo and others.
In the history of the bloody and long-continued feuds
between the Guelphs and Ghibilline factions in Italy,
there is an account of one f affray which sprung out of
pike-fishing. A nobleman had been caught on the pri-
vate fishing-grounds of another, and had made a capture
of several large pike. This led to a civil action in the
first instance, and afterwards to a personal encounter
between the parties and their respective friends, wherein
several lives were sacrificed on both sides.
220 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Pope Leo VIII. was said to be so passionately fond
of pike, that he never considered a fish dinner complete
unless some of these fish were presented at table.
The pike is prolific of legends. Bodin, a French
political writer of eminence, affirms that a niece of a
Parisian haberdasher, residing in the Eue St. Honore, in
going down the banks of the Seine one fine evening, was
accosted by a voice from the stream, and, turning round,
saw a large fish of the pike species, which beckoned to
her to come to it. It distinctly foretold the death of a
wealthy uncle of hers, by whom she had been left a large
sum of money. Miraille was hanged in 1567 ; Jeaune
Collier in 1573; and Jeane D'Avesnes de Beavais in
1574, all of whom were accused as sorcerers, and with
having played many tricks upon the credulity of the
people of Paris, and its immediate neighbourhood,
through the instrumentality of various kinds of fish,
particularly with pike, both dead and living.
Bassompierre relates that, in 1612, having gone to
visit the Marquis d'Aucre, who was sick, some person in
the chamber said, "A monk of my acquaintance knows a
person who promises, upon his life, to make a woman
love any man that he wishes, and begged me to make the
secret known to you." " You should send him," said
Bassompierre, " to the Duke de Bellegrade, who is old."
Accordingly the monk went as directed, proposed to
make known the magician and his secret to the Duke,
who listened to it, and promised him a sum of money, if
the device should succeed. His grace was given to under-
stand that it would be through the agency of eating
of a particular kind of fish, which had been taken out of
A FEW WO EDS O^T PIKE. 221
the royal fish-ponds in the vicinity of Paris, and which
had been subjected to a holy and miraculous process.
The Duke then inquired whether by this magical act he
could make a lady hate the person to whom she was
attached ? The monk and the magician replied that this
was quite possible. The Duke was in transports at
hearing this, and communicated confidentially to the
Princess de Conti, that he possessed an infallible secret
to make the queen feel a liking to himself, and a fixed
and steady hatred towards the Marquis d'Aucre and his
wife. The charm was said to be made by broiled pike-
fish, seasoned highly with various kinds of herbs. This
story got to the ears of the French court, and three days
after, the monk and the magician, and those who had
introduced them to the Duke de Bellegrade's house,
were committed to prison.*
In 1(588, and in 1691, the Parliament of Paris con-
demned several shepherds of La Brie, who were charged
with practising sorcery for the destruction of sheep.
The philter which they employed was made of the flesh
of the pike, caught in the river Rhone, mixed with oils,
and a certain portion of the consecrated host, kept back
at the sacraments. In England, similar absurd stories
were once rife, particularly in the counties of Essex and
Cambridgeshire. In 1514, a man was committed to pri-
son, and afterwards tried and condemned to be branded
with a hot iron, and to lose both his ears, for carrying
about, from place to place, a live pike, in a water-case,
which he pretended could tell fortunes, and predict
future events with great accuracy.
* " Histoire de Paris," 1798.
222 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
DB. PALEY'S "NATURAL THEOLOGY."
OUR remarks on this well-known publication have been
suggested from the singular circumstances connected with
it as a literary work. Its fame has been great ; it has
called forth distinguished commentators and editors ; and
yet there is not a work in the English language which
owes so little to the labours of its author as this book
does to the eminent divine.
There is not probably one out of a thousand of
ordinary readers who does not believe the treatise on
" Natural Theology " to have been entirely suggested by,
and carved out of the natural resources of, Dr. Paley's
mind that he had collected all the materials, and
arranged them according to his own ideas of method,
and that he was, in the fullest sense of the words, an
original thinker and illustrator of this department of
human knowledge. We are in a position to prove this
not to be the case. We can show that his work is a
mere running commentary on another publication, to
the author of which he has acted with great unfairness,
and in flagrant violation of the literary moralities. We
charge him with taking the leading arguments and illus-
trations of his " Natural Theology," from a book of the
same nature written by Dr. Nieuwentyt, of Holland, and
published at Amsterdam about the year 1700 full one
DR. PALEY'S "NATURAL THEOLOGY." 223
hundred years before the Doctor's treatise made its
appearance in England.
Bernard Meuwentyt was one of the most erudite
philosophers of Holland in the seventeenth century.
About the year mentioned, he published a work in Dutch
" To Prove the Existence and Wisdom of Grod from the
"Works of Creation." This treatise excited considerable
attention throughout Europe ; and Mr. Chamberlayne, a
member of the Royal Society of London, undertook its
translation into English, under the title of "The
Religious Philosopher." This was published in Lon-
don, in three volumes octavo, in 1718-19. A Erench
translation was afterwards published at Paris, in
quarto, with numerous plates, under the title of
" L'Existence de Dieu demonstree par les Merveilles de
la ISTature."
To show the connection between Mr. Chamberlayne' s
" Religious Philosopher " and Dr. Paley's " Natural
Theology," we give the plan of both publications in
parallel columns. The reader will see their almost com-
plete identity :
General Arrangement of Dr. General Arrangement of Dr.
Paley's " Natural Theology" Nieuwentyf s " Religious Phi-
losopher"
Dr. Paley lays down his "State- Dr. Nieuwentyt has his " G-e-
ment of the G-eneral Argument" neral Epistle to the Reader," in
in two or three sections. which the same " G-eneral Argu-
ment " is employed. But more of
this hereafter.
Paley commences the applica- Dr. Nieu wen tyt also commences
tion of his argument of design his application of the argument
with an examination of the struc- of design by an examination of
t ure of the human body. Chaps, the human body. "Contempla-
3 to 11 inclusive contain his tion." 10 is devoted to the MUS-
illustrations. Chap. 9 is devoted CLES containing 16 sections,
to the MUSCLES. illustrated with many plates.
224
OLD FACES
NEW MASKS.
Paley commences his 12th Chap. Nieuwentyt describes properties
with Comparative Anatomy. of Air, Meteors, Water, Earth,
and Fire.
In the 20th Chap. Paley com- Nieuwentyt enters upon the
mences with the structure and consideration of Comparative
nature of Plants. Anatomy.
Paley makes his observations The nature of Plants is con-
on the " Elements," Air, Water, sidered by Dr. Nieuwentyt.
Fire, Light, etc.
Paley' s 22nd Chap, is on As- The 24th Contemplation " of
tronomy." Nieuwentyt is on the " Visible
Heavens."
Paley concludes
with some
general remarks on the nature
and existence of a Deity.
Dr. Nieuwentyt ends his dis-
quisitions on Astronomy, etc.,
with remarks of a similar nature
on the same subject.
This is the arrangement of both treatises, and the
reader will perceive how closely Paley has followed the
Dutch philosopher. But the matter does not rest here.
We have not so much space at command as would
suffice even to indicate all the coincidences running
through the illustrations of both works ; but we must
claim indulgence while we refer again to the introductory
observations of each author. We shall find that Paley
has been no stranger to " The Religious Philosopher."
General and Introductory Ar-
gument of Nieuwentyt.
Nieuwentyt commences with
some general statements as to the
argument of design which is sug-
gested to the mind by any work
of contrivance and skill. He
then says " That this may be
shown after a more plain and not
less certain manner, let us apply
to some particular thing what has
just been advanced in general,
and, as it were, in an abstracted
manner ; and LET us SUPPOSE
THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF A SANDY
DOWN, OB IN A DESEET OB SOLI-
TABY PLACE, where few people
General and Introductory Ar-
gument of Paley.
Dr. Paley pursues precisely the
same line of argument, with very
little variation in the language.
Paley says, " In crossing a heath,
suppose I pitched my foot against
a STONE, and asked how the stone
came to be there, I might pos-
sibly answer that, for anything I
knew to the contrary, it had lain
there for ever ; nor would it per-
haps be very easy to show the
absurdity of this answer. But
suppose I had found a WATCH
upon the ground, and it should
be inquired how the watch hap-
DR. PALEY'S " NATURAL THEOLOGY.'
225
are used to pass, any one should
find a WATCH, showing the hours,
minutes, and days of the months,
and having examined the same,
should perceive so MANY DIFFE-
RENT WHEELS, NICELY ADAPTED
BY THEIR TEETH TO EACH OTHEE,
and that one of them could not
move without moving the rest of
the uhole machine; and should
further observe, THAT THOSE
WHEELS AEE MADE OF BKASS, IN
ORDEE TO KEEP THEM FBOM
BUST ; THAT THE SPEING- IS
STEEL, NO OTHEB METAL BEING
SO PEOPEE FOE THAT PURPOSE ;
that over the hand there is placed
a clear glass ; in the place of
which, if there were any other
but a transparent matter, he must
be at the pains of opening it every
time to look upon the hand. Be-
sides all which, he might discover
in it a hole, and exactly opposite
thereto a little square pin. He
would likewise see hanging to this
same watch a little key composed
of two pieces, making a right
angle together; at the end of
each of which there was a square
hole so ordered that one of them
was exactly adapted to the little
pin in the said hole, which being
applied thereto, a chain would be
wound up, and a spring bent, by
which means the machine would
be continued in motion which
otherwise would be in an entire
rest. He might also find, that
the other square cavity, at the
end of the little key, was adapted
to another pin or instrument,
which being turned this way or
that, makes the hand move faster
or slower. At the other end of
this little key there would be a
flat handle, which being moveable
therein, might give him the con-
veniency,that in the winding it up
pened to be in this place, I should
hardly think of the answer which
I had before given, that, for any-
thing I knew, the watch might
have always been there. Yet
why should not this answer serve
for the watch as well as for
the stone ? Why is it not as
admissible in the second case as
in the first ? For this reason,
and for no other, viz., that when
we come to inspect the watch we
perceive (what we could not dis-
cover in the stoue) that the
several parts are framed and put
together for a purpose e.g. that
they are so formed and adjusted
as to produce motion, and that
motion so regulated as to point
out the hour of the day ; that if
the several parts had been dif-
ferently shaped from what they
are, of a different size from what
they are, or placed after any other
manner, or in any other order
than that in which they are
placed, either no motion at all
would have been carried on in
the machine, or none would have
answered the use that is now
served by it. To reckon up a
few of the plainest of these parts
or offices, all tending to one re-
sult : we see a cylindrical box,
containing a coiled elastic spring,
which by its endeavour to relax
itself, turns round the box. We
next observe a flexible chain (arti-
ficially wrought for the sake of
flexure) communicating the action
of the spring from the box to the
fusee. WE THEN FIND A SEEIES
OF WHEELS, THE TEETH OF WHICH
CATCH IN AND APPLY TO EACH
OTHEE, conducting the motion
from the fusee to the balance, and
from the balance to the pointer ;
and at the same time, by the size
and shape of these wheels, so re-
Q
226 OLD EACES IN NEW MASKS.
he should not be obliged to take gulating that motion as to termi-
hold of it at every turn of his nate in causing an index, by an
fingers. Lastly, he would per- equable and measured progres-
ceive, that if there were any de- sion, to pass over a given space
feet either in the wheels, spring, in a given time. We take notice
or in any other part of the watch, that THE WHEELS ARE MADE OF
or if they had been put together BRASS, IN ORDER TO KEEP THEM
after any other manner, the whole FROM RTTST; THE SPRINGS OF
watch would have been entirely STEEL, NO OTHER METAL BEING
useless." so ELASTIC ; that over the face of
the watch there is placed a glass, a material employed in
no other part of the work, but, in the room of which, if
there had been any other than a transparent substance, the
hour could not have been seen without opening the case.
This mechanism being observed, the inference we think is
inevitable, that the watch must have had a maker ; that
there must have existed, at some time and at some place or
other, an artificer or artificers who formed it for the pur-
pose which we find it actually to answer ; who com-
prehended its construction and designed its use."
Every theological student knows Paley's Watch. It
has always been considered as a marked proof of the
Doctor's masterly skill in dialectics. Yet we see here
he has no claim to this illustration whatever. Not
only the general argument connected with it, but the
very words and phrases themselves are taken from Cham-
berlayne's translation; and the whole subject through-
out is so closely argued out from the Dutch book, that
scarcely a shred or patch of Paley's work belongs to him.
Nor has the Doctor any decided advantage over Cham-
berlayne's statement in point of clearness, logical pre-
cision, or beauty of expression.
Now did Dr. Paley know of such a person as Nieu-
wentyt? and had he a knowledge of that author's
writings? We have looked carefully through the edi-
tion of the Archdeacon's work of 1803; through that
edited by Paxen in 1826 ; and through the last by Lord
DR. PALEY' s "NATURAL THEOLOGY." 227
Brougham and Sir Charles Bell ; and we find that Paley
mentions Nieuwentyt's name only once, thus : " Dr.
Nieuwentyt, in the ' Leipsic Transactions,' reckons upon
one hundred muscles that are employed every time we
breathe." Here, then, the foreign philosopher is recog-
nized, together with the precise nature of the subject
on which he had written. Now, it so happens that the
whole of Nieuwentyt's work made its first appearance in
the " Leipsic Transactions ;" so that Paley must, at any
rate, have seen it in this detailed form. But there can be
little doubt, from the passages which we have quoted, and
from hundreds of others we could bring forward, that
he was well acquainted with Mr. Chamberlayns's transla-
tion. It must be borne in mind that the main argument
or proof on which the whole of the " Natural Theology"
of Paley is founded (and the same remark applies to
Nieuwentyt's work), possesses a distinct unity of charac-
ter. The illustrations may be multiplied ad infinitum ;
but the argument itself is always the same. It is simply
this that when we perceive design or contrivance, the
mind naturally, by an almost instinctive impulse, draws
the conclusion that there must be a designer or contriver.
On this general ground alone, Paley was bound, on every
principle of literary integrity, to have acknowledged his
obligations to "The Religious Philosopher." Every-
thing, however, about the Archdeacon's work goes to
impress the reader with the firm belief that it was of
his own concocting and planning ; and all the observa-
tions and illustrations of his numerous commentators,
strengthen and enforce this opinion.
In a limited paper like the present, we have not a
228 OLD FACES IN KEW MASKS.
tithe of the room required to show the full extent of
Paley' s obligations to " The Eeligious Philosopher." In
order, however, to give the reader an opportunity of
examining for himself, we shall briefly enumerate a few
very few indeed to what might be adduced of the
complete identity, in point of arrangement, illustration,
and argument, between numerous portions of the two
publications in question.
Paley passes from the sense of sight to that of hear-
ing ; so likewise does Nieuwentyt. On the latter sense,
see Paley, pp. 44 to 52 ; then compare these passages
with those of " The Eeligious Philosopher," vol. i., pp. 243
to 272. The plates must also be looked at ; for it is
evident that the Archdeacon must have consulted them.
His 10th chapter, pp. 159 to 198, " Of the Vessels of
Animal Bodies," must be compared with the 6th, 7th,
and 8th " Contemplations " of Nieuwentyt. Bead Paley
on the Muscles, pp. 132 to 158 ; and then consult
" The Eeligious Philosopher," vol. i., pp. 139 to 193. See
Paley on Insects, pp. 346 to 373 ; and likewise Nieu-
wentyt, vol. ii., pp. 676 to 684 ; the beetle and silk-ivorm,
are worthy of especial notice. On Plants, see Paley,
pp. 374 to 398 ; and then compare the passages with those
of the Dutch philosopher, vol. ii., pp. 685 to 732. The
remarks of both authors on the seed, buds, fruit, leaves,
etc., are entitled to particular attention. In Compara-
tive Anatomy, where Paley speaks of the structure of
Birds, pp. 247 to 254, see Nieuwentyt, vol. ii., p. 639.
The general remarks of both authors on Fishes may also
be perused.
We must add a word or two on the recent com-
DR. PALEY'S "NATURAL THEOLOGY." 229
mentators and illustrators of Paley Lord Brougham
and Sir Charles Bell. It is curious that neither of these
two distinguished individuals ever mention Nieuwentyt
or Chamberlayne, the latter of whom had illustrated the
same class of subjects handled by the commentators with
more than double the number of engravings. It is an
ordinary requisition of all commentators to know, and to
acknowledge too, everything connected with the nature
and historical progress of the book they undertake to
stamp with their authority and influence. But. here we
have Mr. Chamberlayne' s work, in three volumes, with
one hundred and sixty engravings, precisely on the same
topics of physical science, and for the avowedly same end
or purpose, passed over in perfect silence by both Lord
Brougham and Sir Charles Bell. And what heightens
the surprise and curiosity of the matter is, that we find
in their edition of the " Natural Theology," p. 162, the
same engraving on the nature of the tendons, as that given
in Nieuwentyt, in fig. 1, plate 4. In Sir Charles's treatise
on the hand, p. 127, we find the plate illustrative of the
subject, copied from Chamberlayne' s illustrations, with-
out a single word of acknowledgment ! How curious
all this is !
JNieuwentyt's work has an European reputation. As
we have already stated, it was translated into French
early in the last century, and is at this hour called one
of the classics of France. It was praised by Rousseau,
Buffon, and other eminent French authors and thinkers,
and is mentioned with commendation in almost every
bibliographical work of that country. Mr. Chamber-
layne, the English translator, was a gentleman of fortune,
230 OLD FACES Itf FEW MASKS.
a member of the Royal Society of London, and spent a
considerable portion of his time and money in publishing
this translation. If we are not misinformed, the Metho-
dist Connection have not long ago published an edition
of this translation for the especial use of theological
students belonging to their body giving a preference to
Chamberlayne's labours to Paley's work. Under these
circumstances, this English gentleman, as well as the
Dutch author, has been scurvily treated both by Paley,
and by Lord Brougham, and Sir Charles Bell. We are
contending for a just principle, which ought to pervade
every department of the republic of letters, that no man
should ride into public favour upon the specific intel-
lectual labours of others, without at least rendering them
some open and direct acknowledgment. We charge the
Archdeacon who was often in the habit of jocosely re-
marking that he " could not afford to keep a conscience"
with taking all the leading arrangements of his work,
all the general arguments, and a vast part of the illus-
trations of it, from an author whom he has guardedly
kept in the background, and whom he never mentions
as a general writer on " Natural Theology" at all. This is
the charge we make, and we think it is well founded.
"We are aware it may be said, in the way of defence,
that there is an analogy between Nieuwentyt's com-
prehensive argument of design and contrivance, and the
treatment of physical science generally. A man, for
example, may write a summary, or compendium, or a
treatise of any dimensions on geography, astronomy,
geology, etc., without mentioning all or any of the most
distinguished names who had gone before him in the
DR. PALEY'S " NATURAL THEOLOGY." 231
same branches of knowledge. Nothing, however, can be
more fallacious than this principle. All departments of
knowledge founded directly upon human nature, and
having the mind more especially as their foundation,
are altogether different from the statement or treatment
of mere physical facts, so far as literary fame is con-
cerned. For example, Hume and Campbell have a
peculiar literary property, in the way of reputation, in
the general argument for and against miracles ; Bishop
Butler in a certain application of the argument of
analogy to theology ; Bishop Berkeley has a property in
the arguments for a certain species of idealism; and
Adam Smith has the same in his "Theory of Moral
Sentiments." And why is this ? Simply because the
mind of each of these philosophers has sketched out a
certain mental system, or congery of arguments by
virtue of its own innate power and application. In
natural philosophy, strictly so called, our mode of judg-
ing of, and rewarding, literary merit in the way of repu-
tation or fame, is considerably different. Facts here
become a species of common property the moment they
are promulgated. This constitutes the essential diffe-
rence between the philosophy of man and the philosophy
of external nature. Nieuwentyt and Chamberlayne had
an exclusive property in the shape of well-earned reputa-
tion, because the arguments and facts stated in their
view of " Natural Theology," were the result of their own
individual labours, and bore the impress of independent
mental action.
Now let us suppose, for the purpose of illustrating
our general argument (and we have a full right to make
232 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
the supposition), that Dr. Nieuwentyt had published his
work in Holland only Jive years, and that Mr. Chamber-
lay ne's translation of it into English should have ap-
peared, say two years, before Dr. Paley wrote his treatise ;
how would the parties have stood relative to those
principles of literary justice and honour, necessarily
arising out of their respective positions as authors on
the same identical subject ? Would it have been fair
and candid for Paley to have published his work, with
the full knowledge of the writers, who had just preceded
him, without ever condescending to notice their respec-
tive labours ? Would the Doctor have dared to have
committed himself in this manner p "Would he have
ventured to take Chamberlayne's "Religious Philoso-
pher," chapter by chapter, argument by argument, and
illustration by illustration, as he has done ? No ; we
can answer for him, he would not have done so. But if
he had, what would the literary public of 1803 have said
of him ? Would they have been entirely silent ? Would
it have been considered a libellous attack on the character
of the Archdeacon to have even barely alluded to the ex-
istence of these publications ? We trow not. The critics
of that day would not have been quite so simple and
forgiving ; they would have dealt with him pretty
smartly. True, he might have had zealous and able
friends then as now, who might have extenuated his
errors, by stating that he was a much cleverer man than
either Nieuwentyt and Chamberlayne were ; that he was
a bold, reckless kind of literary marauder, who had been
tacitly allowed a degree of liberty of trespass, not per-
mitted to others more bashful and modest ; and that
DR. PALEY'S "NATURAL THEOLOGY." 233
there could be no real injustice or impropriety in taking
anything, either from the foreign writer or his own
countrymen, seeing that he was in the constant habit
of taking largely from any one who fell in his way. All
this, and much more, might have been urged in 1803, as
well and as fully as it possibly may be now ; but if we
have any faith in the innate justice of the human cha-
racter, hewould not have escaped altogether unscathed
from such a line of defence.
If, therefore, Paley would, in 1803, when his " Theo-
logy " appeared, have been, under the circumstances
here supposed, guilty of great injustice in neglecting the
two authors who had immediately preceded him, he
cannot be less guilty now. Time makes no difference in
the relative situation of the parties, or in the general
principles which result from it. What was fit, decent,
just, liberal, and honest towards the " B/eligious Philoso-
pher " in 1803, is equally binding now, when a century
has nearly passed over the author's tomb. A thousand
years could not have lessened the Doctor's obligations ;
because he wrote with a full knowledge of the ivories in
question. Nay, the case against Paley is considerably
aggravated by the lurking suspicion which involuntarily
lays hold of the mind, that he had ventured upon taking
the liberties he did, because Kieuwentyt and Chamber-
layne had been, some years before he wrote, comparatively
neglected and forgotten.
"When the substance of this paper first made its
appearance, in 1848, it created a lively interest in every
section of the kingdom, and was copied into many metro-
politan and local papers. Prom a London paper, the
234 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Church and State Gazette, then the organ of the Esta-
blished Church, of which Paley was, and is still, consi-
dered a distinguished ornament, we have the following
observations :
" The rudest and most stunning blow," says that
journal, " that has ever been dealt against the reputation
of Paley, and the challenge for respect due to it from
mankind, has recently been made and made out of a
sense of duty by our contemporary the Athenaeum. To
plunge in medias res, we may at once bluntly state that
Paley's ' Natural Theology ' was not written by Paley.
The Atlien&um asserts thus much, and supports its
assertion by a weight of proof that appears to us to be
utterly incontrovertible. Our readers may believe us
when we repeat this, although we do not lay before them
the whole of this astounding case as it appears in the
columns of our contemporary. For this we have not
' ample room and verge enough,' and we must be content
with stating results rather than repeating details of which
they are the sum. In brief, then, before Dr. Paley gave
to the world, as his own, the ' Natural Theology,' a work
on the same subject, and nearly in the same words, had
appeared in Holland, with the name on its title-page of
one of Holland's most erudite philosophers, Dr. Bernard
Nieuwentyt. Prom this work published, we say, long
before that of Paley lengthened extracts are given in
the AthencBum: these are contrasted with similar pas-
sages from Paley, and these are so similar as to be, in fact,
nearly verbatim reproductions of the original. If the
extracts from the Hollander be genuine which we can-
not, unfortunately, doubt then Paley shines unrivalled
DR. PALET'S "NATURAL THEOLOGY." 235
in the enormity and splendour of his plagiarisms. In
the annals of. literary corsairship we never heard of any-
thing equalling piracy like this ; and unless the friends
and relatives of Paley can submit satisfactory evidence
before the tribunal of the public that he has had foul
wrong done unto him, his reputation as an honest writer
sinks for ever beneath the sea of contemptuous oblivion.
Who does not remember walking with Paley on the
heath, and picking up that memorable and wonderful
watch, and sitting down to listen to the admirable philo-
sophy imparted thereon, and to heed the charming in-
struction given upon its anatomy if we may so call
it and to mark with heart-burning enthusiasm the uses
made by our ' guide, philosopher, and friend ;' and how
he led us from the watch in his hand to the origin of all
things reposing in the hand of Grod ? Alas ! we regret
to state it but, for the sake of honesty, it should be
mentioned that that watch was stolen ! It was originally
the property of Bernard Nieuwentyt, and Paley niched
it from him and exhibited it in England as his own!
The Athenaeum cites the respective passages by the two
authors ; and that well-known and beautiful illustration
of the watch appears in Paley very nearly word for word
as it was published years before in the volume written
by Nieuwentyt."
More recently the subject has not lost its interest, as
we find from a notice in that amusing and interesting
work, Notes and Queries for 1853 :
" Charge of Plagiarism against Paley. Has any reply
been made to the accusation against Paley, brought for-
ward some years ago in the Atlienceum ? It was stated
236 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
(and apparently proved) that his Natural Theology was
merely a translation of a Dutch work, the name of whose
author has escaped my recollection. I suppose the Arch-
deacon would have defended this shameful plagiarism on
his favourite principle of expediency. It seems to me,
however, that it is high time that either the accusation
be refuted, or the culprit consigned to that contempt as
a man which he deserved as a moralist. FIAT JUSTITIA.
" [We have frequently had to complain of the loose manner in
which Queries are sometimes submitted to our readers for solution.
Here is a specimen. The communication above involves two other
Queries, which should have been settled before it had been for-
warded to us, namely, 1, In what volume of the Athenceum is the
accusation against Paley made ? and, 2, What is the title of the
Dutch work supposed to be pirated ? After pulling down six volumes
of the Athenaeum, we discovered that the charge against Paley ap-
peared at p. 803, of the one for the year 1848, and that the work
said to be pirated was written by Dr. Bernard Nieuwentyt of
Holland, and published at Amsterdam about the year 1700. It was
translated into English, under the title of The Religious Philosopher.
3 vols. 8vo., 1718 19. The charge against Paley has been ably
and satisfactorily discussed in the same volume of the Athenceum
(see pp. 907, 934), and at the present time we have neither 'ample
room nor verge enough ' to re-open the discussion in our pages.] "
OYSTERS. 237
OTSTEES.
" C'est une veritable plaisir des dieux d'ingurgiter une huitre bien
fraiche. BEKSHOUX.
" If, where Fleet-ditch with muddy current flows,
You chance to roam, where oyster-tubs in rows
Are ranged beside the posts ; there stay thy haste,
And with the savoury fish indulge thy taste :
The damsel's knife the gaping shell commands,
While the salt liquor streams between her hands.
******
The man had sure a palate covered o'er
With brass or steel, that on the rocky shore
First broke the oozy oyster's pearly coat,
And risk'd the living morsel down his throat."
GAY.
OYSTERS. They have ever been especial favourites in
days when we were in high glee, and sipped pleasure
out of the cup of life. They are likewise associated with
ancient times. The philosophers, the poets, the come-
dians, and artists of old, loved to whet their appetites
with this grateful shell-fish. When in high spirits and
gaiety when the world smiled upon them when plea-
sure presented itself in her most fascinating attire then
came the oyster to complement the sum of delight, and
place its seal on their enjoyments. No festive parties in
the early days of Greece and Home ever separated with-
out tasting this delicious fish, when in due season. It
was the token of sincere fellowship, of deep sympathies,
of unalloyed hilarity, and of genuine citizenship. It
was the eatable that never cloyed, that never appealed to
238 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
the appetite in vain, that threw a gracious smile over
every countenance, and soothed, if it could not remove,
the poignancy of disappointment. It gave a finish to
imperial authority, eclat to the victories of the general,
zest to the speaker's orations, cogency to the arguments
of the rhetorician, and additional wisdom and expediency
to the politics of the statesman. This bivalve was, in fact,
the crowning glory of life the concordia discors expres-
sive of a harmonious feeling among all classes of men.
What the oyster was in ancient times, it is so still.
The pleasure- seekers of modern society never feel satisfied
till they pay their respects to the oyster-shop. The
fashionable visitor of the opera in London, Paris, or
Berlin, rushes from the scene of his enchantment, and
fills up the measure of his earthly bliss with a copious
supply of the fish. He leaves all behind him till this is
accomplished. The music, the dialogue, the scenery, the
fascinating display of female elegance and fashion, are
all made subordinate to this delicious dish. These con-
stitute the rapturous moments of his existence. And the
same thing is felt and done in the humbler walks of life.
Even the houseless wanderer of the street feels his huma-
nity ennobled for the moment, and his heart soothed, as he
hastily gulps down the saline juice of this notable bivalve.
