GIFT OF 
 
 Twl TQC; F 
 
OLD FACES IN NEW MASKS. 
 
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. 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. 
 
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