THE DOCTOR, a. <5_ JThere is a kind of physiognomy In the titles of books no legs than in the faces of men, by which a skilful observer will as well know what to expect from the one as the other. BUTLER'S REMAINS. tOMDoir PBIHTZD BY SPOTTISWOODB AKD CO. SUW-StlthSL E .Had! del ^Sftdfa 'I I 3M (DMIE pr THE DOCTOR, &c. BY THE LATB BDITKU BY HIS SON-IN-LAW, JOHN WOOD WARTER, B.D. IN ONE VOLUME. LONDON : LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1865. 'THOUGH THOi: HAbST MAPE A GENERAL SURVEY OP ALL THE BEST OP MEN'S BEST KNOWLEDGES, AND KNEW 80 MUCH AS EVER LEARNING KNEW; VET DID IT MAKE THEB TRUST THYSELF THE LESS. AND LESS PRESUME. AND YET WHEN BEING MOV*I> IN PHIVITB TALK TO SPEAK ; THOU DIDST BEWRAY HOW FULLY FRAUGHT THOU WERT WITHIN; AND PROV'o THAT THOU DIDST KNOW WHATEVER WIT COULD SAV. WHICH SHOW'D THOU HADST NOT BOOKS AS MANY HAVE. POR OSTENTATION, BUT FOR USE J AND THAT THY BOUNTEOUS MEMORY WAS SUCH AS GAVK A LARGE REVENUE OP THE GOOD IT OAT. WITNESS IO MANY VOLUMES, WHERETO THOU HAST SET THY NOTES UNDER THY LEARNED HAND. AND MARK'D THEM WITH THAT PRINT, AS WILL SHOW HO^ THE POINT OP THY CONCEIVING THOUGHTS DID STAND , THAT NONE WOULD THINK, IP ALL THY LIFE HAD BE8N fURN'D INTO LEISURE, THOU COULDST HAVE ATTAIN'P MUCH OF TIMB, TO HAVE PERUS'D AND SEEN SO MANY VOLUMES THAT MUCH CONTAIN'D." DANIEL. Funeral Poem upon the Death oj the late Noble Earl of Devonshire. " WELL-LANGUAGED DANIEL," as Browne called him in his " Britannia's Pastorals," was one of Southey's favourite poets. Let the above extract speak of the Author of " THE DOCTOR, &c." THE EDITOR. EDITOR'S PREFACE. THE intrinsic beauty, and, what is of more consequence, the moral and religious value of the sentiments contained in " THE DOCTOR, &c.," has called for a new and popular Edition of that work. It has fallen to my lot, otherwise laboriously occupied, to edit it. What is done, ought to be done well, whether it be so or not, competent readers will be the best judges. Not unversed in books, and familiar with ancient and modern languages as toward circumstances have made me, I trust the endeavour has not been unattained, though some errors ... Quas out incuriafud.it Aut humanaparum cavit natura will unavoidably be detected and charitably overlooked. Five out of six, it has been said by those quite able to form an unbiassed and judicious opinion, were assured as to the authorship of "THE DOCTOR, &c." It is now well known that the lamented Southey played with its pages as he did with his kittens, as a relaxation from his bread-earning and every- day pursuits. It is not too much to say that no one but Southey could have written it. Line upon line, page upon page, shows the man that feared God, and honoured the King, and loved his Country, and despised all political tinkers, whether in matters ecclesiastical or civiL The extract following from a letter to Miss Caroline Bowles, the present no less talented than amiable and excellent Mrs. Southey, and my much valued friend, contains the most interesting particulars relative to the work. It is dated, Keswick, June, 1835. " Miss B., who then lived in the next house, was the Bhow Begum. That whole chapter " (that is, Chapter VII. A. I.) " is from the life, and the Book grew out of that night's conversation, exactly as there related. But to go farther back with its history. There is a story of Dr. D. D. of D., and of his horse Nobs, which has, I believe, been made into a Hawker's Book. Coleridge used to tell it, and the humour lay in making it as long- winded as possible ; it suited, however, my long-windedness better than his, and 1 was frequently called upon for it by those who enjoyed it, and sometimes I volunteered it, when Coleridge protested against its being told. EDITOR'S PREFACE. As you may suppose, it was never twice told alike, except as to names, and the leading features. "With something of Tristram Shandy, something of Rabelais, and more of Montaigne, and a little of old Burton, the predomi- nant characteristic is still my own." Though railroads outrun literature, and Mammon haa more votaries than religious and useful learning, it says something for us that a book such as " THE DOCTOR, &c." should again be called for, the more so when it is considered that its readers, after all, must be rather fit and few than many. But, well said Walter Savage Landor, " Southey was the first, and remains to the present day almost the only critic, who was constantly guided by truth and conscience. Added to which, his judgment, especially in works of imagination, was incomparably more correct than any other man's." It only remains to add that the " AUTHOR OF THE DOCTOR, &c., IN HIS STUDY," and the " SKETCH OF THE BUST," are by Nash, "Edward Nash," (as he is described in the Colloquies, i. 238.) " My dear, kind-hearted friend and fellow traveller, whose death has darkened some of the blithest recollections of my latter life." Both of these are excellent in their way, but the engraving of the Bust, in the eyes of myself, and Southey 's eldest daughter, Edith May Warter, is perfect. " THE VIEW OF KESWICK FROM THE STUDY WINDOW " is by Mrs. Southey, and it is a view not to be forgotten. For the few foot-notes not marked R. S., the Editor is responsible. I had laid down the pen, when these words of old Fuller (an especial favourite of Southey's) flashed across my mind. Reader! " No DISCREET PERSON WILL CONCLUDE OUR FAITH THE WORSE, BECAUSE OUR CHARITY IS THE MORE." Apply them as thou readest ! JOHN WOOD WARTER. VICARAGE HOUSE, WEST TABUING, SUSSEX, May 1 5th, 1848 PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. Now they that like it may : the rest may chuse. G. WITHER. Je veux A face descouverte qu'on sfache quejefay lefol. Et pourqiioy ne me ie sera-t-il permis, si le grand Solon dans Athtnes, nedouta de lefairepour apporter un grand bien a sa Republique f La Republiqne dont fay charge, est ce petit monde que Dieu a estably en may ; pour la conservation duqucl je ne scay meilleur mot/en que de trompet tries afflictions par quelques honnestes jeux f esprit ; appellez-les bouffimneries si ainsi le voulez. PASQDIER. If you are so bold as to venture a blowing-up, look closely co it ! for the plot lies deadly deep, and 'twill be between your legs before you be aware of it. But of all things have a care of putting it in your pocket, for fear it takes fire, or runs away with your breeches. And if you can shun it, read it not when you are alone ; or at least not late in the evening ; for the venom is strongest about mid- night, and seizes most violently upon the head when the party is by himself. I shall not tell you one line of what is in it ; and therefore consider well what you do, and look to yourself. But if you be resolved to meddle, be sure have a care of catching cold, and keep to a moderate diet ; for there is danger and jeopardy in it besides. DR. EACHARD. For those faults of barbarism, Doric dialect, extempo- ranean stile, tautologies, apish imitation, a rhapsody of rags gathered together from several dung-hills, excre- ments of authors, toyes and fopperies, confusedly tumbled out, without art, invention, judgement, wit, learning, harsh, raw, rude, phantasticall, absurd, insolent, indis- creet, ill-composed, indigested, vain, scurrile, idle, dull, and dry: I confess all; ('tis partly affected;) thou canst not think worse of me than I do of myself. 'Tis not worth the reading ! I yield it. I desire thee not to lose time in perusing so vain a subject. I should be peradven- ture loth myself to read him or thee so writing ; 'tis not upercE pntium. All I say is this, that I have precedents for it. BURTON. A foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolu- tions ; these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb ofpia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of the occasion. But the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am thankful for it. LOVE'S LABOUR LOST. If the world like it not, so much the worse for them. COWPKR. un boschetto; Donne per quello giuanjior cogti'endo. Con dilt'tto, co' qttfl, co' quel dicendo ; Eccolo, eccol! . . che a? efiordaliso! Va la per le viole ; Piit cola per le rose, cole, cole, Vaghe amorose. O me, che' Iprun mipunge! Quell" ultra me v' aggiunge. V, it, o, ch' e quel che salta f Un grillo ! un grillo ! Venite qua, correte, Ramponzoli cogliete ; E' non con essi ! Si, ion ! colei o colei Vien qua, vien qua perfunghi, un micolino Piu cold, piii cola per sermollino. UGOIINO UBALDINI or FRANCO SACCHETTI. If the particulars seem too large or to be over tediously insisted upon, consider in how many impertinent and trifling discourses and actions the best of us do consume far more hours than the perusal of this requires minutes, and yet think it no tediousness : and let them call to mind how many volumes this age imprints and reads which are foolish if not wicked. Let them be persuaded likewise, that I have not written this for those who have no need thereof, or to shew my own wit or compendiousness but to instruct the ignorant ; to whom 1 should more often speak in vain, if I did not otherwhile by repetitions and circumlocutions, stir up their affections, and beat into their understandings the. knowledge and feeling, of those things which I deliver. Yea, let them, know that I know those expressions will be both pleasing and profitable to some which they imagine to be needless and super- abundant ; and that I had rather twenty nice critics should censure me for a word here and there superfluous than that one of those other should want that which might explain my meanings to their capacities, and so make frustrate all my labour to those who have most need of it, and for whom it was chiefly intended. G. WITHER. Tempus ad hoc mecum latuit, par tuque resedit, Necfuit audaces impetus ire vius. Nunc animi venere-, juvat nunc. deniquefunem Solvere : Ancora sublala est ; terras, portusque valete ! linus i habet ventus nostra carina tuus. WALLIU*. POSTSCRIPT. THERE was a certain Pisander whose name has been preserved in one of the proverbial sayings of the Greeks, because he lived in continual fear of seeing his own ghost. How often have I seen mine while arranging these volumes for publication, and carrying them through the press ! Twenty years have elapsed since the in- tention of composing them was conceived, and the composition commenced, in what manner and in what mood the reader will presently be made acquainted. The vicissi- tudes which in the course of those years have befallen every country in Europe are known to every one ; and the changes, which, during such an interval, must have occurred in a private family, there are few who may not, from their own sad experience, readily apprehend. Circumstances which when they were touched upon in these volumes were of present importance, and excited a lively interest, belong now to the history of the past. They who were then the great per- formers upon the theatre of public life have fretted their hour and disappeared from the stage. Many who were living and nourish- ing when their names were here sportively or severely introduced are gone to their account. The domestic circle which the introduction describes has in the ordinary course of things been broken up ; some of its members are widely separated from others, and some have been laid to rest. The reader may well believe that certain passages which were written with most joyousness of heart, have been rendered purely painful to the writer by time and change : and that some of his sweetest thoughts come to him in chewing the cud, like wormwood and gall. But it is a wholesome bitterness. He has neither expunged nor altered any thing on any of these accounts. It would be weakness to do this on the score of his own remembrances, and in the case of allu- sions to public affairs and to public men it would be folly. The Almanack of the cur- rent year will be an old one as soon as next year begins. It is the writer's determination to re- main unknown ; and they who may suppose that By certain signs here set in sundry place, they have discovered him, will deceive them- selves. A Welsh Triad says that the three unconcealable traits of a person by which he shall be known, are the glance of his eye, the pronunciation of his speech, and the mode of his self-motion ; in briefer English, his look, his voice, and his gait. There are no such characteristics by which an author can be identified. He must be a desperate mannerist who can be detected by his style, and a poor proficient in his art if he cannot at any time so vary it, as to put the critic upon a false scent. Indeed every day's experience shows that they who assume credit to themselves, and demand it from others for their discrimination in such things, are continually and ridiculously mistaken. On that side the author is safe ; he has a sure reliance upon the honour as well as the discretion of the very few to whom he is naturally or necessarily known ; and if the various authors to whom the Book will be ascribed by report, should derive any grati- fication from the perusal, he requests of them in return that they will favour his purpose by allowing sucli reports to pass uncontradicted. PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. [Prefixed to Fol. III. in the original Edition.} PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. "Ayt ivi, X . . . ' txi7rt, ARISTOPHANES. Jc vas de nouveau percer mon tonneau, etde la traicte, laquelle par deux precedents volumes voui est aa>ez cog- neue, vous tirer du creux de nos passetemps epicenatres un galant Herein, et consccutivement un joyeux quart de sentences Pantagruelliques. Par moy vous sera licite les appeller Diogcniqufs. Et peur n'ayez que le vin faille. Autant que vous en tireray par la dille, aulant en en- tonneray per le bondon. Ainsi demourera le tonneau inexpuisible. 11 a source vive el veine perpetuelle. RABELAIS. The wholesom'st meats that are will breed satiety Except we should admit of some variety. In music, notes must be some high, some base. And this I say, these pages have intendment, Still kept within the lists of good sobriety, To work in men's ill manners good amendment. Where/ore if any think the book unseasonable. Their stoic minds are foes to good society, And men of reason may think them unreasonable. It is an act of virtue and of piety, To warn men of their sins in any sort, la prose, in verse, in earnest, or in sport. SIR JOHN HARRINGTON. The great cement that holds these several discourses together is one main design which they jointly drive at, and which, I think, is confessedly generous and important, namely, the knowledge of true happiness, so far as reason can cut her way through those darknesses and difficulties she is encumbered with in this life : which though they be many and great, yet I should belie the sense of my own success, if I should pronounce them in- superable ; as also, if I were deprived of that sense, should lose many pleasures and enjoyments of mind, which 1 am now conscious to myself of: amongst which, there is none so considerable as that tacit reflection within myself, what real service may be rendered to religion by these my labours. HENRY MORE. Scriberefert animus multa et diversa, nee uno Gurgite versari semper ; quoflamina ducent Ibimus, et nunc has, nunc illas nabimus undas ; Ardua nunc ponti, nunc littora tula petemus. Et quanqutint interdumfretus ratione, latentes Xaturte tentabo vins, atque abdita pandam, Prtecipue tauten ilia sequar qutecunque videntur Prodesse, ac sanctos mortaltbus addere mares, Heu penitus (liceat verum mi/ii dicere) nostro Eztinctos tevo. PALINGENIUS. Ja n'est besoin (atrty Lecteur! ) t'escrire Par le m nu le provffit et plaisir Que recevras si ce livre veux lire, Et d'icclhiy le sens prendre au desir ; Veuille done prendre a le lire Icisir, Et que ce soil avecq intelligence. Si in le fm's, propos de grand plaisance Tu y vrras, et moult p> otifflteras ; Et si fiftidras engrand resjuuistance Le tien esprit, et ton temps passcras. JEAN FAVRE. " Gods me ! how now ! what present have we here '( " " A Book that stood in peril of the press ; But now it's past those pikes, and doth appear To keep the lookers on from heaviness." " What stuff contains it ? " " Fustian, perfect spruce, Wit's gallimalfry, or wit fried in steaks." " From whom came it, a God's name?" "From hit Muse, (Oh do not tell [) that still your favour seeks." " And who is that?"" Truth that is I." "What I? I per se I, great I, you would say." " No 1 Great I indeed you well may say ; but I Am little i, the least of all the row." DA VIES OP HEREFORD. Lector, esto libra te ofrezco, sin que me aya mandado Senor alguno que le escriva, ni menot me ayan impor- tunado mis amigos que le eilampe, iino solnnente par mi gusto, par mi antojo y par mi voluntad. MONT AJ. VAN. The reader must not expect in this work merely the private uninteresting history of a single person. He may expect whatever curious particulars can with any pro* priety be connected with it. Nor must the general dis- quisitions and the incidental narratives of the present work be ever considered as actually digressionary in their natures, and as merely useful in their notices. They are all united with the rest, and form proper parts of the whole. They have some of them a necessary connexion with the history of the Doctor ; they have many of them an intimate relation, they have all of them a natural affinity to it. And the Author has endeavoured, by a judicious distribution of them through the work, to pre- vent that disgusting uniformity, and to take off that un- interesting personality, which must necessarily result from the merely barren and private annals of an obscure individual. He has thus in some measure adopted the elegant principles of modern gardening. He has thrown down the close hedges and the high walls that have con- fined so many biographers in their views. He has called in the scenes of the neighbouring country to his aid, and has happily combined them into his own plan. He has drawn off the attention from the central point before it became languid and exhausted, by fetching in some ob- jects from society at large, or by presenting some view of the philosophy of man. But he has been cautious of mul- tiplying objects in the wantonness of refinement, and of distracting the attention with a confused variety. He has always considered the history of the Doctor, as the great fixed point, the enlivening centre, of all his excursions. Every opening is therefore made to carry an actual re- ference, either mediate or immediate, to the regular his- tory of the Doctor. And every visto is employed only for the useful purpose of breaking the stiff straight lines, of lighting up the dark, of heightening the little, and of colouring over the lifeless, in the regular history of the Doctor. Preface to \VHITAK.EH'S History of Manchester, mutatis mutandis. Chi Iristezza da se cacctar de&ia, Legga quest' opra saporita e bella. BERTOLDO. I exhort all People, gentle and simple, men, women and children, to buy, to read, to extol, these labours of mine. Let them not fear to defend every article ; for I will bear them harmless. I have arguments good store, and can easily confute, either logically, theologically, or metaphy- sically, all those who oppose me. ARBUTUNOT. PliELUDE OF MOTTOES. Scripta legis passim qunmplurima, lectur, in orbe, Qua damni plus quant commoditcitis habent. Hiec/vgienda procul cum sinl, sic ilia pelenda, Juctmda ulilibus qiue bene juncta docent. P. RUBIGALLUS PANNONICS. Out of the old fieldes, as men saith, Cometh all this new corn fro* year to year ; And out of old bookes, in good faith, Cometh all this new science that men lere. CHAUCER. [Prefixed to Vol. IV. in the original Edition.'} PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. TO THE READER IN ORDINARY. The Muses forbid that I should restrain your meddling, whom I see already busy with the title, and tricking over the leaves : it is your own. I departed with my right, when I let it 6rst abroad ; and now so secure an interpreter I am of my chance, that neither praise nor dispraise from you can affect me The commendation of good things may fall within a many, the approbation but in a few ; for the most commend out of affection, self-tickling, an easiness or imitation ; but men judge only out of know- ledge. That is the trying faculty ; and to those works that will bear a judge, nothing is more dangerous than a foolish praise. You will say, I shall not have yours there- fore ; but rather the contrary, all vexation of censure. If I were not above such molestations now, I had great cause to think unworthily of my studies, or they had so of me. But I leave you to your exercise. Begin. BEN JONSON. Je n'adresse point ce Livre & un Grand, stir une vaine opinion quej'aurois de la garantir ou de I'envie, ou de le fairs vivre contre les rudes assauts du temps, d'autant que sa principale recommendation doit deriver de son propre fonds, et nan de I'appuy tie celuy a quije le dedierois : car rien ne F ' auclorisera, s'il n'est remply de belles concep- tions, et tissu d'un langage bref, nerveux, et escrit d'une plume franche, resolve et hardie. La rondeur d'escrire plaist ; ces chases sont pour donner prix et pointe a nos escrits, et dtpiter le temps et la mart. Je prie Dieu que ces Tomes ressemblent a la beauti d'un jardin, duqutl Pun cueille une belle rose, fautre une violette, ou une giroflee; ainsi souhaitay-je qu'en ceste diversite de sujects, dont elles sont plaines, chacun tire dequoy resveiller, res- jouyr et contenter son esprit. NICOLAS PASQUIKR. Non ego me methodo astringam serviliter ulla, Sed temere Hyblccce more vagabor apis, Quo me tpes prcedce, et gene randi gloria mellis, Liberaque ingenii quoferet ala mei. COWLEY. Take not too much at once, lest thy brain turn edge ; Taste it first as a potion for physic, and by degrees thou shall drink it as beer for thirst. FULLER. QuiFafaitf Quiconque il ioit, en ce a este prudent, qu'il n'y a point mil son nom. RABELAIS. Jo me n' andrd con la barchetta mia, Quanta I' acqua compnrta tin picciol legno ; E cid rA' to penso con la fantasia, Dipiacere ad ognuno e 'I mio ditcgno : Cunvien che varic cose al mondo sia, Come son varj volti e vario ingegno, E piacc a V uno il bianco, a I' altro il pcr&o, diverse materie in prosa o in verso. Parse coloro ancor che leggeranno Di questa tanto piccolo favilla La mente con poca esca accenderanno De' monti o di Parnaso o di Sibilla : E de' mieifior come ape piglieranno I dotti, s' alcun dolce ne distilla ; 11 resto a molli pur dara dilettu, E lo autore ancorfia benedetto. PULCI. Most Prefaces are effectually apologies, and neither the Book nor the Author one jot the better for them. If the Book be good, it will not need an apology ; if bad it will not bear one : for where a man thinks by calling himself noddy in the epistle, to atone for shewing himself to be one in the text, he does, with respect to the dignity of an author, but bind up two fools in one cover. SIR RoGEa D'ESTRANGE. Inter cuncta leges, Qua ratione queas traducere leniter tevum ; Ne te semper inops agitet vexeique cupido, Ne pavor, et rerum mediocritcr utilium spes ; Quid minuat euros ; quid te tibi reddat amicum ; Quid pure tranquillet, honos, an dulce lucellum, Ansecretum tier, etfallentis semita vitte. HORACE. Si ne suis je toutesfois hors d'esperance, que si quel- qu'un daigne lire, et bicn gouster ces miens escrits, (en- cores que le langage n'en soit esleve, ny enfli) il ne les trouvera du tout vuides de saveur ; ny tant desgarniz d"utilite',qu'ils n'en jncissent tirer plaisir et profit,pourveu que leurs esprits ne soyent auparavant saisiz de mal vueillance, ou imbuz de quelques autres mauvaises opinions. Je prie doncques tous Lecteurs entrer en la lecture dfs presents discours, delivres de toute passion ct emulation. Car quand I'amertume d'rnvie ou mal vueil- lance, est detrempee en desir de contrcdire, elle ne laisse jamais le goust que deprave et maljugeant. PIERRE DE ST. JULIEN. Here are no forced expressions, no rack'd phrase, No Babel compositions to amaze The tortured reader, no believed defence To strengthen the bold Atheist's insolence, No obscene syllable that may compel A blush from a chaste maid. MASSINGEH. Read, and fear not thine own understanding ; this book will create a clear one in thee ; and when thou hast consi- dered thy purchase, thou wilt call the price of it a charity to thyself. SHIRLEY. One caveat, good Reader, and then God speed thee ! - Do not open it at adventures, and by reading the broken pieces of two or three lines, judge it; but read it through, and then I beg no pardon if thou dislikest it. Farewell. THOMAS ADAMS. Listen while my tongue Reveals what old Harmodius wont to teach My early age ; Harmodius, who had weigh'd Within his learned mind whate'er the schools Of Wisdom, or thy lonely whispering voice, O faithful Nature, dictate of the laws Which govern and support this mighty frame Of universal being. AKENSIDE. EURIPIDES. PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. [Prefixed to Vol, V. in the original Edition.] PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. See here, gee here, a Doctor rare, Who travels much at home ; Come take his pills, they cure all ills, Past, present, and to coma Take a little of his nif-naf, Put it on your tif-taf. THE BISHOPRICK GARLAND. Quod virgo proba, quod stolata mater, Quod purus positd severitate Jam postpulpita perlegat saccrdo*. T.L. ON SIR WM. KILLIGREW'S SELISDBA. I entered on this work certainly with considerable materials, and since engaging in it, in reading, in think- ing, in correcting and improving, I have proportioned my labours to my undertaking. Every step I advanced, I did but more clearly see how much farther I might go. Here too readers and some writers may be reminded of the effect produced by finding a pleasure in your employ- ment ; some burdens are sweet ; you lose the sense of weight by the deceptions of fancy and occasional rests ; and in proportion as your journey becomes more agree- able, you are in danger of growing more dilatory. GEORGE DYER. Si tu iombes entre let mains de ceux qui ne voyent rien d'autruy que pour y trouver sujet de i'y desplaire, et qu'ils te reprochent que ton Docteur est eunuyeux ; responds Ifur qu'il est ii leur choix de lui voir ou ne lui voir point. Si tic te trouves parmy ceux qui font profession d'inter- preter les songes, et descouvrir les pensees plus secrettes d'autruy, et qu'ils asseurent que * * est un tel homme et * * une telle femme ; ne leur respond rien ; car ils ifavent assex qu'ils ne sfavent pas ce qu'ils disent : mat's supplie ceux qui pourroient eslre abusez de leur s fictions, de consider er que si ces chases ne m'importent,j'aurois eu bien peu d'esprit de Its avoir voulu dissimuler et ne C avoir sceufaire. Que si en ce qu'ils diront, il n'y a guere d~ap- parence, il ne lesfaut pas croire : et s'il y en a beaucoup, il faut penser que pour couvrir la chose que je voulois tenir caches et ensevelie,je feusse autrement desguisee. ASTREE mutatis mutandis. I would not be in danger of that law of Moses, that if a man dig a pit and cover it not, he must recompense those which are damnified by it ; which is often interpreted of such as shake old opinions, and do not establish new as certain, but leave consciences in a worse danger than they found them in. I believe that law of Moses hath in it some mystery and appliableness ; for by that law men are only then bound to that indemnity and compensation, if an ox or an ass, (that is such as are of a strong constitution and accustomed to labour) fall therein ; but it is not said so, if a sheep or a goat fall : no more are we if men in a silliness or wantonness will stumble or take a scandal, bound to rectify them at all times. And therefore because I justly presume you strong and watchful enough, I make account that I am not obnoxious to that law ; since my meditations are neither too wide nor too deep for you. DONNE'S LETTERS. Such an author consulted in a morning sets the spirits for the vicissitudes of the day, better than the glass does a man's person. SIB RICHARD STEELE. The Load-stone of Attraction I find out, The Card of Observation guides about, The Needle of Discretion points the way. DUTCHESS OF NEWCASTLE. /3'OTti trxCo-aa-t)- UMTOUOI. "Piu.@iu.ftoi fx/yriri xtu a. ivxros, .prits curieux. L'HisroiRE DU CHEVALIBB DU SOLEIL. Be rather wise than witty, for much wit hath commonly much froth ; and 'tis hard to jest and not sometimes jeer too; which many times sinks deeper than was intended or expected; and what was designed for mirth, ends in sad- ness. CALEB TKENCHFIELD, (probably a fictitious name,) RESTITUTA. In some passages you will observe me very satirical. Writing on such subjects I could not be otherwise. I can write nothing without aiming, at least, at usefulness. It were beneath my years to do it, and still more dishonour- able to my religion. I know that a reformation of such abuses as I have censured is not to be expected from the efforts of an author; but to contemplate the world, its follies, its vices, its indifferences to duty, and its strenuous attachment to what is evil, and not to reprehend, were to approve it. From this charge, at least, I shall be clear ; for I have neither tacitly, nor expressly flattered either its characters or its customs. COWPER. Nemo co sapientius den'puisse, nemo stultius sapuisse videtur. Said of Cardan by I know not who. II y en a quipensent que les lecteurs reyoivent peu a' in- struction, quand on leur represente des choses qui n'ont pas esle achevees, qu'eux appellent ceuvres imparfaites ; mat's je ne suis pas de leur advis ; car quand quelquefait est descrit a la veriti, et avec ses circonstances, encor qu'il ne soft parvenu qu'a mychemin, si peut-on tnusjours en tirer dufruict. LA NOUB. Authors, you know of greatest fame, Thro' modesty suppress their name ; And would you wish me to reveal What these superior wits conceal ? Forego the search, my curious friend, And husband time to better end. All my ambition is, I own, To profit and to please unknown, Like streams supplied from springs below Which scatter blessings as they flow. DR. COTTON. Thus have I, as well as I could, gathered a posey of observations as they grew, and if some rue and worm- wood be found amongst the sweeter herbs, their whole- someness will make amends for their bitterness. ADAM LITTLETON. This worthy work in which of good examples are so many, This orchard of Alcinous, in which there wants not any Herb, tree, or fruit that may mans use for health or pleasure serve; This plenteous horn of Acheloy, which justly doth de- serve To bear the name of Treasury of Knowledge, I present To your good worships once again, desiring you there- fore To let your noble courtesy and favour countervail My faults, where art or eloquence on my behalf doth fail, For sure the mark whereat I shoot is neither wreaths of bay, Nor name of author, no, nor meed ; but chiefly that it may Be liked well of you and all the wise and learned sort ; And next, that every wight that shall have pleasure for to sport Him in this garden, may as well bear wholesome fruit away As only on the pleasant flowers his retchless senses stay. GOLDINO. Doubtless many thoughts have presented, and are still presenting themselves to my mind, which once I had no idea of. But these, in I believe every instance, are as much the growth of former rooted principles, as multiplied branches grow from one and the same main stem. Of such an inward vegetation I am always conscious ; and I equally seem to myself to perceive the novelty of the fresh shoot, and its connexion with what had been produced before. ALEXANDER KNOX. The extensive argument and miscellaneous nature of the work led him to declare liis sentiments on a multitude of questions, on which he thought differently from other writers, and of course, to censure or confute their opinions. Whole bodies of men, as well as individuals of the highest reputation, were attacked by him, and his manner was to speak his sense of all with freedom and force. So that most writers, and even readers, had some ground of com- plaint against him. Not only the free-thinkers and un- believers, against whom the tenour of his book was directed, but the heterodox of every denomination were treated without much ceremony, and of the orthodox themselves, some tenet or other, which till then they had held sacred, was discussed and reprobated by him. Strag- gling heresies, or embodied systems, made no difference with him ; as they came in his way, no quarter was given to either, " his end and manner of writing," as Dr. Mid dleton truly observed, " being to pursue truth wherever he found it." KURD'S LIFE OF WARBURTON. Thou art like my rappee, here, a most ridiculous super- fluity; but a pinch of thee now and then is a more delicious t rea t. CLANDESTINE MARRIAGB. Yea but what am I? A scholar, or a schoolmaster, or else some youth ? A lawyer, a student, or else a country clown ? A brumman, a basket-maker, or a baker of pies ? A flesh, or a fishmonger, or a sower of lies ? A louse, or a louser, a leek or a lark, A dreamer, a drommell, a fire or a spark ? XIV PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. A caitiff, a cut-throat, a creeper in corners, A hairbrain, a hangman, or a grafter of homers ? A merchant, a maypole, a man or a mackarel, A crab or a crevise, a crane or a cockerel! ? APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. It may appear to some ridiculous Thus to talk knave and madman, and sometimes Come in with a dried sentence, stuft with sage. WEBSTER. Etsi verd, quce in isto opere desiderentur, rectius forsan quam quivis alius, perspiciam ; et si meo plane voto stan- dumfuisset, id, in tanta, quce fiodie est librorum copid, vel plane suppressissem, vel in multos annos adhucpressissem; tamen aliquid amicis, aliquid tempori dandum ; et cum Us gut aliquid fructus ex eo spcrant, illud commumcandum putavi. Hunc itaque meum qualcmcunque laborem, Lec- tor candide, boni consuls ; quod te facile facturum confido, si eum animum ad legendum attuleris, qucm ego ad scri- bendum, veritatis nimirum aliisque inserviendi cupidum. SENNERTUS. [Prefixed to Vol. VII. in the original Edition.] PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. Well : we go on. MERIC CASAUBON. Ventri utinam pax sit, sic varianle cibo. VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS. I had forgot one half, I do protest, And now am sent again to speak the rest. DRYDEN. Well said, Master Doctor, well said ; By the mass we must have you into the pulpit. LUSTY JCVENTUS. Why this is quincy quarie pepper de watchet single go- by, of all that ever I tasted 1 ROBERT GREENE. Alonso. Prythee no more ! thou dost talk nothing to me. Gonzalo. I did it to minister occasion to these gentle- men who are of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always use to laugh at nothing. TEMPEST. Comme Von voit, a Vouvrir de la porte D'un cabinet royal, maint beau tableau, Mainte antiquaiHe, et tout ce que de beau Le Portugais des Indes nous apporte ; A us si des lor s que Vhomme qui medite, Et est syavant, commence de s'ouvrir, Un grand thresor vient d se descouvrir, Thresor cache au putts de Democrite. QUATRAINS DE PIBRAC. Cum enim infelicius nihil sit Us ingeniis, ut recte J. Ctes. Scaliger censet, qute mordicus sentiunt Majores nostros nihil ignorasse, mancipium alienarum opinionum nun- quam esse volui. Contra nee me puduit ab aliis discere, et qutcdam exits in mea scripta transferre ; quod omnibus ircuttl ab omnibus viris doctis factitatum video, neminem- que adhuc inventum existimo, qui omnia, quee in publicum edidit, in suo cerebro nata esse gloriari potuerit. In- venient tamen, qui volent, in meis aliqua, eaque a veritate non aliena, qua; in aliorum scriplii forsan non ita stint obviit. Verum omnibus placcre impossibile ; et, ut J. Ctes. Scaliger ait Qui sevit, ab alto pluviam satis precatur ; At iterfaciens imbribus imprecatur atris, Non stepe Deus placet ; et tu placer e credis t Ideoque invidorum obtrectationibus nihil motus, tomurn sextum Doctorls in publicum edidi, ac septimum jam in manus sumam, et in eo quousque D. 0. M. placucrit, pro- gredwr. In quo ipso etiatn etsi non pauca qutE obtrecta- tioni malevolorum et invidorum obnoiia esse poterunt, dicenda erunt, proferam tamen ea libere. SENNEHTUS. Tired of thee, my Opus ? that is impossible ! G'j^l fAttrrof you ytyov' ovftzi; ^TUTOT-. rut f-t.lv yiaf aXXtm ifri xatrur !r}.r l /ru.otri' fftu 3' tyiitr' ovtiiif fJMTTOi ev$ixutrTi. ARISTOPHANES. I desire the unlearned readers not to be offended for that I have in some places intermixed Greek and Latin (and other tongues) with the English. For I have an especial regard unto young -scholars and students, unto whom it is not possible to be expressed what great utility, benefit, and knowledge doth redound, of conferring one strange language with another. Neither is it to be doubted, but that such as are towards the discipline of good literature in divers tongues, may of such doings as this pick out as much utility and furtherance of their studies, as the unlearned shall take pleasure and fruit of the English for their use. Whoso careth not for the Latin may pass it over, and satisfy himself with the En- glish. Whopasseth not on the Greek, may semblably pass it over, and make as though he see none such. There is in this behalf no man's labour lost but mine, and yet not that all lost neither, if my good zeal and honest intent to do good to all sorts, be in good part interpreted and ac- cepted. NICHOLAS UDALL. Truly for the Englishman to be offended with the ad- mixtion of Latin, or the Latin-man to dislike the powder- ing of Greek, appeareth unto me a much like thing, as if at a feast with variety of good meats and drinks furnished, one that loveth to feed of a capon should take displeasure that another man hath appetite to a coney ; or one that serveth his stomach with a partridge should be angry with another that hath a mind to a quail ; or one that drinketh small beer, should be grieved with his next fellow for drinking ale or wine. NICHOLAS UDALL. If food and amusement are wanted for the body, what does he deserve who finds food and amusement for the mind ? GNOMICA. Mai voi, seguitate il ragionamento del Dottore ; et mostrateci, come havete bona memoria ; che credo se sape- rete ritaccarlo ove lo lasciaste, non f arete poco. CASTIGLIONE. If any complain of obscurity, they must consider, that in these matters it cometh no otherwise to pass than in sundry the works both of art and also of nature, where that which hath greatest force in the very things we see, is, notwithstanding, itself oftentimes not seen. The stateliness of horses, the goodliness of trees, when we behold them, delighteth the eye ; but that foundation which beareth up the one, that root which ministereth unto the other nourishment and life, is in the bosom of the earth concealed ; and if there be at any time occasion to search into it, such labour is then more necessary than pleasant, both to them which undertake it, and for the lookers on. HOOKER. PRELUDE OF MOTTOES. [xiv] Alcuni dicono ch' to ho crcduto formar me stcsso, per- suadendomi che le conditioni ch' io al Dottore attribuisco, tutte siano in me. A" guesli tali non voglio gid negar di nan haver lenlato tutto quello, ch' io vorrei che sapesse fi Dottore ; et penso che chi non havesse havuto qualche notitia delle cose che nel libra si trattano, per erudito che Jusse stato,male haverebbe potato scrivetle: ma io non son tanto privo di giudicio in conoscere me slesso, che mi presuma saper tutto quello, che to desiderare. CASTIGLIONE. In a building, if it be large, there is much to be done in preparing and laying the foundation, before the walls appear above ground; much is doing within, when the work does not seem, perhaps, to advance without, and when it is considerably forward, yet being encumbered with scaffolds and rubbish, a bystander sees it at great disadvantage, and can form but an imperfect judgment of it. But all this while the architect himself, even from the laying of the first stone, conceives of it according to the plan and design he has formed ; lie prepares and ad- justs the materials, disposing each in its proper t'.me and place, and views it in idea as already finished. In due season it is compleated, but not in a day. The top-stone is fixed, and then, the scaffolds and rubbish being re- moved, it appears to others as he intended it should be. JOHN NEWTON. Non si dea adunque V uomo contenlare di fare le cose buone, ma dee studiare di farle unco leggiadre. E non I altro leggiadria, che una cotale quasi luce, che risplende datta convenevolezza delle cose, che sono ben composte, e ben divisate F una con I' altra, e tutte insieme ; senza la quel misura eziandio il bene non e bello, e la bellezza non e piacevole. M. Gio. DELLA CASA, GALATEO. Pick out of mirth, like stones out of thy ground, Profaneness, filthiness, abusiveness ; These are the scum with which coarse wits abound ; The few may spare them well. HERBERT. The wise, weighs each thing as it ought, Mistakes no term, nor sentence wrests awry ; The fond will read awhile, but cares for nought, Yet easts on each man's work a frowning eye. This neither treats of matters low nor high, But finds a meane, that each good meaning might In all true means take Charity aright. CHURCHYARD. While others fish with craft for great opinion, I with great truth catch mere simplicity. Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns, With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. Fear not my truth ; the moral of my wit Is plain and true; there's all the reach of it. SHAKSPEARE. on rc,f(tnxv;, xoux itt^r aufiri' eti/Tu 3-oAu ri iSiot riif aarir: r t&tixa xa,rnn, i>>> TO, T{r. HOMER. CONTENTS. THE DOCTOR, fe. Eccoti il libra ; mettivi ben euro Iddio f ajuti e dia buona ventura. ORL. I.S.NAM. CHAPTER I. P.I. p. 11. THE SUBJECT? OF THIS HISTORY AT HOME AND AT TEA. If thou be a severe sour complexioned man then I here disallow thee to be a competent judge. IZAAK WALTON. CHAPTER II. P. I. p. 11. WHEREOT CERTAIN QUESTIONS ARE PROPOSED CON- CERNING TIME, PLACE AND PERSONS. Quis? quid? ubi? quibus auxiliis? cur? quomodo? quando? TECHNICAL VERSE. CHAPTER III. P. I. p. 12. WHOLESOME OBSERVATIONS UPON THE VANITY OF FAME. Whosoever shall address himself to write of matters of instruction, or of any other argument of importance, it behoveth that before he enter thereinto, he should reso- lutely determine with himself in what order he will handle the same ; so shall he best accomplish that he hath un- dertaken, and inform the understanding, and help the memory of the Reader. GWILLIM'S DISPLAY OF HERALDRY. CHAPTER IV. P. I. p. 13. BIRTH AND PARENTAGE OF DR. DOVE, WITH THE DESCRIPTION OF A YEOMAN'S HOUSE IN THE WEST RIDING OF YORKSHIRE A HUNDRED YEARS AGO. Non possidentem mitlta vocaverit Recte beatum ; rectius occupat Nomen beati, qui Deorum Muneribus sapienter uti, Duramque collet pauperiem pati, Pejusque letho flagitium timet. HORACE, L. 4. Od. 9. CHAPTER V. P. I. p. 15. EXTENSION OF THE SCIENCE OF PHYSIOGNOMY, WITH SOME REMARKS UPON THE PRACTICAL USES OF CRANIOLOGY. Hanc ergo scicntiam blonde excipiamus, hilariterque amplectamur, ut vere nostram et de nobismet ipsis trac- tantem ; quam qui nan amat, quam qui non ampltctitur, nee phikxophiam amat, neque sues vilts discrimina curat. BAPTISTA POHTA. CHAPTER VI. P. I. p. 17. A COLLECTION OF BOOKS NONE OF WHICH ARE INCLUDED AMONGST THE PUBLICATIONS OF ANY SOCIETY FOR THE PROMOTION OF KNOWLEDGE RELIGIOUS OR PROFANE. HAPPINESS IN HUMBLE LIFE. Felix tile animi, divisque simillimus ipsis, Quern non mordaci resplendent gloria fuco Solicitat, non fastosi mala gaudia luxtts, Sed tacilos sinit ire dies, et paupere cultu Exigit innocuce tranquilla silentia vitte. POLITIAN. CHAPTER VII. P. I. p. 20. RUSTIC PHILOSOPHY. AN EXPERIMENT UPON MOONSHINE. Quien comiema enjuvenlud A bicn obrar, Senal es de no error, En senetud. PROVEBBIOS DEL MARQUES DE SANTILLANA. CHAPTER VIII. P.I. p. 23. A KIND SCHOOLMASTER AND A HAPPY SCHOOL BOY. Though happily thou wilt say that wands be to be wrought when they are green, lest they rather break than bend when they be dry, yet know also that he that bendeth a twig because he would see if it would bow by strength may chance to have a crooked tree when he would have a straight. EUPHULS. LNTERCHAPTER I. p. 26. REMARKS IN THE PRINTING OFFICE. THE AUTHOR CONFESSES A DISPOSITION TO GARRULITY. PRO- PRIETY OF PROVIDING CERTAIN CHAPTERS FOR THE RECEPTION OF HIS EXTRANEOUS DIS- COURSE. CHOICE OF AN APPELLATION FOR SUCH CHAPTERS. Perque vices aliquid, quod tempora longa virieri Non sinat, in medium vacua* referamus ad aurei. OVID. CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. P.I. p. 26. EXCEPTIONS TO ONE OF KING SOLOMON'S RULES A WINTER'S EVENING AT DANIEL'S FIRESIDE. These are my thoughts ; I might have spun them out into a greater lengih, but I think a little plot of ground, thick sown, is better than a great field which, for the most part of it, lies fallow. NORRIS. CHAPTER X. P. I. p. 27. ONE WHO WAS NOT SO WISE AS HIS FRIENDS COULD HAVE WISHED, AND YET QUITE AS HAPPY AS IF HE HAD BEEN WISER. NEPOTISM NOT CONFINED TO POPES. There are of madmen as there are of tame, All humoured not alike. Some Apish and fantastic ; And though 'twould grieve a soul to see God's image So blemished and defaced, yet do they act Such antic and such pretty lunacies, That spite of sorrow, they will make you smile. DEKKER. CHAPTER XI. P. I. p. 29. A WORD TO THE READER, SHOWING WHERE WE ARE, AND HOW WE CAME HERE, AND WHERE- FORE ; AND WHITHER WE ARE GOING. 'Tis my venture On your retentive wisdom. BEN JONIOM. CHAPTER XII. P. I. p. 31. A HISTORY NOTICED WHICH IS WRITTEN BACK- WARD. THE CONFUSION OF TONGUES AN ESPE- CIAL EVIL FOR SCHOOLBOYS. For never in the long and tedious tract Of slavish grammar was I made to plod ; No tyranny of Rules my patience rackt ; I served no prenticehood to any Rod ; But in the freedom of the Practic way Learnt to go right, even when I went astray. DR. BEAUMONT. CHAPTER XIII. P. I. p. 33. A DOUBT CONCERNING SCHOOL BOOKS, WHICH WILL BE DEEMED HERETICAL: AND SOME AC- COUNT OF AN EXTRAORDINARY SUBSTITUTE FOR OVID OR VIRGIL. They say it is an ill mason that refuseth any stone ; and there is no knowledge but in a skilful hand serves, either positively as it is, or else to illustrate some other knowledge. HERBERT'S REMAINS. CHAPTER XIV. P. I. p. 36. AN OBJECTION ANSWERED. Is this then your wonder ? Nay then you shall under- stand more of my skill. BEN JONSON. CHAPTER XV. P. I. p. 37. THE AUTHOR VENTURES AN OPINION AGAINST THE PREVAILING WISDOM OF MAKING CHILDREN PREMATURELY WISE. Pray you, use your freedom : And so far, if you please allow me mine, To hear you only ; not to be compelled To take your moral potions. MASSINGER. CHAPTER XVI. P. I. p. 38. USE AND ABUSE OF STORIES IN REASONING, WITH A WORD IN BEHALF OF CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS AND IN REPROOF OF THE EARL OF LAUDER- DALE. My particular inclination moves me in controversy especially to approve his choice that said, fortia mallem quam fortnosa. Dr. JACKSON. INTERCHAPTER II. p. 40. ABALLIBOOZOBANGANORRIBO. la 'I dico dunque e dicol che ognun m" ode. BENEDETTO VARCHI. CHAPTER XVII. P. I. p. 42. THE HAPPINESS OF HAVING A CATHOLIC TASTE. There's no want of meat, Sir ; Portly and curious viands are prepared To please all kinds of appetites. MASSIXOF.R. CHAPTER XVIII. P. I. p. 44. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELT- CHAPTER XIX. P. I. p. 45. A CONVERSATION WITH MISS GRAVEAIRS. Operi stacepto inserviendum fnit ; so Jacobus Mycillui pleadeth for himself in his translation of Liician's Dia- logues, and so do I ; I must and will perform my task. BURTON. CHAPTER XX. P. I. p. 46. HOW TO MAKE GOLD. L' Alchimista non travaglia a voto ; Ei cerca C oro, ei cerca C oro, to dico Ch' ei cerca F oro ; e *' ei giungetse in porto Fora ben per se ilesso e per altrui. 7," oro e somma posanza infra morfaii; Chiedine a Cavalier, chiedine a Dame, Chiedine a tvtto il Hondo. CHIABRERA. CHAPTER XXL P.I. p. 49. A DOUBT CONCERNING THE USES OF PHILOSOPHY. El comienzo de salad e* el saber, distingtiir y conocer qttal es virttid. PROVERBIOS DEL MARQUES DE SANTILLAVA. CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXII. P.I. p. 50. TCII/ 5' diraiJ.iiQijfj.ivog. Qfelice colui, che intender puote Le cagiott de le cose di natura, Che al piu di que' che vivon sono ignote ; E solto it pit si mette ogni paitra Defati, e de la morte, ch'i si trista, Ne di vulgo gli cat, ne d'altro ha cur a. TANSILLO. CHAPTER XXIII. P.I. p. 52. ROWLAND DIXON AND HIS COMPANY OF PUPPETS. Alii se ve tan cficaz el llanto, lasfabulas y historias retratadas, que parece verdad, y es dulce cncanto. * * * Y para el vulgo rudo, que ignorante aborrece el manjar costoso, guisa el plato del gracioso extravagante ; Con que les hartas de contento y risa, guslando de mirar sayal grossero, mas que sutil y Candida car/lisa. JOSEPH ORTIZ DE VILLENA. CHAPTER XXIV. P. I. p. 55. QUACK AND NO QUACK, BEING AN ACCOUNT OF DR. OKEEN AND HIS MAN KEMP. POPULAR MEDI- CINE, HEBBAEY, THEORY OF SIGNATURES, WIL- LIAM DOVE, JOHN WESLEY, AND BAXTER. Hold thy hand ! health's dear maintainer ; Life perchance may burn the stronger : Having substance to maintain her She untouched may last the longer. When the Artist goes about To redress her flame, I doubt Oftentimes he snuffs it out. QUAKLES. CHAPTER XXV. P. I. p. 62. Hiatus valde lacrymabilis. Time flies away fast, The while we never remember How soon our life here Grows old with the year That dies with the next December ! HEKRICK. CHAPTER XXVI. P. I. p. 64. DANIEL AT DONCASTER ; THE REASON WHY HE WAS DESTINED FOR THE MEDICAL PROFESSION, RATHER THAN HOLY ORDERS; AND SOME RE- MARKS UPON SERMONS. Je ne veux distimuler, amy Lectcur, que je n'aye bicn priveu, et me tiens pour deiiement adverty, que ne puts eviter la reprehension d'aucuns, et les calomnies de plu~ tieurs, ausqucls c'est escrit desplaira du tout. CHRISTOPLE DE HERICOURT. CHAPTER XXVII. P. I. p. 67. A PASSAGE IN PROCOPIUS IMPROVED. A STORY CONCERNING URIM AND THUMMIM J AND THE ELDER DANIEL'S OPINION OF THE PROFESSION OF THE LAW. Here is Domine Picklock, My man of Law, sollicits all my causes, Follows my business, makes and compounds my quarrels Between my tenants and me ; sows all my strifes And reaps them too, troubles the country for me, And vexes any neighbour that I please, BEN JONSON. CHAPTER XXVIII. P. I. p. 69. PETER HOPKINS. EFFECTS OF TIME AND CHANGE. DESCRIPTION OF HIS DWELLING-HOUSE. Combien de c/iangemens tiequis que suis au monde, Qui n'est qu'un point du terns ! PASijuiEit. CHAPTER XXIX. P. I. p. 70. A HINT OF REMINISCENCE TO THE READER. THE CLOCK OF ST. GEORGE'S. A WORD IN HONOUR OF ARCHDEACON MARKHAM. There is a ripe season for everything, and if you slip that or anticipate it, you dim the grace of tiie matter be it never so good. As we say by way of Proverb that an hasty birth brings forth blind whelps, so a good tale tumbled out before the time is ripe for it, is ungrateful to the hearer. BISHOP HACKETT. CHAPTER XXX. P. 1. p. 72. THE OLD BELLS RUNG TO A NEW TUNE. If the bell have any sides the clapper will find 'em. BEN JONSON. CHAPTER XXXI. P. I. p. 75. MORE CONCERNING BELLS. Lord, ringing changes all our bells hath marr'd ; Jangied they have and jarr'd So long, they're out of tune, and out of frame ; They seetn not now the same. Put them in frame anew, and once begin To tune them so, that they may chime all in. HERBERT. CHAPTER XXXII. P. I. p. 76. AN INTRODUCTION TO CERTAIN PRELIMINARIES ESSENTIAL TO THE PROGRESS OF THIS WORK. Mas demos ya el assienlu en lo importnnte, due el tiempo huye del mundo par la posla. BALBUENA. CHAPTER XXXIII. P. I. p. 78. DONCASTRIANA. THE RIVER DON. Rivers from bubbling springs Have rise at first ; and great from abject things. MIDDLETON. CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXIV. P. I. p. 80. MORAL, INTEREST OF TOPOGRAPHICAL WORKS. LOCAL ATTACHMENT. Let none our Author rudely blame Who from the story has thus long digrest ; But for his righteous pains may his fair fame For ever travel, whilst his ashes rest. SIR WILLIAM DAVKNANT. IXTERCHAPTER III. p. 82. THE AUTHOR QUESTIONS THE PROPRIETY OF PER- SONIFYING CIRCUMSTANCE, DENIES THE UNITY AND INDIVISIBILITY OF THE PUBLIC, AND MAY' EVEN BE SUSPECTED OF DOUBTING ITS OMNI- SCIENCE AND ITS INFALLIBILITY. Haforse Testa la plebe, ove si chiuda in vece Si senno, ultra cfie nebbia ? o. forma voce Chi sta pib saggia, che un bebU d'armento f CHIABKEBA. CHAPTER XXXV. P. I. p. 83. DONCASTRIANA. POTTERIC CARR. SOMETHING CONCERNING THE MEANS OF EMPLOYING THE POOR, AND BETTERING THEIR CONDITION. Why should I sowen draf out of my fist When I may sowen wheat, if that me list ? CHAUCER. CHAPTER XXXVI. P.I. p. 85. KEMARKS ON AN OPINION OF MR. CRABBE's. TOPO- GRAPHICAL POETRY. DRAYTON. Do, pious marble, let thy readers know What they and what their children owe To Drayton's.name, whose sacred dust We recommend unto thy trust. Protect his memory, and preserve his story ; Remain a lasting monument of his glory ; And when thy ruins shall disclaim To be the treasurer of his name, His name that cannot fade shall be An everlasting monument to thee. EPITAPH IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. CHAPTER XXXVII. P. I. p. 87. ANECDOTES OF PETER IIEYLYN AND LIGHTFOOT, EXEMPLIFYING THAT GREAT KNOWLEDGE IS NOT ALWAYS APPLICABLE TO LITTLE THINGS ; AND THAT AS CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME, SO IT MAY WITH EQUAL TRUTH SOMETIMES BE SAID THAT KNOWLEDGE ENDS THERE. A scholar in his study knows the stars, Their motion and their influence, which are fix'd, And which are wandering ; can decypher seas, And give each several land his proper bounds : But set him to the compass he's to seek, Where a plain pilot can direct his course From hence unto both the Indies. HBYWOOD. CHAPTER XXXVIII. P.I. p. 90. THE READER IS LED TO INFER THAT A TRAVELLER WHO STOPS UPON THE WAY TO SKETCH, BOTA- NISE, ENTOMOLOGISE OR MINERALOGISE, TRA- VELS WITH MORE PLEASURE AND PROFIT TO HIMSELF THAN IF HE WERE IN THE MAIL COACH. Non servio maieritE sed indulgeo ,- quam quo ducit te- quendum est, rum quo invitat. SENECA. INTERCHAPTER IV. p. 91. ETYMOLOGICAL DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE REMAINS OF VARIOUS TRIBES OR FAMILIES MENTIONED IN SCRIPTURAL HISTORY. All things are big with jest ; nothing that's plain But may be witty, if thou hast the vein. HERBERT. CHAPTER XXXIX. P. I. p. 92. A CHAPTER FOR THE INFORMATION OF THOSE WHO MAY VISIT DONCASTER, AND ESPECIALLY OF THOSE WHO FREQUENT THE RACES THERE. My good Lord, there is a Corporation, A body, a kind of body. MIDDLETON. CHAPTER XL. P. I. p. 96. REMARKS ON THE ART OF VERBOSITY. A RULE OF COCCEIU8, AND ITS APPLICATION TO THE LAN- GUAGE AND PRACTICE OF THE LAW. If they which employ their labour and travail about the public administration of justice, follow it only as a trade, with unquenchable and unconscionable thirst of gain, being not in heart persuaded that justice is God's own work, and themselves his agents in this business, the sentence, of right, God's own verdict, and themselves his priests to deliver it ; formalities of justice do but serve to smother right ; and that which was necessarily ordained for the common good, is through shameful abuse made the cause of common misery. HOOKER. CHAPTER XLI. P. I. p. 97. REVENUE OF THE CORPORATION OF DONCASTER WELL APPLIED. DONCASTER RACES. Play not for gain but sport : who plays for more Than he can lose with pleasure, stakes his heart ; Perhaps his wife's too, and whom she hath bore. HERBERT. INTERCHAPTER V. p. 98. WHEREIN THE AUTHOR MAKES KNOWN HIS GOOD INTENTIONS TO ALL READERS, AND OFFERS GOOD ADVICE TO SOME OF THEM. I can write, and talk too, as soft as other men, with submission to better judgements, and I leave it to you Gentlemen. I am but one, and I always distrust myself. I only hint my thoughts : You'U please to consider whether you will not think that it may seem to deserve yiiur con- sideration. This is a taking way of speaking. But much good may do them that use it ! ASGILL. XX CONTENTS. CHAPTER XLII. P.I. p. 100. DONCASTER CHURCH. THE RECTORIAL TITHES SECURED BY ARCHBISHOP SHARP FOR HIS OWN FAMILY. Say ancient edifice, thyself with years Grown grey, how long upon the hill has stood Thy weather-braving tower, and silent mark'd The human leaf in constant bud and fall ? The generations of deciduous man, How often hast thou seen them pass away ! HUROIS. CHAPTER XLIII. P.I. p. 101. ANTIQUITIES OF DONCASTER. THE DEJE MATRES. SAXON FONT. THE CASTLE. THE HELL CROSS. yieux monuments, Las, peit a peu cendre vous devenex. Fable du peuple el publiques rapines ! Et bien qu'au Temps pour un temps facent guerre Les bastimens, si cst ce que le Tempt Oeuvres el nomsfinable-inent atterre. JOACHIM uu BELL\V. CHAPTER XLIV. P. I. p. 103. HISTORICAL CIRCUMSTANCES CONNECTED WITH DONCASTER. THOMAS, EARL OF LANCASTER. EDWARD IV. ASKE'S INSURRECTION. ILLUS- TRIOUS VISITORS. JAMES I. BARNABEE. CHARLES I. CHURCH LIBRARY. They unto whom we shall appear tedious, are in no wise injured by us, because it is in their own hands to spare that labour which they are not willing to endure. HOOKER. CHAPTER XLV. P. I. p. 105. CONCERNING THE WORTHIES, OR GOOD MEN, WHO WERE NATIVES OF DONCASTER, OR OTHERWISE CONNECTED WITH THAT TOWN. Vir bonus est quis ? TERENCE. INTERCHAPTER VI. p. 106. CONTINGENT CAUSES. PERSONAL CONSIDERATIONS INDUCED BY REFLECTING ON THEM. THE AUTHOR TREMBLES FOR THE PAST. Vereis que no hay lazada desasida De nudo y de pendencia soberana ; Ni a poder trastornar la orden del cielo Lasfuerzas Uegan, ni el saber del suelo. BALBUENA. CHAPTER XLVI. P. I. p. 107. DANTEL DOVE'S ARRIVAL AT DONCASTER. THE ORGAN IN ST. GEORGE'S CHURCH. THE PULPIT. MRS. NEALE'S BENEFACTION. Non ulla Musi's pagina gralior Quam qiuc sever is ludicra jungcre ffovit, fatigatamque nugis Utilibus recrearcmentem. DR. JOHNSON. CHAPTER XLYII. P. I. p. 111. DONCASTRIANA. GUY ! S DEATH. SEARCH FOR HIS TOMBSTONE IN INGf.KTON CHURCHYARD. Go to the dull churchyard and see Those hillocks of mortality, Where proudest man is only found By a small hillock on the ground. TIXALL POETRY. CHAPTER XL VIII. P.I. p. 112. A FATHER'S MISGIVINGS CONCERNING HIS SON'S DESTINATION. PETER HOPKINs'S GENEROSITY. DANIEL IS SENT ABROAD TO GRADUATE IN MEDICINE. Heaven is the magazine wherein He puts Both good and evil ; Prayer's the key that shuts And opens this great treasure : 'tis a key Whose wards are Faith and Hopp and Charity. Wouldst thou prevent a judgement due to sin ? Turn but the key r.nd thou mayst lock it in. Or wouldst thou have a blessing fall upon thee? Open the door, and it will shower on thee ! QUARLES. CHAPTER XLIX. p. 113. CONCERNING THE INTEREST WHICH DANIEL THE ELDER TOOK EN THE DUTCH WAR, AND MORE ESPECIALLY IN THE SIEGE AND PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERY OF LEYDEN. Glory to Thee in thine omnipotence, O Lord who art our shield and our defence, And dost dispense. As seemeth best to thine unerring will, (Which passeth mortal sense,) The lot of Victory still ; Edging sometimes with might the sword unjust ; And bowing >o the dust, The rightful cause, that so much seeming ill May thine appointed purposes fulfil ; Sometimes, (as in this late auspicious hour For which our hymns we raise,) Making the wicked feel thy present power ; Glory to thee and praise, Almighty God, by whom our strength was given ! Glory to Thee, 6 Lord of Earth and Heaven ! SOUTHEY. CHAPTER L. P.I. p. 115. VOYAGE TO ROTTERDAM AND LEYDEN. THE AUTHOR CANNOT TARRY TO DESCRIBE THAT CITY. WHAT HAPPENED THERE TO DANIEL DOVE. He took great content, exceeding delight in that his voyage. As who doth not that shall attempt the like ? For peregrination charms our senses with such unspeak- able and sweet variety, that some count him unhappy that never travelled, a kind of prisoner, and pity his case that from his cradle to his old age he beholds the same still ; still, still, the same, the same ! BURTON. CHAPTER LI. P.I. p.117. ARMS OF LEYDEN. DANIEL DOVE, M. D. A LOVE STORY, STRANGE BUT TRUE. Oye el extrano caso, advierte y siente ; Suceso es ran, mas verdad ha sido. BALBUENA. CONTEXTS. xxi CHAPTER LII. P. I. p. 118. SHOWING HOW THE YOUNG STUDENT FELL IN LOVE AND HOW HE MADE THE BEST USE OF HIS MISFORTUNE. // creder, donne vagfie, i cortesia, Quando colui che scrive o chefavella, Possa essere sospetto di bugia, Per dir qualcosa Iroppo rara e bella. Dunque ctii ascolla questa istnria mea E non la crertc frottola o novella Ma cosa vera come ella e difatto, Fa che di lui mi cfiiami soddisfatto E pure che mi diate pienafede, De la dubbiezza allrui poco mi cole. RlCCIARDETTO. CHAPTER LIII. P. I. p. 120. OF THE VARIOUS WAYS OF GETTING IN LOVE. A CHAPTER CONTAINING SOME USEFUL OBSER- VATIONS, AND SOME BEAUTIFUL POETRY. Let cavillers know, that as the Lord John answered the Queen in that Italian Guazzo, an old, a grave discreet man is fittest to discourse of love-matters ; because he hath likely more experience, observed more, hath a more staid judgement, can better discern, resolve, discuss, advise, give better cautions and more solid precepts, better in- form his auditors in such a subject, and by reason of his riper years, sooner divert. BURTON. CHAPTER LIV. P. I. p. 121. MORE CONCERNING LOVE AND MARRIAGE, AND MARRIAGE WITHOUT LOVE. Nay Cupid, pitch thy trammel where thou please, Thou canst not fail to catch such fish as these. QUARLES. CHAPTER LV. P. I. p. 128. THE AUTHOR'S LAST VISIT TO DONCASTER. Fuere quondam hcec sedfuere ; Nunc ubi sint, rogitas ? Id annos Scire has oportet scilicet. bonce MUSK, O Lepores Charlies merce! Ogauiiia offuscata nuilis Litibusl O sine nube soles ! JANUS DOUZA. CHAPTER LVI. P.I. p. 124. A TRUCE WITH MELANCHOLY. GENTLEMEN SUCH AS THEY WERE IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1747. A HINT TO YOUNG LADIES CONCERNING THEIR GREAT-GRANDMOTHERS. Fashions that are now called new, Have been worn by more than you ; Elder times have used the same, Though these new ones get the name. MlDDLXTON. CHAPTER LVII. P. I. p. 126. AN ATTEMPT IS MADE TO REMOVE THE UN- PLEASANT IMPRESSION PRODUCED UPON THE LADIES BY THE DOCTOR'S TYE-WIG AND HIS SUIT OF SNUFF-COLOURED DITTOS. So full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical. TWELFTH NIGHT. CHAPTER LVIII. P. I. p. 12G. CONCERNING THE PORTRAIT OF DR. DANIEL DOVE. The sure traveller Though he alight sometimes still goeth on. HERBERT. CHAPTER LIX. P. I. p. 128. SHOWING WHAT THAT QUESTION WAS, WHICH WAS ANSWERED BEFORE IT WAS ASKED. Chacun a son stile ; le mien, comme vouz voyez, n'est pas laconique. HE. DE SEVIGNK. CHAPTER LX. P. I. p. 128. SHOWING CAUSE WHY THE QUESTION WHICH WAS NOT ASKED OUGHT TO BE ANSWERED. Nay in troth I talk but coarsely, But I hold it comfortable for the understanding. BEAUMONT and FLETCHER. CHAPTER LXI. P. I. p. 130. WHEREIN THE QUESTION IS ANSWERED WHICH OUGHT TO HAVE BEEN ASKED. Ajutami, tu penna, et calamaio, Ch,' to fid tra matto una materia asciutta. MATTIO FRANZESI. CHAPTER LXII. p. 132. IN WHICH IS RELATED THE DISCOVERY OF A CERTAIN PORTRAIT AT DONCASTER. Call in the Barber ! If the tale be long He'll cut it short, I trust. WIDDLETON. CHAPTER LXIIL p. 133. A DISCUSSION CONCERNING THE QUESTION LAST PROPOSED. Questo i bene un de' piu profondi passi Che not habbiamo ancora oggi tentato ; E non i mica da huomini bassi. AGNUOLO FIRENZCOLA. CHAPTER LXIV. p. 135. DEFENCE OF PORTRAIT-PAINTING. A SYSTEM OF MORAL COSMETICS RECOMMENDED TO THE LADIES. GWILLIM. SIR T. LAWRENCE. GEORGE WITHER. APPLICATION TO THE SUBJECT OF THIS WORK. Pingitur in tabulii formce peritura vcnustas, Vivat ut in tabulis, quod peril in facie. OWEN. CHAPTER LXV. p. 137. SOCIETY OF A COUNTRY TOWN. SUCH A TOWN A MORE FAVOURABLE HABITAT FOR SUCH A PERSON AS DR. DOVE THAN LONDON WOULD HAVE BEEN. Be then thine own home, and in thyself