We are not going to descant on the natural history
of this shell-fish, but only to throw together a few random
observations and statements about it. But we cannot
refrain from just noticing, in passing, one or two pecu-
liarities which modern investigations have detected in its
constitution. In looking at the oyster through a micro-
scope, it is found that its shell is peopled with an innu-
OYSTEES. 239
inerable swarm of animals ; compared to which the fish
itself is a colossus. The liquid enclosed within its shell
contains likewise a multitude of embryos, covered with
transparent scales, which swim with apparent facility ;
and one hundred and twenty of these embryos, placed
side by side, would not make an inch in breadth. This
liquor contains, besides, a great variety of animalcule,
five hundred times less in size, which emit a phosphoric
light. There are also found in the shells, three distinct
species of worms. A modern writer tells us that " the
life of a shell-fish is not one of unvarying rest. Observe
the pha?es of an individual oyster from the moment of
its earliest embryo life, independent of maternal ties, to
the consummation of its destiny, when the knife of fate
shall sever its muscular chords, and doom it to entomb-
ment in a living sepulchre. How starts it forth to the
world of waters ? Not, as unenlightened people believe,
in the shape of a minute bivalved, protected, grave,
fixed, and steady oysterling. No ; it enters upon its
career all life and motion, flitting about the sea as gaily
and lightly as a butterfly or a swallow skims through the
air. Its first appearance is a microscopic oyster-cherub,
with wing-like lobes, flanking a mouth and shoulders
unincumbered with inferior crural prolongations. It
passes through a joyous and vivacious juvenility, skipping
up and down, as if in mockery of its heavy and immove-
able parents. It voyages from oyster-bed to oyster-bed;
and . if, in luck, so as to escape the watchful voracity of
the thousand enemies that lie in wait or prowl about to
prey upon youth and inexperience, at length, having
sown its wild oats, settles down into a steady, solid
240 OLD FACES 1$ NEW MASKS.
domestic oyster. It becomes a parent of fresh broods of
oyster-cherubs. As such, it would live and die, leaving
its shell, thickened through old age, to serve as its monu-
ment throughout all time a contribution towards the
construction of a fresh geological epoch, and a new
layer of the earth's crust were it not for the gluttony
of man, who, rending this sober citizen of the sea from
his native bed, carries him, unresisting, to busy cities and
the hum of crowds. If a handsome, well-shaped, and
well-flavoured oyster, he is introduced to the palaces of
the rich and noble, like a wit, or a philosopher, or a poet,
to give additional relish to their sumptuous feasts. If a
sturdy, thick-backed, strong-tasted individual, fate con-
signs him to the capacious tub of the street fishmonger,
from whence, dosed with coarse black pepper, and pungent
vinegar, embalmed partly after the fashion of an Egyptian
king, he is transferred to the hungry stomach of a coster-
monger."*
* During the season of 1848-49, 130,000 bushels of oysters were
sold in London alone. A million and a-half are consumed in Edin-
burgh each season, being at the rate of more than 7,300 a-day, and
more than sixty millions are taken annually from the French-channel
banks alone. Each batch of oysters intended for the French capital
is subjected to a preliminary exercise in keeping the shell closed at
other hours than when the tide is out, until at length they learn by
experience, that it is necessary to do so whenever they are uncovered
by sea- water. Thus they are enabled to enter the metropolis of
France as polished oysters ought to do, not gaping like astounded
rustics. A London oysterman can tell the ages of his flock to a
nicety ; they are in perfection from five to seven years old. An
oyster bears its years on its back, so that its age is not learned by
looking at its beard. The successive layers observable on the shell
indicates one year ; so that by counting them, we can tell at a glance
the year when the creature came into the world. Quarterly Eeview.
OYSTEES. 241
The Eoman ladies were so enamoured with oysters,
that they were in the habit of gorging themselves to the
root of their tongues, and used to apply the feathers of
the peacock to make themselves disgorge the load that
they might again enjoy the pleasures of a new feast on
the same dish. We find it mentioned in the annals of
Eoman gastronomy, that some of the most noted philo-
sophers and orators could consume at a single meal
several hundreds of oysters. Seneca tells us he ate some
hundreds of them weekly. "Oyster! dear to gourmand,"
says he, " which excites instead of satiating the appetite ;
which never causes illness, even when eaten to excess, so
easy art thou of digestion."
Sergius Grata, according to Pliny,* was the first to
conceive and carry into execution the formation of
oyster-beds. He made extensive reservoirs at Baise, in
which he deposited countless thousands of these shell-
fish. A palace was reared in the vicinity, where the
naturalist's chosen friends were wont to regale them-
selves once a-week with these delicious fish. Many
slaves were employed at Eome in her early days tran-
sporting the oyster from its ocean-beds to the imperial
city. The expense of this was so enormous that a
government mandate was issued prohibiting the frequent
importation of the shell-fish. Pliny tells us they were
often preserved in ice.
This writer says that oysters abound in rocky shores of
the Propontis. He likewise affirms, though very errone-
ously, that they have no feeling whatever ; whereas they
are known to be of an extremely sensitive nature.f The
* Lib. ix. c. 54. f Cuvier.
2:12 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
same author again affirms that oysters are produced from
mud in a putrid state, or else from the foam that has
collected around ships which have been lying for a long
time in one position, about posts driven into the earth,
and more especially, around logs of wood. It has been
discovered of late years in the oyster-beds, that the
animal discharges an impregnating liquid, which has the
appearance of milk. This fact was unknown to Aris-
totle, who, in his work, " Grener. Anim." Book iii. c. 11,
expressly denies that the oyster secreted any generative
or fecundlng liquid.*
The middle age writers, unable to conceive how men
ever came to be directed to the eating of oysters, invented
a legend to solve the logical difficulty. It is simply this :
A man was walking one day by the sea-shore, and picked
up one of these bivalves, just when it was in the act of
gaping. Looking into the interior, he saw a remarkably
smooth and polished surface, and, being of an inquisitive
turn of mind, he insinuated his finger between the shells,
that he might feel this glossy and shining material. His
finger was soon fixed as in a vice. By violence he got it
withdrawn, and immediately put his finger in his mouth,
as we see young boys do when an injury is inflicted on
any of their digits. Oyster-juice was for the first time
brought in contact with the human palate. The deli-
ciousness of the flavour at once convinced him he had
made an important discovery ; so he opened the shells by
force, and enjoyed a rich banquet on the contents. Oyster
eating became fashionable from that day to this. We
think it not unlikely that this legend, somewhat lame,
* Pliny's "jSat. Hist." Book ix.
OYSTERS. 213
gave rise to a modern joke, How to open oysters. " Take
a feather and tickle the oyster on the shell until you have
caused it to laugh, when you can insert a stick, or your
toe or finger, or anything to prevent its closing, until you
can get a knife. This requires considerable dexterity,
but it is considered a very neat way where it is practised."
The literary gossip connected with oysters is varied
and curious. Callisthenes, the philosopher, a disciple of
Aristotle's, and the companion of Alexander the Grreat
in his Persian expedition, was a devoted epicure in
oysters. It is related that it was after eating voraciously
of this fish one evening, that he delivered that offensive
speech to his royal master which induced the conqueror
to put him to death. The Roman tyrant, Caligula, was
likewise passionately fond of this fish.* Perhaps this
may have led Butler, in his " Hudibras," to connect this
cruel madman with the oyster, though not precisely in
the way of eating it :
" So the Emperor Caligula,
That triumph'd o'er the British sea,
Took crabs and oysters prisoners,
And lobsters 'stead of cuirassiers.''
"We are told in the Chronicles of the University of
Paris, that when the scholastic disputes were more than
usually rife and boisterous in that emporium of learning,
in the twelfth and following centuries, the students were
in the habit of rehearsing the debates over oyster suppers,
and that many fierce and violent scenes were then wit-
nessed in those logico-gladiatorial encounters. Louis
VIII., who died in 1226, was so enamoured with hia
* Bellon. " Opera," folio, Paris, 1529.
2-14 OLD FACES IN" NEW MASKS.
cook for the savoury manner that he was wont to furbish
up oysters for the royal table, that he invested him with
the title of nobility, and allowed him a handsome annual
pension. Louis XI. was in the habit of inviting all the
members of the College of the Sorbonne in Paris once
every year to a feast on oysters ; and on one of these
festive occasions, a distinguished theologian of this famous
seat of learning missed his way from the royal palace,
and was found drowned the next morning in the Seine.
After this untoward event, no more oyster dinners were
given to the learned doctors of the Sorbonne.
On the 5th of March, 1597, the son of the Constable,
Duke de Montmorency, was baptized at the Hotel de
Montmorency. Henry IY. was sponsor, and the Pope's
Legate officiated. So sumptuous was the banquet that
all the cooks of Paris were employed eight days in making
preparations. Oysters occupied an especial place, and
were served up in sixteen different modes.*
Cervantes, the inimitable author of " Don Quixote,"
has left a testimony of his fondness for oysters. He
wrote a short drama, wherein the oyster-dealers of Spain
were sarcastically dealt with. His enemies, of whom he
had many, accused him of spending all his substance in
riotous feasts on this shell-fish. This accusation is
formally denied by his biographer, though he allows
that, chiefly from the life of poverty the great novelist
was doomed to lead, he was often driven to pay frequent
visits to the lowest kind of oyster-houses of Madrid. In
one of these he had a quarrel with an officer of the army
which led to a duel, and, though Cervantes then wanted
" History of Paris."
OYSTERS. 245
an arm, lost in the famous naval battle of Lepanto, he
came out of the conflict conqueror, and rendered his
antagonist a cripple for life.* A French traveller, speak-
ing of these oyster-shops of the Spanish metropolis, in
the middle of the last century, says " that they were
among the lowest places in point of decency and morals
in the city. Every night they were densely filled with
the vilest rabble, men and women, who sat and devoured
incredible quantities of oysters, using them with such large
quantities of strong pepper, as would consume a French-
man's stomach in a short time." The author adds, in
another portion of his work, " I have seen a dozen of
ecclesiastics attending in an evening the low oyster-
houses of the metropolis, mixing with the most notorious
miscreants of the place, and eating such enormous
quantities of the shell-fish, that I have often wondered
that some of them did not die from sheer repletion. "f
Dr. Richard Bentley was a greedy devourer of oysters.
One of his friends had affirmed that he never could pass
a place where they were exposed for sale without stop-
ping and conversing about, if he could not then eat
them. We have an admirable letter of his, written when
on a visit to the country, in which this shell-fish is
highly extolled. It is dated 1740, being just two years
before his death. The following passages are taken
from it :
" Now, I write to tell you that to be in the country
is a dull affair, if you view it under a certain aspect.
When you come into a new scene, you must not expect
* "Life." Barcelona, 1792.
f Biot, " Lettres de Esp.," vol. ii.
246 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
to be at home in a moment. Nature may say to you
very kindly ' Make yourself at home ;' but nature says
it just as any other sensible personage does, not with the
expectation that you will do it, but only to show a spirit
of hospitality. For it is quite impossible that you
should be acquainted with scenery in a moment. Nature
is both frank and shy. Like well-bred people, she re-
ceives you graciously in all common intercourse, but
confidentially, only after she has found you out, and
knows you to be worthy. Sudden intimacies are always
shallow. Wells quickly dug are quickly dry. "We
have never been able to force matters in thus growing
acquainted with new scenery and places. "We can never
get along but only so fast. Things must begin to be
familiar before we can comprehend their full meaning;
and familiarity comes not from dunning and questioning
not by putting at things, as a burglar would at a lock,
punching and screwing but by a natural and gradual
opening of things to us by a growing sensibility in us to
them. For man is always the pupil of nature ; he is
a 1 ways under a system of education. He is for ever a
disciple, not a master, before nature. He that knows
more than nature about beauty, will get very little help
from her.
" My great relief and amusement here is my regular
supply of oysters. These things must have been made
in heaven. They are delectable, satisfying, delicious,
and mentally stimulating, in a high degree. I can indite
matter by the yard when I have had a good meal of
them. I get them done in all manner of ways, and it is
difficult to say which is the best, such are the intrinsic ex-
OTSTEES. 247
cellencies of the raw material. I have, however, a secret
relish for the scalloped fashion above every other."
We cannot take upon ourselves to say that the eating
of oysters necessarily gives additional impetus to the
pugnacious qualities of human nature ; but we have two
instances which speculative minds, if so disposed, might
torture into immediate cause and effect. The enmity
which subsisted between Dr. Walcot (Peter Pindar) and
"William Gifford, the editor of the Quarterly Review,
is well known in literary circles, and was of the most
bitter kind. Peter published his " Cut at a Cobbler"
(Gifford had been originally a shoemaker), which
grievously annoyed the irritable critic, who made a
regular onslaught in his journal on the satirical poet.
Peter laid down the pen, and resolved upon paying back
the compliment, with a horsewhip. He went into an
oyster-shop somewhere in the Strand, where he ate a
goodly supply of the fish, and coolly waited till he saw
Gifford pass. He then gave him a good thrashing. The
next case is of a more repulsive character. Bellingham,
who shot Percival in the lobby of the House of Commons
in 1812, had, as it came out in evidence at the police-
court, been seen regaling himself in an oyster-shop at
the foot of the Haymarket, about an hour before he
committed the act of assassination.
The learned and celebrated Erasmus had one pecu-
liarity, humorously noticed by himself, that he could
not bear the smell of oysters, or any other kind of shell-
fish. On this he observed, that though a good Catholic
in other respects, he had a most heterodox and Lutheran
stomach.
243 OLD FACES IX NEW MASKS.
Pope, besides being proverbial for his love of lobsters,
was likewise extremely partial to stewed oysters ; and he
once wrote to Lord Bolingbroke to say, that he would
with pleasure wait upon him at dinner if his lordship
would indulge him with a stew of this favourite shell-
fish. Thomson, the author of the "Seasons," died at
Richmond from the effects of fever, brought on, it was
alleged, from his having sailed from Somerset House to
this place in an open boat. But there is another version
of the affair, that he had supped sumptuously of oysters
the night previous to his illness ; and this surfeit, as it is
termed, was said to be the proximate cause of his fatal
disorder.*
The quantity of oysters that can be devoured by
some individuals is quite astonishing. It has been said
that the late Sir Adam Ferguson, Keeper of the Regalia,
at Edinburgh, and Sir Walter Scott, when a young man,
used to eat a good sized barrel of the fish in a single
evening. De Blainville mentions that he knew persons
who could eat from fifteen to twenty dozen, without feel-
ing any unpleasant results from the repast. f These
examples do not, of course, refer to the celebrated Singa-
pore oysters (Tridacna gig as), which weigh about four
hundred pounds each ; a shell of one of which may now
be seen at No. 36, Maiden Lane, Covent Garden.
Oyster suppers were very common and fashionable in
the literary circles of Paris during the greater portion of
the last century. We hear of them in memoirs, sketches
of French society, and other light publications of that day.
They seem to have formed the staple article of nourish-
* " London Magazine.'.' f " CEuvres." Paris,
OYSTERS. 249
ment and pleasurable excitement to the "Encyclopedists,"
who were viewed, at the time they were actively engaged
in their arduous undertaking, with mingled feelings
of admiration and fear. Diderot, Voltaire, Helvetius,
D'Alembert, and the Abbe Eeynal, seem all to have
indulged in luxurious evening jollifications on this shell-
fish. We read notes of invitation to these and other
savans of the following kind : " Madame la Marquise du
Deffand requests the pleasure of your company this
evening at her residence, to meet our mutual friends,
Helvetius and Count de Buffon, to partake of a dish of
oysters." " Madame So-and-so's compliments to M.
Diderot, and if he is not seriously engaged, will be glad
to see him this evening at our hotel, to join us in a dish
of oysters, to meet MM. So-and-so." In one of the
satirical pieces in verse, labelled against the irritability
of E/ousseau, who often mingled in these evening parties
with the distinguished men now named, he is accused of
gluttony, and of an unnatural voraciousness for oysters,
lobsters, and other shell-fish. The lines will not bear
translation.
During the violent and bloody stages of the first
French revolution, the oyster-shops of Paris were noted
places of rendezvous for many of the notorious political
characters of the hour. The Girondist party had an
oyster emporium near to the place where the Bastille
stood, which Brissot, Condorcet, and other notables of
this section of Revolutionists, were in the habit of
frequently meeting, and consulting on public events.
There were two or three of these shops in the lowest
purlieus of the city ; one in the vicinity of the prison of
250 OLD PACES Itf ]*EW MASKS.
La Force, where Danton, Couthon, Robespierre, and
others, regaled themselves with the exhiliratiiig bivalve.
In one of the daily journals of the time, we have found
the following paragraph: "When Condorcet was in-
duced to leave Paris from motives of personal security,
and betake himself for temporary shelter to the pro-
vinces, he was conducted by two of his friends, during the
night, to a well-known oyster-shop, where he remained
concealed for three days. On the fourth, early in the
morning, the mistress of the house clothed him in female
attire, and conducted him herself beyond the barriers of
the city. Her humanity and self-devotion led her, how-
ever, into trouble. She was taken to prison, but on the
termination of the Reign of Terror, she again obtained
her liberty." It has been often noticed that in the tem-
porary famine that prevailed among the Parisians during
several epochs of this great national movement^ bread
and oysters were considered great luxuries, and could be
obtained only by a favourite class of the citizens.
Peter the Great of Russia was so fond of oysters,
that he never sat down to a dinner at which they were
not served up in two or three culinary fashions. When
he was at Woolwich dockyard, learning the trade of
a shipwright, he was in the habit of visiting an old
woman who kept an oyster-shop there, and had occa-
sionally long confabulations with her touching her
peculiar line of business. Both at St. Petersburg and
Moscow, the oyster- dealers were especial favourites with
him. He was in the habit of calling them his life-
preservers.*
* Smellie's " Life," etc. London, 1796.
OYSTERS. 251
When Napoleon I. was in his best humour at the
termination of his diplomatic labours, he was accustomed
to take leave of his plenipotentiaries with, " Go and
dine with Cambaceres." This distinguished individual
was in the habit of using his table as an important state
engine ; and one of the chief things that he prided him-
self upon were the varied and unique modes he had of
cooking oysters. To dine when these shell-fish were
used, was considered both a high honour and one of the
gastronomic luxuries of the day, even in France, where
cookery is a specific science. It is mentioned that
Napoleon, the night before the famous battle of Auster-
litz, supped heartily of oysters.
So early as the days of Pliny, we have statements as
to the social habits of oysters. This philosopher tells us
that they have a king, and that their form of government
is something approaching to a patriarchal monarchy.
In his day, the diver made it his first business to catch
the royal oyster, because his (or, if a queen, her) majesty,
being of great age and experience, was also possessed of
marvellous sagacity, which was called into exercise
solely for the public good ; but if this were taken, the
other oysters might be caught without difficulty, just as
a swarm of bees may be secured when the queen is made
prisoner. Dr. Southey, on this subject, remarks that,
" Seeing, however, that his oyster majesty is not to be
heard of now at any of the oyster-shops in London, nor
known at Colchester or Milton, it may be that liberal
opinions have, in the march of intellect, extended to the
race of oysters ; that monarchy has been abolished among
them ; and that republicanism prevails at this day
252 OLD FACES Iff NEW MASKS.
throughout all oysterdom, or at least in those parts
of it which lie near the British shores. It has been
observed, by a judicious author, that no such king of
the oysters has been found in the "West Indian pearl
fisheries."*
" As stupid as an oyster," has long been a proverb ;
but if we are to rely on some writers, these shell-fish are
not devoid of some sparks of rationality. Gemosius,
who wrote on the " Loves of the Fishes," maintained,
and proved his point by actual experiment, that oysters
are susceptible of the tender passion. Another writer
affirms that this fish could distinguish sounds, and had a
positive musical ear ! We have, in addition to these
rather marvellous qualities, a statement from one of our
American cousins, which goes even a little further in
eulogizing the intellect of this bivalve. "We shall abridge
the story : " Very sagacious creeters," chimed in an old
salt, who was carefully laying up nettings for his ham-
mock clews. " I know'd a dog once as would tell the
time a' day by the skipper's nose, and would drink grog,
too, like a Christian."
" Bless ye," again broke out the gaunt, bony fisher-
man, " dogs isn't a circumstance to oysters for sagacious-
ness ! "Why, mateys, I was on the pint of tellin' you,
that after my trip to Greenland and the coast of Labra-
dor, the old people thought I had 'bout sowed my wild
oats." " I thought you said grass," twanged in the young
mountaineer ; but the whaler, without deigning to glance
at the cub, went on. " And I settled down stiddy at the
oyster business. Nat Pochick and me was 'prentices in
* " The Doctor."
OYSTERS. 253
an oyster-smack for better than five years, in war times
too, until our time was out, when we bought the old
smack at a bargain, and drove a lively trade in the same
business. We used to take the oysters, where the best
on 'em comes from, along the moniment shore, down
about Plymouth, and we ran 'em through the Vineyard
Sound to York, by way of Montank. Well, one day,
when we had a full cargo, like darned fools we tried to
shorten the distance, to be first in the market, by runnin'
outside of JSTantucket ; but jest as we got oif Skonset,
what should we see but the old Ramillies, seventy -four,
the admiral's ship, a-hiddin under Tom Nover's Head ;
and in less than a minute an eighteen-pound shot came
spinning across our bows, and two big double-banked
boats was making the water white as they pulled towards
us. We know'd, as well as could be, that them British-
ers did'nt want the old smack, nor care a snap for the
oysters; but we did think sartin, that they wouldn't
mind clappin' hold on two sich likely chaps as my part-
ner and me, to serve under the king's flag. So we up
helm and ran the smack and the cargo slap on the Old
Man's Shoal ; but jest afore she struck we jumped into
the yawl and paddled to the beach, where we saved being
captured. Well, the smack was knocked into splinters
by the breakers in less than an hour. Now, my hearties,"
said the whaler, as he paused and gazed about the group
of listeners, " every blessed one of them oysters went
back to the beds where they were took, as much as a
hundred miles from the reef where the old craft was
wrecked ! And there's great Black Dan, of Marsfield,
will tell you the same ; for ye must bear in mind that
254 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
oyster-men have their private marks on the oysters, and
them was found in kitching the oysters again. This,
boys, was the last trip as ever we made in that trade,
though JSTat Pochick, out of sheer fondness for the things,
established himself on the Old Boston Bridge, where he
is to this day, opening his five or six thousand oysters of
an evening, which he sells off like hot cakes in the
arternoons."
The oyster, as just mentioned, has been considered,
by those naturalists who have written on the " Loves of
Fishes," as highly susceptible of the tender passion. An
American writer has given us the following lines on the
subject :
" Not in the land where beauty loves to dwell,
And bards to sing that beauty dwelleth there ;
Not in the land where rules th' enchanter's spell
And fashion's beings beautiful and rare ;
Not in such land are laid the scenes I tell.
No odours float upon its sunny air ;
No ruddy vintage, and no tinted flowers
Gladden its fields or bloom within its bowers.
" Mine is a lowlier lay the unquiet deep
The world of waters ; where man's puny skill
Has but along its service dared to creep ;
The quaking vassal of its wayward will,
Exultant only when its calm waves sleep,
And its rough voice is noiseless all and still,
And trembling when its crested hosts arise,
Housed from their slumbers by the wind's wild cries.
" None but the dead have visited its caves !
None but the dead pressed its untrampled floor.
Eyes, but all sightless, glare beneath its waves,
And forms earth's worshippers might well adore,
OF.STERS. 255
Lie in their low and ever-freshened graves,
All cold and loveless far beneath its roar.
The bright-eyed maiden and the fair-haired bride,
And sire and son there slumber side by side.
" Smile not, ye wise ones, at my lowly lay,
Nor deem it strange that underneath a shell
High thoughts exert their ever-ruling sway
And soft affections scorn not there to dwell.
That in an oyster's breast the living ray
Of mind beams forth ; or that its young thoughts swell
Less vauntingly in pride of place or birth
Than aught that breathes upon our upper earth.
" Of blighted hopes and confidence betrayed
Of princely dames and wights of low degree
The story of a high-born oyster maid
And her calm lover, of low family :
And how they met beneath their oft-sought shade,
The spreading branches of a coral- tree.
Attended by a periwinkle page,
Selected chiefly for his tender age.
" Sing scaly music."*
Omens and dreams are considered under the influ-
ence of oysters. In the south of France, people believe
at this hour that to eat this fish after the hour of mid-
night, is to invoke the evil spirits from their dwelling.
The facetious Melton held the old belief of the effects
of the sea-tide on the size of oysters. He says, " By the
increase and decrease of the moone, some creatures are
augmented and diminished, as oysters and other shell-
fish." He tells us again, by way of irony, "By the
seventh house you will judge what wife you will have,
* Sandford.
258 OLD FACES ITT NEW MASKS.
whether she will be as mute as an oyster, or have a
tongue as long as a fish woman's." In some districts of
Hungary, when a clergyman is appointed to a church,
his parishioners present him, on the first Sunday, with a
dish of stewed oysters, mixed with sweet wines and
liqueurs. Paracelsus, whose head was filled with spiri-
tual agencies of all kinds, was a voracious devourer of
oysters ; and he maintained that when he ate lightly of
them, he saw the most delectable visions, but when he
was induced to go beyond this temperate scale, he saw
the entire host of the infernal regions.* Jerome Garden
had likewise many superstitious notions about the eating
of oysters when the moon was at the full.
To dream of eating oysters foretells prosperity, and
that you'll be married to a lady who will love you ; but
if you should dream of letting them fall, you will lose
the affections of the lady, for she is betrothed to another,
and will soon be married.t
The Bishop of Worcester's Curing Powder. Take a
pound of fine oyster-shells, taken from the sea when the
sun enters Cancer, which is every year on the eleventh day
of June ; and pick and wash them clean, and beat them
into fine powder, which finely sieve ; and then take musk
and civit, of each three grains, ambergris twelve grains ,
rub them in the bottom of the mortar. The dose is
seven or eight grains in beer or wine.J
We read in a modern book of travels, by an American
author, that some of the tribes of Patagonians observe
* " Works," vol. ii. Paris, 1792.
t "Lune Notturno o vero prattica di Sagni." Bologna, 1614.
+ "Tlie Queen's Closet Opened," p. 54.
OTSTEES. 257
various superstitious ceremonies or incantations by means
of the oyster. Among a native tribe called Yamashonar,
a custom prevails, that, whenever severe sickness makes
its appearance among them, they assemble in a body,
range themselves in a circle, and perform many curious
but unmeaning gesticulations with oyster-shells in their
hands. This being done, a heap of these shells are
collected, the tribe dance round it, muttering a shrill
scream, and then the ceremony terminates.
Oysters were especial objects of attention among the
ancient physicians. Hippocrates speaks highly of their
salutary and medicinal virtues. Zeno and Crato, two
medical authors who lived in the times of Plutarch,
commend oysters above all other kinds of fish to their
sick patients. The reasons they give for this diet are,
that the flesh of the oyster has less acidity, and more
nutritious particles, than other kinds of shell-fish. AVhen
compared with the common run of river and sea fish, they
are more strengthening, lest moist and clammy, easier of
concoction, sooner turned into blood, and fitter for man's
body. " It is universally allowed," say these two
physicians, " that some oysters are better than others,
their relative goodness depending upon the locality
where they are bred. Those near Leptis in Africa* in
IZiibcea and about DyrrliacJiium, are best suited to the
stomachs of invalids." Aldrovandus says that the oyster
has a soft fattening flesh, and a rich delicacy of flavour,
and when eaten with onions, apples, vinegar, and oil,
their natural agreeableness is considerably heightened,
He adds, " Oysters are a usual and common meal, both
* Caspar Pencer.
258 OLD FACES IF NEW MASKS.
for the nobility and for the poor ; the former using them
for variety and wantonness' sake, and the latter for the
want of other food. This fish is the chief support of
Lent."* Lemery, another medical writer of note, tells
us that oysters are very nourishing, easy of digestion,
and produce good juice. He asks, if any one ever knew
any bad consequences from their use ?
Medical superstition and quackery have made very
free with the oyster. Pickled oysters were often pre-
scribed as a cataplasm to the feet in fevers, particularly
when "the spirits, being vehemently irritated, fly into
explosions, and in pertinacious watchings, phrenzies, and
convulsions." In such cases, it is said, they draw the
humours downwards, and thereby relieve the head. An
elixir is made of the shells of the fish, which is a sove-
reign remedy for " low spirits, melancholy, and literary
abeisrations, whimsies, and crudities of the nerves." It
is as follows : Take ten pounds of oyster-shells, dried
and grossly powdered ; put them in a retort, lute it, and
place it in an open furnace give it a degree of fire every
two hours, till no fumes are seen in the receiver. Then
let all cool, and there will be an oil, a volatile salt, and
a pungent volatile spirit ; which put in a clean retort,
and by fire unite together. Then take eight ounces of
this united spirit, and put into a cucurbit, with two
pounds of rectified spirits of nitre, one pound of diapho-
retic antimony, and four ounces of volatile salt of tartar.
Let them be well united. Then add an ounce of oil of
nutmeg, and half an ounce of oil of cinnamon, digest in a
matrass ten days, and pour off for use, and put into a
* Aldrovandus, " Opera." Basil.
OTSTEES. 259
well-stopped bottle. A dose of this is from four to ten
drops.*
The proverbs, or common sayings about oysters, are
not very numerous. We give the following, the moral
or meaning of which is obvious ;
" A man may come to market though he don't buy oysters."
" As like an apple as an oyster."
" As stupid as an oyster."
" Don't blunt your razor with opening another man's oyster."
" Oysters are not good in a month that hath not an E in it."
" The Mayor of Northampton opens oysters with his dagger."
(This last seems less proverbial than plain sailing ; less
an applicable saying than matter of history; for Grose
tells us that the mayor did this to keep the oysters from his
nose. The town being inland, and at least eighty miles
from the sea, the oysters formerly brought thither were
generally stale ; but since turnpike roads, and the present
(i.e., Grose means the then) expeditious mode of travel-
ling, his worship of Northampton may open oysters with
as little offence to his nose as his magisterial brother at
Dover or any other seaport.)
" The increasing moon plumps up the slippery oyster."
'* (Lubrioa nascentes implent conchylia Iuna3." HOE.)
" Undone, as a man would undo an oyster."
Nicholas Monardus, a G-erman author, has written
some amusing things about the oyster. In one of these
he makes the shell-fish address the other sections of
animated nature after the following fashion : " I stand
at the head of creation in this lower world. My habita-
tion is the mighty ocean, the source of health and purity
to all animal life. My origin is free from all taint of
* Marclialeus.
260 OLD FACES ITS NEW MASKS.
sensuality and grossness. I am born of the celestial
spheres of the orbs of heaven of the brilliant stars.
;,My weapons are those of defence, not of warfare. I am
a type of. universal peace, brotherhood, and good- will. I
live the life of serenity, repose, peace, and contentment.
'No growling passions no sordid desires no jealous, ap-
prehensions no selfish purposes adhere to my nature.
I live surrounded by liquid nectar an elixir of life 1 a
restorative of invigorating power which no other animal
possesses. When I move to southern and warmer lati-
tudes, I become more valuable in the eyes of the world.
I there give birth to jewels of great price, and am
anxiously and laboriously sought after. I figure at the
courts of kings give the finishing eclat to breathless
aspirations of princesses become the standard of rank,
position, and social and public honour, and am always the
most attractive and envied in the bustling crowd of gaiety
and fashion. All other beauties sink into nothingness
when compared to me. I am the admiration and envy
of the world. The low and vulgar stand in awe be-
fore me."*
The chasquis, or runners of Peru, were in the habit,
before its conquest by Spain, of carrying oysters from* the
ocean to the court of the Incas, If we may trust Monte-
sinos, the royal table was served with this fish, taken one
hundred leagues from the capital, in twenty-four hours
after they were removed from their beds in the sea.f
A lively and able writer of the present age, in dis-
cussing that knotty question the Source of the Beautiful,
* " Donarius Amphitheatrium." Hanover, 1819.
t " Mem. Autiquas," MS. lib. ii ; ., cap. 7.
OYSTEES. 261
has derived one of his illustrations from the power of the
oyster, among other fishes and savoury objects, to main-
tain his point. He says, " If you deny that matter can
produce emotion, judge on these civil occasions (at Fish-
mongers' Hall) of the power of gusts, and relishes, and
flavours." Look at men when (as Bishop Taylor says)
they are "gathered round the eels of Syene, and the
oysters of Lucrinus, and when the Lesbian and Chian
wines descend through the limbec of the tongue and
larynx ; when they receive the juices of fishes, and the
marrow of the laborious ox, and the tender lard of the
Apulian swine, and the condited stomach of the scarus ;" r
is this nothing but mere sensation ? is there no emotion,
no panting, no wheezing, no deglutition? Is this the calm
acquisition of intelligence, and the quiet office ascribed
to the senses ? or is it a proof that nature has infused
into her original creations, the power of gratifying that
sense which distinguishes them, and to every atom of
matter has added an atom of joy ?"*
During the party discussions which were rife about a
quarter of a century ago, about Negro emancipation, the
following lines were published in a London periodical,
ridiculing, through the means of the oyster, the over-
strained philanthropy of the hour :
THOUGHTS OF AN OYSTEE SEATED UPON A GEIDIEON".
" They've borne me afar from mj native bed,
Where c such a beauty I did grow ;'
And from dredger to dealer, in bustle and dread,
I've been tumbled about till I wish'd myself dead;
And now, by my beard, I am pretty well sped,
For my frame's in the devil's own glow!
* " Sketches of Moral Philosophy," by Rev. Sidney Smith.
262 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
*' So ho ! what the plague is this piercing my shell ?
Sure it is flame rising hotter and hotter !
Why, an oyster of quality might just as well
Take kitchen-floor lodgings in fire-eating h ,
Or make up his mind, like a mumchance to dwell
In the mullock- stowed maw of an otter 1
<e Accurst is my fate ! I'm all shrivelled up !
Never more shall I rest on the banks
Where, before love was cross' t, I oft tasted the nup-
Tial delight to be drawn from the conjugal cup ;
Now I am doomed to be dished that some boobies may sup,
And fatten their indolent flanks.
" Oh, Neptune! oh, Yenus, release a poor oyster,
Who swears in the heat of devotion
For the rest of his life, like a monk in his cloister,
He'll shrink in his shell from the touch of the Roister,
And never (if once he get back), heed the oyster
Who'd tempt him to leave the green ocean.
" Vain, vain is my prayer ! The powers will not save !
I'm fated in flame to expire !
So I'll die like a hero, as modest as brave.
My beard is now singed without water I shave
Contented my carcase I give to the grave,
While my spirits flare up with the fire !
e Oh you, when broiled oysters at supper delight,
Kemember this dying one's moan ;
And whenever to chambers you chance to invite,
Or at the gay civic feasts are for making a night,
Be sure that no shell-fish, in desperate plight,
Hath curst you with death's frantic groan."
"We shall now draw our remarks to a close with the
OTSTEES. 263
following American story, which, we believe, has not
appeared on this side of the Atlantic :
Not many years since there flourished in one of the
southern cities on the Atlantic coast, a certain original,
eccentric individual, whose sole occupation was the pur-
suit of the oyster trade, of course under difficulties. It
was on a grand scale, and " Old Shell," as he was nick-
named, was a prime favourite with all the young bucks,
roystering blades, and fast men about town. He was a
passionate admirer of oysters in every shape. His food
was almost exclusively oysters. He bet on oysters. He
studied oysters. In fine, he was emphatically an oyster-
man.
" Old Shell," one summer, took it into his head that
a trip to the north would be of advantage to his health,
moral and physical. To resolve to do anything, and to do
it, were with him one and the same thing. He went.
On arriving at New Tork, he put up at a fashion-
able hotel ; and as he was a tall, fine-looking man,
dressed well, and spent his money freely, he soon became
almost as much a favourite in the north as he was in the
south.
There was one thing about him, however, that puzzled
every one. On the hotel book of arrivals, his name was
entered in full, with the following capital letters, in a
large sprawling hand, attached E.R.S. On his cards
the same mysterious letters appeared. " Mr. So-and-so,
of such a city, P.E.S." He never would explain their
meaning, and great, of course, was the small-talk and
chit-chat about it. The "gossip market" rose above
par in the course of three days.
264 OLD PACES IS FEW MASKS.
One morning, a newly-come English gentleman, of
middle age and grave aspect, was looking over the list of
arrivals. He was struck by the mysterious letters, as
every one else had been.
"F.K.S.," muttered he ; "it can't be! yet there the
letters are ! "Who would have thought it ?"
The clerk was called up, and requested to explain.
He knew nothing more than that one of the boarders
and lodgers had put his name down with that handle
attached.
tl Show him to me !" said the Englishman, eagerly.
" There he goes now, sir," said the clerk, pointing to
our hero.
The next moment " Old Shell " felt his hand grasped
by another hand, whilst his arm went through a rapid
and vigorous motion, familiarly known as the " pump-
handle action." It was the Englishman ; his face beam-
ing with cordiality.
" Delighted to meet you, sir ! Had not the slightest
idea of seeing one of our society on this side of the
water ! When were you a member ? My memory is so
defective."
" Member of what ? " said " Old Shell," half sur-
prised, half angry.
" Oh, don't be so modest, my dear sir!"
Modest ! the deuce ! "What society ?"
" No bashfulness, now ! You are a Fellow, I know."
"Dash my buttons, stranger!" exclaimed "Shell,"
thoroughly indignant ; " do you call me a fellow ? "
" Fellow of the Hoyal Society, sir. You mistake my
meaning. Fellow of the Eoyal Society of London."
OTSTEES. 265
" I am no Londoner, man ; I come from down South,
I do. I am an oyster-man, I am."
" Why, what on earth does P.E.S. mean, then,
attached to your name ? " said the astonished English-
man, science and surprise beaming from his countenance.
" "Well, stranger, I don't care if I do tell you ! You
see I like oysters, I .do ; and F.B.S. means adzackly
nothing more nor less than Fried, Roasted, and
Stewed!"
266 OLD PACES IK NEW MASKS.
ON THE GENEEALITIES OF LITEEATUEE
AND AET.
THE influence of general principles, and the modes of
their development and application, have constituted one
of the many curious and puzzling problems connected
with the science of mind. Erom the earliest ages of
speculation we find philosophers attempting to solve these
knotty questions ; and even at the present hour the sub-
ject of our abstract-general conceptions is wrapped in
great obscurity. "We are not going, however, to attempt
a solution of these enigmas, nor trespass on the peculiar
province of the metaphysician. Our aim is more prac-
tical and humble. We only wish to speak of matters
within the cognizance of every man who thinks at all of
his own inward principles of action. "We desire to treat
of matters immediately connected with light literature
and art. Authors, critics, and artists are just made
what they are by the use they make of general rules and
principles. These are the tools they are constantly
working with. To make a few remarks on the divers
ways these are applied, and influence our judgment of
men and things, is the chief object we have now in view.
General principles are likewise of great moment in
all the branches of scientific and philosophical truth.
Indeed, many thinkers have affirmed that all philosophy,
GENERALITIES OF LITERATURE AND ART. 267
properly so called, whether material or mental, is nothing
more than a mode or fashion of collecting or arranging
general rules and axioms. On this point we shall not
enlarge. The subject would prove too vast and recon-
dite. "We shall, therefore, confine our observations to
literary works of a biographical, historical, imaginative,
descriptive, and critical kind ; and in art, to that depart-
ment of it which goes under the common denomination
of painting. In these several branches of mental skill
and labour, we shall be able to elucidate many singular
phenomena of our intellectual economy, and to point out
to the ordinary reader many of the sources of his mental
pleasures and acquisitions.
There is a piece of mental machinery set in motion in
every individual, which performs its wondrous opera-
tions almost unheeded and unrecognized. It may tech-
nically be termed synthesis and analysis; or, in more
homely terms, gathering together into a heap, and a sub-
sequent separation of parts. Upon the manner this piece
of mechanism is worked, rests the degree of merit and
effect which belongs to every literary and artistic work.
The adroitness and skill displayed in wielding this power
determine the share of fame which we render to authors
and artists. This standard of value is founded, however,
upon some of the most subtile powers or energies of our
nature. It can be best illustrated by examples.
Let us take, for instance, a literary work in bio-
graphy. We write the life of a man. How do we do
this ? Do we recount every deed or movement of his
life ? By no means. "We first take a glance of his
career as a whole, or in the abstract ; survey it a little ;,
268 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
look at its totality from various aspects ; and then begin
to separate, to cull out, and to descant upon particular
parts or incidents in the individual's narrative. But in
doing all this there is a constant reference to some
general end, object, principle, impression, purport, or
design. This general thing is perpetually before the
mind's eye. It is to us what the line and plummet are in
the hands of the master builder. "We are always culling,
and squaring, and rejecting, and amalgamating our bio-
graphical materials so as to effect the grand object we
have in view. Perhaps we want to write the life of a
friend a divine of some eminence. Well, we must
work up our mass of facts and observations to make him
as interesting and amiable as possible. Our materials
must be tinted and coloured in conformity to the end we
have in the mind's eye. There must be unity and con-
sistency displayed in our workmanship. Hundreds of
incidents in our friend's life would not answer this pur-
pose. It would be no use to give a faithful account,
were it even possible, of all he had done, eaten, drank,
or travelled. All ^such things, though they make up,
with other things, the life of every man, that of the
divine as well as others, yet they must nearly all be
kept in the background. Should any particular incident
be dragged into open day, it must be for the purpose of
telling a tale, or pointing a moral, interesting to the
world at large. The life of even the most illustrious of
the human race, ia made up of very low and intrinsically
worthless materials; and it is only by putting them
through the crucible of generalization, that they can be
made transparent and shining, so as to rivet our atten-
tion and esteem.
GENERALITIES OF LITERATURE AND ART. 269
Again, perchance, we are induced to pen a biogra-
phical sketch of some illustrious warrior. We follow
here the same plan as in the preceding case of the
clergyman. We scan over the entire life of the general ;
form a sort of abstract or compendium of its importance
or worth ; and then begin to select, and fix on those
incidents in his career we are desirous of using to point
put the moral or truth we wish to inculcate. Every
thing the hero said and did would probably were it
possible to give a detailed account of it mar the grand
object of our labours. We must, therefore, separate
the abstract conception of his life into its individual
elements ; look over the whole in this state of particular
isolation ; and then pick and choose our incidents and
events according to our ideal model, which is ever before
us, and which forms a pattern or type for the regulation
of our proceedings. All this subtile work goes on as
silently and unheeded as the beating of the pulse. It
rarely gives the writer a single thought. But how im-
portant a work it is. The precise manner in which it is
done the degree in which the power of abstraction or
particularizing are blended together constitutes the
elements of the writer's reputation, and the measure of
his judgment, literary qualifications, and artistic taste.
We find, from an acquaintance with biographical
works, that the particular and the general vary con-
siderably in these productions. Some men's lives will
bear more incidental and personal delineation more of
the every-day gossip and staff of life than others.'.-.: This
proportion depends on the precise aim of the biographer.
.as well as on the special character he attempts to depict.
270 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
In many lives, light and shade must be imparted.
Monotony must be avoided at any cost. At the same
time care must be taken that the biographer does not
degenerate into the frivolous and silly. As a general
rule, where the character is weighty and grave, either
from its original structure, or from social position, a
considerable portion of ordinary gossip relieves the
meagerness of the narrative, and makes it at once agree-
able and improving. The principle of contrast is here
introduced with effect. Boswell has made Dr. Johnson
a more interesting personage, from having made him a more
familiar and common one. The general tenor of his life
and deportment strikingly indicated gravity and scholastic
formality ; but the Doctor has been brought down from
his stilts, and made to act and appear more like ordinary
mortals, by the minute delineations of his indefatigable
biographer. In a recent life of Campbell, the poet, we
find the work incurring the critical severity of the late
Mr. Lockart, in the Quarterly Review, who maintained
that Dr. Beattie, the author, had not written the life of
the writer of the " Pleasures of Hope." The fact was,
that the Doctor was the intimate acquaintance and execu*
tor of Campbell jealous of his fame and reputation
and felt himself under a powerful restraint not to mention
many matters, known to others, which would have re-
dounded, perhaps, very little to the honour of the poet. But
yet the work in question is a good biography. It pictures
Campbell from a certain conventional point of view ; and
works out the general result by avoiding all that might
impair or weaken the precise impression the writer
intended should be made. The same remarks may be
GENEEALITIES OF LITEEATUEE AND AET. 271
applied to many biographies of popular reputation. They
are word pictures, which do not admit of all things being
drawn ; but only such as tell the moral or truth which
the respective writers have aimed at enforcing. All this
is effected by a dexterous and unnoticed use of generals
and particulars.
The historian has much about the same task to per-
form as the biographer has. A history of every transitory
phase of human society, would, were it possible to be
executed, prove of no utility. It is the proper selection of
facts and observations, and the fair degree of weight im-
parted to each, that constitute the bone and marrow of
sound and useful history. Here generalizing is of vital
value. A writer must have a correct general outline of the
entire period of time he purposes to descant upon ; and
having this firmly in his mind, always actively regulating
his movements, he must then commence to particularize
to select and cull out of his materials whatever is
calculated to further his views. The due balance of the
mental faculties of dealing with general and particular
ideas, is one of the cardinal qualifications of a writer of
history of any kind, whether political, scientific, literary,
or artistic. This, it may be observed, is a comparatively
rare intellectual endowment. Hence we find the com-
plaint often made, that our most esteemed and popular
histories of European countries, are, more or less, one-
sided and partial. This, though a certain and acknow-
ledged fact, is, however, almost unavoidable. Men's
party and individual views of principles connected with
all branches of human action and thought, are so varied,
and often discordant, that nothing can prevent the strong
272 OLD FACES Itf NEW MASKS.
and natural bias of the historian from running into ruts,
and giving undue weight to particular facts and inci-
dents. Our own national histories bear out this remark.
It was recently" affirmed at a public meeting, by Lord
John Russell, that as yet we had no history of England.
And, in a certain sense, this was true, if, by history, we
mean a national narrative where all social facts and cir-
cumstances are fairly and honestly brought before the
mind of the reader, stripped of the glosses and colour-
ings of individual minds, previous to its forming a candid
judgment upon them. Hume's history is strongly tinged
with his own peculiar opinions on politics and religion ;
Smollett's less so, but still in a certain degree ; Lingard's
work is decidedly an apology for Romanism ; and Ma-
caulay looks at every thing through a Whig medium.
Still all these are valuable works. They have a great
truth to tell ; and all evince the possession of the power
of generalizing, and throwing light and shade on the
historical canvas, by the judicious employment of the
particular and incidental. The surprising activity that
must be constantly manifested in the mind of the his-
torian in gathering together, and then separating and
analyzing his materials, is justly considered as one of the
many wonderful operations that our composite being
displays.
In literary works of an imaginative character, whose
name is legion, we witness the same results of our secret
powers of abstracting and analyzing. Here great care is
requisite that all matters should be excluded which do
not comport with the main design of the author. He
has a story to tell a series of emotions and passions to
GENERALITIES OF LITERATURE AND ART. 278
deal with a moral truth to develop and all his mate-
rials must be so fashioned, so as to effect his purpose.
In no branch of literary labour is the compound power
of mentally heaping up, and separating, more vigilantly
and wondrously exercised than in novels, romances,
and other kindred productions. Works of this kind
resemble in their variety and fecundity those produced
by the pencil of the painter, We have descriptions of
all states and conditions of society, delineations of all
the passions and emotions of the soul, of all the eccen-
tricities of human life; yet in these varied produc-
tions there must be unity of sentiment, object and
purpose.
In books of travels and others which deal chiefly in
description, the greatest nicety is required in the due
balance of the general and particular. If a traveller sets
about giving us an idea of the cities of London, Borne, or
Paris, he must be careful to keep his generalizing powers
in proper subjection. It is only by them that we can
obtain all the chief features or salient objects of interest
that these cities furnish. If he walk through them with a
pair of microscopic spectacles, he will defeat his purpose.
Minuteness is sometimes desirable, and gives life and
sprightliness to a narrative; but it must only be
sparingly used. It must not stand in the foreground
of the author's narrative. It must be subordinated, and
made only an incidental ingredient in his description.
Men write books of travels from many different starting
points ; some from a political, some from, a social, and
others from an artistic platform ; but whatever their aim
the same government of the generalizing faculty is im-
274 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
peratively requisite, to give a finished and useful
feature to their several productions.
The labours of the critic, whether in the field of
literature or art, are constantly under the direct influ-
ence, in a high degree, of the faculties of abstraction and
analysis. To have these powers in vigorous perfection and
in good training, are the sure means of securing pre-
eminence in his profession. He must avoid trivialities,
as a general rule, though these lend him occasionally
great assistance, and impart a seasonable relish and
piquancy to his style and criticisms. But general and
enlightened reviews of great works demand the gene-
ralizing power to be the predominate one. It alone can
lead, in the majority of cases, to great results.
Xow let us turn our attention to art, and we shall
not fail to recognize here the same subtile powers of
synthesis and analysis in constant and active operation.
Let us iake painting as our special object of examination.
When we know that certain truths are to be lightly
regarded, or even wholly disregarded for the sake of
others more important, we shall soon learn to distinguish
between an honest and noble generalization and one
which is the result of imperfect perception. In drawing
a tree we cannot represent individual leaves or the lines
and markings of its bark. These must simply be in-
dicated by a certain mottling and inequality of colour
and form, giving the confused effect of a combination in
which no particulars are discernible. So, again, the face
of a man is seen before his features are fully distin-
guished ; and in the distance many reflections and gleams
of colour are plainly seen, while the forms to which they
GENERALITIES OF LITERATURE AND ART. 275
belong are not separable by our organs. We are com-
pelled to represent surfaces as varied by many details,
which affect the sight, yet make no definite impressions.
So, if the eye is directed towards a distant point, the
objects nearer will be seen indistinctly as dark spots,
having more or less of intelligible form from the focus of
attention. The artist often chooses to direct our sight
and thought to the far or middle distance ; and for that
purpose he sinks his foreground in shadow, or treats it
not injull and accurate detail, but suggestively, showing
only the general character of objects giving something
that may be known for vegetation, but no plant that can
be botanically described.
Now let us stop a moment to throw in, paren-
thetically, an idea or two connected with art, which
it will be well that the reader should keep before him
in perusing the following observation : The eye is a
daguerreotype plate. It is not set to receive pictures,
not compose or paint them. The art of seeing well, that
is, having what is called an artistic eye> is not to think
about seeing. Let your eye alone. Let it go as clouds
go, float hither and thither at their will. Things will
come of themselves, if you are patient and receptive.
No man knows what he sees, but only what he has seen.
One looks at a great many things but sees only a few ;
and those things which come back to a man spon-
taneously which rise up as pictures afterwards, are
the things which he really saw.
But to return to our illustrations, let us, for example,
take a picture of river-side scenery, stretching out to a
bay, surrounded by masses of mountain. The air is hazy
276 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
and full of moisture. The merit of the work is its atmos-
pheric coolness the watery freshness of the day. The
foreground is quite subordinated. It is flat, confused, and,
in itself, almost unintelligible, presenting only a single dot
of positive form, which is felt rather than seen to be a
fisherman on a rock, beside the water. The painter here
wanted a piece of land to give liquidity to his water and
sky ; but he needed no objects on it no rocks, or bushes,
or leaves. His thought was fixed on the beanty above,,
around, and far away down the opening of the highland
country in the background.
So, likewise, in a print after Turner's picture of St.
Douat's Castle, Grlamorganshire, there are cows and
donkeys in the foreground, not drawn with care and
painstaking fidelity, but sketched or blotched in with a
few broad strokes, and little regard for anything more
than the general correctness of outline. They are un-
mistakeable for cows and donkeys, but they evince very
little indication of those subordinate forms which would
be visible on the animals at the distance. They are, in
fact, not set there to be looked at, but to be looked over
at the clear sky, the sombre masses of wood, and the
gleaming tower of the castle in middle tint. But the
drawing of these beasts is not feeble; it is not the
failure of one who tried to draw them, and could not r
but the decision of one who could have given every par-
ticular, even the most minute, but was satisfied, for the
artistic end in view, with a few simple facts.
Before we judge such a work as we have just named,
we must ascertain the intention of the workman. He
works by a general pattern or model for a given end or
GENERALITIES 03? LITERATURE AND ART. 277
object. If lie pretends to paint cows, he shall paint them
well ; but if he means sky, we will not miss his meaning
by fastening in criticism upon his cows. A man cannot
show everything and tell all the truth. He must con-
centrate all his force, and we demand only that he should
wisely determine what to retain and what to throw
aside. If his omission is, on the whole, a gain rather
than a loss ; if he rejects a trifling detail to emphasize by
his undivided attention a more important perception, we
gladly accept his choice.
In painting, as in poetry, many an object is used, not
for its own sake, but to give effect to something else.
Thus, a heavy tree-top, by its dark solidity, gives clear-
ness to the sky ; and this quite as effectually if it be not
drawn with careful attention to its parts.
In looking at the noble drawings of cattle by E-osa
Bonheur, my friend, who we shall suppose has an agri-
cultural enthusiasm, complained of the want of condition
and grooming in her oxen. They are not specimen
animals, he thinks ; they would not take the prize at a
state fair. But Bosa Bonheur loved and sympathized
with creatures she saw in their rough coats under their
heavy burdens. She has shown the soul of a working
ox, if he has a soul. She shows how he feels and acts ;
how he crowds or hangs off in the yoke ; how he dislikes
going down hill ; how he hurries in the hard part of the
furrow. She values the life and action of all oxen, not
the artificial condition of any. She makes you feel that
the state of the hair or the flesh is a trifle; that the
gentleman ox, fattened and curried for show, is, after all,
no more worthy of regard than this plebeian who earns
278 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
bread for his master and himself. Eosa Bonheur regards
neither the hide nor the beef, but the native powers of
the animal, that does not wait for high condition, but
appears in the rough specimen.
Again, in a lovely picture by Berghem, you see old
cows, and horses, and donkeys, lean and well-worn, not
finished specimens of their kind. But the object and
delight of the artist is their repose. The horse must be
road- worn, and world-worn, that he may thoroughly
enjoy his drowsy repose in the sun, where he winks in
sleepy satisfaction.
The horses of Darley are, like his men and women,
fair average specimens in condition, but full of character.
To represent this is the aim of the artist. He deals with
the joys and sorrows of horses and oxen. Therefore
they convey the greatest truth, and impart a high degree
of pleasure and delight. Fine development is quite
another thing, and unquestionably good in its place, but
was not wanted here.
It is unreasonable to demand everything else and re-
ject the thing that is offered to call for flowers in the
foreground, and refuse the mountain distances because
flowers are not presented.
It is equally unreasonable to demand from Augelo
that delicate symmetry of feminine form which Raphael
delights to render. The moral purpose with which he
painted prophets and sybils, would have been diluted by
the introduction of that sensuous luxury which glows in
the Galatea.
When artistic selection involves absolute disregard of
well known facts, as in the case of Turner's animals, there
GENERALITIES OF LITERATURE AND ART. 279
will be a difference of feeling in regard to the result.
He who loves detail will be offended by it. Most men en-
j y generalization within certain limits . If he goes beyond
these the artist leaves their sympathy behind. So far
as they understand him he speaks truth for them ; but if
they cannot accept his estimate of the relative importance
and subordination of objects, he seems to speak false-
hood. So the men of breadth and the men of detail all
over Europe are contending about the comparative truth-
fulness of different methods or schools of painting.
In general the great men neglect or throw aside a
larger portion of details than others, but give utterance
to greater truths ; while the feeble painters value them-
selves on the number of particulars to which they faith-
fully adhere. But we must remember that our own
feelings and choice is not the absolute standard. If the
painter generalizes bodily ; if he makes figures that are
dabs merely, and blots in his foreground masses, we
may say that we do not like his treatment, but we must
first be sure that those effects in the picture which we do
like are not dependent for their charm on this very indis-
tinctness.
There is no other liberty taken in art, except this
choice among truths. Individual objects are generally
less valuable than that relation of objects by which the
whole landscape is made one image on the eye and the
mind. In landscape the sky is most important, because
most expressive. It is the eye of a picture. Then comes
the distance of the horizon, which is an opening to ter-
restrial, as the other to celestial spaces ; then the water
which reflects the sky, or curtains, veils, or drapes it ;
280 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
then the form of mountains and foliage. We here men-
tion loosely the general order of importance among facts
in nature. Either of these may be made the special
object of a picture may take the first place in it.
Suppose we want to paint a piece of still water a
lake. The tree-forms over it are obscured by shadow.
"We do not care to call the eye to their beauty of growth,
to the curves of their branches, or the forms of their
leaves and fruit. What we want is their shadow, con-
trasted with the gleam of the pool. We put them in
black, thick, and sombre ; and if there is a stray gleam
of reflection impairing the effect we admire, interfering
with the truth we are to report, and making it only a
half-truth, we dash out the ray we omit it because it is
unrelated to our purpose, as we omit in portraiture the
marks which accident has made upon a face.
If, then, we find in any work an error of detail, of
imitation, we will first consider whether it is intentional
neglect not feebleness, but design. Then we shall ask
what is gained by this neglect.
Many artistic critics show plainly enough the faults
of Claude his bad drawing of foliage. They show that
Claude not only omitted, but carelessly misrepresented
form. He not only subdued his details, but he drew im-
possible curves and angles amongst his tree trunks. The
truths he pretended to give were not given. Still, these
critics do not yet show the comparative value of those
facts rendered and those neglected by Claude, and they
leave us unable to form an estimate of that great master.
Sins of commission we cannot so readily pardon, and
yet omission is a kind of evil commission. Not doing
GENERALITIES OF LITEEATTJEE AND AET. 281
well is doing ill ; and it is never wise to say positively
how much inaccuracy we will overlook. That depends
on the strong or ineffectual treatment of those facts
really given. The great masters have gravest faults.
Little men have no courage or enthusiasm to commit
faults; they guard every word; but energetic persons
are content to make many mistakes for the sake of a final
good result ; and they trust that the truth attained will
cover many inaccuracies in expressing it.
Raphael's animals are all had, and so are those of Da
Vinci. The figures of most landscape painters are bad.
In all the pictures of Claude, Poussin, Salvator, and the
Flemish masters of landscape, there is a great deal of
carelessness about particular truths. One man cannot
draw the anatomy of a tree; another cannot rightly
clothe it with leaves; another cannot paint sunshine;
another introduces wooden or woollen clouds. But each
can do something ; and a just estimate of every work pro-
ceeds upon the success, and not on the failures, involved
in it. Merit of any kind is so rare in the world, that a
single broad statement, thoroughly well made, will impart
pleasure to every sensible observer, and secure the artist
an honourable reputation.
282 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
DAYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO.
TKOM THE NOTE-BOOK OF AIT OCTOGENAKIAHs".
THE Tweed and its numerous feeders present to the eye
of the angler and general tourist such a boundless field
for amusement and recreation, that we express no extra-
vagant opinion when we state, that there is not over the
entire range of the British Isles such an interesting col-
lection of waters within the same superficial extent of
country; while for beauty and sublimity of landscape,
and interesting historical associations, they stand pre-
eminently superior to any other rural district of the
kingdom.
The mere angling capabilities of these streams are
beyond conception and value to the followers of the gentle
craft. But they are noticeable in another point of view.
"Who have been the visitors to these waters, with rod in
hand, within the last century ? We can answer generally,
some of the most distinguished men of the age, both
foreign and domestic. Many scores of celebrities, con-
spicuous in their day for the extent of their learning,
eloquence, or social or political position, have, from time
to time, formed parties with well-known anglers, and
have sauntered along the banks of the Tweed and its
feeders, in all the simplicity of intellectual freedom and
deshabille, and have played the child with a buoyant
DAYS ON" THE TWEED SIXTY YEAKS AGO. 283
heart and an unfettered playfulness. Here have wandered
the erudite philosopher, the popular poet, the diligent
artist, the influential statesman, the man of wit and
sentiment, and the grave and dignified minister of the
Church. And, were we in a position to embody all the
intellectual treasures which have from time to time been
carelessly strewed along the banks of these several waters,
in the casual and fortuitous intercourse of the day, we
should not despair of presenting to the world something
worthy of its commendation, and calculated to make it
both wiser and better. But, alas ! we can present no
such embodiment of human thought. We have, how-
ever, in our own person, preserved a few fragments of
this, one of which we shall forthwith lay before the
reader.