dwell ; Inn any where; And seeing the snail, which every where doth roam, Carrying his own home still, still is at home, Follow (for he is easy paced) this snail ; Be thine own Palace, or the World's thy jail. DONNE XX11 CONTENTS. CHAPTER LXVI. p. 139. MR. COPLEY OF NETHERHALL. SOCIETY AT HIS HOUSE. DRUMMOND. BURGH, GRAY. MASON. MILLER THE ORGANIST AND HISTORIAN OF DONCASTER. HERSCHEL. All worldly joys go less To the one joy of doing kindnesses. HERBERT. CHAPTER LXVII. p. 140. A MYTHOLOGICAL STORY MORALISED. Ilfaut mettre let fables en presse pour en tirer quelque sue de t'crite. GARASSE. CHAPTER LXVIIL p. 144. ECCENTRIC PERSONS, WHY APPARENTLY MORE COMMON IN ENGLAND THAN IN OTHER COUN- TRIES. HARRY BINGLEY. Blest are those Whose blood and judgement are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. HAMLET. CHAPTER LXIX. p. 147. A MUSICAL RECLUSE AND HIS SISTER. Some proverb maker, I forget who, says, " God hath given to some men wisdom and understanding, and to others the art of playing on the fiddle." Professor PARK'S Dogmas of the Constitution. CHAPTER LXX. p. 148. SHOWING THAT ANY HONEST OCCUPATION IS BETTER THAN NONE, BUT THAT OCCUPATIONS WHICH ARE DEEMED HONOURABLE ARE NOT ALWAYS HONEST. J'aipeine d- concevoir pourquoi le pl&part des homines ont ttne it forte envie d'etre heureux, el une si grande incapacite pour le devenir. VOYAGES DE MILORD CETON. CHAPTER LXXI. p. 150. TRANSITION IN OUR NARRATIVE PREPARATORY TO A CHANGE IN THE DOCTOR'S LIFE. A SAD STORY SUPPRESSED. THE AUTHOR PROTESTS AGAINST PLAYING WITH THE FEELINGS OF HIS READERS. ALL ARE NOT MERRY THAT SEEM MIRTHFUL. THE SCAFFOLD A STAGE. DON RODRIGO CALDERON. THISTLEWOOD. THE WORLD A MASQUERADE, BUT THE DOCTOR ALWAYS IN HIS OWN CHARACTER. This breaks no rule of order. If order were infringed then should I flee From my chief purpose, and my mark should miss. Order is Nature's beauty, and the way To Order is by rules that Art hath found. GWILLIM. CHAPTER LXXII. p. 154. IN WHICH THE FOURTH OF THE QUESTIONS PRO- POSED IN CHAPTER II. P. I. IS BEGUN TO BE ANSWERED ; SOME OBSERVATIONS UPON AN- CESTRY ARE INTRODUCED, AND THE READER IS INFORMED WHY THE AUTHOR DOES NOT WEAR A CAP AND BELLS. Boast not the titles of your ancestors, Brave youths ! they're their possessions, none of yours. When your own virtues equall'il have their names, 'Twill be but fair to lean upon their fames, For they are strong supporters ; but till then The greatest are but growing gentlemen. BEN JONSON. CHAPTER LXXIIL p. 156. RASH MARRIAGES. AN EARLY WIDOWHOOD. AF- FLICTION RENDERED A BLESSING TO THE SUF- FERER ; AND TWO ORPHANS LEFT, THOUGH NOT DESTITUTE, YET FRIENDLESS. Love built a stately house; where Fortune came, And spinning fancies, she was heard to say That her fine cobwebs did support the frame ; Whereas they were supported by the same. But Wisdom quickly swept them all away. HERBERT. CHAPTER LXXIV. p. 157. A LADY DESCRIBED WHOSE SINGLE LIFE WAS NO BLESSEDNESS EITHER TO HERSELF OR OTHERS. A VERACIOUS EPITAPH AND AN AP- PROPRIATE MONUMENT. Beauty ! my Lord, 'tis the worst part of woman ! A weak poor thing, assaulted every hour By creeping minutes of defacing time ; A superficies which each breath of care Blasts off; and every humorous stream of grief Which flows from forth these fountains of our eyes, Washeth away, as rain doth winter's snow. GOFF. CHAPTER LXXV. p. 159. A SCENE WHICH WILL PUT SOME OF THOSE READERS WHO HAVE BEEN MOST IMPATIENT WITH THE AUTHOR, IN THE BEST HUMOUR WITH HLM. There is no argument of more antiquity and elegancy than is the matter of Love ; for it seems to be as old as the world, and to bear date from the first time that man and woman was: therefore in this, as in the finest metal, the freshest wits have in all ages shown their best work- manship. ROBERT WILMOT. CHAPTER LXXVL p. 160. A STORY CONCERNING CUPID WHICH NOT ONE READER IN TEN THOUSAND HAS EVER HEARD BEFORE; A DEFENCE OF LOVE WHICH WILL BE VERY SATISFACTORY TO THE LADIES. They do lie, Lie grossly who say Love is blind : by him And heaven they lie ! he has a sight can pierce Thro' ivory, as clear as it were horn, And reach his object. BEAUMONT and FLETCHER. CONTENTS. XXHl CHAPTER LXXVIL p. 163. MORE CONCERNING LOVE AND THE DREAM OF LIFE. Happy the bonds that hold ye ; Sure they be sweeter far than liberty. There is no blessedness but in such bondage ; Happy that happy chain ; such links are heavenly. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. INTERCHAPTER VII. p. 164. OBSOLETE ANTICIPATIONS ; BEING A LEAF OUT OF AN OLD ALMANACK, WHICH LIKE OTHER OLD ALMANACKS THOUGH OUT OF DATE IS NOT OUT OF USE. If You play before me, I shall often look on you, I give you that warning before hand. Take it not ill, my masters, I shall laugh at you, And truly when I am least offended with you ; It is my humour. MIDDLETON. INTERCHAPTER VIII. p. 167. A LEAF OUT OF THE NEW ALMANACK. THE AU- THOR THINKS CONSIDERATELY OF HIS COMMEN- TATORS ; RUMINATES; RELATES AN ANECDOTE OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE ; QUOTES SOME PYRAMIDAL STANZAS, WHICH ARE NOT THE WORSE FOR THEIR ARCHITECTURE, AND DE- LIVERS AN OPINION CONCERNING BURNS. To smell a turf of fresh earth is wholesome for the body; no less are thoughts of mortality cordial to the Soul. " Earth thou art, to earih thou shall return." FULLER. IXTERCHAPTER IX. p. 169. AN ILLUSTRATION FOR THE ASSISTANCE OF THE COMMENTATORS DRAWN FROM THE HISTORY OF THE KORAN. REAIARKS WHICH ARE NOT IN- TENDED FOR MUSSELMEN, AND WHICH THE MISSIONARIES IN THE MEDITERRANEAN ARE ADVISED NOT TO TRANSLATE. You will excuse me if I do not strictly confine myself to narration ; but now and then intersperse such reflections as may offer while I am writing. JOHN NEWTON. IXTERCHAPTER X. p. 171. MORE ON THE FOREGOING SUBJECT. ELUCIDA- TIONS FROM HENRY MORE AND DR. WATTS. AN INCIDENTAL OPINION UPON HORACE WALPOLE. THE STREAM OF THOUGHT " FLOWETH AT ITS OWN SWEET WILL." PICTURES AND BOOKS. A SAYING OF MR. PITT'S CONCERNING WILBER- FORCK. THE AUTHOR EXPLAINS IN WHAT SENSE IT MIGHT BE SAID THAT HE SOMETIMES SHOOTS WITH A LONG BOW. Vorrei, disse il Signor (jaspnro Pallavicino, cJie voi raxionassi un poco pin minutamente di questo, che non fate ; che in vero vi tenete molto at gent-rale, el quasi ci mostrute Ic cose per transito. IL CGKTEGIANO. CHAPTER LXXVIII. p. 174. AMATORY POETRY NOT ALWAYS OF THE WISEST KIND. AN ATTEMPT TO CONVEY SOME NOTION OF ITS QUANTITY. TRUE LOVE THOUGH NOT IN EVERY CASE THE BEST POET, THE BEST MORA- LIST ALWAYS. El Amor es tan ingenioso, qur en mi opinion, maspoetas ha hecho el solo, que la misma naturaleza. PEREZ DE MO.NTALVAN. CHAPTER LXXIX. p. 177. AN EARLY BEREAVEMENT. TRUE LOVE ITS OWN COMFORTER. A LONELY FATHER AND AN ONLY CHILD. Read ye that run the aweful truth, With which 1 charge my page ; A worm is in the bud of youth, And at the root of age. COWPER. CHAPTER LXXX. p. 178. OBSERVATIONS WHICH SHOW THAT WHATEVER PRIDE MEN MAY TAKE IN THE APPELLATIONS THEY ACQUIRE IN THEIR PROGRESS THROUGH THE WORLD, THEIR DEAREST NAME DIES BEFORE THEM. Thus they who reach Grey hairs, die piecemeal. SOCTHEY. CHAPTER LXXXI. p. 179. A QUESTION WHETHER LOVE SHOULD BE FAITHFUL TO THE DEAD. DOUBTS ADVANCED AND CASES STATED. even in spite of death, yet still my choice, Oft with the inward all-beholding eye 1 think I see thee, and I hear thy voice ! LORD STEBLINE. CHAPTER LXXXIL p. 181. THE DOCTOR IS INTRODUCED, BY THE SMALL POX, TO HIS FUTURE WIFE. Long-waiting love doth entrance find Into the slow-believing mind. SYDNEY GODOLPHIN. CHAPTER LXXXIII. p. 182. THE AUTHOR REQUESTS THE READER NOT TO BE IMPATIENT. SHOWS FROM LORD SHAFTESBURY AT WHAT RATE A JUDICIOUS WRITER OUGHT TO PROCEED. DISCLAIMS PROLIXITY FOR HIMSELF, AND GIVES EXAMPLES OF IT IN A GERMAN PRO- FESSOR, A JEWISH RABBI, AND TWO COUNSEL- LORS, ENGLISH AND AMERICAN. Pand. He that will have a cuke out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding. Troilus. Have I not tarried ? Pand. Ay, the grinding ; but you must tarry the bolting. Troilus. Have I not tarried ? XXIV CONTENTS. Pand. Ay, the bolting ; but you must tarry the leaven- ing. Troilus. Still have I tarried. Pand. Ay, to the leavening : but here's yet in the word hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, arid the baking. Nay, you must stay the cooling too ; or you may chance to burn your lips. THOILCS AND CRESSIDA. CHAPTER LXXXIV. p. 184. A LOOP DROPPED IN THE FOREGOING CHAPTER IS HERE TAKEN UP. Enobarbus. Every time Serves for the matter that is then born in it. Lepidus. But small to greater matters must give way. Enobarbus. Not if the email come first. SHAKESPEARE. CHAPTER LXXXV. p. 184. THE DOCTOR'S CONTEMPORARIES AT LEYDEN. EARLY FRIENDSHIP. COWPER's MELANCHOLY OBSERVATION THAT GOOD DISPOSITIONS ARE MORE LIKELY TO BE CORRUPTED THAN EVIL ONES TO BE CORRECTED. YOUTHFUL CONNEC- TIONS LOOSENED IN THE COMMON COURSE OF THINGS. A FINE FRAGMENT BY WALTER LANDOR. Lass mich den Stunde gedenken, und jedes kleinercn unstands. Ach, wer ruft nicht so gern unwiederbringlicfies an ! Jcnei sUsse Gedrange der leichtesten irdischen Tage, Ach, wer sch'dtzt ihn genug, diesen vcreilenden Werlh ! Kit in erscheinet et nun, duett ach! nicht kleinlich dem Henen; Mac/it die Liebe, die Kuntt,jegliches Heine doch gross. GOETHE. CHAPTER LXXXVL p. 188. PETER HOPKINS. REASONS FOR SUPPOSING THAT HE WAS AS GOOD A PRACTITIONER AS ANY IN ENGLAND; THOUGH NOT THE BEST. THE FITTEST 3IASTER FOR DANIEL DOVE. HIS SKILL IN ASTROLOGY. Que sea Medico mas grave Quien mas aforismos sate, Ken puede ser. Mas que no sea mas ezperto El que mas huviere muerto, No puede ser. GONGORA. CHAPTER LXXXVIL p. 191. ASTROLOGY. ALMANACKS. PRISCILLIANI8M RE- TAINED IN THEM TO THIS TTME. I wander 'twixt the poles And heavenly hinges, 'mongst eccentricals, Centers, concentricks, circles and epicycles. ALBVMAZAR. CHAPTER LXXXVIII. p. 193. AN INCIDENT WHICH BRINGS THE AUTHOR INTO A FORTUITOUS RESEMBLANCE WITH THE PATRI- ARCH OF THE PREDICANT FRIARS. DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE FACT AND THE FABLE ; AND AN APPLICATION WHICH, UNLIKE THOSE THAT ARE USUALLY APPENDED TO ESOP'S FABLES, THE READER IS LIKELY NEITHEP. TO SKIP NOR TO FORGET. Dire aqui una maldad grande del Demonio. PEDRO DE CIECA DE LEON. CHAPTER LXXXIX. p. 194. A CHAPTER CHARACTERISTIC OF FRENCH ANTIQUA- RIES, FRENCH LADIES, FRENCH LAWYERS, FRENCH JUDGES, FRENCH LITERATURE, AND FRENCHXESS IN GENERAL. Quid dt: pulicibui ? vita; salientia puncta. COWLEY. CHAPTER XC. p. 199. WHEREIN THE CURIOUS READER MAY FIND SOME THINGS WHICH HE IS NOT LOOKING FOR, AND WHICH THE INCURIOUS ONE MAY SKIP IF HE PLEASES. Voulant doncques satisfaire a la curiosite de touts bans cumpagnons,fay revolve toutes les Pantarches des Cieux, cnlcule les quadrats de la Lune, crochete lout ce que jamais penserent touts les Astrophiles, Hypernephelistes, Anemophylaces, Uranupetes et Ombropftores. RABELAIS. CHAPTER XCI. p. 202. THE AUTHOR DISPLAYS A LITTLE MORE OF SUCH READING AS IS SELDOM READ, AND SHOWS THAT LORD BYRON AND AN ESSEX WIDOW DIFFERED IN OPINION CONCERNING FRIDAY. Sifavois disperse cecien divers e ndroits de man ovvrage, j'aurois evile la censure de ceux qui appclleront ce chnpitre un fatrat de petit recucils. Mais comme je cherche la commodite de m, s lecleurs plulot que la mienne, je veux bien au depens de cette censure, leur epargner la peine de rassembler ce que j'aurois dispen&. BAYLE. CHAPTER XCIL p. 206. CONCERNING PETER HOPKINS AND THE INFLUENCE OF THE MOON AND TIDES UPON THE HUMAN BODY. A CHAPTER WHICH SOME PERSONS MAY DEEM MORE CURIOUS THAN DULL, AND OTHERS MORE DULL THAN CURIOUS. A man that travelleth to the most desirable home, hath a habit of desire to it all the way ; but his present business is his travel; and horse, and company, and inns, and ways, and weariness, &c., may take up more of his sensible thoughts, and of his talk and action, than his home. BAXTER. CHAPTER XCIIL p. 210. REMARKS OF AN IMPATIENT READER ANTICIPATED AND ANSWERED. T fi Ov anj, auxi-r' oi&i* ; SOPHOCLES. CONTENTS. CHAPTER XCIV. p. 213. THE AUTHOR DISCOVERS CERTAIN MUSICAL, COR- RESPONDENCIES TO THESE HIS LUCUBRATIONS. And music mild I learn 'd that tells Tune, time and measure to the song. HIGGINS. CHAPTER XCV. p. 214. WHKREIN MENTION IS MADE OF LORD BYRON, RONSAHD, RABBI KAPOL AND CO. IT IS SUG- GESTED THAT A MODE OP READING THE STARS HAS BEEN APPLIED TO THE RECOVERY OF OBLITERATED ROMAN INSCRIPTIONS ; AND IT IS SHOWN THAT A MATHEMATICIAN MAY REASON MATHEMATICALLY, AND YET LIKE A FOOL. Thus may ye behold This man is very bold, And in his learning old Intendeth for to sit. I blame him not a whit ; For it would vex his wit, And clean against his earning To follow such learning As now-a-days is taught. DOCTOCR DOUBLE- ALE. CHAPTER XCVL p. 217. A MUSICIAN'S WISH EXCITED BY HERSCHEL'S TELESCOPE. SYMPATHY BETWEEN PETER HOP- KINS AND HIS PUPIL. INDIFFERENTISM USEFUL IN ORDINARY POLITICS, BUT DANGEROUS IN RELIGION. 2foi intendiamo parlare alls cose che ulile sono alia umana vita, quanta per noslro intendimento si potra in questa parts comprendere ; e sopra quelle particelle die dctlo avemo di comporre. BUSONE DA GUBBIO. CHAPTER XCVIL p. 220. MR. BACON'S PARSONAGE. CHRISTIAN RESIGNA- TION. TIME AND CHANGE. W1LKXE AND THE MONK IN THE ESCURIAL. The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination ; And every lovely organ of her life Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, More moving delicate, and full of life, Into the eye and prospect of his soul, Than when she lived indeed. SHAKESPEARE. CHAPTER XCVIII. p. 222. CHRISTIAN CONSOLATION. OPINIONS CONCERNING THE SPIRITS OF THE DEAD. The voice which 1 did more esteem Than music in her sweetest key ; Those eyes which unto me did seem More comfortable than the day ; Those now by me, as they have b^en, Shall never more be heard, or seen ; But what I once enjoyed in them, Shall seem hereafter as a dream. All earthly comforts vanish thus ; So little hold of them have we, That we from them, or they from us, May in a moment ravished be. Yet we are neither just nor wise, If present mercies we despise ; Or mind not how there may be made A thankful use of what we had. WITHER. CHAPTER XCIX. p. 224. A COUNTRY PARISH. SOME WHOLESOME EXTRACTS, SOME TRUE ANECDOTES, AND SOME USEFUL HINTS, WHICH WILL NOT BE TAKEN BY THOSE WHO NEED THEM MOST. Non e iticonvcniente, che delie cose delettabili alcune ne sieno utili, cost come delt utili molte ne sono delettabili, el in ttitte due alcune si truovano honeste. LEONE MEDICO (HEBREO). .CHAPTER C. p. 227. SHOWING HOW THE VICAR DEALT WITH THE JUVENILE PART OF HIS FLOCK; AND HOW HE WAS OF OPINION THAT THE MORE PLEASANT THE WAY IS WHICH CHILDREN ARE TRAINED UP TO GO CAN BE MADE FOR THEM, THE LESS LIKELY THEY WILL BE TO DEPART FROM IT. Sweet were the sauce would please each kind of taste, The life, likewise, were pure that never swerved ; For spiteful tongues, in cankered stomachs placed, Deem worst of things which best, percase, deserved. But what for that '< This medicine may suffice, To scorn the rest, and seek to please the wise. SIR WALTER RALEIGH. CHAPTER CI. p. 229. SOME ACCOUNT OF A RETIRED TOBACCONIST AND HIS FAMILY. Nonfumum exjulgore, sed exfumo dare lucent. HORACE. LNTERCHAPTER XI. p. 231. ADVICE TO CERTAIN READERS INTENDED TO AS- SIST THEIR DIGESTION OF THESE VOLUMES. Take this in good part, whatsoever thou be, And wish me no worse than I wish unto thee. TUSSER. CHAPTER CIL p. 232. MORE CONCERNING THE AFORESAID TOBACCONIST. I doubt nothing at all but that you shall like the man every day better than other ; for verily I think he lacketh not of those qualities which should become any honest man to have, over and besides the gift of nature wherewith God hath above the common rate endued him. ARCHBISHOP CHANMER. XXVI CONTENTS. CHAPTER CIII. p. 236. A FEW PARTICULARS CONCERNING NO. 113. BISHOPSGATE STREET WITHIN ; AND OP THE FAMILY AT THAXTED GRANGE. Opinion is the rate of things, From hence our peace doth flow ; I have a better fate than kings, Because 1 think it so. KATHARINB PHILIPS. CHAPTER CIV. p. 239. A REMARKABLE EXAMPLE, SHOWING THAT A AVISE MAN, WHEN HE RISES IN THE MORNING, LITTLE KNOWS WHAT HE MAY DO BEFOP.E NIGHT. Now I love, And so as in so short a time I may ; Yet so as time shall never break that so, And therefore so accept of Elino- ROBERT GREENE. CHAPTER CV. p. 242. A WORD OF NOBS, AND AN ALLUSION TO C.ESAR. SOME CIRCUMSTANCES RELATING TO THE DOC- TOR'S SECOND LOVE, WHEREBY THOSE OF HIS THIRD AND LAST ARE ACCOUNTED FOR. Un mal que se entra par media los ojos, Y va se derecho hasla el corazon ; Alii en ser llegado se lorna ajicion, Y da mil pesares, plnzeres y enojos; Causa alt-grins, tristezas, antojos ; Haze Uorar, y haze reir. Haze cantor, y haze planir ; Da pensamientos dos mil a manojos. QUESTION DE AMOR. INTERCHAPTER XII. p. 245. THE AUTHOR REGRETS THAT HE CANNOT MAKE HIMSELF KNOWN TO CERTAIN READERS ; STATES THE POSSIBLE REASONS FOR HIS SECRESY ; MAKES NO USE IN SO DOING OF THE LICENCE WHICH HE SEEMS TO TAKE OUT IN HIS MOTTO ; AND STATING THE PRETENCES WHICH HE AD- VANCES FOR HIS WORK, DISCLAIMING THE WHILE ALL MERIT FOR HIMSELF, MODESTLY PRESENTS THEM UNDER A GRECIAN VEIL. "EitBa yaj n Sli fylvSof \iyiadau fayicrOa. HERODOTUS. INTERCHAPTER XIII. p. 247. A PEEP FROM BEHIND THE CURTAIN. Ha, ha. ha, now ye will make me to smile, To see if 1 can all men beguile. Ha, my name, my name would ye so fain know ? Yea, I wis, shall ye, and that with all speed. I have forgot it, therefore 1 cannot show. A, a, now I have it ! I have it indeed ' My name is Ambidexter, I signify one That with both hands finely tan play. KING CAMBYSES. CHAPTER CVL p. 249. THE AUTHOR APOSTROPHISES SOME OF HIS FAIR READERS; LOOKS FARTHER THAN THEY ARE LIKELY TO DO, AND GIVES THEM A JUST THOUGH MELANCHOLY EXHORTATION TO BE CHEERFUL WHILE THEY SIAY. Hark how the birds do sing, And woods do ring ! All creatures have their joy, and Man hath his : Yet if we rightly measure, Man's joy and pleasure Rather hereafter, than in present ia. HERBERT. CHAPTER CVII p. 250. THE AUTHOR INTRODUCES HIS READERS TO A RE- TIRED DUCHESS, AND SUGGESTS A PARALLEL BETWEEN HER GRACE AND THE RETIRED TO- BACCONIST. In midst of plenty only to embrace Calm patience, is not worthy of your praise ; But he that can look sorrow in the face And not be daunted, he deserves the bays. This is prosperity, where'er we find A heavenly solace in an earthly mind. Hi'GH CROMPTON. CHAPTER CYIIL p.256. PERCY LODGE. THAXTED GRANGE. RAPIN THE JESUIT AND SIR THOMAS BKOWNE. It seems that you take pleasure in these walks, Sir. Cleanthes. Contemplative content I do, my Lord ; They bring into my mind oft meditations So sweetly precious, that in the parting 1 find a shower of grace upon my cheeks, They take their leave so feelingly. MASSINGER. INTERCHAPTER XIV. p. 259. CONCERNING INTERCHAPTERS. If we present a mingle-mangle, our fault is to be ex- cused, because the whole world is become a hodge-podge. LYLY. CHAPTER CIX. p.263. INCIDENTAL MENTION OF HAMMOND, SIR EDMUND KING, JOANNA BAILLIE, SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, AND MR. THOMAS PEREGRINE COUHTENAY. PETER COLLINSON AN ACQUAINTANCE OF MB. ALLISON'S. HOLIDAYS AT THAXTED GRANGE. And sure there seem of human kind Some born to shun the solemn strife ; Some for amusive tasks design'd To soothe the certain ills of life, Grace its lone vales with many a budding rose, New founts of bliss disclose, Call forth refreshing shades and decorate repose. SHENSTONB. CONTENTS. XXVll CHAPTER CX. p. 267. A TRANSITIONAL CHAPTER, WHEREIN THE AUTHOR COMPARES HIS BOOK TO AN OMNIBUS AND A SHIP, QUOTES SHAKESPEARE, MARCO ANTONIO DE CAM OS, QUARIJ5S, SPENSER, AND SOMEBODY ELSE, AND INTRODUCES HIS READERS TO SOME OF THE HEATHEN GODS, WITH WHOM PERHAPS THEY WERE NOT ACQUAINTED BEFORE. We are not to grudge such interstitial and transitional matter as may promote an easy connection of parts and an elastic separation of them, and keep the reader's mind upon springs as it were. HENRY TAYLOR'S Statesman. CHAPTER CXI. p. 268. CONCERNING MAGAZINES, AND THE FORMER AND PRESENT RACE OF ALPHABET-MEN. Altrigli han messo name Santa Croce, Altri lo chiaman I' A. B. C. guaslando La tniiura, gl' accenti, et la $ua voce. SANSOVINO. CHAPTER CXII. p. 270. HUNTING IN AN EASY CHAIR. THE DOCTOR'S BOOKS. That place that does contain My books, the best companions, is to me A glorious court, where hourly I converse With the old sages and philosophers ; And sometimes for variety I confer With Kings and Emperors, and weigh their counsels, Calling their victories, if unjustly got, Unto a strict account, and in my fancy Deface their ill-placed statues. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. CHAPTER CXIIL p. 271. THOMAS GENT AND ALICE GUY, A TRUE TALE, SHOWING THAT A WOMAN'S CONSTANCY WILL NOT ALWAYS HOLD OUT LONGER THAN TROY TOWN, AND YET THE WOMAN MAY NOT BE THE PABTY WHO IS MOST IN FAULT. lo dfco, non dimando Quel che tu nuoi udir, perch' io I' ho visto Ove s' appunta ogtii ubi, e ogni quando. DANTE. CHAPTER CXIV. p. 276. THE AUTHOR HINTS AT CERTAIN CIRCUMSTANCES IN THE LIFE OF THOMAS GENT ON WHICH HE DOES NOT THINK IT NECESSARY TO DWELL. Round white stones will serve they say, As well as eggs, to make hens lay. BUTLER. CHAPTER CXV. p. 279. THE READER IS REMINDED OF PRINCE ABINO JA3SIMA AND THE FOX-LADY. GENT NOT LIKE JOB, NOR MRS. GENT LIKE JOB'S WIFE. A me parrebbe a la storia far tor to, S' io non aggiwigo qualche codicillo ; Accid che ognun chi Ifgge, benedica L' ultimo fffMo dc la miafatica. Pixel. CHAPTER CXVL p. 281. DR. SOUTHEY. JOHN BUNYAN. BARTHOLOMEWS SCHER.EUS. TERTULLJAN. DOMENICO BERNINO. PETRARCH. JEREMY TAYLOR. HARTLEY COLE- RIDGE. DIEGO DE SAN PEDRO, AND ADAM LITTLETON. Black spirits and white, red spirits and gray ; Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may. Titty, Tiffin, keep it stiff in ! Firedrake, Puckey, make it lucky ! Liard, Robin, you must bob in ! Round, around, around, about, about ! All good come running in, all ill keep out. MIDDLETON. CHAPTER CXVIL p.284 CONCERNING JOB'S WIFE. This insertion is somewhat long, and utterly imper- tinent to the principal matter, and makes a great gap in the tale ; nevertheless is no disgrace, but rather a beauty and to very good purpose. TOTTENHAM. CHAPTER CXVIII. p.288. POINTS OF SIMILITUDE AND DISSIMILITUDE BE- TWEEN SIR THOMAS BROWNE AND DOCTOB DOVE. But in these serious works designed To mend the morals of mankind, We must for ever be disgraced With all the nicer sons of taste, If once the shadow to pursue We let the substance out of view. Our means must uniformly tend In due proportion to their end, And every passage aptly join To bring about the one design. CHURCHILL LNTERCHAPTER XV. p. 290. THE AUTHOR RECOMMENDS A CERTAIN WELL- KNOWN CHARACTER AS A CANDIDATE FOR HONOURS, BOTH ON THE SCORE OF HIS FAMILY AND HIS DESERTS. HE NOTICES ALSO OTHER PERSONS WHO HAVE SIMILAR CLAIMS. Thoricht, auf Bessrung der Thoren zu harren ! Kinder der klugheit, o habet die Narren Eben zum Narren auch, tcie tich't gehort. GOETHE. CHAPTER CXIX. p. 292. THE DOCTOR IN HIS CURE. IRRELIGION THE RE- PROACH OF HIS PROFESSION. Virtue, and that part of philosophy Will I apply, that treats of happiness By virtue specially to be achieved. TAMING OF THE SHREW. CHAPTER CXX. p. 294. EFFECT OF MEDICAL STUDIES ON DIFFERENT DIS- POSITIONS. JEW PHYSICIANS, ESTIMATION AND ODIUM IN WHICH THEY WERE HELD. Conjiesso la digression , masesfacilal que no quisiere leerla, passar al capitulo tiguienle, y esta advertencia lirva dc disculpa. Luis MUNOZ. xxvm CONTENTS. CHAPTER CXXL p. 297. WHEREIN IT APPEARS THAT SANCHO'S PHYSICIAN AT BARATARIA ACTED ACCORDING TO PRECE- DENTS AND PRESCRIBED LAWS. Letter, tu vedi ben com' io innalxo La mia materia, eperd con piu arte Kon ti maravigliar i' f la rincalzo. DANTE. CHAPTER CXXII. p.300. A CHAPTER WHEREIN STUDENTS IN SURGERY MAY FIND SOME FACTS WHICH WERE NEW TO THEM IN THE HISTORY OF THEIR OWN PROFESSION. If I have more to spin The wheel shall g >. HERBERT. CHAPTER CXXIIL p. 303. SOME ALLUSION TO, AND SOME USE OF THE FIGURE OF SPEECH CALLED PARENTHESIS. fecrirai id met pensees tans ordre, et non pas peut- gtre dam une confusion sans dessein ; c'est If veritable ordre, et qui marquera tovjours man objetpar le desordre meme. PASCAL. CHAPTER CXXIV. p.306. THE AUTHOR MORALISES UPON THE VANITY OF FAME ; AND WISHES THAT HE HAD BOSWELLISED WHILE IT WAS IN HIS POWER TO HAVS DONE SO. Mucho tengo que llorar, Mucho tengo que reir. GONGORA. CHAPTER CXXV. p. 309. FAME IN THE BOROUGH ROAD. THE AUTHOR DANIELISES. Due, Puma, Due me insolenti tramite ; devius Tentabo inaccessos profanis Invidite pedibus recessus. VINCENT BOURNE. CHAPTER CXXVL p. 313. MB. BAXTER'S OFFICES. MILLER'S CHARACTER OF MASON ; WITH A FEW REMARKS IN VINDICATION OF GRAY'S FRIEND AND THE DOCTOR'S AC- QUAINTANCE. Te snnare quis mihi Genique vim dabil tui? Stylo quis tequor fiocce arare chartettm, Et area per papyrirut Satu loquace seminare literal f JANUS DODSA. CHAPTER CXXVIL p. 318. THE DOCTOR'S THEORY OF PROGRESSIVE EXIST- ENCE. Quam multie pecudes humano in corpore virunt ! PALISGENIUS. CHAPTER CXXVIII. p. 320. ELUCIDATIONS OF THE COLUMBIAN THEORY. Thou almost makest me waver in my faith, To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men. MERCHANT OF VENICE. CHAPTER CXXIX. p. 326. WHEREIN THE AUTHOR SPEAKS OF A TRAGEDY FOR THE LADIES, AND INTRODUCES ONE OF WILLIAM DOVE'S STORIES FOR CHILDREN. Ydondesobre todo de sa dueTio El gran tesoro y el caudal se infiere, Es que al grande, al mediano, y al pequcno, Todo sedade balde d quien io quiere. BALBUENA. THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS. p. 327. A tale which may content the minds Of learned men and grave philosophers. GASCOYNE. CHAPTER CXXX. p. 330. CHILDREN AND KITTENS. APHORISMS ASCRIBED TO THE LAUREATE, DR. SOUTHEY. MORE COLUM- BIAN PHILOSOPHY. Oh ! if in after life we could but gather The very refuse of our youthful hours ! CHARLES LLOYD. CHAPTER CXXXI. p. 331. THE DOCTOR ABSTAINS FROM SPECULATING ON PERILOUS SUBJECTS. A STORY OF ST. AXSELM. This 6eld is so spacious, that it were easy for a man to lose himself in it ; and if I should spend all my pilgrimage in this walk, my time would sooner end than my way. BISHOP HALL. CHAPTER CXXXIL p. 333. DR. CADOGAN. A REMARKABLE CASE OF HEREDI- TARY LONGEVITY. REMARKS ON THE ORDINARY TERM OF HUMAN LIFE. I,.ve well, and then how soon so e'er thou die, Thou art of age to claim eternity. RANDOLPH. CHAPTER CXXXIII. p.334 MORE THOUGHTS CONCERNING LIFE, DEATH AND IMMORTALITY. Clericus es ? legito hiec. Laicus ? legito ista libenter. Crede mihi, invenies hie quod uterquc volet. D. Uu.-TR. MED. CHAPTER CXXXTV. p. 337. A TRANSITION, AN ANECDOTE, AN APOSTROPHE, AND A PUN, PUNNET, OR PUNDIGRION. Esl brevitate opus, ut currat sententia, n< u se Impediatverbii lassos onerantibus aures ; Etsermone opus est, modo tristi, stcpejocoso. HORACE. CONTENTS. CHAPTER CXXXV. p. 338. REGINALD HEBER. A MISTAKE OBVIATED, WHICH MIGHT OTHERWISE EASILY BE MADE. Perhaps some Gull, as witty as a Goose, Says with a coy skew look, " it's pretty, pretty ! But yet that so much wit he should di-'pose For so small purpose, faith " saith he, " 'tis pity ! " DAVIES OP HEREFORD- CHAPTER CXXXVI. p. 339. THE PEDIGREE AND BIRTH OF NOBS, GIVEN IN REPLY TO THE FIRST QUERY IN THE SECOND CHAPTER P. I. Theo. Look to my Horse, I pray you, well. Diego. He shall, Sir. Inc. Oh ! how beneath his rank and call was that now ! Your Horse shall be entreated as becomes A Horse of fashion, and his inches. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. IXTERCHAPTER XVI. p. 340. THE AUTHOR RELATES SOME ANECDOTES, REFERS TO AN OPINION EXPRESSED BY A CRITIC ON THE PRESENT OPUS, AND DESCANTS THEREON. Every man can say B to a battledore, and write in praise of virtue and the seven liberal sciences ; thresh corn out of full sheaves, and fetch water out of the Thames. But out of dry stubble to make an after-harvest, and a plenti- ful crop without sowing, and wring juice out of a flint, that is Pierce a God's name, and the right trick of a workman. NASH. CHAPTER CXXXVII. p.345. DIFFERENCE OF OPINION BETWEEN THE DOCTOR AND NICHOLAS CONCERNING THE HIPPOGONY, OR ORIGIN OF THE FOAL DROPPED IN THE PRECEDING CHAPTER. his birth day, the eleventh of June When the Apostle Barnaby the bright Unto our year doth give the longest light. BEN JONSON. CHAPTER CXXXVIIL p.346. DOUBTFUL PEDIGREE OF ECLIPSE. SHAKESPEAK (N. B. NOT WILLIAM) AND OLD MARSK. A PECU- LIARITY OF THE ENGLISH LAW. Lady Percy. But hear you, my Lord ! Hotspur. What say'st thou, my lady ? Lady Percy. What is it carries you away ? Hotspur. Why my Horse, my love, my Horse. SHAKESPEARE. CHAPTER CXXXIX. p. 347. FACTS AND OBSERVATIONS RELATING TO ONOMA- TOLOGY. Moreover there are many more things in the World than there are names for them ; according to the saying of the Philosopher ; Nomina sunt finita, ret out fin in- finites i idea unum nomcn plura sign(ficat : which saying is by a certain, or rather uncertain, author approved: Multis spcciebus nan sunt nomina ; idcirco necessarium est nomina fingere, si nullum ante erit nomfn impositum. GWILLIM. CHAPTER CXL. p. 353. HOW THERE AROSE A DISPUTE BETWEEN BARNABY AND NICHOLAS CONCERNING THE NAMING OP THIS COLT, AND OF THE EXTRAORDINARY CIR- CUMSTANCES THAT ENSUED. Quoiqu'il en soil, je ne tairai point cette hisloire ; je fabandonne d la credulili, ou a Cincredulitt ties Lccteurs, its prendront d cet egard quel parti il Icur plaira. Je dirai settlement, s'ils ne la veulent pas croire, que je let defte de me prouver qu'elle soil absolumeiit impossible ; ils ne le prouverontjamais. GOMGAU. CHAPTER CXLI. p. 354. A SINGULAR ANECDOTE AND NOT MORE SAD THAN TRUE. Oh penny Pipers, and most painful penners Of bountiful new Ballads, what a subject. What a sweet subject for your silver sounds ! BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. CHAPTER CXLII. p. 355. A DEFECT IN HOYLE SUPPLIED. GOOD ADVICE GIVEN, AND PLAIN TRUTH TOLD. A TRIBUTE OF RESPECT TO THE MEMORY OF F. NEWBERY, THE CHILDREN'S BOOKSELLER AND FRIEND. Neither is it a thing impossible or greatly hard, even by such kind of proofs so to manifest and clear that point, that no man living shall be able to deny it, without deny- ing some apparent principle such as all men acknowledge to be true. HOOKER. CHAPTER CXLIII. p. 356. A FEEBLE ATTEMPT TO DESCRIBE THE PHYSICAL AND MORAL QUALITIES OF NOBS. Quant d moi, je desirerois fort Sf avoir bien dire, ou que j'eutse eu une bonne plume, el bien taillee a commande- ment, pour I'ezalter et lover comtne il le merite. Tuutes- fois, telle quelle est,je m'en vais C employer au hazard. BRANTOME. CHAPTER CXLTV. p.363 HISTORY AND ROMANCE RANSACKED FOR RESEM- BLANCES AND NON-RESEMBLANCES TO THE HORSE OF DR. DANIEL DOVE. Renowned beast ! (forgive poetic flight !) Not less than man, deserves poetic right. THE BRCCIAD. CHAPTER CXLV. p.369. WILLIAM OSMER. INNATE QUALITIES. MARCH OF ANIMAL INTELLECT. FARTHER REVEALMENT OF THE COLUMBIAN PHILOSOPHY. There is a word, and it is a great word in this Book,* \ici-nuun, In id ipsum, that is, to look to the thing itself, the very point, the principal matter of all ; to have our eye on that, and not off it, upon alia omnia, any thing but it To go to the point, drive all to that, as also to go to the matter real, without declining from it this way or that, to the right hand or to the left. BP. AKDREWES. * The New Testament which the Preacher had before him. XXX CONTENTS. CHAPTER CXLVI. p. 373. DANIEL DOVE VERSUS SENECA AND BEN JONSON. ORLANDO AND HIS HORSE AT RONCESVALLES. ME. BURCHELL. THE PRINCE OF ORANGE. THE LORD KEEPER GUILDFORD. REV. MB. HAWTAYN. DR. THOMAS JACKSON. THE ELDER SCALIGER. EVELYN. AN ANONYMOUS AMERICAN. WALTER LANDOR, AND CAROLINE BOWLES. Contented with an humble theme I pour my stream of panegyric down The vale of Nature, where it creeps and winds Among her lovely works with a secure And unambitious course, reflecting clear, If not the virtues, yet the worth of brutes. COWPER. CHAPTER CXLVII. p.375. OLD TREES. SHIPS. FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. LIFE AND PASSIONS ASCRIBED TO INANIMATE OBJECTS. FETISH WORSHIP. A LORD CHAN- CELLOR AND HIS GOOSE. Ce quej'en ay escrit, c'estpour une curiosite, quiplaira possible & aucuns : et non possible auz autres. BRANTOMB. CHAPTER EXTRAORDINARY. p. 379. PROCEEDINGS AT A BOOK CLUB. THE AUTHOR ACCUSED OF " Lese delicatesse," OR WHAT is CALLED AT COURT " TUM-TI-TEE." HE UTTERS A MYSTERIOUS EXCLAMATION, AND INDIGNANTLY VINDICATES HIMSELF. Remprofecto mirabilem,longequestupendam, rebusque veris veriorem describo. HIBRONYMUS RADIOLENSIS. CHAPTER CXLVIII. p. 384. WHEREIN A SUBSTITUTE FOR OATHS, AND OTHER PASSIONATE INTERJECTIONS IS EXEMPLIFIED. What have we to do with the times ? We cannot cure 'em : Let them go on : when they are swoln with surfeits They'll burst and stink : Then all the world shall smell 'em. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. CHAPTER CXLIX. p. 387. A PARLOUS QUESTION ARISING OUT OF THE FORE- GOING CHAPTER. MR. IRVING AND THE UN- KNOWN TONGUES. TAYLOR THE WATER POET. POSSIBLE SCHEME OF INTERPRETATION PRO- POSED. OPINIONS CONCERNING THE GIFT OF TONGUES AS EXHIBITED IN MADMEN. Speak what terrible language yon will, though you understand it not yourselves, no matter ! Chough's lan- guage, gabble enough and good enough. SHAKESPEARE. CHAPTER CL. p. 390. XHB WEDDING PEAL AT ST. GEORGE'S, AND THE BRIDE'S APPEARANCE AT CHUBCH. See how I have strayed ! and you'll not wonder when you reflect on the whence and the whither. ALEXANDER KNOX. CHAPTER CLL p. 391. SOMETHING SERIOUS. If thou hast read all this Book, and art never the better, yet catch this flower before thou go out of the garden, and peradventure the scent thereof will bring thee back to smell the rest. HENRY SMITH. CHAPTER CUT. p. 393. ODD OPINIONS CONCERNING BIOGRAPHY AND EDU- CATION. THE AUTHOR MAKES A SECOND HIATUS AS UNWILLINGLY AS HE MADE THE FIRST, AND FOR THE SAME COGENT REASON. Ya sabes pero esfoi-zoso Repetirlo, aunque lo scpas. CALDERON. CHAPTER CL1II. p. 394. MATRIMONY AND RAZORS. LIGHT SAYINGS LEAD- ING TO GRAVE THOUGHTS. USES OF SHAVING. I wonder whence that tear came, when I smiled In the production on't ! Sorrow's a thief That can when joy looks on, steal forth a grief. MASSINGBR. CHAPTER CLIV. p. 396. A POET'S CALCULATION CONCERNING THE TIME EMPLOYED IN SHAVING, AND THE USE THAT MIGHT BE MADE OF IT. THE LAKE POETS LAKE SHAVERS ALSO. A PROTEST AGAINST LAKE SHAVLNG. Intellect and industry are never incompatible. There is more wisdom, and will be more benefit, in combining them than scholars like to believe, or than the common world imagine. Life has time enough for both, and its happiness will be increased by the union. SHARON TDRNER. CHAPTER CLV. p. 397. THE POET'S CALCULATION TESTED AND PROVED. Fiddle-faddle, don't tell of this and that, and every thing in the world, but give me mathematical demonstration. CONGREVE. CHAPTER CLVL p. 399. AN ANECDOTE OF WESLEY, AND AN ARGUMENT ARISING OUT OF IT, TO SHOW THAT THE TIME EMPLOYED IN SHAVING IS NOT SO MUCH LOST TIME ; AND YET THAT THE POET'S CALCULATION REMAINS OF PRACTICAL USE. Questo medesimo anchora con una altra gagliardis- sima ragione vi confe.rmo. LODOVICO DOMINICHI. CHAPTER CLVIL p. 401. WHICH THE READER WILL FIND LIKE A ROASTED MAGGOT, SHORT AND SWEET. Malum quod minimum est, id minimum est malum. PLAUTUS. CONTENTS. XXXI CHAPTER CLVIIL p. 401. DR. DOVE'S PRECEPTORIAL PRESCRIPTION, TO BE TAKEN BY THOSE WHO NEED IT. Some strange devise, I know, each youthful wight Would here expect, or lofty brave assay : But I'll the simple truth in simple wise convey. HENRY MORE. CHAPTER CLIX. p. 402. THE AUTHOR COMPARES HIMSELF AXD THE DOCTOR TO CARDINAL WOLSEY AND KINO HENRY VIII. AND SUGGESTS SUNDRY SIMILES FOR THE STYLE OF HIS BOOK. I doubt not but some will liken me to the Lover in a modern Comedy, who was combing his peruke and setting his cravat before his mistress ; and being asked by her when he intended to begin his court ? he replied, he had been doing it all this while. DRYDEN. CHAPTER CLX. p. 404. MENTION OF ONE FOR WHOM THE GERMANS WOULD COIN A DESIGNATION WHICH MIGHT BE TRANS- LATED A ONCE READER. MANY MINDS IN THE SAME MAN. A POET'S UNREASONABLE REQUEST. THE AUTHOR OFFERS GOOD ADVICE TO HIS READERS, AND ENFORCES IT BY AN EPISCOPAL OPINION. Judge not before Thou know mine intent ; But read me throughout, And then say thy fill ; As thou in opinion Art minded and bent, Whether it be Either good or ill. E. P. CHAPTER CLXI. p. 405. WESLEY AND THE DOCTOR OB" THE SAME OPINION UPON THE SUBJECT OF THESE CHAPTERS. A STUPENDOUS EXAMPLE OF CYCLOPJEDIAN STO- LIDITY. A good razor never hurts, or scratches. Neither would good wit, were men as tractable as their chins. But in- stead of parting with our intellectual bristles quietly, we set them up, and wriggle. Who can wonder then if we are cut to the bone ? GUESSES AT TRUTH. CHAPTER CLXII. p. 406. AMOUNT OF EVERY INDIVIDUAL'S PERSONAL SINS ACCORDING TO THE ESTIMATE OF MB. TOPLADY. THE DOCTOR'S OPINION THEREON. A BILL FOR CERTAIN CHURCH REPAIRS. A ROMISH LEGEND WHICH IS LIKELY TO BE TRUE, AND PART OF A JESUIT'S SERMON. Mankind, tho' satirists with jobations weary us, Has only two weak parts if fairly reckon'd ; The first of which, is trifling with things serious ; And seriousness in trifles is the second. Remove these little rubs, whoe'er knows how, And fools will be as scarce, as wise men DOW. BISHOP. CHAPTER CLXIII. p. 409. AN OPINION OF EL VENERABLE PADRE MAESTRO FRAY LUIS DE GRANADA, AND A PASSAGE QUOTED FROM HIS WORKS, BECAUSE OF THE PECULIAR BENEFIT TO WHICH PERSONS OF A CERTAIN DENOMINATION WILL FIND THEM- SELVES ENTITLED UPON READING OK HEARING IT i : i : A i >. Chacun tourne en rfalitfs Au/ant qu'il petit, set propres songes ; L'homme est df glace out virites, II est defeu pour les mensonget. LA FONTAINE. CHAPTER CLXTV. p. 410. AN INQUIRY IN THE POULTRY YARD, INTO THE TRUTH OF AN OPINION EXPRESSED BY ARISTOTLE. This is some liquor poured out of his bottle ; A deadly draught for those of Aristotle. J. C. sometime of M. H. Oxon. CHAPTER CLXV. p. 411. A QUESTION ASKED AND RIGHTLY ANSWERED, WITH NOTICES OF A GREAT IMPORTATION AN- NOUNCED IN THE LEITH COMMERCIAL LIST. " But tell me yet what followed on that But." DANIEL. CHAPTER CLXVI. p. 412. A WISH CONCERNING WHALES, WITH SOME RE- MARKS UPON THEIR PLACE IN PHYSICAL AND MORAL CLASSIFICATION. DR. ABRAHAM REES. CAPTAIN SCORESBY. THE WHALE FISHERY. Your Whale he will swallow a hogshead for a pill ; But the maker of the mouse-trap is he that hath skill. BEN JONSON. CHAPTER CLXVLL p. 416. A MOTTO WHICH IS WELL CHOSEN BECAUSE NOT BEING APPLICABLE IT SEEMS TO BE SO. THK AUTHOR NOT ERRANT HERE OR ELSEWHERE. PHILOSOPHY AND OTHER-OSOPHIES. Much from my theme and friend have I digressed, But poor as I am, poor in stuff for thought, And poor in thought to make of it the best, Blame me not, Gentles, if I soon am caught By this or that, when as my themes suggest Aught of collateral aid which may be wrought Into its service : Blame me not, I say; The idly musing often miss their way. CHARLES LLOYD. CHAPTER CLXVIII. p. 416. NE-PLUS-ULTRA-WHALE-FISHING. AN OPINION OF CAPTAIN SCORESBY'S. THE DOCTOR DENIES THAT ALL CREATURES WERE MADE FOR THE USE OF MAN. THE CONTRARY DEMONSTRATED IN PRACTICE BY BELLARMINE. Scquar quo vocas, omnibus enint rebus omnitntsqtie sermonibus, aliquid salutare miscendum est. SENECA. CONTENTS. CHAPTER CLXIX. p. 419. LINKS AND AFFINITIES. A MAP OF THK AUTHOR'S INTELLECTUAL COURSE IN THE FIVE PRECEDING CHAPTERS. *Xl 0/A.l *7S{, troi Sri Kail ffiOiv ; PlATO. CHAPTER CLXX. p. 422. THE AUTHOR REPEATS A REMARK OF HIS DAUGHTER UPON THE PRECEDING CHAPTER ; COMPLIMENTS THE LORD BROUGHAM AND VAUX UPON HIS LUNGS AND LARYNX; PHILOSOPHISES AND QUOTES, AND QUOTES AND PHILOSOPHISES AGAIN AND AGAIN. Fato, Fortuna, Predtslinazione, Sorte, Caso, Ventura, son di quelle Cose che dan gran noja a le persone, E vi si dicon su di gran novelle. Ma in fine Iddio d' ogni cose 4 padrone : E chi e savio domina a le stelle ; Chi non savio paziente e forte, Lnmentisi di se, non de la sorte. ORL. INN. CHAPTER CLXXI. p. 425. CONTAINING PART OF A SERMON, WHICH THE READER WILL FIND WORTH MORE THAN MOST WHOLE ONES THAT IT MAY BE HIS FORTUNE TO HEAR. Je fais tine grande provision de ban sens en prenanl ce que les autres en ont. MADAME DE MAINTENON. INTERCHAPTER XVII. p. 426. A POPULAR LAY NOTICED, WITH SUNDRY REMARKS PERTINENT THERETO, SUGGESTED THEREBY, OR DEDUCED THEREFROM. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit: by and by It will strike. TEMPEST. INTERCHAPTER XVIII. p. 429. APPLICATION OF THE LAY. CALEB D'ANVERS. IRISH LAW. ICON BASILIKE. JUNIUS. THOMAS A KEMPIS. FELIX HEMMERLEN. A NKEDLE LARGER THAN GAMMER GURTON'S AND A MUCH COARSEE THREAD. THOMAS WARTON AND BISHOP STILL. THE JOHN WEBSTERS, THE ALEXANDER CUNNINGHAMS, AND THE CURINAS AND THE STEPHENS. Lo que soy, razona poco Porque de sombra a mi va nada, o poco. FUEMTE DESEADA. INTERCHAPTER XIX. p. 437. THE AUTHOR DIFFERS IN OPINION FROM SIR EGER- TON BRYDGES AND THE EMPEROR JULIAN, SPEAKS CHARITABLY OF THAT EMPEROR, VINDI- CATES PROTEUS FROM HIS CENSURE, AND TALKS OF POSTHUMOUS TRAVELS AND EXTRA MUNDANE EXCURSIONS, AND THE PUBLIC LIBRARY IN LIMBOLAND. Petulant. If he says black's black, if I have a humour to say it is blue let that pass. All's one for that. If I have a humour to prove it, it must be granted. Witwould. Not positively must, But it may, it may. Petulant. Yes, it positively must, upon proof positive. Witwould. Ay, upon proof positive it must ; but upon proof presumptive it only may. That's a logic.il distinction now. CONGREVE. CHAPTER CLXXIL p. 439. DESCARTES' NOTION CONCERNING THE PROLON- GATION OF LIFE. A SICILIAN PROPOSAL FOR BREEDING UP CHILDREN TO BE IMMORTAL. ASGILL'S ARGUMENT AGAINST THE NECESSITY OF DYING. O harmless Death ! whom still the valiant brave, The wise expect, the sorrowful invite ; And all the good embrace, who know the Grave A short dark passage to eternal light. SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT. CHAPTER CLXXIII. p. 452. MORE CONCERNING ASGILL. HIS DEFENCE IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, HIS EXPULSION, FARTHER SPECULATIONS AND DEATH. Let not that ugly Skeleton appear ! Sure Destiny mistakes; this Death's not mine ! DRYDEN. CHAPTER CLXXIV. p. 456. THE DOCTOR INDULGES IN THE WAY OF FANTASTIC AND TYPICAL SPECULATION ON HIS OWN NAME, AND ON THE POWERS OF THE LETTER D., WHETHER AS REGARDS DEGREES AND DIS- TINCTIONS, GODS AND DEMI-GODS, PRINCES AND KINGS, PHILOSOPHERS, GENERALS, OR TRAVELLERS. My mouth's no dictionary; it only serves as the needful interpreter of my heart. QUARLES. CHAPTER CLXXV. p. 458. THE DOCTOR FOLLOWS UP HIS MEDITATIONS ON THE LETTER D. AND EXPECTS THAT THE READER WILL BE CONVINCED THAT IT IS A DYNAMIC LETTER, AND THAT THE HEBREWS DID NOT WITHOUT REASON CALL IT DALETH THE DOOR AS THOUGH IT WERE THE DOOR OF SPEECH. THE MYSTIC TRIANGLE. More authority, dear boy, 'name more ; and sweet my child let them be men of good repute and carriage. LOVE'S LABOUR LOST. CONTENTS. XXXlll CHAPTER CLXXVI. p. 461. THE DOCTOR DISC'OVERS THE ANTIQUITY OF THE NAME OF DOVE FROM PERUSING JACOB BRY- ANT'S ANALYSIS OF ANCIENT MYTHOLOGY. CHRISTOPHER AND FERDINAND COLUMBUS. SOMETHING ABOUT PIGEON-PIE, AND THE REASON WHY THE DOCTOR WAS INCLINED TO THINK FAVOURABLY OF THE SAMARITANS. An' I take the humour of a thing once, I am like your tailor's needle ; I go through. BEN JONSON. CHAPTER CLXXVII. p. 462. SOMETHING ON THE SCIENCE AND MYSTERY OF NUMBERS WHICH IS NOT ACCORDING TO COCKER. REVERIES OF JEAN D'ESPAGNE, MINISTER OF THE FRENCH-REFORMED CHURCH IN WEST- MINSTER, AND OF MR. JOHN BELLAMY. A PITHY REMARK OF FULLER'S, AND AN EXTRACT FROM HIS PISGAH SIGHT OF PALESTINE, TO RECREATE THE READER. None are so surely caught, when they are catch'd, As wit turn'd fool : folly, in wisdom hatch'd, Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school, And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool. LOVE'S LABOUR LOST. CHAPTER CLXXVIII. p. 465. THE MYSTERY OF NUMBERS PURSUED, AND CER- TAIN CALCULATIONS GIVEN WHICH MAY RE- MIND THE READER OF OTHER CALCULATIONS EQUALLY CORRECT. ANAGRAMMATISING OF NAMES, AND THE DOCTOR'S SUCCESS THEREIN. "There is no efficacy in numbers, said the wiser Philo- sophers ; and very truly," saith Bishop Hacket in repeating this sentence; but he continues, "some numbers are apt to enforce a reverent esteem towards them, by considering miraculous occurrences which fell out in holy Scripture on such and such a number. -Non potest fortuito fieri, quod tarn sirpejit, says Maldonatus, whom I never find superstitious in this matter. It falls out too often to be called contingent; and the oftcner it falls out, the more to be attended." CHAPTER CLXXIX. p. 467. THE SUBJECT OF ANAGRAMS CONTINUED ; A TRUE OBSERVATION WHICH MANY FOR WANT OF OB- SERVATION WILL NOT DISCOVER TO BE SUCH, VIZ., THAT THERE IS A LATENT SUPERSTITION IN THE MOST RATIONAL OF MEN. LUCKY AND UNLUCKY FITTING AND UNFITTING ; ANA- GRAMS, AND HOW THE DOCTOR'S TASTE IN THIS LINE WAS DERIVED FROM OUR OLD AC- QUAINTANCE JOSHUA SILVESTER. Ha gran forza una vecchia opinions ; E bisogna grand' arte, e gran fatica, A cavarla del capo alle persone. BRONZING PITTORB. CHAPTER CLXXX. p. 469. THE DOCTOR'S IDEAS OF LUCK, CHANCE, ACCI- DENT, FORTUNE AND MISFORTUNE. THE DUCHESS OF NEWCASTLE'S DISTINCTION BE- TWEEN CHANCE AND FORTUNE, WHEREIN NO-MEANING IS MISTAKEN FOR MEANING. AGREEMENT IN OPINION BETWEEN THE PHILO- SOPHER OF DONCASTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER OF NORWICH. DISTINCTION BETWEEN UN- FORTUNATELY UGLY, AND WICKEDLY UGLY. DANGER OF PERSONAL CHARMS. a; "miff. xau iXoyimu; ffOvMitrtn, xcti ni ft.lt >.i-ym eturHi fjLri xotTtzXctfAfiotvovrbn, Slat = Tr t v OLO^ivltctv TW xotTetkvr^/taas, ct./.t>yu; ciofAttan SixnTK^Baa TO.VTU., Si rot Aoyan tltnly oi/x ix.ovn>. CONSTANT. ORAT. AD SANCT. C^T. c. VH. " Deformity ' is either natural, voluntary, or adven- titious, being either caused by God's unseen Providence, (by men nicknamed chance,) or by men's cruelty." FULLER'S HOLY STATE, B. iii. c. 15. CHAPTER CLXXXL p. 471. NO DEGREE OF UGLINESS REALLY UNFORTUNATE. FIDUS CORNELIUS COMPARED TO A PLUCKED OSTRICH. WILKES' CLAIM TO UGLINESS CON- SIDERED AND NEGATIVED BY DR. JOHNSON, NOTWITHSTANDING HOGARTH'S PORTRAIT. CAST OF THE EYE A LA MONTMORENCY. ST. EVREMOND AND TURENNE. WILLIAM BLAKE THE PAINTER, AND THE WELSH TRIADS. CCRIOU8 EXTRACT FROM THAT VERY CURIOUS AND RARE BOOK, THE DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF HIS OWN PICTURES, AND A PAINFUL ONE FROM HIS POETICAL SKETCHES. " If ihou beest not so handsome as thou tcouldest have been, thank God thou art not more unhandsome than thou art. 'Tis His mercy thou art not the mark for passenger's fingers to point at, an Heteroclite in nature, with some member defective or redundant Be glad that thy clay cottage hath all the necessary forms thereto belonging, though the outside be not so fairly plaistered as some others." FULLER'S HOLY STATE, iii. c. 15. CHAPTER CLXXXIL p.476. AN IMPROVEMENT IN THE FORM OF THE HUMAN LEG SUGGESTED BY A PHYSICIAN. THE DOC- TOR'S CURE OF A BROKEN SHIN AND INVENTION OF A SHIN-SHIELD. Resfisci est, ubicunque natal. Whatsoever swims upon any water, belongs to this exchequer. JEREMY TAYLOR. Preface to the Duct. Dub. CHAPTER CLXXXIII. p. 477. VIEWS OF OLD AGE. MONTAGNE, DANIEL COR- NEILLE, LANGUET, PASQUIER, DR. JOHNSON, LORD CHESTERFIELD, ST. EVREMOND. What is age But the holy place of life, the chapel of ease For all men's wearied miseries ? MASSINGBR. XX XIV CONTENTS. CHAPTER CLXXXIV. p. 481. FURTHER OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING OLD AGE. BISHOP REYNOLDS. OPINION OF THE DOCTOR CONCERNING BEASTS AND MEN. M. DE CUSTINE. THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US. WORDS- WORTH. SIR WALTER RALEIGH. In these reflections, which are of a serious, and some- what of a melancholy cast, it is best to indulge ; because it is always of use to be serious, and not unprofitable sometimes to be melancholy. FREEMAN'S SERMONS. CHAPTER CLXXXV. p. 483. EVOLVEMENTS. ANALOGIES. ANTICIPATIONS. I have heard, how true I know not, most physicians as they grow Greater in skill, grow less in their religion; Attributing so much to natural causes, That they have little faith in that they cannot Deliver .reason for : this Doctor steers Another course. MASSINGER. CHAPTER CLXXXYL p. 484 LEONE HEBREO'S DIALOGI DE AMORE. THE ELIXIR OF LIFE NO OBSTACLE TO DEATH. PARACELSUS. VAN HELMONT AND JAN MASS. DE. DOVE'S OPINION OF A BIOGRAPHER'S DUTIES. There's a lean fellow beats all conquerors ! OLD FORTUNATCS. CHAPTER CLXXXVIL p. 487. VAN HELMONT'S WORKS, AND CERTAIN SPECIA- LITIES IN HIS LIFE. Voilh man conte Je ne s$ay s'il est vray ; mnis,je Fay ainsi out/ confer Possible qne cela estfavx, possible que nan Je m'en rapporte r). SlMONlDES. FRAGMENTS TO THE DOCTOR. p. 669. A LOVE FRAGMENT FOR THE LADIKS, INTIIOIHVED BY A CURIOUS INCIDENT WHICH THE AUTHuR BEGS THEY WILL EXCUSE. Now will ye list a little space, And I shall send you to solace ; You to solace and be blyth, Hearken ! ye shall hear belyve A tale that is of verity. ROSWALL AND LlI.Ll \N. A FRAGMENT ON BEARDS. p. G71. Yet have I more to say which I have thought upon, for I am filled as the moon at the full ! KCCLESIASTICUS. FRAGMENT ON MORTALITY. p. 673. FRAGMENT OF SIXTH VOLUME. p. 674. FRAGMENT WHICH WAS TO HAVE ANSWERED THE QUESTION PROPOSED IN THE TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY-SECOND CHAPTER. p. 676. lo udii gia dire ad un valente uomo nostro vicino, gli uomini abbiano molle volte bisogno si di lagrimare, come di ridere ; e per tat cagione egli affermava essere state da principio trovate le dolorose favole, che ti chiamarono Tragedie, accioche raccontate ne' teatri, come in qual tempo si costumava di/are, tirassero le lagrime agli occhi di coloro, che avevano di do mestiere ; e cost eglino pian- gendo delta loro infirmita guarisscro. Ma come cid sia a not non ista bene di contristare gli animi tit lie persont con ctti favelliamo ; massimamenle cola dove si dimori per averfesta e sollazzo, e non per piagnere ; che se pure atcuno i, che infermi per ttaghezza di lagrimare, nssai leggier cosajia di medicarlo con la mustarda forte, o porio in alcun luogo alfumo. GALATEO, DEL M. GIOVANNI DELLA CASA. FRAGMENT ON HUTCHISSON'S WORKS. p. 676. FRAGMENT RELATIVE TO THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL AT DONCASTER AND THE LIVING OF ROSSING- TON. p. 679. FRAGMENT OF INTERCHAPTER. p. 680. MEMOIRS OF CAT'S EDEN. p. 681. FRAGMENT OF INTERCHAPTER. p. 681. More than prince of cats, 1 can tell jou. ROMEO AND JtTLIET. MEMOIR OF THE CATS OF GRETA HALL. p. 682. FRAGMENT OF INTERCHAPTER. p. 686. EI2 TOTS ANAPIANTA2.-p.686. 1 At" 8*/3Af itixrtvffi Tin Ta;oe/M<; KtOfutroi;, xzi tlf roW fuv @ctffi\&r Cfigiffotv avJ^avTfltf . CHBYSOST. HOM AD POPUL. ANTIOCHEN. EPILUDE OF MOTTOES. p. 691. L'EXTOY. p.694. THE DOCTOR, CHAPTER VII. A. I. A FAMILY PARTY AT A NEXT DOOR NEIGH- BOUR'S. Good Sir, reject it not, although it bring Appearances of some fantastic thing At first unfolding ! GEORGE WITHER TO THE KING. I WAS in the fourth night of the story of the Doctor and his horse, and had broken it off, not like Scheherezade because it was time to get up, but because it was time to go to bed. It was at thirty-five minutes after ten o'clock, on the 20th of July, in the year of our Lord 1813. I finished my glass of punch, tinkled the spoon against its side, as if making music to iny meditations, and having my eyes fixed upon the Bhow Begum, who was sitting opposite to me at the head of her own table, I said, " It ought to be written in a book ! " There had been a heavy thunder-storm in the afternoon ; and though the thermometer had fallen from 78 to 70, still the atmosphere was charged. If that mysterious power by which the nerves convey sensation and make their impulses obeyed, be (as experi- ments seem to indicate) identical with the galvanic fluid ; and if the galvanic and electric fluids be the same (as philosophers have more than surmised) ; and if the lungs (according to a happy hypothesis) elaborate for us from the light of heaven this pabulum of the brain, and material essence, or essen- tial matter of genius, it may be that the ethereal fire which I had inhaled so largely during the day produced the bright concep- tion, or at least impregnated and quickened the latent seed. The punch, reader, had no share in it. I had spoken as it were abstractedly, and the look which accompanied the words was rather cogitative than regardant. The Bhow Begum laid down her snuff-box and replied, entering into the feeling, as well as echoing the words, " It ought to be written in a book, certainly it ought." They may talk as they will of the dead languages. Our auxiliary verbs give us a power which the ancients, with all their varieties of mood, and inflections of tense, never could attain. " It must be written in a book," said I, encouraged by her manner. The mood was the same, the tense was the same ; but the gradation of meaning was marked in a way which a Greek or Latin grammarian might have envied as well as admired. " Pshaw ! nonsense ! stuff! " said my wife's eldest sister, who was sitting at the right hand of the Bhow Begum ; " I say, write it in a book indeed!" My wife's youngest sister was sitting diagonally opposite to the last speaker ; she lifted up her eyes and smiled. It was a smile which expressed the san e opinion as the late vituperative tones ; there was as much of incredulity in it ; but more of wonder and less of vehemence. My wife was at my left hand, making a cap for her youngest daughter^and with her tortoiseshell-paper work-box before her. I turned towards her, and repeated the words, " It must be written in a book ! " But I smiled while I was speaking, and was con- scious of that sort of meaning in my eyes which calls out contradiction for the pleasure of sporting with it. " Write it in a book ! " she replied, " I am sure you won't;" and she looked at me with a frown. Poets have written much THE DOCTOR. upon their ladies' frowns, but I do not re- member that they have ever described the thing with much accuracy. AY hen my wife frowns, two perpendicular wrinkles, each three quarters of an inch in length, are formed in the forehead, the base of each resting upon the top of the nose, and equi- distant from each other. The poets have also attributed dreadful effects to the frown of those whom they love. I cannot say that I ever experienced any thing very formidable in my wife's. At present she knew her eyes would give the lie to it if they looked at me steadily for a moment; so they wheeled to the left about quick, off at a tangent, in a direction to the Bhow Begum, and then she smiled. She could not prevent the smile ; but she tried to make it scornful. My wife's nephew was sitting diagonally with her, and opposite his mother, on the left hand of the Bhow Begum. " Oh ! " he ex- claimed, " it ought to be written in a book ! it will be a glorious book ! write it, uncle, I beseech you ! " My wife s nephew is a sen- sible lad. He reads my writings, likes my stories, admires my singing, and thinks as I do in politics : a youth of parts and con- siderable promise. " He will write it ! " said the Bhow Begum, taking up her snuff-box, and accompanying the words with a nod of satisfaction and en- couragement. " He w ill never be so foolish ! " said my wife. My wife's eldest sister re- joined, " he is foolish enough for any thing." CHAPTER VI. A. I. SHOWING THAT AN AUTHOR MAT MORE EASILY BE KEPT AWAKE BY HIS OWN IMAGINATIONS THAN PUT TO SLEEP BY THEM HIMSELF, WHATEVER MAY BE THEIR EFFECT UPON HIS READERS. Thou sleepest worse than if a mouse should be forced to take up her lodging in a cat's ear : a little infant that breeds its teeth, should it lie with thee, would cry out as if thou wert the more unquiet bedfellow. WEBSTER. WHEN I ought to have been asleep the u unborn pages crowded on my soul." The Chapters ante-initial and post-initial ap- peared in delightful prospect "long drawn out : " the beginning, the middle and the end were evolved before me : the whole spread itself forth, and then the parts unravelled themselves and danced the hays. The very types rose in judgment against me, as if to persecute me for the tasks which during so many years I had imposed upon them. Capitals and small letters, pica and long- primer, brevier and bourgeois, English and nonpareil, minion and pearl, Romans and Italics, black-letter and red, passed over my inward sight. The notes of admiration ! ! ! stood straight up in view as I lay on the one side; and when I turned on the other to avoid them, the notes of interrogation cocked up their hump-backs ? ? ? Then came to re- collection the various incidents of the event- ful tale. " Visions of glory spare my aching sight ! " The various personages, like spectral faces in a fit of the vapours, stared at me through my eyelids. The Doctor oppressed me like an incubus; and for the Horse, he became a perfect night-mare. " Leave me, leave me to repose ! " Twelve by the kitchen clock! still rest- less ! One ! O Doctor, for one of thy com- fortable composing draughts! Two! here's a case of insomnolence ! I, who in summer close my lids as instinctively as the daisy when the sun goes down ; and who in winter could hybernate as well as Bruin, were I but provided with as much fat to support me during the season, and keep the wick of existence burning : I, who, if my pedi- gree were properly made out, should be found to have descended from one of the Seven Sleepers, and from the Sleeping Beauty in the AVood ! I put my arms out of bed. I turned the pillow for the sake of applying a cold sur- face to my cheek. I stretched my feet into the cold corner. I listened to the river, and to the ticking of my watch. I thought of all sleepy sounds and all soporific things : the flow of water, the humming of bees, the motion of a boat, the waving of a field of corn, the nodding of a mandarine's head on the chimney-piece, a horse in a mill, the THE DOCTOR. opera, Mr. Humdrum's conversation, Mr. Proser's poems, Mr. Laxative's speeches, Mr. Lengthy's sermons. I tried the device of my own childhood, and fancied that the bed revolved with me round and round. Still the Doctor visited me as perseveringly as if I had been his best patient ; and, cull up what thoughts I would to keep him off, the Horse charged through them all. At last Morpheus reminded ine of Dr. Torpedo's divinity lectures, where the voice, the manner, the matter, even the very at- mosphere, and the streamy candle-light were all alike somnific ; where he who by strong effort lifted up his head, and forced open the reluctant eyes, never failed to see all around him fast asleep. Lettuces, cowslip- wine, poppy-syrup, mandragora, hop-pillows, spiders-web pills, and the whole tribe of narcotics, up to bang and the black drop, would have failed : but this was irresistible ; and thus twenty years after date I found benefit from having attended the course. CHAPTER V. A. I. SOMETHING CONCERNING THE PHILOSOPHY OF DREAMS, AND THE AUTHOR'S EXPERIENCE IN AERIEL HORSEMANSHIP. If a dream should come in now to make you afear'd, With a windmill on his head and bells at his beard, Would you straight wear your spectacles here at your toes, And your boots on your brows and your spurs on your nose? BEN JONSON. THE wise ancients held that dreams are from Jove. Virgil hath told us from what gate of the infernal regions they go out, but at which of the five entrances of the town of Mansoul they get in John Bunyan hath not explained. Some have conceited that unem- bodied spirits have access to us during sleep, and impress upon the passive faculty, by divine permission, presentiments of those things whereof it is fitting that we should be thus dimly forewarned. This opinion is held by Baxter, and to this also doth Bishop Newton incline. The old atomists supposed that the likenesses or spectres of corporeal things (excuvice scilicet rerum, vel effluvia, as they are called by Vaninus, when he takes advantage of them to explain the Fata Mor- gana), the atomists I say, supposed that these spectral forms which are constantly emitted from all bodies, Omne genus quantum passim simulacra feruntur *, assail the soul when she ought to be at rest ; according to which theory all the lathered faces that are created every morning in the looking-glass, and all the smiling ones that my Lord Simper and Mr. Smallwit contem- plate there with so much satisfaction during the day, must at this moment be floating up and down the world. Others again opine, as if in contradiction to those who pretend life to be a dream, that dreams are realities, and that sleep sets the soul free like a bird from a cage. John Henderson saw the spirit of a slumbering cat pass from her in pursuit of a visionary mouse ; (I know not whether he would have admitted the fact as an argu- ment for materialism ;) and the soul of Hans Engelbrecht not only went to hell, but brought back from it a stench which proved to all the bystanders that it had been there. Faugh! Whether then my spirit that night found its way out at the nose (for I sleep with my mouth shut), and actually sallied out seeking adventures ; or whether the spectrum of the Horse floated into my chamber; or some benevolent genius or daemon assumed the well-known and welcome form ; or whether the dream were merely a dream, tifui en etpirilu, dfue en cnerpo, no si ; que yo tola ac, que no lo st j t so however it was that in the visions of the night I mounted Nobs. Tell me not of Astolfo's hippogriff, or Pacolet's wooden steed; nor Of that wonderous horse of brass Whereon the Tartar King did pass ; nor of Alborak, who was the best beast for a night-journey that ever man bestrode. Tell * LUCRETIUS. f CALDBRON. THE DOCTOR. me not even of Pegasus! I have ridden him many a time ; by day and by night have I ridden him ; high and low, far and wide, round the earth, and about it, and over it, and under it. I know all his earth-paces, and his sky-paces. I have tried him at a walk, at an amble, at a trot, at a canter, at a hand-gallop, at full gallop, and at full speed. I have proved him in the manege with single turns and the manege with double turns, his bounds, his curvets, his pirouettes, and his pistes, his croupade and his balotade, his gallop-galliard, and his capriole. I have been on him when he has glided through the sky with wings outstretched and motionless, like a kite or a summer cloud ; I have be- strode him when he went up like a bittern with a strong spiral flight, round, round, and round, and upward, upward, upward, cir- cling and rising still ; and again when he has gone full sail, or full fly, with his tail as straight as a comet's behind him. But for a hobby or a night horse, Pegasus is nothing to Nobs. Where did we go on that memorable night ? What did we see ? What did we do ? Or rather what did we not see ? and what did we not perform ? CHAPTER IV. A. I. A CONVERSATION AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE. Tel condamne man Coq-a-l'ane qui unjour en justifiera e ban sent. LA PRETIEUSE. I WENT down to breakfast as usual, over- flowing with joyous thoughts. For mirth and for music, the skylark is but a type of me. I warbled a few wood notes wild, and then, full of the unborn work, addressed myself to my wife's eldest sister, and asked if she would permit me to dedicate the Book to her. "What book?" she replied. "The History," said I, "of Doctor Daniel Dove, of Doncaster, and his Horse Nobs." She an- swered, " No, indeed ! I will have no such nonsense dedicated to me !" and with that she drew up her upper lip, and the lower region of the nose. I turned to my wife's youngest sister : " Shall I have the pleasure of dedicating it to you?" She raised her eyes, inclined her head forwards with a smile of negation, and begged leave to de- cline the honour. " Commandante," said I, to my wife and Commandress, " shall I dedi- cate it then to you ?" My Commandante made answer, " Not unless