Angling threescore years ago was not so commonly
indulged in on the Tweed as in modern times. Then
there were only, perhaps, half-a-dozen, large parties of
gentlemen visiting the river during a season ; while the
number of what may be termed the middle or trading
class of society, seeking piscatory recreation, was com-
paratively small. Both classes have increased consider-
ably within the last thirty years ; partly from the in-
creased facilities for travelling, and partly from a more
general and keener relish imparted to this mode of sport-
ing. For many years during the early sections of my
rod-fishing experience, parties who did visit the Tweed
made an important affair of the journey ; they came to
remain a week or two, and often longer, on its banks, and
were amply provided with all the materials or elements
of a piscatory campaign. This rendered the intercourse
284 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
among the individual members of such groups easy and
familiar, and imparted to the entire company much that
was both pleasant and improving, independent of the
mere excitement consequent upon the sport of angling
itself.
And here, perhaps, the indulgent reader will permit
a reflection or two personal to ourselves, and suggested
by our " seared and yellow leaf." For threescore years
and ten, the Tweed and its tributaries have been a sort
of home to us, in our recreations and amusements. "We
have explored their localities in every direction over and
over again. The outlines of the horizon of this fishing
range its peaks and headlands, its mountains and gorges,
its streams and valleys have become familiar to us. It
is with something like sadness that we have now the near
approach of leaving them for ever. Nature makes so
many overtures to those who love her, and stamps so
many remembrances of herself upon their affections, and
draws forth to her bosom so much of our very self, that
at length the fields, and the trees, and the hills, and the
various waters, become a journal of our life. In visiting
some of these enchanting waters with our rod, for, per-
haps, the last time, we could not but remark what a hold
they had got upon us. This craggy knoll here, and that
bluff headland yonder, we claimed as our own. Hundreds
of times we have greeted them, and been greeted ; we
have bounded over them ; in imagination we have built
near these spots, and welcomed our friends to our air-
cottage ; we have sat at sunset, and looked forth north
and south, east and west, and harvested every year from
each direction great stores of beauty and joy. But
DAYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEARS AGO. 285
there is still hope in the winter of life. What the heart
has once owned and loved, it. shall never lose. This is a
consolatory reflection a glorious vision this hope and
everlasting surety of the future. How shallow were life
without it, and how deep beyond all fathoming with it !
The threads that are broken in the loom here, will be
taken up there. The veins of gold that penetrate this
mighty mountain of time and earth, shall have forsaken
the rock and dirt, and shine in sevenfold purity. And
all those wrongly estranged and separated ; and all who,
with great hearts, seeking great good for men, do yet
fall out and contend ; and all who bear about hearts of
earnest purpose, longing to love and to do, but hindered
and baulked, and made to carry hidden fire in their hearts-
that warms no one, and only burns the censer ; and all
who are separated that should have walked together;
and all that inwardly and outwardly live in a dream all
their days, longing for the dawn and the waking; to all
such, how blessed and cheering is the dawn of another
and brighter state of existence !
Our " reminiscences" commence in 1790. This was
a most exciting epoch throughout England, as well as on
the Continent, It was in this year I formed one of a
party consisting of the late Earl Grey (then Charles
Grey), Brinsley Sheridan, Messrs. Whitbread, Ponsonby,
and several others ; and among the number were a M.
Didot and the Abbe Hauy, French refugees, who de-
lighted us all with their lively and graphic description of
some of the scenes of the French Revolution, then
moving forward in its wild and sanguinary career. We
all met, with our fishing tackle, at Wark Castle, which is
286 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
the property of the Grey family. The angling is excel-
lent, both above and below this time-worn and dilapidated
old building. The streams are rippling and capacious,
and they lead into stretches of deep and still water of
considerable length, and commonly well stocked with
salmon and salmon-trout. It was in the month of July,
and the weather, though warm, was somewhat cloudy ?
which was favourable to our sport. Messrs. Grey and
Sheridan soon got their rods and flies ready, and moved
down the stream ; while I went with a section of the
company upwards, and divided them at suitable distances
along the banks of the river. We fished for several
hours, and had good sport. The French gentlemen,
however, proved but lame hands at the craft ; and, being
conscious of their want of skill, they continually endea-
voured, by one-sided manoeuvres, to draw the company
into desultory conversations, and induce them to relax
their angling labours for a season. Didot spoke English
well, though with a foreign accent and idiom, and ap-
peared to be about sixty years of age. The philosophical
abbe spoke the language very imperfectly, but was tole-
rably acquainted with English literature. Didot was
possessed of considerable property in France : it had just
been confiscated, but he had succeeded in saving a moiety
of it from the general wreck, and had lodged it in the
hands of Mr. Coutts,the banker. He stated that he was the
nephew of Diderot, the concoctor and responsible editor
of the famous " Encyclopaedia," then considered one of
the most powerful and mischievous works that the world
had ever seen. Both the French Court and the doctors
of the Sorbonne viewed this publication, for many years
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEAES AGO. 287
after its first appearance in 1745, with great suspicion,
and, indeed, openly remonstrated against several of the
articles which treated of metaphysical and theological
topics. Louis XVI. was, however, rather partial to
Diderot ; and his nephew Didot told us, when we were
all sitting enjoying our lunch on the river's bank, that
one day the monarch sent for his uncle, about ten years pre-
vious to the first outbreak of the popular fury, and said to
him, " M. Diderot, you are a man of talent of European
reputation as a philosopher. "What you write and pub-
lish has a great influence on the minds of the thinking
men in every part of the world. I have looked with
some care and considerable anxiety into many of the
volumes of your 'Encyclopaedia,' and found much to
admire, as well as to reprove. Tour Materialism is dan-
gerous to society at large: it is unguarded and unqualified ;
and I have often thought you should take some imme-
diate steps towards correcting and rewriting the work,
carefully omitting those portions of it to which I allude,
and with which you must yourself be well acquainted. I
am not influenced by what I am now saying and recom-
mending, by the clamour which has been raised by the
Church at the publication of your novel, " Les Bijoux
Indiscrets ;' this is necessarily of an ephemeral character,
and whatever faults it may have on the score of delicacy,
they can exercise but a transient influence. But it is
otherwise with your grave and philosophical discourses,
which go year by year into the hands of the young and
inexperienced at all our collegiate institutions through-
out the kingdom. I assure you I should feel delighted,
and consider it a compliment paid to myself personally,
288 OLD PACES IN KEW MASKS.
if you would take what I have suggested into your
serious consideration, with a view of trying to remedy
the evil complained of." Diderot is said to have given a
sort of tacit promise that the materialistic articles in the
work should be revised ; but this was never effected, as
his death followed soon after this interview with his
Majesty.
Both Mr. Whitbread and Mr. Ponsonby seemed
much interested in this anecdote ; for they entertained a
high opinion of the literary merits of the " Encyclopaedia,"
but were not insensible to its great defects in point of
religious orthodoxy. M. Didot gave us likewise several
interesting recitals of what he himself witnessed during
the first ebullitions of the outbreak in Paris, the pre-
vious year ; but, being a zealous royalist, his reflections
on them were not so freely responded to by some of our
party, who entertained very hopeful things from this
great and singular political convulsion.
The number of trout the party had taken was highly
satisfactory, and displayed their angling skill in a favour-
able light. There were only two salmon in the lot, but
they were of good size, and were likewise clean-run fish.
This latter characteristic greatly enhanced their value.
We bent our steps back again towards "Wark Castle, but
Lord Howick and Mr. Sheridan had not made their ap-
pearance when we arrived. Mr. Whitbread and I went
down the stream to look after them. About a mile
below the old castle we espied them. The noble lord
was in the river to his middle, with a salmon on his line,
and seemed in a state of agreeable and pleasurable ex-
citement at the adventure. Sheridan was sitting on the
DAYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO. 289
bank enjoying the fun, and cutting jokes at his lord-
ship's position and exploits. Among other things, he
said, "Now, 1117 lord, you are at present an actual
member of the opposition ; you have often been accused
of fishing for place, you are likely to hook a prize at
last." His lordship enjoyed the laugh. After another
half-hour's run of the fish, a man put off from the oppo-
site side of the river, and with a lister succeeded in killing
the fish, which weighed twenty-two pounds and a-half.
The entire party, w r hen gathered together, were after-
wards regaled with substantial fare, at a large farmhouse
in the neighbourhood ; and, after the repast, we spent
the evening, notwithstanding our fatigues, very plea-
santly indeed. Many were the lively dialogues we
entered into, and many witty jokes were bandied about
from one to another. It was determined to move next
day to another section of the Tweed, near to Melrose
Abbey, in order to diversify our amusement, and to
captivate the eye with new landscape beauties. Our
English friends were very anxious that their "French
cousins, M. Didot and the Abbe Hauy, should witness
some of our best spots on the Scottish Border.
We all started very early the next morning. Morn-
ing ! how lovely to the senses ! It has often been de-
scribed by those who could do justice to the effect pro-
duced by the freshness of the air, the sweet smell of the
meadows, the twittering of birds, and the thousand
beauties presented to the eye and to the ear. How
silvery green the pollards are, wet with the dew, which
is just dispersing from the low grounds, as the sun
every moment increases in height and warmth. Then
290 OLD PACES IN" NEW MASKS.
the river, now rushing rapidly over the shallows, clear as
crystal, showing distinctly the shoals of trout as they
wave about in a compact body, moving, as it were, by one
impulse, over the bright gravelly bottom ; now flowing
more leisurely, as the current deepens on either side of a
small ait or island, covered with brushwood, and ap-
proached by a narrow plank, for the convenience of the
angler or village swain. There the waters eddy in some
mimic inlet, over a deep hole, the resort of the large
trout, or perhaps the salmon. See ! the mist has entirely
dispersed, the water no longer appears as if boiling, when
it sent tip volumes of steam from its surface. As the
morning advances, innumerable dragon-flies, with their
beautiful blue bodies, are constantly skimming the sur-
face of the stream, and the kingfisher darts across and
across it, with the swiftness of an arrow.
" Come," said Mr. Grey (now Lord Howick), "if we
are really going to-day, it is high time we were off. We
shall have full six or seven miles to walk, and we shall
find it a stiff pull among these hills. Have you got all
your rig ? Well, good morning all ; and here we are
under weigh." So saying, he took his own rod, put his
creel over his shoulder, full of the liveliness and enthu-
siasm of a true angler. "We all followed.
The sky is full of slowly-opening, rolling, evasive,
fleecy clouds, that never do what you think they are
going to do, and always develop their magical forms in
unexpected shapes and figures. So you get and lose the
sunshine by turns, and go along a winding and chequered
road among the mountains. You make your way among
swampy meadows, full of rank grass, clumps of alders,
DATS OTX THE TWEED SIXTY YEARS AGO. 291
here and there little arboral villages of hemlock, and a
fringe of "bushes and trees winds circuit ously through the
entire ramble, having in charge the splendid and limpid
river, whose fair face the sun is not in some spots to gaze
too broadly upon, but only in golden glances, softened
and tempered to mildness by the leafy bath of lucid green
through which it passes.
After a sauntering kind of ramble, we pitched our
tent at a section of the Tweed which flows round the
mouldering remains of Melrose Abbey. At the date we
are now referring to, this celebrated ruin presented a
somewhat different aspect from what it assumes at the
present hour. It was then lying in all the dirty and
neglected squalor that a couple of centuries had accu-
mulated, and the grounds in its immediate vicinity were
neither so well cultivated nor so tidily trimmed as they
have been of late years. But the situation, in all its
leading features, was the same, and a lovely and interest-
ing one it appeared to all our party. It was often a
subject of special remark, how invariably the monkish
orders hit upon the choicest spots in an extended range
of country to fix their dwellings. This is very noticeable
both in Britain and on the Continent. They had a keen
eye for the picturesque and beautiful in nature ; and no
external appliances were lost sight of to make their per-
sonal lives happy and cosy. The river shows itself here
to the greatest advantage ; sweeping around the locality
in majestic and expansive streams, and long stretches of
still water. On every side the eye rests upon the land-
scape with rapturous delight.
"We all got ready for immediate action ; rods fixed,
292 OLD FACES IN XEW MASKS.
fly-books out, lines adjusted, flies tied on ; all were eager
for sport. The water and weather seemed promising.
We divided our body into several sections of twos and
threes, covering about a mile and a-half of the banks of
the river. I had Wnitbread and Ponsonby for my com-
panions. They were neither of them much skilled in
fly-fishing; and this I soon found to my cost. They
both frankly acknowledged their want of experience.
Whitbread remarked, " I used to be a famous fisher when
a boy many's the stickleback I have caught ;" and Pon-
sonby was equally eloquent on his youthful exploits in
Ireland, among the trout streams near the family estate.
And now, if I have the good fortune to engage the atten-
tion of a brother of the angle one whose heart warms
at the recollection of the rod and stream I would wish
to speak a word of confidence in his ear. Truth and
candour compel me to say that there are disappointments
and annoyances attendant on the sport of angling, as well
as on every other ; which, though not unfrequently vexa-
tious at the time, often afford subjects for mirth to the
honest fishermen by whom they have been experienced.
He may get a ducking, either from the weather, or from
an unexpected plunge into the stream, but the huntsman
and fowler are liable to the same accidents ; he may bring
home an empty creel, but other sportsmen are not always
successful ; the birds may be wild, or the hounds may
lose scent. But, of the many trials of an enthusiastic
angler, none make a larger demand on his patience,
than being coupled with one or more friends who lack
the requisite degree of angling art and knowledge to do
everything for themselves. We would say to the ear we
DAYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAKS AGO. 293
are now supposed to address, Brother, if you have not
already bought experience, let me beseech you to shun
the bait sometimes thrown out by the enemy, of seeming
to become proselytes to your urgent arguments in defence
and recommendation of your favourite amusement, and
offering to accompany you for a day's fishing, if you
will take the trouble to give them some little instruction
en the subject. This has often been the trap I have
fallen into ; and I therefore speak feelingly on the
matter.
I found I had to put all the flies and lines of both my
friends into order, for they had no idea of doing this in
an artistic style for themselves. This matter accom-
plished, I had next to direct them to the best portions of
the streams, accompanying my instructions with some
remarks on the necessity which every true angler is
under, of learning to cultivate a fisher's eye ; that is, to
have such a keen insight into the localities where fish of
various sizes and kinds are in the habit of frequenting,
that you shall not throw your line into barren and un-
profitable waters. To these instructions, imparted with
all ardour and simplicity of language, my pupils appeared
to pay great attention; and I fondly anticipated they
would be large profiters by them. Nothing gives a true
angler so much delight as the thought of making a
decided convert. No votary of the Church of Borne,
who labours night and day to endeavour to gain a pro-
selyte, that his own soul may be saved, feels the thrill of
devoted enthusiasm more sensibly, or sets a higher value
on the achievements of conversion.
<! We shall abide," said Mr. Whit-bread, "by your in-
294 OLD FACES Itf NEW MASKS.
structions ; and we have no doubt we shall be successful
this delightful morning. I should like exceedingly to
catch a salmon."
"I dare say you would," rejoined Mr. Ponsonby,
" but my ambition does not soar so high ; I shall be con-
tent with a few good-sized trout."
"We each repaired to separate parts of the river. I
had just got my own tackle adjusted, when I was loudly
called for by Mr. Whitbread, who had whipped off his
flies, and could not replace them. I had to trip a few
hundred paces to put him again to rights, and to give
him a few short lessons on the subject of cr adding off
flies. A^ell, I had not thrown my own line in a score of
times till I saw Mr. Ponsonby waving his hat, and
beckoning me to come to his assistance. I threw down
my rod, and ran off immediately when I found he had
allowed his line to float too near some trees, and it was
firmly hooked on one of the branches which dipped into
the surface of the water, and which was here of consider-
able deepness. Nothing could be done save winding up
the line, and making as small a sacrifice as possible, in
breaking it off from the branch. This was done with the
loss of the cast-line and flies. New ones were put on,
and, after half-an-hour's interruption, I once more had
my own rod in hand again.
I had not finished half-an-hour till I saw Mr. Pon-
sonby coming towards me with rather a rueful counte-
nance. He said he had lost all his flies, and a good
portion of his line, by getting entangled with an old
stump of a tree. He begged I would put his tackle all
right again, which I did.
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEAES AQO. 295
"I am, you see, very helpless," said he; "I fear I
shall never make a good angler."
I endeavoured to console him under these casual mis-
haps. Being fully refitted once more, he took his de-
parture ; and I saw him about an hour after, when he had
succeeded in capturing four or five very nice-sized trout ;
an exploit which seemed to give him the most exquisite
pleasure, and which fully repaid him for his past mis-
fortunes.
"Now," said he, "I shall consider myself a real fly-
fisher from this day henceforth. I shall take out a pis-
catory diploma of no mean order."
Ponsonhy was a man of a very fine and reflective
mind, and he was at this period of his life fond of botany
and flowers of all kinds. Just after I had to-day con-
gratulated him on his success in fishing, he sat down by
a hedge-side, and asked me if I were partial to botanical
studies. I answered in the negative.
"Ah !" said he, "you lose a great source of agree-
able pleasure. Plants afford to man a rich seam of re-
flection. Look at these blue-bells and flowers there.
How exquisitely rich and beautiful they are ; but in two
or three months, the scene will be entirely changed.
The colds and frosts will come, and with their sharp
sickles will cut all before them. Nature makes a great
effort a sort of triumph before these destroyers set
earnestly to work. She loves to die in gay colours and
emblazoned dresses. The vegetable cohorts march out of
the season in glowing and flaming habiliments, as if to
leave the earth more in triumph than in sadness. It is
not, however, nature that is ever sad, but only we our-
296 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
selves, who dare not look back on the past, and that have
not her prophecies of the future in our bosoms. Men
will sit down beneath the shower of golden leaves that
every puff of wind in autumn casts down in field and
forest, and they will remember the days of a bygone
summer, and the vigour and beauty of young leaves ;
they will mark the boughs growing bare, and the increas-
ing spots among the thickest trees, through which the
heavens every day do more and more appear, as their
leaves grow fewer, and now spring again to repair the
waste, and they thus sigh that summer passeth, and
winter cometh. How many suggestions and illustrations
of the life of man do we not find in such contemplations !
But mark further. There is as much life in autumn and
in winter, as there is deatli, and as much creation and
growth as there is of decay and of passing away. Every
flower has left its house full of seeds. No leaf drops
until a bud is bom. Already another year is hidden
among the grass, or along the boughs; another sum-
mer is secured among the declining and fading flowers.
Along these hedgerows the green heart-shaped leaves of
the violet tell us that it is all well at the root, and if we
could turn the soil, we would find all those spring beauties
that died to be only sleeping. How cheering is all this.
Every tree, and every root and flower, are annual prophets
sent to affirm the future and cheer the way. Thus, as
birds, to teach their little ones to fly, do fly first them-
selves, and show the way ; and as guides that would bring
the timid to venture into the dark-faced ford, do first go
back and ford through it ; so the year and all its mighty
multitudes of growths walk in and out before the face of
DATS OST THE TWEED SIXTY TEARS AGO. 297
man, to encourage his faith in life by death of decaying
for the sake of better growth. Every seed and every bud
whispers to us to secure, while the leaf is still green, that
germ which shall live when frosts have destroyed both
leaf and flower. Now," continued he, rising from his
seat, "you can lecture me on fish and fishing if you
like."
I thanked him for his instructive lecture, but re-
marked, that I would not now attempt to return the
compliment, as we were all called to dwell upon more
material and necessary topics to discuss the merits of
a picnic, or angling dinner, which was prepared on the
side of the grassy hill, close to the Abbey. The whole
party met here about five o'clock in the afternoon, and
enjoyed a most suitable and refreshing repast, washed
down by some good port and sherry. We rehearsed our
various angling successes and disappointments, as good
and zealous sportsmen are wont to do. "We had all got
something to show ; some more and some less of trout,
added to which, we had three salmon, whose united
weight was about fifty pounds. This we all considered
no small success for the time we had sojourned on the
river. Lord Ho wick had taken two of these, and the
other was hooked by M. Didot, but killed by another
angler, a gentleman from London, who formed one of the
party. Our success was somewhat out of the common
run ; for, while we were fishing with fly, and the weather
was fine and bright, the river became suddenly flooded
and white-coloured. Its rise was not to any great ex-
tent, but its hue struck us all with surprise. It con-
tinued in this state for nearly three hours. We had
298 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
seen no rain nor heavy clouds in the neighbourhood, but
we conjectured there had been some heavy thunder-
storm, either near the source of the main river, or some
of its chief tributaries, several miles to the west. Such
an event as this is rather uncommon in the Tweed, so far
down the stream as Melrose. During the time the river
ran thick and puddly, most of the party took to worm
fishing, and were tolerably successful. Bait, however,
was difficult to procure. Worms were sought for in the
pasture-grounds in the neighbourhood ; and it was rather
amusing and grotesque to see members of the House of
Commons grubbing as zealously for bait as they would
have done for a good fat place at the Treasury.
After the dinner on the grass was over, which lasted
nearly a couple of hours, we all distributed ourselves to
our separate resting-places for the night, with the inten-
tion of proceeding, the next day, as far as Innerleithen.
Before we left the grounds Sheridan was a little mellow,
but not tipsy; and he and "Whitbread had a long dis-
putation upon some points connected with the trial of
the Marquis of Hastings. How it ended, I do not re-
member. Our French friends did not seem to under-
stand the points in dispute.
One of the party having caught a trout with some-
thing like a mark hanging at one of its fore-fins, the
company was led into a discussion on the subjects of
identity, and sensibility generally, as connected with
animal life. I well remember Mr. Ponsonby's remarks
on the matter. He said, " What a most wonderful thing
it was, that amidst the mutations our body undergoes,
our personal identity, our physical sameness and indi-
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEARS AGO. 299
viduality, is still distinctly preserved ! Our substance,
instead of being stationary, is almost as fugitive as if it
were an inanimate mist. There is scarcely a morsel of
one's structure we can call our own ; nor a solitary atom
we can regard as a fixture in one's frame. We stand, as
it were, on a stream of particles which settle for a few
hours upon a skeleton, itself almost as fleeting as the
flesh it wears, and then sweep past us to pursue their
restless, but well regulated career.
" But let us look at man from a higher platform.
The living principle performs another class of duties,
tliat of communicating "between mind and matter between
the spirit and tlie external world. The soul being an im-
material thing, it is, of course, inconceivable to us how it
can be brought into practical intercourse with corporeal
substances. Could we get the soul to step out of its dwell-
ing for a few moments, it would probably have no more
conception of physical nature, than it could be made
conscious of a "blow or a wound. Another power is re-
quired to bring the soul and body together, that is,
sensibility. But it is not enough that the body
should be endowed with a general susceptibility.
Our frames must all be open commons, as it were, an
expanse along which a given sensation might travel on
any occasion whatever. An impulse or volition, for
example, which was intended for the arm, might then,
probably, travel to the foot ; the mind wishing to shake
hands with a friend, might perhaps greet him by mistake
with a cordial kick. But suppose, in either of these
cases, the sensation were to make a mistake, the greatest
possible confusion would be the inevitable consequence.
300 OLD PACES 1^ NEW MASKS.
" But man is not merely a creature of sensation. He
must be able to act upon material tilings, as well as be
influenced by them. For this purpose he must have a
splendid set of limbs for the purpose. ~No one can doubt
that the hands were given to grasp external things ; the
feet to traverse ; the teeth constructed to bite ; and the
stomach to digest. These are all moved by muscles or
straps of flesh which contract at the bidding of the will.
But how the mind, which is spiritual, can produce such
an afflux of power, which is physical, is to us utterly
incomprehensible.' '
We started at seven o'clock the next morning, and
the weather appeared fine. There were a few clouds,
but not of a watery complexion. We were all mounted
this morning on horseback, and we formed a powerful
cavalcade. "When one is on horseback, one can do more
in a shorter time than on foot. You abbreviate the time
and labour of passing over the intermediate space between
you and the point of interest. Then there is good com-
pany in a spirited horse, a thousand times more than in
a flat man. You sit on your saddle at ease, giving the
horse his own way, the bridle loose, Avhile you scan on
either side the various features of the way. Your nag
becomes used to you, and you to him, till a sympathetic
connection is established, and he always seems to do just
what you wanted him to do. ISTow a leisurely, swinging
walk ; now a smart trot ; then a spirited bit of a canter,
which imperceptibly dies away into an amble, pace, and
walk. When you rise a hill to overlook a bold or ex-
tensive prospect, can anybody persuade you that your
horse does not enjoy the sight too ? His ears go for-
DAYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAKS AGO. 301
ward ; his eye lights up with a large and bright look ;
and he gazes for a, moment with equine enthusiasm, till
aome succulent bougli or grassy tuft converts his taste
into a physical form. A good horse is a perfect gentle-
man. He meets you in the morning with unmistakeable
pleasure. If you are near the grain-bin, he will give you
the most cordial invitation, if not to breakfast with him,
at least to wait upon him in that interesting ceremony.
There is no hoggish taste in his meals. His drinking is
particularly nice : he always loves running water, in the
clearest brook, and at the most sparkling spot in it. He
arches down his neck to the surface ; his mane falls
gracefully over his head ; he drinks with hearty earnest-
ness ; and the throbbing swallows pulsate so audibly and
musically, that you feel a sympathetic thirst. Now he
lifts his head, and looks first up the road, to see who is
coming ; and then down the road, at those work-horses
turned loose, aifecting gaiety, with their old, stiff legs,
and hard and hooped bellies ; and then, with a long
breath, he takes the after-drink. Once more lifting his
head, but now only a few inches above the surface, the
drops trickle from his lips back to the brook. Finally,
he cleanses his mouth, and chews his bit, and plays with
the surface of the water with his lip, and begins to paw
the stream. Guiding him out, you perchance, like most
angling tourists, are thirsty, and propose to yourself to
have a real boy's drinlc. Selecting a favourable place, on
a dry bank, where the stones give you a suitable rest,
you lie flat down at full length, and begin. Tour luck
will depend upon your judgment of places and skill of
performance. Should you be too dignified to lie down,
302 OLD FACES 12* KEW MASKS.
you will probably compromise matters, and kneel awk-
wardly, protruding your head to the edge, where a little
pool breaks over its rim ; and then you will probably
send the first drops down the wrong way. Musical
as is crystal water softly flowing over silver gravel
between fringed banks, its passage down the breathing
tubes is anything but musical or graceful ; and you will
have an episode with your handkerchief behind the
bushes.
The party or cavalcade arrived at Innerleithen, a
place which was often, in former days, honoured by the
residence of Scottish kings. It is a beautiful and se-
questered spot, lying close at the bottom of high hills,
with the river at the south side of it, winding round the
village in a majestic and lovely manner. The waters
here are considered some of the very best in the river
for agreeable fly-fishing, both for salmon and trout.
The streams are rippling and commandable with the rod,
while there are fine stretches of still water, where large
fish can procure shelter. Innerleithen did not, at the
time we are now alluding to, present so many artificial
beauties of scenery as it does at present. Within the
last half-century there have been fine bluffs of hills
planted with wood, and the gentlemen's residences in
tke neighbourhood have been laid out with great taste
and tidiness. Many houses have likewise been built
within this period, which give the place, at the present
hour, a more wealthy and refined aspect than it had in
the days of yore.
We soon commenced operations on the river. It
seemed to be in capital order and the weather was
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEARS AGO. 303
promising, being one of those dull, cloudy days, with a
gentle wind, which are generally favourable to the fly-
fisher's operations. Lord Howick and Mr. Whitbread
put on large salmon-flies ; and the latter gentleman had
not fished a piece of deep water long, till he hooked a
salmon, which leaped often to a great height out of the
water, and then, after about half-an-hour's run, took
what is called the sulks, and would not stir an inch.
We threw one or two small stones near his lodging-place,
and at length he moved out again, and showed play.
After another run of about a hundred yards or two, the
fish gave evident signs of fatigue, and the angler soon
brought him in safety to the bank. He was about ten
pounds, and appeared to be a clean-run fish. Mr. "Whit-
bread was delighted beyond measure, as it was the first
real salmon he had ever caught in his life.
Most of the other members of the party were more
or less successful. Sheridan fished little : he carried a
pocket Shakespere with him, and I often observed him
reading it, and laying down his rod. We all stopped at
this locality for three days, and had fair sport during the
whole of the time. Indeed, some had more fish than
they knew what to do with. A good many were given
away to some of the people in the village. The party at
length set off southwards, to Howick Hall in Northum-
berland, where they purposed remaining for a few day?,
and then to try the rod in the higher streams of the
North Tyne, a very favourite stream in that part of the
north of England.
We thus bade farewell to the Tweed on this occasion.
The enjoyment we had received from these few days'
304) OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
sojourn on its banks cannot be measured by words. We
were not ashamed to acknowledge, that our ride through
some of the localities on its banks was attended with an
overflowing of gratitude, as intelligent and distinct as
ever we experienced towards a living person. Why not ?
Are not the heavens and the earth susceptible, in an un-
limited degree, of conferring benefactions on man ? Are
not all the enchantments of morning and evening all
the processes of the seasons almoners of the Almighty's
bounty ? He walks through the earth with ten thousand
gifts, which he finds no one willing to receive. Men live
in poverty, in sadness, and dissatisfaction, yearning and
wishing for joy, while above them and about them, upon
the grandest scale, and with variations beyond record,
are stores of pleasure beyond all exhaustion, and in-
capable of palling upon the taste. "When our heart has
dwelt for a long time in these royalties, and has been
made rich with a wealth that brings no care, nor burden,
nor corruption, and that wastes only to burst forth with
new treasures and sweeter surprises, we cannot forbear
thankfulness and gratitude fill the eye, rather than
move the tongue. By a natural process, the mind gives
sentient life to the messengers of nature, and regards
them as the cheerful and conscious stewards of the
divine goodness. ]S"or can we forego a sense of sorrow
that that which was meant for so great a blessing to all
men should be wasted upon the greatest number of men,
either because they lack education towards such things,
or lack a sensibility that develops without education.