you have some- thing better to dedicate." " So Ladies ! " said 1 ; " the stone which the builders rejected," and then looking at my wife's youngest sister "Oh, it will be such a book!" The manner and the tone were so much in earnest, that they arrested the bread and butter on the way to her mouth ; and she exclaimed, with her eyes full of wonder and incredulity at the same time, "Why, you never can be serious?" "Not serious," said I; "why I have done nothing but think of it and dream of it the whole night." " He told me so," rejoined my Commandante, "the first thing in the morn- ing." "Ah, Stupey!" cried my wife's eldest sister, accompanying the compliment with a protrusion of the head, and an extension of the lips, which disclosed not only the whole remaining row of teeth, but the chasms that had been made in it by the tooth drawer; hiatus valde lacrymabiles. " Two volumes," said I, " and this in the title-page!" So taking out my pencil, I drew upon the back of a letter the myste- rious monogram, erudite in its appearance as the diagamma of Mr. A. F. Valpy. It past from hand to hand. " Why, he is not in earnest;" said my wife's youngest sister. " He never can be," replied my wife. And yet beginning to think that peradventure I was, she looked at me with a quick turn of THE DOCTOR. the eye, "a pretty subject, indeed, for you to employ your time upon ! You, vema whehaha yohu almad oteuba twandri athan- cod ! " I have thought proper to translate this part of my Commandaiite's speech into the Garamna tongue. CHAPTER HI. A. I. THE UTILITY OF POCKETS. A COMPLIMEXT PROPERLY RECEIVED. La tasca e proprio cosa da Chrisliani. BENEDETTO VARCHI. MY eldest daughter had finished her Latin lessons, and my son had finished his Greek; and I was sitting at my desk, pen in hand and in mouth at the same time, (a substitute for biting the nails which I recommend to all onygophagists), when the Bow Begum came in with her black velvet reticule, sus- pended as usual from her arm by its silver chain. Now, of all the inventions of the Tailor (who is of all artists the most inventive), I hold the pocket to be the most commodious, and, saving the fig leaf, the most indispensa- ble. Birds have their craw ; ruminating beasts their first or ante-stomach ; the mon- key has his cheek, the opossum her pouch ; and, so necessary is some convenience of this kind for the human animal, that the savage who cares not for clothing, makes for himself a pocket if he can. The Hindoo carries his snutF-box in his turban. Some of the inha- bitants of Congo make a secret fob in their woolly toupet, of which, as P. Labat says, the worst use they make is to carry poison in it. The Matolas, a long-haired race, who border upon the CafFres, form their locks into a sort of hollow cylinder in which they bear about their little implements ; certes a more sensible bag than such as is worn at court. The New Zealander is less inge- nious ; he makes a large opening in his ear, and carries his knife in it. The Ogres, who are worse than savages, and whose ignorance and brutality is in proportion to their bulk, are said, upon the authority of tradition, when they have picked up a stray traveller or two more than, they require for their sup- per, to lodge them in a hollow tooth, as a place of security till breakfast ; whence it may be inferred that they are not liable to tooth-ache, and that they make no use of tooth-picks. Ogres, savages, beasts, and birds, all require something to serve the purpose of a pocket. Thus much for the necessity of the thing. Touching its anti- quity, much might be said ; for it would not be difficult to show, with that little assistance from the auxiliaries must and have and been, which enabled Whitaker, of Manchester, to write whole quartos of hypothetical history in the potential mood, that pockets are coeval with clothing : and, as erudite men have maintained that language and even letters are of divine origin, there might with like reason be a conclusion drawn from the twenty-first verse of the third chapter of the book of Genesis, which it would not be easy to impugn. Moreover, nature herself shows us the utility, the importance, nay, the in- dispensability, or, to take a hint from the pure language of our diplomatists, the sine- quano7ininess of pockets. There is but one organ which is common to all animals what- soever : some are without eyes, many with- out noses ; some have no heads, others no tails ; some neither one nor the other ; some there are who have no brains, others very pappy ones ; some no hearts, others very bad ones ; but all have a stomach, and what is the stomach but a live inside pocket ? Hath not Van Helmont said of it, " Saccus vel pera est, ut ciborum olla f " Dr. Towers used to have his coat pockets made of capacity to hold a quarto volume a wise custom; but requiring stout cloth, good buckram, and strong thread well waxed. I do not so greatly commend the humour of Dr. Ingenhouz, whose coat was lined with pockets of all sizes, wherein, in his latter years, when science had become to him as a plaything, he carried about various mate- rials for chemical experiments : among the rest, so many compositions for fulminating powders in glass tubes, separated only by a cork in the middle of the tube, that, if any G THE DOCTOR. person had unhappily given him a blow with a stick, he might have blown up himself and the Doctor too. For myself, four coat pockets of the ordinary dimensions content me; in these a sufficiency of conveniences may be carried, and that sufficiency me- thodically arranged. For mark me, gentle or ungentle reader ! there is nothing like method in pockets, as well as in composition : and what orderly and methodical man would have his pocket-handkerchief, and his pocket- book, and the key of his door (if he be a batehelor living in chambers), and his knife, and his loose pence and half-pence, and the letters which perad venture he might just have received, or peradventure he may in- tend to drop in the post-office, two-penny or general, as he passes by, and his snuff, if he be accustomed so to regale his olfactory conduits, or -his tobacco-box if he prefer the masticable to the pulverized weed, or his box of lozenges if he should be troubled with a tickling cough ; and the sugar-plumbs, and the gingerbread nuts which he may be carrying home to his own children, or to any other small men and women upon whose hearts he may have a design ; who, I say, would like to have all this in chaos and con- fusion, one lying upon the other, and the thing which is wanted first fated alway to be undermost ! (Mr. Wilberforce knows the inconvenience) the snuff working its way out to the gingerbread, the sugar-plumbs in- sinuating themselves into the folds of the pocket-handkerchief, the pence grinding the lozenges to dust for the benefit of the pocket- book, and the door key busily employed in unlocking the letters ? Now, forasmuch as the commutation of female pockets for the reticule leadeth to inconveniences like this (not to mention that the very name of commutation ought to be held in abhorrence by all who hold day-light and fresh air essential to the comfort and salubrity of dwelling-houses), I abominate that bag of the Bhow Begum, notwithstand- ing the beauty of the silver chain upon the black velvet. And perceiving at this time that the clasp of its silver setting was broken, so that the mouth of the bag was gaping pitiably, like a sick or defunct oyster, I con- gratulated her as she came in upon this farther proof of the commodiousness of the invention ; for here, in the country, there is no workman who can mend that clasp, and the bag must therefore either be laid aside, or used in that deplorable state. When the Bhow Begum had seated hersfilf I told her how my proffered dedication had been thrice rejected with scorn, and repeat- ing the offer I looked for a more gracious reply. But, as if scorn had been the in- fluenza of the female mind that morning, she answered, " No ; indeed she would not have it after it had been refused by every body else." " Nay, nay," said I ; "it is as much in your character to accept, as it was in theirs to refuse." While I was speaking she took a pinch of snuff; the nasal titillation co-operated with my speech, for when any one of the senses is pleased, the rest are not likely to continue out of humour. " Well," she replied, " I will have it dedicated to me, because I shall delight in the book." And she powdered the carpet with tobacco dust as CHAPTER H. A.I. CONCERNING DEDICATIONS, PRINTERS' TYPES, AND IMPERIAL INK. // y aura des clefs, et des ouvertures de mes secreis. LA PBETIECSE. MONSIEUR Dellon, having been in the In- quisition at Goa, dedicated an account of that tribunal, and of his own sufferings to Mademoiselle du Cambout de Coislin, in these words : Mademoiselle, J'aurois tort de me plaindre des rigueurs de T Inquisition, et des mauvais traitements que fay eprouvez de la part de ses ministres, puisqiien me fournissant la matiere de cet ouvrage, Us mont procure Tavantage de vous le dedier. This is the book which that good man Claudius Buchanan with so much propriety THE DOCTOR. put into the hands of the Grand Inquisitor of India, when he paid him a visit at the Inquisition, and asked him his opinion of the accuracy of the relation upon the spot ! The Frenchman's compliment may truly be said to have been far-fetched and dearly bought. Heaven forefend that I should either go so fur for one, or purchase it at such a price ! A dedication has oftentimes cost the unhappy author a greater consumption of thumb and finger nail than the whole book besides, and all varieties of matter and manner have been resorted to. Mine must be so far in character with the delectable history which it introduces, that it shall be unlike all which have ever gone before it. I knew a man (one he was who would have been an ornament to his country if me- thodisin and madness had not combined to overthrow a bright and creative intellect), who, in one of his insaner moods, printed a sheet and a half of muddy rhapsodies with the title of the " Standard of God Dis- played : " and he prefaced it by saying that the price of a perfect book, upon a perfect subject, ought to be a perfect sum in a perfect coin ; that is to say, one guinea. Now as Dr. Daniel Dove was a perfect Doctor, and his horse Nobs was a perfect horse, and as I humbly hope their history will be a perfect history, so ought the Dedication thereunto to be perfect in its kind. Perfect therefore it shall be, as far as kalotypo- graphy can make it. For though it would be hopeless to exceed all former Dedications in the turn of a compliment or of a sentence, in the turn of the letters it is possible to exceed them all. It was once my fortune to employ a printer who had a love for his art ; and having a taste that way myself, we discussed the merits of a new font one day when I happened to call in upon him. I objected to the angular inclination of a capital italic A which stood upon its pins as if it were starting aghast from the next letter on the left, and was about to tumble upon that to the right ; in which case down would go the rest of the word, like a row of soldiers which children make with cards. My printer was too deeply enamoured with the beauties of his font, to have either tar or eye for its defects ; and hastily waving that point he called my attention to a capital R in the same line, which cocked up its tail just as if it had been nicked; that cock of the tail had fascinated him. " Look Sir," said he, while his eyes glistened with all the ardour of an amateur ; " look at that turn ! that's sweet, Sir ! " and drawing off the hand with the forefinger of which he had indicated it, he described in the air the turn that had delighted him, in a sort of heroic flourish, his head with a diminished axis, like the inner stile of a Pentegraph, follow- ing the movement. I have never seen that R since without remembering him. ***, *' '**. He who can read the stars, may read in them the secret which he seeketh. But the turns of my Dedication to the Bhow Begum shall not be trusted to the letter founders, a set of men remarkable for involving their craft in such mystery that no one ever taught it to another, every one who has practised it having been obliged either surreptitiously to obtain the secret, or to invent a method for himself. It shall be in the old English letter, not only because that alphabet hath in its curves and angles, its frettings and redundant lines, a sort of picturesque similitude with Gothic architec- ture, but also because in its breadth and beauty it will display the colour of the ink to most advantage. For the Dedication shall not be printed in black after the ordinary fashion, nor in white like the Sermon upon the Excise Laws, nor in red after the mode of Mr. Dibdin's half titles, but in the colour of that imperial encaustic ink, which by the laws of the Roman Em- pire it was death for any but the Roman Emperor himself to use. We Britons live in a free country, wherein every man may use what coloured ink seemeth good to him, and put as much gall in it as he pleases, or any other ingredient whatsoever. Moreover THE DOCTOR. this is an imperial age, in which to say nothing of M. Ingelby, the Emperor of the Conjurors, we have seen no fewer than four new Emperors. He of Russia, who did not think the old title of Peter the Great good enough for him ; he of France, for whom any name but that of Tyrant or Murderer is too good ; he of Austria, who took up one imperial appellation to cover over the humi- liating manner in which he laid another down ; and he of Hayti, who if he be wise will order all public business to be carried on in the talkee-talkee tongue, and make it high treason for any person to speak or write French in his dominions. We also must dub our old Parliament imperial forsooth! that we may not be behindhand with the age. Then we have Imperial Dining Tables ! Imperial Oil for nourish- ing the hair ! Imperial Liquid for Boot Tops! Yea, and, by all the Csosnis deified and damnified, Imperial Blacking ! For my part I love to go with the stream, so I will have an Imperial Dedication. Behold it, Reader. Therein is mystery. Cijr accumulation. To send a book like this into the world without a Preface would be as impossible as it is to appear at Court with- out a bag at the head and a sword at the tail ; for as the perfection of dress must be shown at Court, so in this history should the perfection of histories be exhibited. The book must be omni genere absolutum ; it must prove and exemplify the perfectibility of books : yea, with all imaginable respect for the " Delicate Investigation," which I leave in undisputed possession of an appellation so exquisitely appropriate, I conceive that the title of THE BOOK, as a popular designation Kar' eox}i-, should be transferred from the edifying report of that Inquiry, to the pre- sent unique, unrivalled, and unrivalable pro- duction ; a production the like whereof hath not been, is not, and will not be. Here however let me warn my Greek and Arabian translators how they render the word, that if they offend the Mufti or the Patriarch, the offence as well as the danger may be theirs : I wash my hands of both. I write in plain English, innocently and in the sim- plicity of my heart : what may be made of it in heathen languages concerns not me. CHAPTER I. A. I. NO BOOK CAN BE COMPLETE WITHOUT A PREFACE. I see no cause but men may pick their teeth, Though Brutus with a sword did kill himself. - TAYLOR, THE WATER POET. WHO was the Inventor of Prefaces ? I shall be obligejd to the immortal Mr. Urban (immortal, because like the king in law he never dies,) if he will propound this question for me in his Magazine, that great lumber- room wherein small ware of all kinds has been laid up higgledy-piggledy by half- penny- worths or farthing- worths at a time for four- score years, till, like broken glass, rags, or rubbisli, it has acquired value by mere ANTE-PREFACE. I here present thee with a hive of bees, laden some with wax, and some with honey. Fear not to approach ! There are no Wasps, there are no Hornets here. If some wanton Bee should chance to buzz about thine ears, stand thy ground and hold thy hands : there's none will sting thee if thou strike not first. If any do, she hath honey in her bag will cure thee too. QUARLES. "PEEFACES," said Charles Blount, Gent., who committed suicide because the law would not allow him to marry his brother's widow, (a law, be it remarked in passing, which is not sanctioned by reason, and which, instead of being in conformity with scripture, is in direct opposition to it, being in fact the mere device of a corrupt and greedy church) "Prefaces," said this flippant, ill-opinioned and unhappy man, "ever were, and still are but of two sorts, let other modes and fashions vary as they please. Let the pro- THE DOCTOR. fane long peruke succeed the godly cropt hair ; the cravat, the ruff; presbytery, po- pery ; and popery presbytery again, yet still the author keeps to his old and wonted method of prefacing ; when at the beginning of his book he enters, either with a halter about his neck, submitting himself to his reader's inercy whether he shall be hanged, or no ; or else in a huffing manner he ap- pears with the halter in his hand, and threat- ens to hang his reader, if he gives him not his good word. This, with ttie excitement of some friends to his undertaking, and some few apologies for want of time, books, and the like, are the constant and usual shams of all scribblers as well ancient as modern." This was not true then, nor is it now ; but when he proceeds to say, " for my part I enter the lists upon another score," so say I with him ; and my Preface shall say the rest. PREFACE. Oh for a quill pluck'd from a Seraph's wing ! YOCNG. So the Poet exclaimed ; and his exclamation may be quoted as one example more of the vanity of human wishes ; for, in order to get a Seraph's quill it would be necessary, ac- cording to Mrs. Glasse's excellent item in her directions for roasting a hare, to begin by catching a Seraph. A quill from a Seraph's wing is, I confess, above my ambi- tion ; but one from a Peacock's tail was within my reach ; and be it known unto all people, nations and languages, that with a Peacock's quill this Preface hath been pen- ned literally truly, and bona-fidely speak- ing. And this is to write, as the learned old Pasquier says, pavonesquement, which in Latin minted for the nonce may be rendered paeomci, and in English peacockically or peacockishly, whichever the reader may like best. That such a pen has verily and indeed been used upon this occasion I affirm. I affirm it upon the word of a true man ; and here is a Captain of his Majesty's Navy at my elbow, who himself made the pen, and who, if evidence were required to the fact, would attest it by as round an oath as ever rolled over a right English tongue. Nor will the time easily escape his remembrance, the bells being at this moment ringing, June 4. 