"We have been led into this train of reflection by a
vivid recollection, even at the distance of more than three-
DATS OS THE TWEED SIXTY TEARS AGO. 305
score years, of the magnificent sky we saw on the evening
we left the Tweed. Our whole party were rivetted with
amazement at the exhibition. And how often, when we
have been wandering among the mountain- streams of
Scotland and other countries, have we been rendered
almost speechless by the grand displays in the firma-
ment, and with that rush of mingled feelings of delight
and awe which such spectacles are fitted to excite in a
thinking mind. This should be one of the constant
sources out of which the intelligent rod-fisher should
derive a great portion of his pleasurable excitement.
Consider for a moment, if there were an artist amongst
us who could stand in Exeter Hall, in the presence of a
living assemblage, and work with such marvellous celerity
and genius, that in half-an-hour there should glow from
his canvas a gorgeous sunset, such as flushed in a day of
July at the time we are now speaking of; and then,
when the spectators had gazed their fill, should rub it
hastily out, and overlay it in a twenty minutes' work
with another picture, such as nature paints rapidly after
sunset its silvery white, its faint apple-green, its pink,
its yellow, its orange hues, imperceptibly mingling into
grays, and the black blue of the upper arch of the
heavens, to be rubbed out again, and succeeded by
pictures of clouds all or any of these extraordinary
combinations of grandeur, in form and in colour, that
make one tremble to stand and look up ; these, again,
to be followed by vivid portraitures of more calm atmos-
pheric conditions of the heavens ; and so on endlessly :
such a man would be followed by eager crowds, his works
lauded, and he called a god. He would be a god. Such
x
306 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
is Omnipotence. He fills the heavens with pictures,
strikes through them with effacement, that He may pour
on the endless races of His intelligent creatures the ever-
varying ideas of beauty and majesty.
TE1P THE SECOND.
IT was on a bright day in June that I received a friendly
note from the Earl of Tankerville, of Chillingham Castle,
in Northumberland, saying he would be glad to have my
company with a few friends to the higher localities of
the Tweed. It was settled we should all assemble, as we
best could, at the inn and posting-house, at Tweedshaws,
as some of his party were coming from the neighbour-
hood of Dumfries, and this would prove an easy and con-
venient spot for meeting. It was arranged, however, that
his lordship, with his eldest son, Dr. William Paley,
from Durham, and the three noted anglers, Charles,
Ualph, and William Brandling, of Grosforth House, near
Newcastle-on-Tyne, should call upon me en route, and
we should all make the best of our way to the place of
rendezvous, joining his lordship at Tetholm, a place more
famous then than now for its gipsies. We rode through
the hills by by-paths little frequented. Dr. Paley, who
had never been in this section of the Scottish Border, was
deeply enamoured with the mountainous tracks through
which we threaded our course, under the guidance of the
earl, who possessed an accurate knowledge of every nook
and corner of the hilly district. The peculiar nature of
the scenery, the barren grandeur of the rugged peaks
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEAES AGO. 307
towering on high, and the picturesque valleys below,
excited the admiration of the whole party. We were
struck with the strange and capricious admixture of
desert and comparative fertility we saw on every side ;
till, at length, the features of the country assumed a
ruder aspect, and nothing but precipices and deep ravines
met the eye. Hardly a living soul crossed our path.
Now and then the shrill voice of some young shepherd
roused attention, but even these sounds were gradually
lost as we proceeded further ; till, at last, nought but the
rare cry of some mountain bird, and the sound of our
own horses' feet, broke in upon the gloomy but impressive
silence.
After several hours of hard riding we arrived at the
little inn at Tweedshaws, and found it almost choke full
of tourists like ourselves ; but we failed to recognize
among the company any of our friends from the west.
In the course, however, of a few hours we had the
pleasure of seeing and shaking them cordially by the
hand. The party consisted of a Dr. Eeid, from Carlisle,
and two Italian noblemen, who had sought refuge in this
country from the political troubles and devastations of
their own, occasioned by the revolutionary army of
Prance. The inn we then occupied stood at that time
on the opposite side of the ravine from the one which
now goes by the name of Tweedshaws. It was a very
small place, with a low and thatched roof, and only con-
tained two principal apartments, in addition to two or
three nooks or boxes in the attic to serve for bed-rooms.
After regaling ourselves with some fine bacon-collops
and eggs, and good ale (for the main stock of our pro-
308 OLD FACES IN 3STEW MASKS.
vender had been sent by a servant in a dog-cart to the
Crook Inn, about ten miles further down the Tweed), we
commenced looking about our fishing gear, but previously
resolved, ere we began angling operations, to take a
short saunter to the west of the inn, to view what is
called the " Devil's Beef-tub." This is a steep mountain,
about fifteen hundred feet high, which forms at its base
a large well-rounded circular space like a cauldron or tub :
hence its name. It is unquestionably a great natural
curiosity, and we believe it is now much frequented by
tourists who journey through this part of Scotland.
On our return to the thatched inn, we resolved to
have a little angling. The river Tweed is here formed
by three small burns or feeders, taking different directions
through open mountain gorges or ravines. About two
miles below Tweedshaws Inn they unite, and then con-
stitute the Tweed proper. The stream does not average
more than from three to four yards in width for a couple
of miles below the junction of these tributaries, but we
found it full of fine, good-sized trout, and we soon caught
several dozens. Dr. Paley we recognized as a first-rate
fly-fisher, but at the close of our labours he had fewer
fish than any of the party, with the exception of the
Italian noblemen ; not, however, from any lack of skill,
but from want of continued industry in the pursuit of
his craft. He was fond of disputing and talking, when-
ever anything turned up that was suggestive to his active
and inquiring mind. On one occasion I looked behind
and saw the doctor sitting on a large stone by the river-
side, his rod laid on the grass, and lecturing with great
earnestness to the Earl of Tankerville and the two Italian
DAYS OX THE TWEED SIXTY YEARS AGO. 309
noblemen. The discussion arose from the latter making
some remarks on English scenery and English landscape
painters. I only heard the middle of the debate, but I
well remember Paley's remarks. They were verbatim as
follows : " It may be observed, by an ordinary and un-
artistic mind, that the colouring of our landscapes and
other pieces is, as a general rule, much lighter and
brighter than that of your Italian masters of the old
school. I think it may be thus explained: in your
country, where these great artists arose, studied, and
laboured, the complexion is darker than in our northern
countries ; and in order to copy nature faithfully, and to
throw their figures boldly from the canvas, they were
obliged to darken their backgrounds, that their pictures
might be in good keeping ; hence arose that deep colour-
ing which is characteristic of their compositions. Tour
far-famed Italian sky also exhibits a darker blue than our
own ; and in order to reduce all the colours to a proper
tone, greens of a deep shade were very commonly em-
ployed. Even in Claude's light sunny scenes, this depth
of tone is observable. The love of chiaro-scuro is indeed
better developed in your Italian schools more especially
in the Venetian than in our own ; which is mainly
owing to the peculiar manner in which this principle was
practically marked out. I am not able to dive into
practical expositions ; nor can I, very clearly show that in
the Venetian style of painting a closer approach was
made to nature than in any other ; but it appears to me
that colour was here subordinate to light, as it is both
naturally and philosophically ; and unless this principle
be maintained, and pursued in a manner somewhat
310 OLD FACES Ltf NEW MASKS.
analogous to that of the Venetian school, excellence in
light and shade cannot be expected. The great thing
with artists is to copy nature in their tone of colour.
She is the supreme mistress of all artistic displays. If
our landscapes can be painted in conformity with her
plain suggestions, and according to those principles which
she has laid down and sanctioned, they will be equally as
correct and deserving of admiration as the most esteemed
of your best Italian productions. You may very natu-
rally be led to imagine that the dull and sombre character
of our atmosphere, particularly during the winter months,
would have impressed the same character on our land-
scapes ; but this is, allow me to say, a mistake : greedy of
sunshine, because we possess comparatively so little, we
seize those moments for representation when nature
appears in her gayest attire, and envelope our paintings
in that bright hue which is most delightful to our own
minds."
Our Italian friends, who spoke the English language
tolerably well, and were great connoisseurs of painting,
entered warmly into these remarks of the doctor ; but the
Earl of Tankerville cut short the discussion, by urging us
all to attend to our sport, for he perceived that the trout
were rising very freely. Indeed, so capital was our
success, that in about two hours we had more fish than
our creels could contain ; and so indifferent and fastidious
did we become at last, that we threw back into the stream
every trout that was not above half-a-pound in weight.
The chief thing that now concerned us was, how to get
ourselves all comfortably housed for the night. His
lordship's servant had been beating up all day among the
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEARS AGO. 311
farmhouses, cottages, and the Crook Inn (the last of
which was, at this time, out a very small house), for
lodgings, and had so far succeeded as to procure for each
a clean and comfortable bed ; though some of us were
separated by considerable distances of locality ; but this
was a trifling inconvenience. I got perched up into a
small attic-room, about a mile from the Crook ; and as
soon as I got a cup of tea, I took out my note-book, to
jot down the chief occurrences of the day. And I would
take the liberty of remarking, by the way, that, if any-
thing has to be written about, it should always be done
when the impressions are fresh on the mind. It is
generally useless to try and regain them, when a certain
interval of time has elapsed, ere they be transferred to
the paper. The same vision never comes twice to the
eye of the pen. If you scare it away, you might as well
fish for a trout after he has seen you, and darted under a
stone, or beneath his overhanging bank or root.
On the following morning we all assembled, from our
scattered dormitories, at the parlour of the Crook Inn,
and a formidable party we made. After breakfast, we re-
solved to devote ourselves sedulously to our sport ; and
as our number was considerable, and there were other
angling tourists at the inn besides ourselves, we thought
it the best plan to distribute our party over certain
portions of the main river, that we might not whip the
luck out of each other's hands. I proposed to Dr. Paley
and our two Italian friends, that we would leave the
Tweed, and ascend one of its mountain tributaries, which
flowed into it at no great distance from the Crook. This
proposition was readily assented to ; and we immediately
312 OLD FACES I2T NEW MASKS.
put ourselves into a position to carry it into full opera-
tion. Few anglers in England have ever experienced the
excitement and pleasure of fishing up a mountain torrent
in Scotland. An angler may be said to obtain a new
sense when he does this. Trouting in a mountain brook
is an experience of life so distinct from every other, that
every man should enjoy it at least once. This being
denied to many thousands of expert and zealous disciples
of the rod, the next best thing that can be done under
the circumstances is to describe an adventure of this
kind. This we shall now attempt, without keeping our-
selves strictly to the brook we are now about to ascend,
but describing the enterprise generally, with reference to
many other hilly streams, where anglers are wont to re-
create themselves during the summer months.
"Well, then, here goes for a rugged mountain rivulet
in Scotland. We have a stiffish and rather shortish rod,
in two joints, and a reel. "We walk up the mountain
road, listening as we go to the roar of the brook on the
left. In about a mile, the road crosses it, and begins to
lift itself up along the mountain-side, leaving the stream
at every step lower down on our right. You no more
see it flashing through the leaves ; but its softened rush
is audible at any moment you may choose to pause and
listen.
"We dart into it below a smart foamy fall. "We have
on strong shoes or boots, and other rig suitable. Select-
ing an entrance, we step in, and the swift stream attacks
our legs with immense earnestness, threatening at first
to take us off them; a few minutes, however, will settle
all that, and make us quite at home. The bottom of the
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO. 313
brook is not sand or gravel, but rocks, of every shape, in
every position, of all sizes, bare or moss-covered ; the
stream going over them at the rate of ten miles an hour.
The descent is great. At every few rods, cascades break
over ledges, and boil up in miniature pools below. The
trees on either side shut out all direct rays of the sun ;
and for the most part the bushes line the banks so closely,
and cast their arms over so widely, as to create a twilight
not a gray twilight, as of light losing its lustre, but a
transparent, black twilight, which softens nothing, but
gives more ruggedness to the rocks, and a sombre aspect
to the shrubs and fairest flowers. It is a great matter to
take a trout early in your trial ; it gives one more heart ;
it serves to keep us about our business. Otherwise, we
are apt to fall into unprofitable reverie ; we wake up, and
find ourselves standing in a dream, half-seeing, half-
imagining, under some covert of over-arching branches,
where the stream flows black and broad among rocks,
whose moss is green above the water, and dark beluw it.
But see what blue violets and primroses have ventured
in hither. In these black shades, through which the sun
seldom penetrates, there is yet the light of flowers.
What place is so dark, that there is no light, if we can
only wait till the eye is used to its minute quantity ? and
what place is so barren, and rugged, and so homely, that
there is no beauty, if we only have the sensibility to
relish beauty ? But by these flowers, and more which
we dimly see through the bushes, and lower down, we
judge that the rough foliage of trees is getting thinner,
and we are making an approach to a more open space.
The stream sweeps grandly about an angle, and we open
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
upon a bright, half-sunlighted reach of water. We
emerge from a long shadowy archway of leaves and trees,
and stand in the mouth of its darkness to look down upon
that illuminated spot. The leaves struck with light from
above are translucent in all their softer parts ; while
their opaque framework stands in fine contrast. The
sunlight comes chequering through the leaves, which,
moving in a gentle wind, seem to shake it off from them-
selves. It falls upon the uncovered surface of the whirl-
ing brook, and flashes back in inconstant and fragmen-
tary glances. The gravel beneath glows ; the moss upon
the upheaved stones has a golden greenness, as if it
exhaled about itself an atmosphere of colour ; the rocks
that creep down to the banks, covered, too, with deep
moss, take in spots a stray reflected light, and seem
luminous rather than illumined. A hemlock-tree by the
bank forms a sort of green tent, a hollow spire. "We
perchance fall into a musing mood, and say within our-
selves, we should like these beauties transferred to our
own cottage residence. This stream, too, ought to flow
just below the little grove at the foot of our garden ; and
that gigantic rock, grandly unshapen as it is, which has
been heaved out of its bed at some far-distant day, and
cast down here, crashing like a thunderbolt oh yes, we
must have that too in our grounds. But just here our
feet slipped from the unsteady stone, and the vision
burst like one of the bubbles at our feet, as fair, and as
fragile.
But look down below, through this sapphire and
emerald atmosphere, and see the dark arches into which
the stream presses headlong. The descent is greater
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEARS AGO. 315
there ; and the water makes haste .into the shadows ;
while the trees frown upon it, and cast up pearl-drops, as
it wheels toward a plunge, that even in that gloom seems
to emit a pale light. One could stand here by the hour.
This rush of wild waters about our feet ; this utter law-
lessness of power and beauty, so solitary, with such
instant contrasts, with the sound of waters beneath, and
of leaves above ; and you alone, standing in the fascina-
tion, until you feel as if you were a part of the scene ;
and then that strange sensation steals over you, as if you
were exhaling as if you were passing out of yourself,
and going into diffusive alliance with the whole scene.
You reel, and start, and wake up, saying, " Well well,
this is not trouting ;" and start off, forgetful of stones,
crevices, slippery moss, and roots of trees, as if you were
on a level road. You are brought, however, to conscious-
ness at your third step and slip, by a plunge, and find
yourself in the most natural manner upon your hands
and knees. You cannot help laughing at your ludicrous
posture : the water damming itself up upon you as un-
ceremoniously as if you were a log, and making a pet
eddy in the neighbourhood of your breeches-pocket.
You even stop to sup up a mouthful of drink, and heartily
wish that somebody you know could only be peeping
through the bushes at your predicament, getting a great
deal of innocent happiness at your expense, but not at
your damage*
Gathering up our awkward body, we slunge along
down stream, through the radiant spots into the dark, up
to the falls, over which we peer ; and learning discretion
from experience, we deem it best to take the shore, and
316 OLD FACES IN" NEW MASKS.
walk round the fall. We are repaid for the trouble by
three trout, neatly slipped out of their aqueous nest into
our willow basket. Stepping in again, we pursue our
way with varied experience for a quarter of a mile, when
we enter a narrow gorge. The rocks coine down in a
body to the stream on either side. There are no side
bushes. The way opens up through the air, far above
you, to the receding mountain-sides, upon which stand a
few dwarfish trees. The very stream seems to take some-
thing of dignity from its surroundings. It gathers its
forces, contracts its channel, darkens its surface, and
moves down to a succession of falls, over which one feels
no disposition to plunge. And so, climbing along the
edges of the rock, prying into each crevice with our toes,
grasping twig, and root, and stem, we perch ourselves
midway, where we see the fall above us and look down
to the fall below us. Here we dream for half-an-hour
a waking, gazing dream. We study each shoal and
indentation of the water its bursts of crystal drops,
ever-changing, yet always the same. On the far side
come down sheaves of water-stems ; nowhere is the water
transparent and colourless. From side to side, from top
to bottom, within and without, it is stuck through and
through with air-mixed drops, so that it sheets down from
top to bottom like a flow of diamonds, and pearls, and crys-
tals. Beneath are long trunks of trees, which some of the
frequent spates bring down and hurl over, where, striking
headlong, they have stuck fast, and lie gaunt-upright.
How rich and rare are the mosses in this ravine !
We sit down on their moist plush, and find miniature
palms and fern-like branches, and all manner of real and
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAKS AGO. 317
fanciful resemblances. The flowers too, these humble
friends, have not forsaken this wild glen: they have
crept up to drink at the very edge of the water ; they
hang secure and fearless from crevices on the face of the
perpendicular rocks, and every way different species are
retreating to their seed-forms, or advancing to their bud,
or are shaking their blossoms to the wind, which comes
up from the gorge made by the falling water.
Here, indeed, is good companionship here is space
for deep and strange joy. If the thought turns to po-
pulous cities, it seems like a dream. One can hardly
realize the existence of crowded streets, narrow alleys,
and the din and squalor which meet the eye at every turn
in our great hives of commercial and manufacturing en-
terprise. In this dim twilight, without a voice except
of wind and waters, where all is primeval, solitary, and
rudely beautiful, we seem as if lifted above ourselves.
Our own nature our longings our hopes and affections
our faith and trust in a superior Being, appear to live
here with quiet and unshrinking life ; neither ruffled nor
driven back, nor overlaid by all the contacts, and bur-
dens, and duties of multitudinous life in the city ! "We
ask ourselves, why may we not carry from such solitudes
that freshness which we feel that trustfulness to what
is real that repugnance to all that is mere outside and
artificial? "Why cannot we always find this spiritu-
ality of converse as readily as in these lonely mountain
brooks ?
But we must hasten on. A few more spotted spoils
await us below. "We make for some choice part of the
brook. "We pierce the hollow of overhanging bushes
318 OLD FACES IN 2?EW MASKS,
we strike across the patches of sunlight, which grow more
frequent as we get lower down towards the plain. AVe
take our share of tumbles and slips ; we patiently extri-
cate our entangled line, again and again, as it is sucked
down under some bush root, or whirled round some net-
work of foliage protruding from the bank. Here and there
we forget our errand as we break in upon some cove of
moss, when our dainty feet halt upon green velvet, more
beautiful a thousand times than ever sprung from looms
at Brussels or Kidderminster. At length, however, the
charm was broken ; and we became the most prosaic of
mortals. We heard the distant clatter of some mill or
farmyard; and in a few moments the brook was con-
verted into some huge mill or horsepond ; and then
vanished all our day-dreams engendered in the wild and
unfrequented recesses of the higher parts of the stream.
There is a pecularity connected with angling in the
Tweed. It often happens that the best days for sport are
obtained in small tributaries, especially if there has been
a sharp shower among the hills, which has made the
streams a little thick and puddly. On such occasions,
the trout in the main water are quite sulky, while those
in the brooks feed greedily on everything presented to
them. There is, moreover, a very marked distinc-
tion, both as to the general size and colour, between
the trout of the feeders to the Tweed, and those in
the chief river itself, and this distinction remains from
year to year the same. It has quite a permanency of
character, and doubtless owes its existence to perma-
nent causes likewise. "When we came from our excursion
up the rivulet, we found, on comparing notes, that Dr.
DAYS O^ THE TWEED SIXTY TEAES AGO. 319
Paley and I had nearly equal numbers, and all the fish
about the same size, but that our Italian cousins fell
considerably behind. The doctor was enchanted with
his day's exploits; and rather the more so, when he
came back to the Crook, and found that the earl and his
party had only had partial success in the main river.
They had caught, however, one clean-run salmon of
about eight, and a fine red trout nearly two pounds'
weight. After the usual congratulations and inquiries
on meeting again, we set to work on a good substantial
dinner, and soon became very merry. Our accommodation
was of a roughish cast ; but this amounted to nothing.
It is astonishing how soon we can throw off the deli-
cacies and little comforts of polished life. By living a
few days in this half-wilderness condition, we seem to be
cut off almost from civilization and the past. We forget
the luxuries, and beauties, and diseases of society. Just
now we do not care either to enjoy them or to cure them.
"We eat with jack-knives and old broken pewter or iron
spoons, and drink out of rusty tin and broken ware pots.
We throw ourselves on the mossy or grassy banks of the
streams, and almost declare we shall never be tempted to
lie in a feather-bed again. One of the best effects of
this rambling life with the rod, is the complete separa-
tion it makes, for a time, between ourselves and our out-
ward habitual life. The soul rises up, and throws off
the coverings, which have been gathered over itself, and
over the things about it. It looks abroad beyond the
relations which circumstances have fastened upon it
here. It sees clearly a nobler path set before it, always
longed for but never trod ; it feels the vanity and worth-
320 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
lessness of many of the objects for which men usually
toil; it seems to stand above the narrowness of sects,
the prejudices of nations, the childishness, and thought-
lessness, and illiberality of men, and to measure things
by their infinite standards, and it breathes for a time
something like a spiritual atmosphere.
Dr. Paley remarked, after our repast, that he had
been much struck, in our peregrinations up the brook,
with the beauty and variety of the mosses which we met
with in the midst of the stream. He had gathered
many specimens of them. I happened to remark to him,
that the notion that the Deity had made everything so
beautiful, even in the most minute objects, as incitements
to gratitude, in order to give us pleasure, seemed to me
only half a view of the subject. Science shows that the
same exquisite beauty goes into the most hidden objects
things, like the mosses and shells on the sea-bottom,
and the crystals of the snow, which never could be re-
vealed to human eye.
" You are right," said the doctor, with great emphasis,
" and the same thing may be said relative to the won-
derful harmony and proportion which scientific discoveries
reveal in every part of the creation in the laws of the
planets, the structure of animals, or in mineral crystalli-
zation. It seems a narrow view to make man the aim
and object of all this wonderful order even to make his
earth the centre of intelligent existence. The harmony
was where no eye or ear could ever be. I always think
of the Almighty as making all pleasure and beauty
because it gave Himself pleasure."
" I do not," said the Earl of Taukerville, " essentially
DAYS Oy THE TWEED SIXTY YEABS AGO. 321
differ from you ; but rather conceive the Deity as a per-
fect artist, who created beauty and harmony, because he
could not help it ; because, wherever he worked, he must
express his own nature, and it was impossible for him to
make a universe, without making it in order and beauty.
It would have been equally so, if no eye, or ear, or mind
had ever been created to enjoy it. Yet I conceive such
a Being must intensely enjoy our pleasure in his works."
"Thank you, my lord," said Paley ; "and I would
take the liberty of throwing out a doubt more with the
view to touching other minds, than to express one of my
own whether such discoveries, made by recent philoso-
phers, showing a type of structure running through the
animal creation, as if the Deity had created on great
necessary principles, or on archetypal ideas which lay
back in his own nature, did not weaken the old argument
from individual contrivance to a contriver or creator :
whether, for instance, you could speak of a particular
limb and arrangement of muscles producing certain
effects, as proving the design of the Maker in that special
case, when you found that the placing of this limb was
part of a great plan ; in some conditions it being only
rudimentary and imperfect, in others half-developed, and
in others still more developed, and useful for more
objects than in the case supposed ? "Whether the general
features of this vast plan did not rather indicate an in-
telligent contriver, than any particular instance of special
skill or intention ? "
The earl replied, " That he could not see why they
should not indicate both individual contrivances and
general contrivances. It was the old truth, variety
Y
OLD FACES I>* >*ZW MASKS.
coming under the great law of simplicity. A rudiment-
ary organ, in one case, would disprove nothing in regard
to the invention manifested in a perfect organ in another.
A vast universal plan may have within it continual in-
dividual contrivances : and of the imperfect or rudiment-
ary contrivances we can only say, We are ignorant"
" Come, now," said Mr. Balph Brandling, ' ; you are
diving too deep for our limited knowledge and capacities ;
let me direct your attention to a contrivance I made use
of to-day for taking trout. I used a charm, a kind of
strongly-scented bait, which an old London friend of
mine gave me last summer, and which, he said, would
enable me to take all the fish in any pool where it was
used/'
" Bah ! " said the earl, " these nostrums are all gone
by long ago."
"Well. I am not so sure about that, my lord," said
Mr. Balph; "these strongly-scented compounds are
among the oldest devices for the capture of fish of every
kind. I have one prescription of the thirteenth, and I
have seen another of the date of the fourteenth century.
They seem sufficiently absurd, I am free to confess ; but
there may be something in them, after all."
" You had better appeal to your own individual ex-
perience, Mr. Brandling ; it is a surer guide than any
musty black-letter lore. "WTiat success had you yester-
day with your own compound ? "
" Nothing, I must confess."
" I fancy not," rejoined the earl ; " but now, when
we are speaking on the subject, I shall tell you a story
of Sam Foote, the fomous comedian. Sam was dining at
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO. 323
Eton with a party, among whom was a Signer Domine-
cetti, an Italian physician, who had the reputation of
being somewhat of a quack, but who realized a great
fortune here. The doctor was profusely perfumed, and
this was offensive to Foote, who never could bear any-
thing of this kind. Some friends proposed to have a
fishing party on the river. A punt, with chairs and
tackle, was provided at Piper's, near the bridge ; and as
the party stood at the door of the old boatman, talking
of the learning of the college, Foote was working his
nostrils backwards and forwards, saying, * Pshaw ! con-
found your scents ! I hate all scents ! ' ' Vat is dat for?
Mine Grote, you hate sense, Maistare Foote you who
are the greatest of wits ? ' ' No no,' said the player ;
* I hate fops and fools.' 'Ah! dat is good,' replied the
doctor ; ' ha ! ha ! ha ! ' The party remained on the
Thames till dusk, but caught no fish. * Yeree strange ! *
cried the doctor. ' Strange ! ' echoed Foote ; ' zounds,
doctor, the fish smelt you, and would not bite ! ' 1
Our Italian friends laughed heartily at this anecdote of
their countryman, and they afiirmed that odoriferous com-
pounds were frequently used in Italy, especially by those
who fished in still waters, sucli as canals, lakes, and the like.
" But with poor success, I dare say," said the earl.
" I have seen a kind of fishing in Rome which I think
amusing enough, especially to a foreigner. From a very
early period of carnival festivities, in most Catholic
countries, there has been a custom of little groups of
two or three persons, under masks, going the round of
the streets with long fishing-rods, furnished with a lino
about two-thirds of its length, and made of small twine
324 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
or strong horse-hair. At the end of this is appended
a metal button and a piece of sponge. Thus equipped,
the parties set out on a tour among the crowd, holding-
out a promise that whoever shall be so adroit as to catch
the button in his mouth, will be rewarded with a small
piece of silver money. The sponge is saturated with
paints black, red, and yellow. The amusement lies in
managing the rod, in imitation of worm-fishing, in such
a way, by dodging it up and down over the gaping
mouths seeking to lay hold of the button, as to bedaub
the faces of these human gudgeons with the paint from
the sponge. When managed, it is a very comical affair,
and generally excites a good deal of merriment and
attention. The anglers always promptly pay the prize,
whenever the button is fairly caught in the mouth.
These ' fishers of men' are commonly above the average
height, and on this account command a wider and freer
range of the rod and line over the heads of the crowd.
"Whenever the unlucky wights have their faces copiously
bedaubed with paint, there is a general and hearty roar
of laughter from the spectators. During the pontificate
of Leo X., two of the leading clergy of Home lost their
lives in the pursuit of this frolicsome amusement during
the carnival. They refused to give a piece of money to
a man who had fairly and cleverly caught the button in
his mouth, simply on the ground that he was notoriously
of a very questionable character. This excited the wrath
of the bystanders, who took the part of the man, and the
affair led to the assassination of both clergymen. This
fishing amusement I have witnessed both in France and
the Netherlands."
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEA11S AGO. 325
"That is catching live fish with a vengeance," said
Dr. Paley.
" It is indeed," rejoined the earl ; " and now that
phrase 'live fish' has brought to my recollection an
amusing incident which happened to my friend David
Garrick, who told me the story in nearly the following
words : ' I had been for some weeks unwell, and deter-
mined to go to the country for a few days, to try and get
up my strength. I ordered a chaise, and in half an hour
it was at my door ; and I told the post-boy to take me to
any inn out of town, where I might have good air, a clean
room, and no clatter. In two hours and a-quarter I was
at Longford. This is a straggling village on the road to
Windsor, about fourteen miles from the metropolis. As
the landlord helped me out of the chaise, " You may see,
friend," said I, " I am an invalid, and I am glad to observe
written on your sign ' Live Pish.' Let me have some
dressed for dinner directly ; it is indeed the only thing I
can eat ; but to serve the house, you may add something
else you have in the larder that is delicate." I waited
until I grew faint, when the landlord bounced into the
room, and sneaked down under my nose a fat baked
shoulder of mutton, smothered with onions. " Zounds ! "
said I, " where' s the fish ? I expected trout from the
stream here, or gudgeon, or eels, or cray-fish, at least,
or " He answered me, " They never had any but
salt-water fish, and they only came from London once
a-week, except by particular order." " Then your sign
tells an untruth ? " said I. "An Irish gentleman," said
he, " accused me of that last [Friday ; for when I brought
him to table as fine and fresh a haddock as ever swam in
326 OLD PACES IT* NEW MASKS.
the sea, lie flew into a violent passion, and cried out,
1 Landlord, your board writes up, "Live Pish," and, by
St. Patrick, you scoundrel, this boiled haddock is as dead
as a herring.' "
" My lord and gentlemen," said Paley, " the night is
now far spent ; we must retire, or we shall be in a muddy
condition for to-morrow's sport."
To this appeal a general assent was given, and we all
dispersed to our respective roosting localities.
The morning proved wet, and the river had come
down thick and rather heavy. There was a general desire
that some should try the salmon-roe as bait ; the water
being in good condition for it. Four of the party were
amply provided with this article, and in about a couple of
hours they all had more fine trout than their baskets
would hold. There is something absolutely mysterious
about the use of this bait ; and one can scarcely avoid
giving countenance to the doctrines of charms, and
odoriferous fascinations. I went myself on this occasion
to reaches of still water, where, under other circum-
stances, I never would have dreamed of throwing in a
line, and I stood pulling out the fish in a surprisingly
quick manner ; so much so, indeed, that you are forced
into the conclusion that they must have a most rave-
nous fondness for the roe, and that through some one
or more of their senses or instincts, they have likewise
the means of detecting its existence at a considerable
distance. Mr. Brandling thought the success we had
to-day with this bait went a long way in demonstrating
that the finny tribes had a keen sense of smelling ; and
even the Earl of Tankerville did not now appear so de-
DAYS OIS r THE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO. 327
termined a sceptic as to their possession of this odori-
ferous instinct in a high degree of perfection. But, after
all, to fish with this salted roe is a huckstering mode of
angling. I have always had a great personal dislike to
it, though I have occasionally used it ; more, however,
from motives of curiosity than anything else. The
frequent use of it wars against the chief object in all
angling that is not mere pot angling. Of course, if
a man has to fish for his dinner, that is quite a different
matter. All means are then lawful and expedient. But
when gentlemen fish for sport, they voluntarily place
themselves under a code of laws to which they are bound
to pay the most implicit obedience. The grand object of
this code is to elevate and spiritualize the art of rod-
fishing ; to make it a gentlemanly recreation, and to look
upon the capture of fish as altogether a subordinate
object to the cheerful and healthy rambling by the river-
side, and the cultivation of a love of nature in all her
simple and unsophisticated moods and phases. This it is
which constitutes angling which makes man a true
angler and which imparts to him rational pleasure and
intellectual improvement. We readily admit that the
sport of angling is somewhat confined in its range and
object ; but it must be remembered that a large class of
men are fitted by nature to make the most of such
limited sources of amusement, and are able to bring so
many of their pleasantest thoughts and feelings to bear
upon them, that they can draw a larger amount of posi-
tive enjoyment from them than others who possess much
better opportunities of obtaining it. The felicity of such
tempered minds consists in not looking far beyond their
328 OLD FACES IK NEW MASKS.
precise condition for recreative materials, so that they do
not run the risk of wasting their time in searching for
good in channels where it might be passed in its fruition.
Another principle involved in the sport of rod-fishing is
worth noticing. It is an independent amusement. In
making choice of it, we are not placing ourselves in the
position of adopting such modes of recreation as may
depend exactly on our being at all times in the same
circumstances of rank and fortune, and so not exposing
ourselves to the chance of dying of chagrin and melan-
choly, should we lose our money, or fall out with our
acquaintance.
Nor do we mean that every man should be a gentle-
man, in the common acceptation of that term, or be a
person of rare and gifted intellect, to relish angling. No
doubt that books, and habits of thought and contem-
plation, greatly heighten the pleasures to be derived from
many sources of recreation ; but these aids are often of too
subtile a nature to work upon many minds. It is one of
the benevolent laws of the world, that the sources of pure
and innocent delight are not confined to the few persons
of deep thought and a spiritualized temperament. Nature
has not been so niggard in the distribution of the furni-
ture of the universe, as to leave a large class of men
without external objects of enjoyment, every way fitted
to yield that satisfaction and tranquillity of mind which
others may perhaps obtain from their own mental re-
sources. The pleasant sights and sounds of the country,
the thousand forms the spirit of life assumes, and the
combinations of thought and employment springing from
these, are the common patrimony of our race ; and the
DAYS OX THE TWEED SIXTY YEARS AGO. 329
great bulk of men are principally nappy because they
know how to enjoy this common benefit, and refuse to
barter its possession for the fictitious distinctions of the
world. It will be found from experience, as well as from
the very constitution of things, that few persons are of a
more happy turn of mind than anglers. Tranquil, and
contented with their mode of recreation, they become
assimilated to the scenes they frequent, lose much of the
worldliness of mere gain-getting, and insensibly acquire
that gentle and subdued tone of feeling, which, if it does
not raise them above their fellow-men, makes them, at
least, most susceptible of the pleasant and benevolent. "We
only say this of those who pursue the art of rod-fishing
with diligence, and keep themselves from all grovelling
or ignoble applications of it. It always gives us real
pain to see men angle in a Billingsgate spirit ; grumbling
and sour whenever the fish are not in the exact humour
of taking, and who never think themselves happy unless
they have their creels fuller of fish than their sporting
companions. All this is entirely alien to a genuine
angler's thoughts and habits.
We have now spent ten days at the Crook, and have
enjo} r ed ourselves exceedingly, both from the sport of the
rod, and from the general current of social and intellec-
tual intercourse. We must, however, make up our mind
to leave these pleasant solitudes for the present ; but we
part from them with reluctance. How soon the mind
forms attachment to places and things ! The mountains,
and gorges, and knolls, and turns of the river become
old acquaintances, which claim and obtain our kindliest
sympathies. We set off in the evening of the tenth day ;
380 OLD FACES IIS* NEW MASKS.
some of the party having to go in one direction, and
some in another, to pay friendly visits to persons in the
neighbourhood. As we left the Crook, the sun was
wheeling behind the mountains. Already their broad
shades began to fall upon the level parts of the landscape.
Their lofty ridges stood sharp against the fire-bright
horizon, which was here and there darkened by huge
masses of vapour below. As we gained a more ele-
vated position, we saw the brilliant landscape growing
suddenly dull by thick batches of clouds on its forward
line, and growing as suddenly bright upon its rear trace.
But the shadows of the high grounds became more ex-
tended, and the sun sunk behind a burning horizon.
'Now we bid farewell to the scenes of our recreation.
We think again of home with its many simple and
sweet endearments. How expansive and varied are
human sympathies and feelings ! They give us a faint
conception of the infinite itself, of a vastness that is
overwhelming, and of a littleness that dwarfs our self-
importance, and makes us hide our heads under a sense
of deep humiliation. Twilight has nearly departed. We
have still some miles to ride, but this creates no anxiety
or uneasiness, as we go to a friend's house, where we
have a plenteous store of kind offices, and as much
unaffected benevolence of feeling as can be found in
a human breast.
TRIP THIED AND LAST.
THE art of angling is unquestionably of great antiquity.
Many queer and quaint fancies were prevalent on the
DAYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO. 331
subject during the middle ages. I have a passionate
fondness for all ancient things ; and have always enter-
tained the opinion that the art of fishing, in its widest
sense, like many other arts, was revealed to man at his
creation. Why should not this be ? Is it probable that
man would be put down upon the earth a type, we are
assured, of the Divinity himself with not a particle of
knowledge how to satisfy his urgent wants for a single
hour ? Is this in good keeping with the other provisions
of nature ? Man would, in this case, spite of his boasted
reason, be more cruelly treated than the meanest form of
animal life on the face of the earth. It would be a pretty
considerable time before a being.placed in the garden of
Eden, but soon driven from it, would learn to capture
wild animals by the chase, or to hook fishes in the lakes
and rivers. We hear much in modern times of the
doctrine of human progression, and I am willing to sub-
scribe to all the leading principles of the theory ; but I
maintain that the hypothesis of progress would receive
no logical damage by considering man as having had re-
vealed to him some of the elements of the sciences and
arts to guide him as having been furnished, so to speak,
with a little stock of knowledge with which to make a fair
start in his career of life. It is not asking too much to
concede the revelation of the rudiments of secular know-
ledge. Every theory must have some gratuitous basis to
stand on, and there are some circumstances that give a
colouring to our notions on this point, which are worth
stating. Limiting our remarks to a small number of
subjects, we know that fishing, and hunting, and even
mining, with several other things, are spoken of in the
332 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
Book of Genesis not as new inventions or discoveries
but as mere matters of course, matters well known and
practised. The fourth and fifth generations from Adam
were all able workmen in the arts of life, and were con-
versant with the abstract principles of scientific investi-
gation. Now this hardly squares in with our common
notions of progress. Looking at angling, for example, it
is a great stretch of thought to conceive how the idea of
a hook or a net should ever have come into the heads of
the early fathers of the human family, from any reason-
ings or suggestions a priori. If we consider how perfect
these articles were, from the earliest stages of which we
have any record of them, we can hardly imagine they
were the result of various progressive steps of ingenuity
and skill. Look at the figure of an angler on one of the
Assyrian slabs in the British Museum, and there you see
as neat a fishing-rod and fishing-creel as any that Alfred,
of Moorgate Street, London, can make at the present
hour. And if we consider further, that there has been
over the entire face of the earth, in all ages, the same
radical types of fishing-gear, we cannot but see that the
probability is, that a knowledge of these articles sprung
from one source the first family of the human race.
Add to this, that there have always been dim traditions
of the modes of fishing and hunting found sculptured
upon ancient pillars and rocks ; and a very learned paper
was recently read at the Eoyal Academy of Turin, where-
in it was maintained, that nearly all the arts for the im-
mediate conservation of human life were the offshoots of
tradition from the primitive races of mankind. I heartily
subscribe to this doctrine. But, at the same time, it is a
DAYS OJT THE TWEED SIXTY TEAKS AGO. 333
matter to be lamented that we have no clear history of
the early movements of our race. All is dark conjec-
ture and speculation.
These reflections were running through my mind one
fine summer's evening, in the latter end of the month of
May, when I espied at a distance the figure of an old friend
pacing up the hill to my house, with fishing-rod, basket,
and a small portmanteau. This gentleman I will call the
Reverend Mr. Goodman, a minister of the Established
Church, of Edinburgh, and one of the most skilful and
enthusiastic anglers of his day. He and I were to set off
the next morning to the village of Broughton, in Peebles-
shire, to meet a number of piscatorians from various parts
of England. The reverend gentleman came breathless
into the parlour, panting under his load and the oppres-
sive heat of the day together, and throwing down his
fishing-traps, exclaimed, " This is a wearisome and toil-
some world. I cannot have a little recreation unless at
the expense of considerable inconvenience. I bolted to-
day from my home, determined to have, at any cost, a
breath of pure air, and to bathe my spirit once more in
the ethereal blue of heaven by the river-side. Ah ! you
little know, my good friend, what it is to be a minister in
such a city as Edinburgh."
"My good sir," replied I, "I am astonished at
your remarks. Why, I always looked upon you as
having one of the most enviable and cosy nooks in
social life ; little to do, and well paid for what you do
perform."
" You think and talk just as the world thinks and
talks." Here he took a glass of ale, and wiped the
334 OLD FACES IK NEW MASKS.
perspiration from his brow, and continued : " Let me
speak a word or two on this topic. Men in the country
may, and often do, work incessantly, and up to the
measure of their strength ; and a city clergyman can, I
allow, do no more than that. Yet the labour of a city
pastor is more exacting, and more exhaustive of nervous
vitality. Unless he shut himself up, and bar and bolt
his seclusion, he knows nothing either of leisure or rest,
in the sense :of quietness and being let alone. The very
hum and roar of the streets are a never-ceasing excite-
ment. To walk through the thoroughfares, to see the
rush, and whirl, and anxious haste of such a moving mass
of humanity, imparts something feverish to one's mind.
Then there is an endless succession of things to be done,
that require time for the doing, but leave you nothing
to show at the end of the week. There are committees,
meetings of session, and consultations ; there are private
meetings and public meetings ; there are new movements
to be initiated, and old ones to be kept up. Everybody
has everything to do, and clergymen are the ones expected
to advise everybody about everything that does not come
within limitation of business-partnerships. The sick
have a right to the minister. If they be strangers and
poor, a yet better right. The poor have a right to expect
that he, at least, will have concern for them. The afflicted
look to him. Those who are in comfort, whose friends
are good counsellors, do not know how many thousands
there are in the city who have no one to go to. A widow
wishes to put her boy to a good trade ; who shall advise
her ? who shall ascertain for her if the place thought of
be safe, and the man honourable ? A young man is run
DAYS ON TIIE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO.
down and discouraged lacks a place and means of live-
lihood. Where, among strangers, can he find help, if
ministers do not give it to him ? Parents are troubled
about their children, just passing through the crisis of
life ; they are not boys any longer, nor are they men. It
is a help and a comfort, if they have not better advisers,
to go to their minister"
" JSTow, my good friend," said I, " do not excite your-
self, from the casual remark I made. I know that minis-
ters have many and highly onerous duties, which the
world generally knows nothing of. Come, now, let me
see your fly-book. You'll have something rare and spicy
for the Tweed to-morrow. We shall have lots of fun.
Get some tea, and a few slices of tongue, and we'll close
all the evening's proceedings with a genial glass of
toddy."
" Well, but I must stand by ' my order.' I will, how-
ever, reserve the other remarks I was about to make till
another opportunity, since you are so bent on social
enjoyment, and on hearing the Edinburgh news."
Mr. Goodman and I set off in the morning by early
dawn, and on arriving at Broughton, situated about a
mile and a-half from the Tweed, we found our friends,
Sir Francis Blake, Bart., of Twizel Castle, Northumber-
land, Mr. Thomas Bewick, the famous wood-engraver, of
ISTewcastle-upon-Tyne, Mr. Thomas Holcroft, the novelist
and dramatic writer, and three or four more gentlemen,
whose names we did not immediately learn. After the
mutual greetings passed over, and preparations were
made for our resting-places in the evening, we set out
for the river. The Tweed, for a few miles above ami
'33G OLD PACES IN ]S T EW MASKS.
below this locality, abounds with the finest streams for
fly-fishing. Fishers call streams good and fine, when
they have a peculiar conformation. All kinds of rapidly-
flowing water does not constitute a stream, according to
his ideas. The fly-fisher, if worth his salt, is an artist.
He has abstract principles of the sublime and beautiful
in running water, which he ever carries with him. These
common fishers know no more of, than a sign-painter
knows of the rules and principles of historical painting.
Our angling artist has an eye which can scan the capa-
bilities of a piece of water in a moment, and can point
out to you every inch of it where a trout or salmon lies.
This is the grand secret of his success, and the glory of
his craft.
The party distributed itself after reaching the river,
some going up, and some down the stream. I and Mr.
G-oodman followed Thomas Bewick, Holcroft, and Sir
Francis Blake down the river. The day was favourable,
and before parting, it was agreed by all, that if any one
should be so fortunate as to obtain a salmon of ten
pounds or upwards, we should have what is termed " a
kettle of fish" that is, boil it on the spot. This was a
favourite epicurean dish in my day. I found the New-
castle artist, as well as Mr. Holcroft, excellent fly-fishers :
the latter I thought the better of the two. He threw a
longer and lighter line. Indeed, I have invariably ob-
served that anglers from the south of England, who have
really made fly-fishing a regular amusement, throw a
better line than the same grade of Scottish fishers do.
The reason of this is, I apprehend, that in England the
most of the angling rivers are very clear and still, not of
DATS OX THE TWEED SIXTY TEAES AGO. 337
that tumbling and rapid cast which mostly prevail in the
mountainous districts in Scotland. The former waters
require the lightest and finest tackle ; and this, in its
turn, begets that mechanical adroitness requisite for its
effective use.
I soon saw that Thomas Bewick was quite a character :
that is, a man wrapped up in his own profession. It was
amusing to see him stand gazing with the most fixed in-
tenseness on some old withered root of a tree, an odd-
looking stone, a dog or a cow in any grotesque position,
an overhanging branch of a tree, or a deep rushing eddy
in the stream. Though passionately fond of fishing, the
moment he got his eye fixed on any oddity in nature or
art, hje immediately suspended his angling operations till
he had the object photographed, so to speak, on his
mind. He lived quite in a world of his own. Though
not an absent, he appeared in the eyes of the world as a
dull man that is, he never warmed into a social enthu-
siasm, unless something connected with his profession
and genius was concerned. I happened to let a remark
drop about Albert Diirer and Hans Holbein, when he
suddenly laid down his rod, seated himself on a grassy
knoll, and said, with great fervour and heat, " I consider
both these artists as great men. As to the, controversy
which some modern critics have raised, as to whether
Diirer and Holbein were really the engravers of the
works commonly attributed to them, I consider as sheer
nonsense. That some shallow coxcomb, who does not
know the mere elements of art, should put forth, after
the lapse of a couple of centuries, what he calls his
doubts as to this or that man being the real author of
338 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
the works which have hitherto been unanimously ascribed
to him, appears to me the most outrageous thing imagin-
able* I have no patience with such scribblers. I think
there is something unjust, nay, positively cruel, in at-
tempting to deprive genius of the honours which have
for so long been awarded to it. I never read the dispute
about Holbein's engravings but with feelings of disgust.
The arguments and statements of many of the writers
are so childish, that one cannot seriously entertain them.
They allow that the works attributed both to Diirer and
Holbein exist, that they possess singular merit, that both
were distinguished men of genius, every way equal to
their execution ; and yet the general credibility of history
is to be overturned upon some fanciful data, altogether
gratuitous and irrational. If such principles were adopted
respecting the history of all other kinds of arts and
sciences, it would be totally impossible to say who was
or was not the author of what the general testimony of
history has attributed to him. "Who knows but that
some critic of a paradoxical genius may arise a couple of
centuries after this, should my humble name be so long
remembered, and throw out doubts as to my own
labours ? It is easy to see that a smart writer, by
making out a special case, and demanding proof of what
cannot, from the nature of things, be given, might so far
succeed as to throw doubts about matters of fact whicli
rest upon the most incontrovertible evidence. In one
word, I have no patience with such disputes." So say-
ing, he hastily grasped his rod, and in he dashed to the
stream, and commenced fishing with intense ardour.
On beating up at Broughton in the evening, 3Ir.
>AYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEAKS AGO. 339
Holcroft carried off the palm of piscatory honour, both
in point of number of fish, and in the largeness of their
size. In addition to his well-filled basket of handsome
trout, he had a fine newly-run salmon, of about five
pounds, which had yielded him nearly two hours' good
sport. Sir Erancis Blake and Mr. Groodman stood next
in point of honour. Dinner was in due course provided,
and, after the cloth was drawn, and our hearts became a
little mellow, we spent a most delightful evening. Mr.
Holcroft enlivened the company with many piscatory
stories and anecdotes, which he had a peculiar knack
of setting off in true dramatic style. One of these I
well remember. It related to a well-known London
angler, who gained great notoriety in his day for the sin-
gular punctuality with which he regulated all his sport-
ing movements. Holcroft mentioned that the story
was told him by the Rev. Mr. Daniells, the well-known
author of "British Field Sports," who was at the time
confined in prison for debt, and where the reverend
divine ended his days. The story ran thus : About the
year 1750, there lived in Blackmail Street, Southwark, a
Mr. John Marsden, a most enthusiastic angler, who had
frequented the river Lea for a great number of years,
and prided himself on his arrival at a certain inn on its
banks twice a-week, at precisely eight o'clock in the
morning. He allowed himself about two hours to walk
the entire distance. He visited the river on the Tuesdays
and Fridays of each week during the fishing season ; and
so punctual were his movements, that he set off home
just as the clock struck four in the afternoon. He
dined always at twelve, at the inn, 011 a mutton chop ;
340 OLD FACES IN" ^TE"W MASKS.
and lie left the river and came to the house for this ex-
press purpose. After his repast, he smoked a pipe, and
took a small glass of brandy and cold water. To each of
these , respective acts he fixed a precise moment of time
for their commencement and completion. It was related
of him, that one day, when the moment arrived for his
going to dinner, he had a large trout on his line, which
seemed to give him a deal of trouble to kill. But his
punctual habits were not to be broken in upon; and
seeing another angler hard by, he beckoned to him,
placed the rod in his hand, with the fish floundering
in the water, and said, " Hold this till I go dine."
Marsden took his usual time over his meal, his glass, and
his pipe, and came to his rod again, where he found the
fish still full of life. About an hour after it was cap-
tured, and found to weigh about six pounds and a-half..
Marsden had kept up these visits to the Lea, and to the
same inn, for the space of 'forty-two years, never missing a
single day in the season. He died suddenly one evening
after returning from his regular amusement on the Lea.
One hundred and twenty well-known anglers, in and
about London, followed his body to its resting-place.
On our next morning's turn-out we directed our
steps to the same localities on the river, with the excep-
tion of two or three of the party, who took a run up the
Eiggar "Water, and one or two of the smaller feeders to
the Tweed. We had not been above a couple of hours
on the river till Sir Francis was fortunate to kill a clean-
run salmon, of about twelve pounds' weight. Immediate
proceedings took place for a "kettle of fish." The
baronet sent his footman to collect all the members of
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEAES AGO. 341
the party to a given spot to partake of the repast. In
the first place, the salmon was crimped as soon as landed,
and afterwards washed. Three or four stones were laid
in a circular form, and a fire of sticks kindled within the
circle ; a kettle was provided, and the fish, as soon as the
water was upon the boil, was placed into it, with a certain
portion of salt. Twenty minutes is a sufficient time to
do the fish properly. Bread, beer, and spirits were all
provided in abundance. We had no plates, but each
took his slice of fish upon a piece of bread ; and I need
not say that we all relished this picnic feast most
amazingly. I thought salmon never tasted to me so
sweet before. Bewick and Holcroft were deeply in-
terested in this " kettle " affair : the former took a sketch
of the party sitting feeding round the blazing fire ; and the
latter turned the mode of cooking into rhyme, and the
effusion was read in the evening. I took a copy of the
piece at the time ; but I regret it is now nearly all illegible,
with the exception of a few lines, which, considering the
literary reputation of the writer, and the occasion on
which they were dashed off, I shall here insert, mutilated
and unconnected as they are :
" A noble fish, some hours before,
Was taken when he struck the shore ;
The hook unfix'd, stunn'd on the head,
And by the gills profusely bled ;
Scraped with a knife on either side,
And ranged in cuts three inches wide ;
The back-bone left to form a string.
* * * * *
A pan of metal, light and thin,
Of oyal form, inlaid with tin j
342 OLD FACES Itf XEW MASKS.
The handle arcn'd, the bottom flat,
In which a drainer neatly sat,
Eaised on the stones, above the flame,
Kept bubbling till the party came.
* * *
The anglers with a relish laid
Aside each bonnet, hat, and plnid ;
In every hand a slice of bread,
Where by a side-cut, tail or head,
As hard as coral from the south,
Yet soft as custard in the mouth ;
Like polish'd pebble, jowl and fin,
Rich, pure, and sweet, the belly thin ;
The massive back in folds conceal'd,
A creamy substance, pure reveal'd ;
The salt diffused through every pore,
Curdled the pith ne'er seen before ;
While broken fragments show'd below,
The layers as hard as frozen snow."*
As soon as we had finished onr drams over the " kettle
of fish," Thomas Bewick made a rush to the river, a little
"below, where he espied a country lad in his working dress
crossing a ford of the river on a horse, with a pitchfork
and a hay-rake in his hand. The horse was an old one,
and the whole scene had something graphic in it. Thi&
was one of the artist's great sources of delight ; he never
let anything of this kind escape him. In the evening,
when the circumstance became a topic of conversation,
he said, " All nature is full of character and life, if men
would only give themselves the trouble to examine what
lay before them. But the mass of mankind were so over-
whelmed by pressing matters of personal interest, that
* The original of this poem by Holcroftis still among the family
papers of the Blake family.
DATS O'S THE TWEED SIXTY TEAKS AGO. 343
they never acquired the habit, even in an imperfect de-
gree, of paying attention to the instincts and habits of
animal existence. What pleasure would they not derive
from this source, if the gross blindness which envelopes
their minds were but even partially removed. Man is
evidently constituted to receive fifty times the amount of
pleasure which commonly falls to his lot ; but then his
mind must be awakened, his taste for refined enjoyments
must be cultivated, and his powers of observation
quickened by general intellectual culture. For my
part, I never go out of my own door, without seeing
something to interest me, and make me think. "What is
my case may, to a great extent, be the case of every one
possessed of the ordinary faculties of our nature."
" There I beg leave to differ from you, Mr. Bewick,"
remarked Sir Francis ; " there must be something which
we, and all mankind, call genius, which is quite apart
from, or rather, I would say, superadded to, the ordinary
faculties of the mind. What say you, Mr. Holcroft ? "
" It is a vexed question, Sir Francis," replied the
novelist ; " and I confess myself unable to solve it."
I frequently observed, in my social intercourse with
Bewick, when we were rambling alone in some sections
of the river, that his appreciations of the great and
sublime in nature were not equal to his rapturous delight
at some of her crotchety and grotesque productions. I
often spoke of the beauty of the hills around us, which
are really magnificent in their general outline ; but he
displayed no warmth of expression, or elevated feelings
of pleasure, at their contemplation. His eye was ever
on the look-out for the odd and singular; and long
344 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
habit, and the particular turn of his artistic genius, had
evidently deadened, to a certain extent, those intense
and lofty emotions which spring from beholding the bold
and general features of external nature. I often fancied,
had he been suddenly transferred to the Andes or the
Alps of Switzerland, he would not have been seen trans-
fixed with astonishment and wonder, but would have
sought for pleasure in scanning some whimsical block of
stone, or curiously-formed grotto or cavern. But we
ought not to complain, nor consider this one-eyed habit
as a serious defect. It is the price that must be paid
for all superlative excellence, whether in art, literature,
or science. This intense devotion to one side of nature
forms the constituent beauties of all Bewick's incom-
parable productions. "Without it, we never should have
had those admirable sketches which have immortalized
his name in his " Histories of Animals and Birds."
On our third and fourth days' excursion, we all went
up .the river from the neighbourhood of Broughton,
towards the Crook Inn. In this section of the Tweed,
extending over several miles, there is a succession of
beautiful streams, most admirably fitted for trouting
with fly. Salmon are not so commonly met with here,
as below Broughton. Most of us angled for trout, and
were very successful, with the exception of Sir Francis
Blake, who only caught three trout on the third, and six
on the fourth day ; but they were all much above the
common size. While we were enjoying our lunch on
the fourth day, the baronet said, rather quizzically,
"My want of success springs from a dream I had the
night before last. I dreamed that I had captured, after
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEARS AGO. 345
much trouble, several large fish, both of the salmon and
trout kind; and you know that the general rule laid
down by the interpreters of dreams is, that they always
go by contraries."
"That is the case," added Holcroft ; "and I have known
some remarkable verifications of the soundness of the
rule, if we may be allowed to apply the use of such a
thing as a rule to matters of such a dreamy and nebulous
character."
" So have I," said the baronet. " And, if I remember
right, there is a very striking interpretation of a dream
given in the Life of Archbishop Abbott. His mother
was near her confinement, and she dreamed that, though
a poor woman, if she could eat a pike, her son would be
a great man. She sought accordingly with great zeal,
till at last she saw one in some water that ran near her
house at G-uildford, she seized upon it, and immediately
devoured it. This circumstance being much talked
about, several persons of wealth and influence offered to
be sponsors to the child when born, and those who ren-
dered their services in this capacity kept him at school
and at the university till he arrived at distinction."
"Dreaming about fish," said Holcroft, "is mentioned
in some of our early dramas ; but in a very mysterious
and ambiguous way."
" Do you know, Mr. Holcroft," rejoined the baronet,
" I have sometimes wondered that dramatists have not
more frequently written plays or farces on angling, and
other out-door amusements, and sporting generally. I
think there is an opening in this direction, for these light
productions."
346 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
"Not to any great extent," remarked the novelist;
" such matters will not bear any great portion of dramatic
handling. But when angling was much practised in
Italy, during the middle ages, there were many theatrical
pieces written and acted, generally called 'Piscatory
Dramas,' founded on fishing incidents and adventures.
These productions always hinge on love affairs. One of
them, called the ' Pike Hunt/ was performed at Yenice,
and other Italian cities, with great eclat, and was for
many years a standard theatrical piece. A Prench
adaptation of it was performed at the city of Toulouse in
1555. The burden of the plot is chiefly this : A young
and highly-spirited knight sets out to capture pike, which
are in the private waters of some noble duke, but with
the real object of paying his addresses to his daughter,,
an only child, and an heiress of great fortune, whose
person and affections were vigilantly guarded by her
father. The piece opens with a descriptive sketch of
some of the most picturesque landscapes on the river
Arno ; the site of the ducal palace ; the heroic character
which this ducal family had for many centuries main-
tained ; and of the lovely graces of the heroine of the
play. The fisherman makes his approaches to the castle
by stealthy and well-considered movements. In a low
tone, near a grotto, he hums a love ditty. He obtains a
knowledge of all the chief localities of the outer grounds
of the place ; and by sheer dint of patience and resolu-
tion, obtained a brief interview with the object of his
adoration. These constitute the chief incidents in the
first act. In the second, the knight attempts another
visit, still under the cloak of pike-fishing ; but he scarcely
DAYS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEARS AGO. 3-17
gets within the boundaries of the ducal grounds, ere he
is seized by three men in ambush. He is taken before
the duke, with all his angling trappings, and subjected to
a severe examination. He displays great unwillingness
to confess what were suspected to be the real objects of
his visit to the neighbourhood. He is put under torture;
and after much suffering confesses his passion for the
young lady. He is then placed in confinement. This
terminates the second act. In the third and last part,
the father of the knight gets to hear of the situation of
his son, employs various devices to gain a personal inter-
view with him and the duke, and finally succeeds in both
objects. A full explanation is then given by the young
knight ; the fair lady is introduced, and openly and
warmly avows her passion ; and the happy pair are then
joined in wedlock. The entire plot of the piece is most
ingeniously worked out, and if accompanied with suitable
scenic representations, it must have been very interesting
to a popular audience, even in the middle ages."
"That is very interesting, Mr. Holcroffc," said Sir
Erancis ; " I never remember of hearing of these ' Pis-
catory Dramas ' before. I wonder," continued he, and
directing himself to the Reverend Mr. Goodman, "if
sermons have ever been illustrated from fishing scenes,
and incidents ? "
" Most assuredly," answered the Edinburgh divine.
" I have read several old discourses which make many
direct and ingenious allusions to our angling craft. I
well remember of reading, some years ago, a visitation
sermon, called ' The Eishers,' preached at Horncastle,
Lincolnshire, by William Worship, D.D., and printed in
348 OLD FACES IJST NEW MASKS.
London, in 1615, in which there was the following
passage : ' Some fish with Neroe's nets, of the richest
threds, and these are Golden-fishers ; some angle for the
Tributary Fish, with Twenty-pence in her mouth, and
these are Silver-fishers ; some cast their nets over a
Scule of Churches, and these are Steeple-fishers; some fish
with a Shining-shell in their net, and these are Flattering-
~fishers ; some fish for an Euge tuum et Belle, and these
are Vaine-glorious fishers ; some fish with a Poke-net for
a dinner, and these are Hungry-fishers ; some fish with a
net made of Strawes and Knots, and these are Passport-
fishers; some fish for Frogs, that may croke against
the Church, and these are Sysmaticalle-fishers ; some fish
above, beneath, side-slip, and these are TJbiquitave-fishers ;
some fish for a paire of unhackt Gallows, and these are
Seminarie-fishers ; some fish for Prince's Crowns and
Sceptres, and these are Belzebub-fishers ; some fish for
Soules, and these are Christian-fishers.' 1 "
"Excellent, excellent! Mr. Groodman," exclaimed Sir
Erancis. " That must have been a very curious and
interesting clerical address which this worthy bishop
gave to his brethren. Very different from the run of
such orations in our day."
"I remember another discourse on fishing," said Mr.
Goodman, "which was published in Holland about a
century ago. The text was taken from Hosea, ' Yea, the
fishes of the sea shall also be taken away.' The chief
object of the sermon was to show that, on account of the
wickedness of the Dutch nation, Providence would ulti-
mately deprive them of the benefits of the fishing-trade,
.and effectually cut off this lucrative source of the national
DAYS ON" THE TWEED SIXTY YEAES AGO. 349
resources. The author says : ' Your country has been
peculiarly constructed. You have mighty streams and
"branches of the sea full of fish, and you have long carried
on a most successful traffic in them to all parts of the
world. Your lordly salmon have been, and still are, the
admiration of all countries; and your trout, and other
finny inhabitants of the rivers and estuaries, which en-
circle your numerous cities, afford you the elements of a
cheap article of subsistence. Yet you have not, as a
nation, been thankful for all these mercies. Your s;ns
are numerous, and of a deep turpitude. Divine Provi-
dence will put a hook into your jaws, which will send
you stranded on the shores of national bankruptcy. The
inhabitants of the deep will raise up their voices against
you, and prove a lasting memorial of your degeneracy as
a people, and they will deride and mock you till the great
trumpet shall sound at the last day.' The preacher then
goes on to say: ' You know, my friends, what angling is,
you see it often practised before you. In the river which
flows by our own town, many fish are taken by artificial
means, such as baits of worms, and flies, and the like.
"Wary as the fish are, if the time be favourable, and the
proper season selected, the fish take these illusive baits
with great greediness. "When hooked, they turn round,
and feeling the destructive weapon in their jaws, try to
make their escape. Let us learn a lesson from this.
How many that pass their life in the gay and sparkling
scenes of pleasure, tempted by false appearances, eagerly
seize some fancied good, and find too late that it was a
deceptive image, which had a keen and hidden barb to
torture their souls, and make them acutely feel the
350 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
miseries of a wounded spirit. They are led captive
unto death, and are landed on the dark shores of
eternity.' I have another sermon on fishes, "but the
passages I have committed to memory are too long:
they will exhaust your patience."
Sir Francis : " Not at all. Go on, let us have
them."
"A sermon," said Mr. G-oodman, " was preached to
the fishes at the city of Maranhao, in South America, by
Antonio Vieyra, a Portuguese missionary, in 1654. The
text was, ' Ye are the salt of the earth.' I remember the
following passages :
" ' "What ! are we to preach to-day to fishes ? No
audience can be worse. At least fishes have two good
qualities as hearers they can hear, and they cannot speak.
One thing only might discourage the preacher that
fishes are a kind of race who cannot be converted. For
this cause I shall not speak to-day of heaven or hell ;
and thus this sermon will be less gloomy than mine
usually are considered.
" ' Fishes and brethren, you are to understand that
the salt like yourselves, the child of the seas has two
qualities which are experienced in yourselves: to pre-
serve that which is whole, and to keep that which might
corrupt from corruption ; the one figuratively praises
virtue, and the other reprehends vice. The great St.
Basil says, " We have not only to blame and to find fault
with fishes, but there are some qualities in them which
are worthy of our imitation."
" ' To begin, then, with your praises, fishes and bre-
thren. Of all living and sensitive creatures, you were
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEARS AGO. 351
the first which God created. He made you before the
fowls of the air ; He made you before the beasts of the
field ; He made you before man himself. Of all animals,
fishes are the most numerous and the largest. Por this
reason Moses, the chronicler of the creation, while he
does not mention the name of any other animal, names a
fish only God created great whales.
" * Great praise is due to you, O fishes, for the respect
and devotion which ye have had to the preachers of the
Word of God. Jonah went as a preacher of the same
God, and was on board of a ship when that great tempest
arose. How did men then treat him, and how did fishes
treat him ? Men cast him into the sea to be eaten by
fishes, and the fish which swallowed him carried him to
the shores of Nineveh that he might there preach
and save those men. Is it possible that fishes should
assist in the salvation of men, and that men should
cast into the sea the ministers of salvation ? Behold,
fishes, and avoid vainglory, how much better are ye
than men !
"'Most authors condemn you for your want of
docility, and for your extreme brutishness. On the con-
trary, I praise you for these. Hate conversation and
familiarity with men. God preserve you from them. If
the beasts of the earth and the birds of the air choose to
be man's familiars, let them do it, and welcome ; it is at
their own expense.
" ' But, before you depart, as you have heard your
praises, hear also that which I have to blame. It will
serve to make you ashamed, though you have not the
power of amendment. The first thing which does not
352 OLD FACES IN Js T EW MASKS.
edify me, fishes, is, that you eat one another a
great scandal in itself. You not only eat one another,
but the great eat the little ; if the contrary were the
case, the evil would be less. If the little eat the
great, one would suffice for many ; but as the great eat
the little, a hundred, nay, and a thousand, do not suffice
for one.
" ' Boasting is another of your sins. The bully-fish
excites at once my laughter and indignation. Is it pos-
sible that you, being such tiny fish, can be bullies of the
sea ? Tell me, why does not the sword-fish bully ?
Because, ordinarily, he that has a long sword has a
short tongue. It is a general rule that God will not
endure boasters. With the flying-fish I must also have a
word. Tell me, did not God make you fish ? Why,
then, do you set up to become birds ? God made the sea
for you, and the air for them ; content yourselves with
the sea, and with swimming, and do not attempt to fly ;
you'll be punished for your ambition. The fly-fish was
made by God a fish ; he desired to be a bird, and God
permits he should have the perils of a fish, and besides
that, those of a bird. From this example, fishes, keep
all of you this truth in mind He that desires more than
befits him, loses that which he desires, and that which
he has. He that can swim, and desires to fly, the time
will come when he shall neither fly nor swim. With
this remark I bid you farewell, my fishes. Praise God,
fishes, both small and great. Praise God, because He
has created you in such numbers ; because He has dis-
tinguished you in so many species ; because He has
invested you with such variety and beauty ; because He
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEAES AGO. 353
has furnished you with all the instruments necessary to
life ; because He has given you an element so large and
pure ; praise God who multiplies you ; and praise God,
finally, by serving and sustaining man, which is the end
to which He created you. Amen. As you are not
capable of grace nor of glory, so your sermon neither
ends with grace nor with glory.' "
"Besides sermons," said Mr. Holcroft, "there were
in Italy, soon after the revival of letters, many ingenious
and imaginative productions, instituting comparisons be-
tween angling with the rod and various ordinary transac-
tions of human life. Syrens and Tritons were invested
with fishing habits were made to expatiate on the beau-
ties of natural scenery, and to inculcate some moral
aphorism or common-sense duty. "We see this partially
exemplified in the ' Bizzari Faconde et Ingenoise Pisca-
torie' of Andrea Calmo, published in the ]atter section
of the sixteenth century."
" Thank you, gentlemen," observed Sir Francis ; "you
have enlightened us on many topics, of which I was my-
self, at least, entirely ignorant. "What excellent mem ories
you clergy have " (directing his attention to Mr. Good-
man) . " We see, in your persons and stated ministrations,
how this remarkable faculty becomes strengthened by
use, and completely pliant and obedient to the will. I
would give a good portion of my earthly treasure for so
valuable an acquisition."
"There is, Sir Francis," answered the divine, "a
great discrepancy among clergymen as to the powers of
the memory. Some have a ready but treacherous, others
a slow but retentive, memory. I have known the greatest
A A
354 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
possible difference among preachers. Some of my friends
can commit a written discourse, verbatim et literatim, in
two consecutive readings ; others, again, of as good
general talents, will have to labour four days in the
week, before the same task is accomplished."
"That is dreadful slavery, indeed," rejoined the
baronet. " We laymen have but an imperfect idea of the
labour of the clerical life, if what you state be a fact.
We have formed a notion that your duties become so
.much of mere habit, that we are far from realizing much,
if anything, approaching to mental exhaustion as falling
to your ministerial lot."
" That is just the case, Sir Erancis," said Mr.
G-oodman. " My friend here" (pointing to me), " before
I had the pleasure of joining your party on this fish-
ing excursion, was remarking the same thing, and I
did, in some partial degree, endeavour to point out to
him the many labours we had, especially in a large city,
which never meet the public eye, so as to stand fully out
for its appreciation. Most men think of clergymen
simply as preachers of sermons. They think their life
and labour are deep and subtle study through the week,
and utterance on Sundays. Others think of clergymen
simply in their relations to public enterprises and under-
takings of various kinds. They ought to lead here and
lead there. They ought to appear at this meeting and
at that. If a man does not preach ably, he is good for
nothing, some think. If he is not an active, bustling,
ubiquitous creature, then again others think he is worse
than useless. Now, for my own part, I wish every
minister were a good and able preacher ; and I likewise
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEARS AGO. 355
wish that every minister could lead his people, and, as
far as his influence allowed, the community at large, in
all well-considered progressive movements. But these
are not all his functions. These are the pullic aspects of
duty. His private work, his ten thousand services to
individuals, to the unfriended, the poor, the afflicted, the
perplexed ; the giving of counsel to the weak, encourage-
ment to the desponding ; the taking care of men one by
one, and in detail; as well as generic and wholesome
movements for communities and mankind, constitute
an immense proportion of his labour. It is that part
that takes the most out of him in time, strength, and
nerves. It is that which he feels more than study or
speaking. It is that of which his people have the
least conception. They naturally judge by what they
see, and they see that which is in the pulpit and on the
platform."
" I beg pardon, Mr. G-oodman," interrupted Sir
Francis, "but it does strike me that you Edinburgh
clergy have many advantages over your country cousins,
in possessing such a wide circle of intelligent acquaint-
ances, and so many sources of intellectual improvement
and gratification. These are fair compensating advan-
tages. And allow me, with all due deference, to remark,
that the picture which you have so forcibly drawn may
only be an extreme case, and such cases occur in all pro-
fessions and modes of life. It certainly has often
appeared to me that clerical life presented, in the capital
of Scotland, much that any man might rationally envy
so much of freedom, ease, respect, and wholesome influ-
ence, that clergymen seemed to glide through the world
356 OLD FACES Itf NEW MASKS.
without scarcely ever coming into actual contact with
what may be considered as the positively laborious and
painful."
" That is the common theory, I confess, Sir Francis ;
but theory and practice are often wide apart. Allow me to
give you a daily illustration of what falls to my own lot.
I rise at six o'clock. The family are emerging. Break-
fast is ready at half-past seven. I look for some religious
or useful publication. The bell rings. A man has
called thus early, for fear you might be out. You
despatch his business. Sitting down to breakfast, the
bell rings, and the servant says the applicant will wait.
But what pleasure can one have at a meal, with a man
up-stairs waiting for one, and the consciousness of its
hastening the coffee and the toast on their way ? Tou
run up. Can you marry a couple at so-and-so ? That
is settled. Prayers are had with the family. The bell
rings once, twice, three times. "When you rise, there are
five persons waiting for you in the front parlour. A
young man from the country wishes your name on his
circular for a school. Another wants a line of testi-
monial for a banker's office. A young woman is failing
in health by confinement to sewing ; does not know what
to do ; behind in rent ; cannot get away to the country ;
does not wish charity; only wishes some one to en-
able her to break away from a state of things that will
kill her in six months. Another calls to inquire after a
friend of whom he has lost sight. While you are attend-
ing to these the bell is active, and other persons take the
places of those that go. A poor woman wants to know
what she is to do with a son incurably lame. A kind
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY YEABS AGO. 357
woman calls in behalf of a boarder who is out of place,
desponding, and will throw himself away if he cannot get
some livelihood. Another calls to know if I will not
visit a poor family in Street. A good and honest-
looking man comes next; is out of work; has heard
'your riverince' is a kind man, etc. A stranger has
died, and a sexton desires a clergyman's services. Several
persons desire religious conversation. It is now eleven
o'clock. A moment's lull. You catch your hat, and run.
Perhaps you have forgotten some appointment. You
betake yourself to your study, not a little flurried and
jaded by the contrariety of things which you have been
considering. You return to dine. There are five or six
persons waiting for you. At tea you find others, also,
with their divers necessities. This is not overdrawn ;
and for months of the year it is far underdrawn. There
is no taxation comparable to an incessant various con-
versation with people for whom you must think, de-
vise, and for whose help you feel yourself often utterly
incompetent."
"We all allowed, sitting on a dry, green knoll by the
river-side, that our friend had made out his case, and he
was permitted to get clear off with flying colours. He
had scarcely finished his address, till our attention was
directed to a country lad crossing the river on a pair of
stilts. This roused Bewick, who had been lying in a
listless position smoking his pipe. He ran down to the
scene, and it was curious to watch the various expressions
of excitement the artist evinced as the lad was stammer-
ing through the stream on his pair of insecure and totter-
ing wooden legs. Every now and then, Bewick appeared
358 OLD FACES 1ST NEW MASKS.
in raptures, whenever the lad was like to lose his balance,
and made grotesque movements to preserve his equili-
brium against the conjoint force of the water and the
stony unevenness of the bed of the river. Bewick
brought us a capital sketch of the scene, executed in a
few minutes ; and it is one of the tail-pieces in his volumes
at this hour.
The last of our eight days' fishing was very successful.
All the party felt themselves gratified with success, both
in trout and salmon fishing. The villagers of Broughton
would miss us, for every evening we distributed our sur-
plus of fish, both of trout and salmon, among the working
families of the place. On the day our party broke up,
Mr. Goodman was to leave me to return to my own home
alone, he having some few weeks still at his disposal for
perambulating the rivers and lakes of his native country.
On leaving me, he said, " Six weeks more of country
scenes, and all this will be changed. My love of work
will come back again. I shall return to my post with
secret joy, and eager for labour. The old bell will be-
come musical. I shall feel disposed to listen to urge or
dissuade, to counsel or to direct to those who come. I
shall find the fountains of speech once more open. The
face of my congregation will again be inspiring, and
I feel satisfied I shall be worth a great deal more
to them, than if I had plodded on without cessation or
relaxation."
And now, turning towards my own home, I stand
and gaze for a short time upon those interesting moun-
tain shadows that are creeping down upon the plain. I
go without a single trout in my basket. Never mind ; I
DATS ON THE TWEED SIXTY TEAES AGO. 359
have fished in these mountain solitudes, and taken great
store of prey. At any rate, I am quite satisfied that often-
times the best part of trout-fishing is not the fishing.
How full has my ramble been of feelings struggling to
be thoughts, and of thoughts deliquescing into feelings.
But twilight is coming, and I have many miles to ride
home. Adieu to the Tweed and its banks !
360 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
LOBSTEES AND CEABS.
LOBSTEES.
THE Lobster has been known from the most remote times.
One French writer on the monumental inscriptions found
in the East, affirms that the form of the lobster is dis-
tinctly traced on one of those pillars of stone which are
generally ascribed to our forefathers before the Mood.
However this may be, certain it is, that the fish may
fairly enough lay claim to as remote an antiquity as falls
to the lot of any piscatory notoriety of the deep, whose
special capabilities have a direct reference to the gour-
mandizing propensities of man.
"What curious thoughts arise from the contemplation
of this fact, as stated by the above French authority !
Only think of Adam and his immediate descendants re-
galing themselves on boiled lobsters, or indulging in the
stimulating properties of its various forms of sauces !
Who knows the part lobsters may have taken in the
roystering and Bacchanalian revelries among the citizens
of the Plain how many convivial spirits were wont to
gather in the evenings around its savoury fumes pre-
paratory to whetting the appetite for more varied and
sensual indulgences, ere their gluttony and other sins
consigned them to Divine chastisement ? Speculations
crowd on the mind, in all shapes and forms, when we
think of the lobster feasts before the Mood.
LOBSTEKS AND CBABS. 361
Few of the cretaceous fish have been more generally
lauded by gastronomes, both ancient and modern, than
the lobster. We are told by a foreign writer on natural
history, that Alexander the Great was so enamoured of
this shell-dainty, that his courtiers always endeavoured
to allay his periodical paroxysms of passion, by furnish-
ing him with lobsters, either in the entire state, or as a
sauce to other viands.* A French cookery-book, pub-
lished a couple of centuries ago, tells us, upon rather
apocryphal authority, however, that Cicero made one of
his most effective political orations after he had dined off
stewed lobsters.
A Greek writer, who describes the gluttonous desires
of a spendthrift, ironically calls upon him to "use all
kinds of fish, such as do haunt the rocks, and with his
other dishes, use highly-seasoned lobster sauce." The
Bomans, too, were passionately fond of the fish. We are
told, at a supper given to the Emperor Yitellius by his
brother, there were, among other kinds of fish, eight
hundred lobsters. Another Roman emperor, Maximinus,
is affirmed to have devoured twenty large lobsters at one
sitting. There have been found, in the ruins of Hercu-
kneum, Roman household utensils with the figure of the
lobster represented on them.
The lobster was called 'Acra/cos (Astacus) by Aris-
totle, who describes many of its peculiarities recognized
by the naturalists of modern times.
Isidore of Seville mentions lobsters as having been a
primary luxury among the Latin Platonists of the Alex-
andrian School. Porphyry and Jamblicus ate them
* Bellon.
362 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
voraciously, and then, we suppose, turned to their mys-
tical and nebulous studies on the nature and origin of
things.
In a book published at London, in 1611, called
" Thinges that Be Olde and JSTewe," we have a statement
that the great Charlemagne was passionately fond of
lobsters; that he and his private secretary, Eginberd,
were in the habit of feasting almost every night on this
savoury fish ; and that the Emperor framed two capitu-
laries for regulating the catching and bringing to market
those shell-fish. A severe punishment was inflicted on
those fishmongers who presented stale lobsters for sale.
A writer on middle age history informs us that
lobsters were especial favourites with the members of the
Eomish Church. They formed a favourite article of
luxury at the Papal court for many centuries ; and
among private associations of the clergy they were equally
as highly esteemed. One Pope is said to have hastened
his death by their intemperate use. A celebrated general,
who commanded the troops of the Church before the
attack on Eegusa, refused to go to battle unless his
favourite dish of lobsters was served up to him.*
On the physical conformation of the lobster we shall
make a few observations.
The head and thorax of the lobster are blended into
one mass, covered with a dorsal plate of armour ; and the
abdominal viscera are protected by broad semi-belts of
the same consistency. The limbs are divided into three
sets. First, on each side of the mouth are five limbs,
called foot-jaws, furnished with tentacular appendages.
Belinda, " Opera," lib. vi.
LOBSTEBS AND CEABS. 363
These are employed in masticating its food. Next we
have five pairs of true limbs ; the first two are developed
into powerful and voluminous claws or pincers ; of which
one, sometimes the right, and sometimes the left, has its
edges finely dentated, to use as a saw in seizing, cutting,
and rending the animal's prey. The third class of limbs
are placed on the under surface of the tail. These are
termed false feet, and are arranged in five pairs, and are
bifid at the last joint. These false feet are not used for
locomotion, but for the purposes of procreation.
The most striking fact connected with the natural
history of this fish, is the power which it has of repro-
ducing its limbs lost by accident, and of the moulting
and reacquisition of its shells. It has been known,
when suddenly alarmed, to throw off one of its claws
with a jerk; and when a limb happens to receive an
injury, it is always broken off at the joint second to its
junction to the trunk. The change of armour in the
lobster is necessary, as without it the animal could not
increase in size, but must for ever remain stationary.
"When it is released from its hard encasement, the soft
portion of its frame pushes forth its growth with great
rapidity, and in due time receives a proper coat of
armour. "We are informed that " the lobster to the last
is ravenous and vigorous ; and instances have been known
in which lobsters, enticed by the bait, have entered into
the crab-traps, when on the fishermen commencing to
handle his prize, the animal has slipped away, leaving an
empty husk as the only reward of his labour."*
The lobster is considered an unclean eater, and is
* " Bot. and Zool. Mag." voL i. p. 171.
364 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
often called the scavenger of the seas. He is a fierce
marauder, pouncing on dead or living substance of all
kinds. He appears to have a powerful sense of smell,
although no distinct organs for this office have been
as yet detected. His carnivorous voracity leads to the
animal's destruction. Baited traps, made of strong
twigs, something like the common wire mouse-traps, are
lowered into the water, and marked by a buoy, and these
become the most effectual means of capturing this epi-
curean crustacean. In some parts of the coast of York-
shire, strong bag-nets are used. These are baited with
garbage, attractive to the lobster, who unsuspiciously
enters a prison from which he emerges only like a con^
demned felon, to suffer bonds by which his claws are
secured preparatory to being boiled alive.
No little fable has been connected with the size of
lobsters. Olaus Magnus (" Hist." lib. xxi. ch. 34) and
Gesner (" De Piscibus," lib. iv.) tell us, that in some
localities in the Indian Ocean, and likewise on the shores
of Norway, lobsters have been found twelve feet long
and six broad, and were often so pugnacious as to seize
mariners with their gigantic claws, and drag them along
into the deep to devour them. A similar account is given
of them by an Italian writer on natural history, who
affirms that he once saw a lobster which measured fifteen
feet, and which was of such a mischievous nature as to
require six men to kill it.
The lobster has been rather conspicuous in the history
of French cookery. In the sixteenth century, one Desa*
guilier became famous for his various methods of cooking
this fish, and particularly for his high-flavoured and
LOBSTEES AND CEABS. 365
delicious lobster-sauces. His house of entertainment
was much frequented by many notorious and fashionable
characters, who figured in Parisian society in his day.
Among the number of his constant customers were two
Catholic priests, whose morals and general deportment
were by no means exemplary, and who were passionately
fond of lobster suppers. They often prolonged their
visits at Desaguilier's till a late hour. It so happened,
however, that both these members of the Church died
suddenly within a week of each other. The circum-
stances of their death excited marked attention. A
report got abroad that they had been poisoned at one of
their lobster repasts. The public took up the rumour,
and the Church authorities followed in the wake. Our
poor lobster cook was seized and put to the rack, but
nothing could be extorted from him that bore upon his
guilt. Having in early life been one of the assistants in
the royal kitchen, he procured a friend at the palace, and
was forthwith set at liberty. But the shock to himself
and his temporal affairs proved too much for him, and
he died soon after his liberation from prison. But so
deeply had the poisoning notion penetrated the public
mind, that a pamphlet was written by one of the clergy,
attempting to show that Desaguilier's sudden death was
a judgment from heaven, for his having taken away the
life of the two ecclesiastics. A copy of this rare tract is
said to be still extant in the royal library of Lisbon.
Another unfortunate affair soon followed on the heels
of this. Two distinguished French generals, in the reign
of Louis XIII., had been spending the evening at the
house of a lady of rank and fashion, noted in Paris for
366 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
lobster repasts. Some angry words passed between the
two sons of Mars ; and from less to more, a duel was the
consequence. Both fell wounded; the one died about
an hour after receiving his wound ; and the other lingered
in great agony for three days. The lady at whose mansion
the unfortunate occurrence took place, was so deeply
affected by it, that she never afterwards gave any more
public entertainments. During the entire residue of her
life, her sensibility was so great at the bare sight ot a
lobster, that she uniformly went into a hysterical fit.*
"We are told that, in 1627, there was a tremendous
storm throughout the south-western part of Scotland.
The wind blew from the direction of the Isle of Man ;
and in the parish of Caerlaverock, the sea rose to such a
height that it drove the people from their houses, and
they had to run for their lives. There was likewise
thrown upon the beach an incredible number of lobsters,
which were seen sprawling about in all directions. One
of the cottagers, in the great hurry and confusion of the
moment, left her home, with a cradle in the house con-
taining a baby about eight months old. The sea had
thrown into the cradle three large lobsters, one of which
had fixed its claws on the foot of the child. The scream-
ing it set up, brought its mother to its aid, and was thus
providentially saved. t
A somewhat similar incident, relative to the influence
of sea-storms on lobsters, is mentioned in Buckland's
" Curiosities of Literature." " "When at Weymouth," says
the author, " many years ago, with my father, I recollect
* " Chroniques de Paris."
t " Wonders of Nature." London, 1632.
LOBSTERS AND CRABS. 367
his telling me a story of a large ship being wrecked off
the Isle of Portland, and that many persons were drowned.
Soon after the wreck, a great number of lobsters and
prawns were caught, and none of the Weyrnouth folks
would eat them, because they were supposed to have
eaten the bodies of the drowned people, which was very
possibly the case. The lobsters were, therefore, sent off
to London, for the benefit of those who did not know
their history."
"We read the following : " June 27, 1771 : Went to
see the ' Maid of Bath,' performed for the first time, at
the Haymarket Theatre. Saw there Lord Lyttleton, Sir
Joshua B/eynolds, Doctor Johnson, Garrick, and Oliver
Goldsmith. We all went out to have some refreshment.
The Eev. Mr. Home, afterwards John Home Tooke, met
us at the threshold of the play-house ; and learning our
errand, he proposed we should all go with him to sup
upon lobsters, cooked in a new fashion, with the richest
sauce, at a fish-house hard by. We all consented readily,
except Lord Lyttleton, who hung fire a little, but was
prevailed upon to come with us, and Home entertained
us with some of his most piquant jokes and Ion mots." *
Person was known for his low and grovelling habits,
as well as for his profound knowledge of Greek. He
addicted himself to the lowest company, spent his nights
and days in cider-cellars and pot-houses, where he had
the unlimited privilege of talking to whom he liked.
Among his favourite places of resort, was a cook-shop
where lobsters were done to perfection. This he made
a point of frequenting three nights every week, and
* " Specimens of a Diary." London. 1774.
368 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
regaling himself, to the full bent of his appetite, with
the delicious fish. He was in the habit of indulging in
fits of study, when he withdrew from the outer to con-
template the inner world. Still, during these states of
seclusion, he had his lobsters regularly served to him
within the walls of the university. He likewise had a
curious theory about his favourite dainty, that these
shell-fish were the purest in the ocean, and lived entirely
on water. He used to argue this point with great vehe-
mence when in his cups ; and it was probably from this
circumstance that the following lines were one day
written in chalk on his door :
" Dick Person eats a swagging great dinner,
And grows every day fatter and fatter ;
And yet the huge bulk of a sinner
Swears lobsters live solely on water.
" As no man can be found in the nation
Such nonsense to speak or to think,
It follows by fair demonstration,
That he philosophized in his drink."
There is a curious old song relative to the city of
Salisbury, in which lobsters are mentioned. This city
stands on the ruins of Old Sarum, which Leland, the
antiquary, thinks was a British fort before the arrival of
Julius Csesar. Dr. Pope, chaplain to Seth Ward, Bishop
of Salisbury in the reign of Charles II., was the author
of the following verses :
" Oh ! Salisbury people, give ear to my song,
And attention to my new ditty ;
For it is in praise of your river Avon,
Of your bishop, your church, and your city.
LOBSTERS AND CRABS. 369
"And your mayor and aldermen all of a row,
That govern that watered mead ;
First listen a while on your tiptoe,
Then carry this home and read.
" Old Sarum was built on a dry barren hill
A great many years ago ;
'Twas a Roman town, of strength and renown,
As its stately ruins show.
" Therein was a castle for men of arms,
And a cloister for men of the gown ;
There were friars and monks, and liars and punks,
Though not many whose name have come down.
" The soldiers and churchmen did not long agree ;
For the surly men with the hilts on,
Made sport at the gate witJi the priests that came late,
From eating the lobsters of Wilton."
In the middle of the last century there was a farce
performed in several of the minor theatres of London,
called "Lobster Sauce." Whether it was popular or
not we have not been able to ascertain, from any critical
writings on the piece ; but from its having been acted
at three different places, we may infer that it had a fair
portion of wit and humour. The scope of the farce
is to ridicule an old glutton of an alderman, who had
an only and handsome daughter, whom he was desirous
of marrying to a man of title. The old corporation
functionary prided himself on the mode of cooking lob-
sters, and especially for the piquant and savoury sauces
he prepared for the fish. The plot of the piece is car-
ried on by invitations to his friends, and particularly
to the younger portion of the aristocratic circles, to
regale themselves at his table. It cannot be doubted
B B
370 OLD PACES IN NEW MASKS.
but the dramatic sketch had a direct reference to some
notable alderman of the day, who had made himself
conspicuous by his love of lobsters and his personal
vanity and ambition.
Dr. Parr's love of hot boiled lobsters, with shrimp-
sauce, is well known. The Doctor once told a friend
that he wrote some of his finest pieces after a supper on
this dish. Puller, in his "History of Sussex," says that
Chichester was famous for its lobsters ; and that he
remembers with much pleasure the many convivial par-
ties he attended where the fish were served up in capital
fashion. Old Elwes, the miser, was well known for his
partiality to this dainty. He was in the habit of occa-
sionally attending Billingsgate Market, to purchase the
article at as cheap a rate as possible. At the famous
sederunt at whist which he had with the present Duke
of Northumberland's father, and two other gamblers,
which lasted for tliree days and three nights, without the
parties ever retiring to their bed-rooms, Elwes lived
almost solely on chocolate and lobsters. After paying
the balance of his losses, eight hundred pounds, he rang
the bell, and ordered the waiter to bring him the tail of
a good lobster, with which he set off to Harrow Common,
where he resided.
One of the most notable circumstances connected
with lobsters, is their frequent representation on medals
and coins, both ancient and modern ; and the use made
of this shell-fish, through this medium, for comical and
satirical purposes. There are several ancient coins of
Tyre, and other neighbouring cities, with the figure of
the lobster on the reverse side; but writers on coins
LOBSTERS AND CRABS. 371
have not been able to divine the purposes or meanings
of the emblem. Some of the earliest Greek coins have a
similar figure, without, however, any caricatural adjunct.
On some of the Roman and Spanish coins and medals,
we have the lobster depicted as a satirical emblem. One
Roman medal portrays the Emperor Nero riding on the
shell-fish, as a mark of derision ; and a Spanish silver
piece, supposed of the second century, displays some
general or other in a similar ridiculous attitude. Doubt-
less, the peculiar grotesqueness of the lobster's physiog-
nomy and movements naturally associate themselves
with comic and satirical conceptions, and serve to add
pungency to their graphic embodiment. This conclusion
is considerably strengthened by the well-known fact,
that many of the earliest Italian artists, who indulged in
the comic and whimsical, were in the constant habit of
keeping lobsters, both dead and alive, as well as other
animals, as objects suggestive of sketching comicalities
and grotesque combinations.
The Church of Rome has made free with the figure
of the lobster in some of its notable legends. On an old
fragment of painted glass, supposed to be about the
fourth century, and taken from one of the churches of
Toulouse, we have the Devil mounted on a lobster,
making after Joseph and Mary, in their flight into
Egypt, with all possible expedition. The comic effect of
the sketch is remarkably striking. In another legend,
particularly connected with the missionary doings of
Father Erancis Xavier, we have the following accoxint
from a Portuguese writer, called Eausto Rodriguez : .
" "We were at sea," says Rodriguez, " Eather Erancis,
372 OLD FACES IN JS'EW MASKS.
John Raposo, and myself, when there arose a tempest,
which alarmed all the mariners. Then the Father drew
from his bosom a little crucifix, which he always carried
about him ; and, leaning over the deck, intended to have
dipt it into the sea, but the crucifix dropt out of his
hand, and was carried off by the waves. This loss very
sensibly afflicted him, and he concealed not his sorrow
from us. The next morning we landed on the island
of Baranura. Prom the time the crucifix was lost to
that of our landing, it was near twenty-four hours,
during which we were in perpetual danger. Being on
shore, Father Francis and I walked along by the sea-side
towards the town of Tamalo, and had already walked
about five hundred paces, when both of us beheld, arising
out of the sea, a lobster-fish, which carried betwixt his
claws the same crucifix raised on high. I saw the lob-
ster-fish come directly to the Father, by whose side I
was, and stop before him. The Father, falling on his
knees, took his crucifix, after which the lobster-fish
returned to the sea. But the Father, still continuing in
the same humble posture, hugging and kissing the cruci-
fix, was half an hour praying with his hands across his
breast, and myself joining with him in thanksgiving to
G-od for so evident a miracle ; after which we arose, and
continued on our way."*
This fiction about the lobster, so prominent in Spa-
nish legendary lore, did not, however, escape the lash of
the graphic satirist. A small tract was written, with
* Dryden's " Life of Xavicr," book iii. In some English transla-
tions, the lobster-fish is termed crab-fish ; but this does not agree
with the sequel of the legend.
LOBSTERS AND CKABS. 373
numerous comic sketches, to show the folly of the mira-
cles ascribed to the fish. In the frontispiece there was a
representation of a priest riding on the back of a lobster,
with his head towards its tail ; while the expression of
his countenance was of that quizzical sort which indicated
a total imbclief of those stories which the Church had
long imposed on the credulity of the people. The author
of the tract was brought before the ecclesiastical autho-
rities, and sentenced to five years' imprisonment, in
addition to a tolerably heavy fine.
But this affair of the lobster and Father Xavier was
not entirely confined to the Romish Church ; it was
embodied in several sharp caricatures connected with the
reign of our James II. A medal was struck on the 20th
of June, 1688, on the obverse side of which were repre-
sented a ship of war bearing the French flag ; on the
shore a figure of a Jesuit, supposed to represent Father
Petre, seated astride on a lobster, holding in his arms
the young Prince of "Wales, who carries on his head a
little windmill ; with the motto, " Allans, mon Prince,
nous sommes en bon cliemin" On the reverse side of
the medal there is a shield, charged with a windmill, and
surmounted by the bonnet of a Jesuit; two rows of
beads or rosaries for an order or collar, within which are
the words, "Hony soit qui inal y pense." A lobster is
suspended from the collar as a badge.
About the same period there were several medals of
a like character struck off in Holland, in which the
lobster cuts a conspicuous figure. Upon one, called
" Arleqidn sur VHippogryplie^ a la croisade Lojoliste"
the lobster bears on its back a Jesuit, and carries a book
374 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
in each claw ; the young Prince of "Wales's head is deco-
rated with a windmill. The interpretation of all these
caricature medals was chiefly this: To indicate the
influence of the Jesuit Petre over the movements of
James II., an imputation was cast upon the legitimacy
of the young Prince of "Wales, chiefly occasioned by his
mother choosing St. Francis Xavier as her patron saint,
and her family constantly attributing the birth of the
child to the direct interference of this saint. The
lobster became in this manner symbolical of the imposi-
tions and frauds which the Jesuits were continually
perpetrating on the credulity of the people.
In the curious work by Sebastian Brandt, called
"ShiltiferaNavis" (" The Ship of Fools"), first published
'in 1494, there is a plate representing a fool, wearing cap
and bells, seated astride on the back of a lobster, with a
broken reed in his hand, and a pigeon flying past him as
he vacantly stares with wide and open mouth. Under-
neath are the following lines :
" DE PBEDESTINATIONE.
" Qui pretium poscit quod non meruisse videtur,
Atque super fragilem ponit sua brachia cannam
Illius in dorso cancrorum seniita stabit ;
Devolet inque suum rictum satis assa Columba."
Corsini, an Italian writer on medical subjects, who
flourished in the sixteenth century, maintains that lobster-
shells, finely-powdered, mixed with sweet oil, and placed
as a plaster on the chest, prove a sovereign remedy for
affections of the lungs and of the respiratory organs
generally. He says every kind and degree of bronchitis
LOBSTEES AND CRABS. 375
he invariably cured by the application of this plaster. A
German physician prescribed lobsters boiled with new
milk, and afterwards put through a strainer, as a most
healing and wholesome article of diet for weak and con-
sumptive patients. A quart of the mixture might be
safely taken during the twelve hours. The same autho-
rity recommends the solid meat of the fish, made very hot,
applied to the spies of the feet of persons troubled with
epilepsy and hysterical affections.
The modes of cooking this noble shell-fish are
numerous. Bobert May, in his " Accomplished Cook,"
printed for Nathaniel Brook, at the sign of the Angel,
Cornhill, 1660, calls the lobster the king of fisli. " The
king of them all is the lobster. What words can de-
scribe that unhappy crustacean ? It looks like a spread
eagle ; like a goblin born of dyspepsia and laudanum ;
like a fanciful flower-bed ; like a mythic tortoise with
gout in his fins, for it is split in halves, as is the wont
with this accomplished cook's fish ; it is sprawling and
floundering across the page in a wonderful fashion, not
after the manner of modern lobsters. The cut we refer
to heads a receipt for ' Baked lobsters to be eaten hot.'
It sounds appetizing enough.
" Being boiled cold, take the meat out of the shells,
and season it lightly with nutmeg, pepper, salt, cinnamon,
and ginger ; then lay it in a pie made according to this
form (our spread-eagle, or goblin), and lay it on some
dates in halves, large mace, sliced lemons, barberries,
yolks of hard eggs, and butter. Close it up and bake it ;
and, being baked, liquor it with white wine, butter,
and sugar, and ice it. On flesh days put marrow to it."
376 OLD FACES IN IfEW MASKS.
" ATE. e Slue Sonnets over the Border.'
" Take, take, Lobsters and lettuces ;
Mind that they send you the fish that you order;
Take, take, a decent-sized salad bowl,
One that's sufficiently deep in the border.
Cut into many a slice
All of the fish that's nice,
Place in the bowl with due neatness and order ;
Then hard-boil'd eggs you may
Add in a neat array
All round the bowl, just by way of a border.
" Take from the cellar of salt a proportion ;
Take from the castor both pepper and oil,
With vinegar, too but a moderate portion
Too much of acid your salad will spoil.
Mix them together ;
You need not mind whether
You blend them exactly in apple-pie order ;
But when you've stirr'd away,
Mix up the whole you may
All but the eggs, which are used as a border.
" Take, take, plenty of seasoning ;
A teaspoon of parsley that's chopp'd in small pieces.
Though, though, the point will bear reasoning,
A small taste of onion the flavour increases.
As the sauce curdle may,
Should it, the process stay ;
Patiently do it again in due order :
For, if you chance to spoil
Vinegar, eggs, and oil,
Still to proceed would on lunacy border." PUNCH.
LOBSTERS AND CEABS. 377
Lobsters have been the subject of some jokes. We
give the following :
"When does the Early Movement become very ob-
jectionable ? "When you have placed your finger in a
lobster's open claw.
CBTJEL. Miss Balsarine suggests that when men
break their hearts, it is all the same as when a lobster
breaks one of his claws another sprouts immediately,
and grows in its place.
"When is a lobster like a mortar ? "When it casts its
shell.
Lobsters were great favourites with Dean Swift, who
called them the princes of shell-fish. This fondness is
manifested in the anecdote which Pope mentions relative
to a visit which he and Gray paid to the Dean, who felt
himself obliged to ask them to supper. " If you had not
supped," said he, " I must have got something for you.
Let me see; what should I have had? A couple of
lobsters ; ah ! that would have done well."*
About thirty years ago, an affair came before the
Lord Mayor of London, respecting lobsters, which
created a good deal of merriment at the time. Some
"friends of humanity " appeared before the civic magis-
trate to complain of the practice of "pegging" the
lobsters. It was alleged that the necessity for this
heathenish custom arose from the quarrelsome pro-
pensities of the fish themselves ; for when removed from
their native element, and thrust indiscriminately into
baskets, squabbled and macerated one another in a fright-
ful manner. This judicial investigation gave rise to-,
* Spence's " Anecdotes."
378 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
several practical squibs ; one of which we shall here
transcribe, which is pointedly directed against the anti-
slavery advocates of the day :
" THE NEGRO'S DYING BLUSH.
" See the flames with fury glowing !
Hark the water hissing hot !
Bubbling high and overflowing,
Bevelling in the lobster's lot.
List his first and latest screeching,
As his thoughts to madness rush,
Mercy from the Fates beseeching,
Boiling with unconscious blush.
" Is there, mighty Jove ! a lady,
Lovely, gentle, fair, and young,
Who could, while thus his black grows fady,
And his deep'ning blush more strong,
Endure the thought of Lobster-salad ?
Or dream of ord'ring Lobster-sauce ?
!N"o! rather would she write a ballad,
Lamenting sore that Lobster's loss.
" Sweet, indeed, are Lobster-patties !
Passing sweet is Lobster-soup !
But let me ask you, whether that is
Cause why we should Lobsters coop
In caldrons, while they're live and kicking,
Arrayed in native suits of black,
Which they must change to tempt your picking,
And redden o'er from breast to back ?
" Oh, ye youth of both the sexes !
Bethink you how a Lobster boiling
Abhors the bath in which he vexes
> His tortured limbs with bootless toiling !
And when people laud his colour,
With beating heart and shaking head,
Inform them how, 'mid frantic dolour,
He dying gained that lively red !"
LOBSTERS AND CRABS. 379
CRABS.
Crabs, it is but reasonable to think, must have been one
of the earliest among shell-fish known to mankind ; from
the circumstance, perhaps, of its being fixed upon as one
of the signs of the zodiac. This figurative application of
the animal must refer a knowledge of it to a very remote
period, and to have made it familiar to all to whom
astronomical science, even in its rudest form, was at all
cultivated.
The crab must have been known to the ancient As-
syrians. There are representations of it on the slabs of
the Kouyunjik Gallery in the British Museum. "We
likewise find the figure of the shell-fish on many very
ancient Eastern coins ; but for what purpose it was there
represented, writers on numismatology are not agreed.
In the Greek notices of the sophists or rhetoricians
of Athens, we find the crab mentioned. Among the
things which this class of public teachers attempted to
learn the Athenians was to show, by reasoning, " That
a man had a father that he had no father that a dog
was his father that his father was everybody's father
that his mother had a family equally numerous, in which
horses, pigs, and crab-fish were all common brethren."*
Athenseus, in some comments on the "Miser" of Theog-
netus, says, "While Ulpian was continuing to talk in
this way, the servants came in bearing on dishes some crabs
bigger than the orator Callimedon, who, because he was so
fond of this food, was himself called the Crab." Alexis, a
* See Mitchell's " Aristophanes."
380 OLD FACES TS NEW MASKS.
comic poet, hands Callimedon down to posterity in this
fashion :
"It has been voted by fish-sellers
To raise a brazen statue to Callimedon,
At the Panathenaic festival,
In the midst of the fish-market, and the statue
Shall in his hand hold a roasted crab,
As being the sole portion of their trade,
Which other men neglect and seek to crush."
" But," again says Athenseus, " the taste of the crab
is one which many people have been very much devoted
to, as may be shown by several passages in different
comedies, but at present Aristophanes will suffice, who
speaks as follows :
" A. Has any fish been bought ? A cuttle-fish,
Or a broad squill, or else a polypus,
Or roasted mullet, or perhaps some beetroot ;
" B. Indeed, there was not.
" A. Or a roach or dace ?
"B. Nothing of such sort.
" A. Was there no black-pudding,
No tripe, nor sausage, nor boar's liver fried,
No honeycomb, no paunch of pig, no eel,
No mighty crab, with which you might
Recruit the strength of women wearied with long toil ?"
"By broad squills," says the same writer, "he must
have meant what we call astaci, a kind of crab which
Philyllius mentions in his "Cities."' Athenseus adds,
" that the race of crabs is very long-lived."
Pliny tells us that crabs are long-lived, and have
eight feet, all bent obliquely. In the female the first
foot is double, and in the male single ; besides which, the
LOBSTEES AND CEABS. 381
animal lias two claws with indented pincers. Sometimes
they assemble in large bodies ; but as they are unable to
cross the mouth of the Euxine, they turn back again, and
go round by the land, and the road by which they travel is
to be seen all beaten down with their footmarks.
Crabs, when alarmed (says the same historian), go
backwards as swiftly as when moving forwards. They
fight with one another like rams, butt at each other with
their horns. They have a mode of curing themselves of
the bite of serpents. It is said that while the sun is
passing through the sign of Cancer, the dead bodies of the
crabs, which are lying thrown on the sea-shore, are trans-
formed into serpents.
Pliny likewise tells us that the common stag, when
wounded by a species of spider, or any other noxious
insect, cures itself by eating crabs. The wild boar does
the same; more particularly by those crabs which are
thrown up by the sea.* This notion is confirmed by
Plutarch, who speaks, however, of river-crabs.
Ovid, in his " Metamorphoses" (bookxv.), says, "If you
take care of the bending claws of the crab of the sea-
shore, and bury the rest in the earth, a scorpion will
come forth from the part so buried, and will threaten
with its crooked tail."
Crabs are often spoken of in the books on natural
history written in the middle ages, in which there are
likewise many curious and grotesque representations.
One we have seen, wherein a crab is holding a conversa-
tion with the Devil, and very coolly asking him to place
his tail into one of his claws.
* Book viii. ch. 4.
382 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
There are widely difierent and strange peculiarities
among the crabs. Those of the "West Indies live chiefly
on land, visiting the sea only at given periods, for the
deposition of their eggs. These carrying in their gill-
chambers sufficient water for the purpose of respiration,
Hve in burrows, and traverse considerable tracts of land
in the performance of their migratory excursions. Of
this class, that called the violet crab is considered the
most exquisite delicacy.
Those which Cuvier calls the Burrowing Crab proper,
are thus described by that able naturalist : " The animal
closes the entrance of its burrow, which is situated near
the margin of the sea, or in marshy grounds, with its
largest claw. These burrows are cylindrical, oblique,
very deep, and very close to each other ; but generally
each burrow is the exclusive habitation of a single in-
dividual. The habit which these crabs have of holding
their- large claw elevated in advance of the body, as if
making a sign of beckoning to some one, has obtained
for them the name of Calling Crabs. There is a species
observed by Mr. Box in South Carolina, which passes the
three months of the winter in its retreat, without oncfr
quitting it, and which never goes to the sea except at the
epoch of egg-laying."
The following curious statement relative to crabs has
recently made its appearance from China : " When our
party of six had seated themselves at the centre table,
my attention was attracted by a covered dish, something
unusual at a Chinese meal. On a certain signal, the
cover was removed, and presently the face of the table
was covered with juvenile crabs, which made their exodus
LOBSTERS AND CEABS. 383
from the dish with all possible rapidity. The crablets
had been thrown into a plate of vinegar, just as the com-
pany sat down ; such an immersion making them more
brisk and lively than usual. But the sprightly sport of
the infant crabs was soon checked by each guest seizing
which he could, and swallowing the whole morsel without
ceremony. Determined to do as the Chinese did, I tried
this novelty also with me with two. I succeeded, find-
ing the shell soft and gelatinous ; for they were tiny
creatures, not more than a day or two old. But I was
compelled to give in to the third, which had resolved to
take vengeance, and gave my lower lip a nip, so sharp
und severe as to make me relinquish my hold, and likewise
desist from any further experiment of this nature."
The Lazy Crab is a large and very beautiful one. The
back is generally full of small knobs, of a pale scarlet
colour ; guarded here and there, but especially about the
edges of the back shell, with short black prickles. It
has four small legs on each side. These are covered with
a short brownish hair or pile, and are in the male crab
likewise defended by prickles ; the last joint of each leg
ending in a sharp point. The two great claws, from their
junction with the extremities of the body, are often ten
inches long. The very tips of the two meeting claws,
with which it holds its prey, differ remarkably from all
other crabs, by their great breadth, as well as by their
several indentations, which, when they close together,
fall as regularly into their sockets as the opposite sides of
a pair of nippers.
A Norwegian writer tells us : " I now come to the
third, and, without doubt, the greatest marine wonder in
384 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
the world, called the Jcraken, or Jcraxen, or, as some have
it, the crab, which name seems to answer best to the
appearance of this round, flat animal, fall of arms and
"branches. Our fishermen relate (all with one story, and
without the slightest contradiction) that when in warm
summer days they have rowed out a number of leagues
to sea, where usually there is a depth of from eighty to
one hundred fathoms, they sometimes find only thirty,
twenty, or less, and are then certain of taking fish in
the greatest abundance. This is a sign that the
Tcralcen is under them, and they lose no time to profit
by the circumstance, so that sometimes a score or more
boats are assembled together within a moderate circum-
ference.
" They have only to take the precaution of ascertaining,
by means of their leads, whether the depth remains the
same or diminishes. In the latter case, not a moment must
be lost. They give over fishing, and row away with all
their might until they get into the usual depth. There,
resting on their oars, in a short time they see this un-
paralleled monster rise to the surface ; that is, not its
whole body (which, probably, no human eye ever yet
beheld, except in its young), but merely the upper
portion of it, which, according to eye-witnesses, is about
a mile and a-Jialf in circumference, many say more, but I
take the least for surety. This, at first, has the appear-
ance of a reef of low rocks covered with something which
resembles floating sea- weed. At length appear a number
of shining points and jags, which are thicker the higher
they are seen above the surface. Sometimes they are as
high as a moderate ship's mast, but strong enough to drag
LOBSTERS AND CRABS. 385
the largest ship of war. After a short time the Tcraken
begins to sink, when the danger is as great as before, for
the whirlpool caused by the descent of its body is so
powerful that it draws in everything near it, like the
Maelstrom. Prom the long observation of fishermen,
it appears that this animal feeds for several months
together, and during the succeeding months evacuates its
food in a substance resembling mud, which discolours the
water and attracts immense shoals of fish of every
species ; and when a sufficient number are assembled
over him, he swallows up his thoughtless guests, who in
their turn serve as a trap for others of a similar taste.
* * * * As it is not to be expected that an occasion
should speedily occur of examining this terrible monster
alive, it is the more to be regretted that no one profited
by one rare opportunity. In the year 1684, a kraken,
probably young and heedless, came into TJlvangen Fjord,
in the province of Bergen, and stretching out its feelers,
which it seems to employ as a snail does its horns, they
got entangled in some trees near the Fjord, and in the
crevices of the rocks, so that it could not get loose again,
but died and rotted."*
Shakspeare has several allusions to crabs :
" In very likeness of a roasted crab." Mid. N. D.
" See a crab ! why, here's no crab." Taming of the Shrew.
" As a crab does to a crab." Lear.
" If, like a crab, you could go backward." Hamlet.
Charles V. of Spain was passionately fond of crabs,
which he had cooked in a variety of ways to his own
* Bishop Pontoppidan's " Natural History of Norway."
c c
386 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
fancy. In a book published at Barcelona in 1650, the
general mode of this royal crab cookery is given at full
length. We shall give a brief outline of it.
The Emperor's method of having a crab served up
cold was the following : A good boiled crab was selected,
as heavy as could be found, with the joints of the legs
stiff. The legs and claws being broken off, were cracked,
the meat extracted, and minced small. The body of the
crab was taken out and mixed with the produce of the
claws, with mustard, vinegar, and ground garlic. A
certain proportion of salt and pepper was used. The
dish was garnished with several kinds of aromatic plants ;
and the whole used in conjunction with a portion of oils
from the Indies.
"When his majesty fancied hot crabs they were com-
monly cooked in this fashion : After boiling, the meat
was taken from the claws, cut very small, and mixed with
eggs and cream, to which were added portions of butter
and ground garlic. Flour or fine bread-crumbs were then
laid over the top, with pepper, mustard, and salt. The
whole was placed in a dish and baked a certain length of
time. This was commonly Charles's supper, when not
actively engaged in his military duties.
Another royal method resembled our mode of scollop-
ing the fish. Its contents were extracted, and mixed with
bread and various kinds of spices, and then submitted to
the process of baking. Grarlic, eggs, and cream were
used after this process had been finished. Sometimes a
species of sweet wine was thrown over the whole.
One of the Emperors of Germany had likewise a
strong liking for crabs. He had regularly appointed
LOBSTEES AND CRABS. 387
days when these fish were to form a conspicuous item in
the royal bill of fare to his courtiers. It became a
common remark that his majesty was always more than
usually bland and facetious on these occasions.
Taylor, the water-poet, in his curious satire on
" Coaches," published in 1623, says that when William
Boonen, a Dutchman, brought a coach from Holland, the
people of London were quite confounded at its singular
make and use. " Some said it was a crab-shell from
China, and some imagined it to be one of the pagan
temples in which the cannibals adored the Devil ; more-
over, it makes people imitate sea-crabs in being drawn
side-ways, as they are when they sit in the boot of the
coach."
Tim Bright highly extols crabs in his treatise on
" Melancholy." He thinks they are exhilarating to the
animal spirits. The same opinion is entertained by a
distinguished Italian physician, who invariably ordered
these fish to be daily used in all cases of physical and
mental debility.
Legendary lore touches upon the crab, as upon almost
every other material object of animal life, which has any-
thing conspicuous about it. It is said, those who dream
of crabs will have ill-natured husbands. When Dutch-
men dream of this fish, they think their mud walls and
dikes are in danger of being washed away by the ocean,
and themselves swallowed up in oblivion. In some dis-
tricts of Ireland, fishermen refuse to put to sea if they
have on the previous night dreamt of crabs. The gipsies
about Blackheath, who tell the fortunes of the Cockneys,
say that to dream of the shell-fish is indicative of
388 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
approaching lawsuits and family bickerings. The Lap-
landers are very superstitious about crabs, and consider
them unwelcome heralds of another world. In several
other sections of the North of Europe, it is considered
very melancholy to dream of this shell-fish ; more parti-
cularly at or about the full moon. In some districts,
the dreaming of crabs is considered a certain sign of a
woman giving birth to twins.
Many similar notions prevail among almost all nations.
"We have a story, of Scandinavian origin, which relates
that two princesses were walking one day by the sea-
shore,- and were seized by an immense crab equal in
bulk to two large oxen and carried into the sea on its
back. After an absence of several days they were again
brought back to land, and restored in perfect health to
their friends. They gave an account of having been
taken into remote caverns and bays of ice, traversed
from place to place, fed upon roasted mussels, and sup-
plied with drink from the running ice-springs of the
mountains and rocks along the sea-coast. And we find
an equally absurd story among the country people in the
north of England and the south of Scotland. Thomas
Boston, of Ettrick, was the ornament of the Scottish
pulpit, and one of the most popular writers on theology
that the Church of Scotland has ever produced. He
flourished about one hundred and fifty years ago.
Numerous are the marvellous stories told about his
personal conflict with the Devil. There is one to the
effect that the worthy minister, on the morning of a
sacramental Sabbath, was visited by his Satanic majesty
in the shape of an immense crab. It was seen walking
LOBSTERS AND CEABS. 389
out from the river Ettrick, which flows hard by, pro-
ceeded up the aisle of the church, and placed itself
opposite the pulpit. At the word of reproof from the
minister, it flew out of the open window in the shape
of a flame of fire. Hundreds of sensible and well-
meaning people may be found at the present moment
ready to substantiate the truth of this strange fancy.
In ecclesiastical legends we find the crab occupying
a conspicuous position. It is related of some religious
solitaries living on the borders of Libya, not far from
Cyrene, the capital of Pentapolis, and about seven miles
from the Mediterranean Sea, that they had a pool or
pond attached to their rude dwelling, in which they kept
a number of crabs for their amusement. By long con-
verse these shell-fish became not only cognizant of these
holy men, but actually gave indications of a degree of
intelligence highly pleasing and interesting. It is said
that one large crab, that had been in the pond for ten
years, was taught to speak, and could actually repeat the
Lord's Prayer without making a single blunder! *
The history of Spanish painting contains many curious
legends connected with the practice of the art. The
ecclesiastical authorities in Spain were systematically
opposed to the employment of the graphic sketching of
objects of a grotesque or caricatural nature. These,
they thought, had a direct tendency to weaken the pious
feelings of the people, and to unsettle their faith. There
was one exception to this stringent rule, namely, that
artists whose genius lay in the comic and satirical, might
freely ridicule the Devil ; and the more grotesque and
* " Le Miroir des Keligieux." Paris, folio, 1585.
390 OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS.
whimsical they represented him, the greater was their
artistic merits in the eyes of the Church. One painter,
called Damianus Rodriguez de Vargas, gained great
applause by representing his Satanic majesty as a crab.
The picture was a large one, and emblematically figured
the crab moving backward from all that was holy, ortho-
dox, and praiseworthy. One of the religious institutions
of Salamanca granted a pension to the artist for life, for
the wit and satire he had so cleverly portrayed in this
graphic production.
We take the following from an American newspaper:
" Nantucket, an island of Massachusetts, famous for its
sea-serpent, now sends us an anecdote of crabs. An old
lady was alarmed at night by the stealthy steps of ghosts
or burglars crawling across the floor of the room above.
Soon they reached the stairs, with a heavy clamp, clamp,
clamp. She thought of Mrs. Crowe and the * Night Side
of Nature,' and fell into a profuse sweat. She mustered
up her courage, however, and went to the door, lamp
in hand; when, to her astonishment, she discovered a
procession of crabs on the stairs. Little Tommy had
carried a lot of crabs to the attic on the previous
day."
No animal has given birth to a greater number of
more bitter, difficult, and vituperative words in the
English language than the crab. We shall notice a
few :
" Ne drede hem not, doth hem no reverence,
For though thin husboned armed be in maille,
The armes of thy crabbed elequence
Shal perce his brest." CHAUCER. The Clerlces's Tale.
LOBSTERS AND CRABS. 391
" Such as with oten cakes in poor estate abides,
Of care haue they no cure, the crab with myrth
they rost." Vncertaine Authors.
" And with the sun doth fold againe ;
Then logging home betime,
He turns a crab, or turns around,
Or sings some merrie ryme."
WAENER. Albion's England.
" He (Appius Claudius) kept the same sower countenance still, the
very same forwardnesse and cradbedness of visage, the same spirit of
boldness in his appologie and defence." HOLLAND'S Livius.
" As when the hungry crab in India's main."
The Scribleriad.
" We might have received with veneration mixed with awe, from
an old, severe, crabbed Cato." BURKE.
" The mathematics and their crabbedness and intricacy could not
deter you." HOWELL.
" Your crabbed rogues that read Lucretius." PEIOR.
THE END.
Thomas Harrild, Printer, Salisbury Square, Fleet Street, London.
UNIVEESTTY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY,
BERKELEY
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE
STAMPED BELOW
Books not returned on time are subject to a fine of
50c per volume after the third day overdue, increasing
to $1.00 per volume after the sixth day. Books not in
demand may be renewed if application is made before
expiration of loan period.
AUG 4 1824
15m-4,'24
U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES
248112.