1814, to celebrate the King's birth-day, and the public notification that peace has been concluded with France. I have oftentimes had the happiness of seeing due commendation bestowed by gentle critics, unknown admirers and partial friends upon my pen, which has been married to all amiable epithets: classical, fine, powerful, tender, touching, pathetic, strong, fanciful, daring, elegant, sublime, beautiful. I have read these epithets with that proper satis- faction which, when thus applied, they could not fail to impart, and sometimes qualified the pride which they inspired by looking at the faithful old tool of the Muses beside me, worn to the stump in their service : the one end mended up to the quick in that spirit of economy which becomes a son of the Lackland family, and shortened at the other by the gradual and alternate processes of burning and biting, till a scant inch only is left above the finger place. Philemon Sol- land was but a type of me in this respect. Indeed I may be allowed to say that I have improved upon his practice, or at least that I get more out of a pen than he did, for in the engraved title-page to his Cyrupaedia, where there appears the Portrait of the Interpres marked by a great D inclosing the Greek letter * (which I presume designates Doctor Philemon) cetatis suce 80. A. 1632, it may be plainly seen that he used his pen only at one end. Peradventure he delighted not, as I do, in the mitigated ammoniac odour. But thou, O gentle reader, who in the exercise of thy sound judgment and natural benignity wilt praise this Preface, thou may- est with perfect propriety bestow the richest epithets upon the pen wherewith its immor- tal words were first clothed in material forms. Beautiful, elegant, fine, splendid, fanciful, will be to the very letter of truth : versatile it is as the wildest wit ; flexible as the most monkey-like talent ; and shouldst 10 THE DOCTOR. thou call it tender, I will whisper in thine ear that it is only too soft. Yet softness may be suitable ; for of my numerous readers one half will probably be soft by sex, and of the other half a very considerable proportion soft by nature. Soft therefore be the Pen and soft the strain. I have drawn up the window-blinds (though sunshine at this time acts like snuff upon the mucous membrane of my nose) in order that the light may fall upon this excellent Poet's wand as I wave it to and fro, making cuts five and six of the broad-sword exercise. Every feather of its fringe is now lit up by the sun; the hues of green and gold and amethyst are all brought forth ; and that predominant lustre which can only be likened to some rich metallic oxyd ; and that spot of deepest purple, the pupil of an eye for whose glorious hue neither metals nor flowers nor precious stones afford a resemblance : its likeness is only to be found in animated life, in birds and insects whom nature seems to have formed when she was most prodigal of beauty * : I have seen it indeed upon the sea t but it has been in some quiet bay when the reflection of the land combined with the sky and the ocean to produce it. And what can be more emblematic of the work which I am beginning than the splendid instrument wherewith the Preface is traced ? What could more happily typify the com- bination of parts, each perfect in itself when separately considered, yet all connected into one harmonious whole; the story running through like the stem or back-bone, which the episodes and digressions fringe like so many featherlets, leading up to that cata- strophe, the gem or eye-star, for which the whole was formed, and in which all terminate. They who are versed in the doctrine of sympathies and the arcana of correspond- ences as revealed to the Swedish Emanuel, will doubtless admire the instinct or inspira- tion which directed my choice to the pavo- nian Pen. The example should be followed by all consumers of ink and quill. Then would the lover borrow a feather from the * " Framed in the prodigality of nature." HiciiAitn III. turtle dove. The lawyer would have a large assortment of kite, hawk, buzzard and vul- ture : his clients may use pigeon or gull. Poets according to their varieties. Mr. , the Tom Tit. Mr. , the Water-wag- tail. Mr. , the Crow. Mr. , the Mocking-bird. Mr. , the Magpie. Mr. Mr. the Sky-lark. , the Swan. Mr. Lord the Eagle. , the Black Owl, others the Swan Critics some the Butcher Bird. Your challenger must indite with one from the wing of a game cock : he who takes advantage of a privileged situation to offer the wrong and shrink from the atone- ment will find a white featlier. Your dealers in public and private scandal, whether Jaco- bins or Anti-Jacobins, the pimps and pan- ders of a profligate press, should use none but duck feathers, and those of the dirtiest that can be found in the purlieus of Pimlico or St. George's Fields. But for the Editor of the Edinburgh Review, whether he dic- tates in morals or in taste, or displays his peculiar talent in political prophecy, he must continue to use goose quills. Stick to the goose, Mr. Jeffrey ; while you live, stick to the Goose ! INITIAL CHAPTER. 'E| o* Jij roc, treiJTO. HOMER. THEY who remember the year 1800 will re- member also the great controversy whether it was the beginning of a century, or the end of one ; a controversy in which all Maga- zines, all Newspapers, and all persons took part. Now as it has been deemed expedient to divide this work, or to speak more empha- tically this Opus, or more emphatically still this Ergon, into Chapters Ante-Initial and Post-Initial, a dispute of the same nature might arise among the commentators in after ages, if especial care were not now taken to mark distinctly the beginning. This there- fore, is the Initial Chapter, neither Ante nor Post, but standing between both ; the point of initiation, the goal of the Antes, the start- ing place of the Posts; the mark at which the former end their career, and from whence tho latter take their departure. THE DOCTOR, ETC. Eccoti il libra ; mettivi ben cur a, Iddio f ajuti e dia buona venlura. OKI. INNAM. CHAPTER I. P. L THE SUBJECT OF THIS HISTOET AT HOME AND AT TEA. If thou be a severe sour complexioned man, then I here disallow thee to be a competent judge. IZAAK WALTON. THE clock of St. George's had struck five. Mrs. Dove had just poured out the Doctor's seventh cup of tea. The Doctor was sitting in his arm-chair. Sir Thomas was purring upon his knees ; and Pompey stood looking up to his mistress, wagging his tail, some- times whining with a short note of im- patience, and sometimes gently putting his paw against her apron to remind her that he wished for another bit of bread and butter. Barnaby was gone to the farm : and Nobs was in the stable. CHAPTER H. P. I. WHEREIN CERTAIN QUESTIONS ARE PROPOSED CONCERNING TIME, PLACE, AND PERSONS. Quit? quid? ubi? quibus auxiliisf cur? quotnodo? quando? TECHNICAL VERSE. THUS have I begun according to the most approved forms ; not like those who begin the Trojan War from Leda's egg, or the History of Great Britain from Adam, or the Life of General Washington from the Dis- covery of the New World ; but in confor- mity to the Horatian precept, rushing into the middle of things. Yet the Giant Mouli- neau's appeal to his friend the story-telling Ram may well be remembered here ; Belter, mon ami, si tu vovlois commencer par le com- mencement, tu me ferois grand plaisir. For in the few lines of the preceding chapter how much is there that requires explanation ? Who was Nobs ? Who was Barnaby ? Who was the Doctor ? Who was Mrs. Dove ? The place, where ? The time, when ? The persons, who ? 1 maie not tell you all at once ; But as I maie and can, I shall By order tellen you it all. So saith Chaucer ; and in the same mind, facilius discimus qua congruo dicuntur ordine quam qua sparsim et confusim, saith Erasmus. Think a moment I beseech thee, Reader, what order is ! Not the mere word which is so often vociferated in the House of Commons or uttered by the Speaker ore rotundo, when it is necessary for him to assume the tone of Ztrg vi|/igp/Tnc; but order in its essence and truth, in itself and in its derivatives. Waving the Orders in Council, and the Order of the Day, a phrase so familiar in the disorderly days of the French National Con- vention, think, gentle Reader, of the order of Knighthood, of Holy Orders, of the orders of architecture, the Linnaean orders, the orderly Serjeant, the ordinal numbers, the Ordinary of Newgate, the Ordinary on Sundays at 2 o'clock in the environs of the Metropolis, the ordinary faces of those who partake of what is ordinarily provided for them there ; 12 THE DOCTOR. and under the auspices of Government itself, and par excellence the Extraordinary Ga- zette. And as the value of health is never truly and feelingly understood except in sickness, contemplate for a moment what the want of order is. Think of disorder in things remote, and then as it approaches thee. In the country wherein thou livest, bad ; in the town whereof thou art an inhabitant, worse ; in thine own street, worser; in thine own house, worst of all. Think of it in thy family, in thy fortune, in thine intestines. In thy affairs, distressing ; in thy members, painful ; in thy conduct, ruinous. Order is the sanity of the mind, the health of the body, the peace of the city, the security of the state. As the beams to a house, as the bones to the microcosm of man, so is order to all things. Abstract it from a Dictionary, and thou mayest imagine the inextricable confusion which would ensue. Reject it from the Alphabet, and Zerah Colburne himself could not go through the chriscross row. How then should I do without it in this history ? A Quaker, by name Benjamin Lay, (who was a little cracked in the head though sound at heart,) took one of his compositions once to Benjamin Franklin that it might be printed and published. Franklin, having looked over the manuscript, observed that it was deficient in arrangement ; it is no matter, replied the author, print any part thou pleasest first. Many are the speeches and the sermons and the treatises and the poems and the volumes which are like Benjamin Lay's book ; the head might serve for the tail, and the tail for the body, and the body for the head, either end for the middle, and the middle for either end ; nay, if you could turn them inside out like a polypus, or a glove, they would be no worse for the operation. When the excellent Hooker was on his death-bed, he expressed his joy at the pros- pect of entering a World of Order. CHAPTER III. P. I. WHOLESOME OBSERVATIONS LPOPJ THE VANITY OF FAME. Whosoever sh;ill address himself to write of matters of instruction, or of any other argument of importance, it behoveth that before he enter thereinto, he should reso- lutely determine with himself in what order he will handle the same ; so shall he best accomplish that he hath under- taken, and inform the understanding, and help the memory of the Reader. GWILLIM'S DISPLAY or HERALDRY. WHO was the Doctor ? We will begin with the persons for sundry reasons, general and specific. Doth not the Latin grammar teach us so to do, wherein the personal verbs come before the imper- sonal, and the Propria qua maribus precede all other nouns? Moreover by replying to this question all needful explanation as to time and place will naturally and of neces- sity follow in due sequence. Truly I will deliver and discourse The sum of all.* Who was the Doctor ? Can it then be necessary to ask ? Alas the vanity of human fame ! Vanity of vani- ties, all is Vanity ! " How few," says Bishop Jeremy Taylor, " have heard of the name of Veneatapadino Ragium ! He imagined that that there was no man in the world that knew him not : how many men can tell me that he was the King of Xarsinga ? " When I mention Arba, who but the practised textualist can call to mind that he was " a great man among the Anakim," that he was the father of Anak, and that from him Kir- jath-Arba took its name ? A great man ameng the Giants of the earth, the founder of a city, the father of Anak ! and now there remaineth nothing more of liim or his race than the bare mention of them in one of the verses of one of the chapters of the Book of Joshua : except for that only record it would not now be known that Arba had ever lived, or that Hebron was originally called after his name. Vanitus vanitatum! Omnia vanitas. An old woman in a village in the West of England was told one day THE DOCTOR. 13 that the King of Prussia was dead, such a report having arrived when the great Fre- deric was in the noon-day of his glory. Old Mary lifted up her great slow eyes at. the news, and fixing them in the fulness of vacancy upon her informant, replied, " Is a ! is a ! The Lord ha' marcy ! Well, well ! The King of Prussia ! And who's lie ? " The " Who's he " of this old woman might serve as text for a notaole sermon upon am- bition. " Who's he " may now be asked of men greater as soldiers in their day than Frederic, or Wellington ; greater as disco- verers than Sir Isaac, or Sir Humphrey. Who built the Pyramids? Who ate the first Oyster? Vanitas vanitatum! Omnia vanitas. Why then doth flesh, a bubble-glass of breath, Hunt after honour and advancement vain, And rear a trophy for devouring Death, With so great labour and long-lasting pain, As if his days for ever should remain ? Sith all that in this world is great or gay, Doth as a vapour vanish and decay. Look back who list unto the former ages, And call to count what is of them become ; Whore be those learned wits and antique sages Which of all wisdom knew the perfect sum ? Where those great warriors which did overcome The world with conquest of their might and main, And made one mear * of the earth and of their reign ? t Who was the Doctor ? Oh that thou hadst known him, Reader ! Then should I have answered the question, if orally, by an emphasis upon the article, the Doctor ; or if in written words, THE DOCTOR thus giving the word that capital designation to which, as the head of his profession within his own orbit, he was so justly entitled. But I am not writing to those only who knew him, nor merely to the inhabitants of the West Riding, nor to the present generation alone : No ! to all York- shire, all England ; all the British Empire ; all the countries wherein the English tongue is, or shall be, spoken or understood; yea to all places, and all times to come. Para todos, as saith the famous Doctor Juan Perez * A mear 01 meer- stone, still means a boundary stone. The word is used in our Homilies. See fourth part of the Sermon for Rogation Week. t SPENSER. de Montalvan, Natural de Madrid, which is, being interpreted, a Spanish Cockney para todos ; porque es un aparato de varias materias, donde el Filosofo, el Cortesano, el Humanista, el Poeta, el Predicador, el Tea- logo, el Soldado, el Devoto, el Jurisconsidto, el Matematico, el Medico, el Soltero, el Ca- sado, el Religioso, el Minislro, el Plebeyo, el Sefior, el Oficial, y el Entretenido, hallaran juntamente utilidad y gusto, erudition y diver- timiento, doctrina y desahogo, recreo y ense- fianza, moralidad y alivio, ciencia y descanso, provecho y passatiempo, alabanzas y repre- hensiones, y ultimamente exemplos y donaires, que sin ofender las costumbres delecten el animo, y sazonen el entendimiento. Who was the Doctor ? The Doctor was Doctor Daniel Dove. CHAPTER IV. P. I. BIRTH AND PARENTAGE OF DOCTOR DOVE, WITH THE DESCRIPTION OF A YEOMAN'S HOUSE IN THE WEST RIDING OF YORK- SHIRE A HUNDRED YEARS AGO. Non possfdentem mulla vocavcris Recte beatum ; rectitts occupat Nomen beati, qui Deo^um Muneribus sapienter utf, Duramque collet pavperiem pati, Pejusque letho fiagitium timet. HORAT. Od. DANIEL, the son of Daniel Dove and of Dinah his wife, was born near Ingleton in the West Riding of Yorkshire, on Monday the twenty-second of April, old style, 1723, nine minutes and three seconds after three in the afternoon ; on which day Marriage came in and Mercury was with the Moon ; and the aspects were D Jj $ : a week earlier, it would have been a most glorious Trine of the Sun and Jupiter; circum- stances which were all duly noted in the blank leaf of the family Bible. Daniel, the father, was one of a race of men who unhappily are now almost extinct. He lived upon an estate of six and twenty acres which his fathers had possessed before him, all Doves and Daniels, in uninterrupted succession from time immemorial, farther 14 THE DOCTOR. than registers or title deeds could ascend. The little church, called Chapel le Dale, stands about a bow-shot from the family house. There they had all been carried to the font ; there they had each led his bride to the altar ; and thither they had, each in his turn, been borne upon the shoulders of their friends and neighbours. Earth to earth they had been consigned there for so many generations, that half of the soil of the churchyard consisted of their remains. A hermit who might wish his grave to be as quiet as his cell, could imagine no fitter resting place. On three sides there was an irregular low stone wall, rather to mark the limits of the sacred ground, than to inclose it; on the fourth it was bounded by the brook whose waters proceed by a subter- raneous channel from Wethercote cave. Two or three alders and rowan trees hung over the brook, and shed their leaves and seeds into the stream. Some bushy hazels grew at intervals along the lines of the wall ; and a few ash trees, as the winds had sown them. To the east and west some fields adjoined it, in that state of half cultivation which gives a human character to solitude : to the south, on the other side the brook, the common with its limestone rocks peering every where above ground, extended to the foot of Ingleborough. A craggy hill, fea- thered with birch, sheltered it from the north. The turf was as soft and fine as that of the adjoining hills; it was seldom broken, so scanty was the population to which it was appropriated ; scarcely a thistle or a nettle deformed it, and the few tomb-stones which had been placed there were now themselves half buried. The sheep came over the wall when they listed, and sometimes took shelter in the porch from the storm. Their voices, and the cry of the kite wheeling above, were the only sounds which were heard there, except when the single bell which hung in its niche over the entrance tinkled for ser- vice on the Sabbath day, or with a slower tongue gave notice that one of the children of the soil was returning to the earth from which he sprung. The house of the Doves was to the east of the church, under the same hill, and with the same brook in front ; and the intervening fields belonged to the family. It was a low house, having before it a little garden of that size and character which showed that the inhabitants could afford to bestow a thought upon something more than mere bodily wants. You entered between two yew trees clipt to the fashion of two pawns. There were hollyhocks and sunflowers dis- playing themselves above the wall ; roses and sweet peas under the windows, and the everlasting pea climbing the porch. Over the door was a stone with these letters. D D + M A.D. 1608. The A. was in the Saxon character. The rest of the garden lay behind the house, partly on the slope of the hill. It had a hedge of gooseberry-bushes, a few apple- trees, pot-herbs in abundance, onions, cab- bages, turnips and carrots; potatoes had hardly yet found their way into these re- mote parts : and in a sheltered spot under the crag, open to the south, were six bee- hives which made the family perfectly inde- pendent of West India produce. Tea was in those days as little known as potatoes, and for all other things honey supplied the place of sugar. The house consisted of seven rooms, the dairy and cellar included, which were both upon the ground floor. As you entered the kitchen there was on the right one of those open chimneys which afford more comfort in a winter's evening than the finest register stove ; in front of the chimney stood a wooden bee-hive chair, and on each side was a long oak seat with a back to it, the seats serving as chests in which the oaten bread was kept. They were of the darkest brown, and well polished by constant use. On the back of each were the same initials as those over the door, with the date 1610 The great oak table, and the cnest in the best kitchen which held the house-linen, THE DOCTOR. 15 bore the same date. The chimney was well hunt* with bacon, the rack which covered O half the ceiling bore equal marks of plenty ; mutton hams were suspended from other parts of the ceiling ; and there was an odour of cheese from the adjoining dairy, which the turf fire, though perpetual as that of the Magi, or of the Vestal Virgins, did not over- power. A few pewter dishes were ranged above the trenchers, opposite the door, on a conspicuous shelf. The other treasures of the family were in an open triangular cup- board, fixed in one of the corners of the best kitchen, half way from the floor, and touch- ing the ceiling. They consisted of a silver ! saucepan, a silver goblet, and four apostle spoons. Here also King Charles's Golden Rules were pasted against the wall, and a large print of Daniel in the Lion's Den. The Lions were bedaubed with yellow, and the Prophet was bedaubed with blue, with a red patch upon each of his cheeks : if he had been like his picture he might have fright- ened the Lions ; but happily there were no "judges" in the family, and it had been bought for its name's sake. The other print which ornamented the room had been pur- chased from a like feeling, though the cause was not so immediately apparent. It re- presented a Ship in full sail, with Joseph, and the Virgin Mary, and the Infant on board, and a Dove flying behind as if to fill the sails with the motion of its wings. Six black chairs were ranged along the wall, where they were seldom disturbed from their array. They had been purchased by Daniel the grandfather upon his marriage, and were the most costly purchase that had ever been made in the family ; for the goblet was a legacy. The backs were higher than the head of the tallest man when seated; the seats flat and shallow, set in a round frame, unaccommodating in their material, more unaccommodating in shape ; the backs also were of wood rising straight up, and ornamented with balls and lozenges and embossments; and the legs and cross bars were adorned in the same taste. Over the chimney were two Peacocks' feathers, some of the dry silky pods of the honesty flower, and one of those large " sinuous shells " so finely thus described by Landor : Of pearly hue Within, and they that lustre have imbib'd In the sun's palace porch ; where, when unyok'd, His chariot wheel stands midway in the wave. Shake one, and it awakens ; then apply Its polish'd lips to your attentive ear, And it remembers its august abodes, And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there. There was also a head of Indian corn there, and a back scratcher, of which the hand was ivory and the handle black. This had been a present of Daniel the grandfather to his wife. The three apartments above served equally for store-rooms and bed-chambers. William Dove the brother slept in one, and Agatha the maid, or Haggy as she was called, in another. CHAPTER V. P. 1. EXTENSION OF THE SCIENCE OF PHYSIOG- NOMY, WITH SOME REMARKS UPON TUB PRACTICAL USES OF CRANIOJLOGY. Hanc ergo scientiam blande excipiamus, hilariterq'ue amplectamur, ut vere nostrum et de nobismet ipsis trac- tantem ; quam qjii non amat, quam qui non itmplectitur, nee philosophiam amat, ncque sute vftee discrimina curat. BAPTISTA PORTA. THEY who know that the word physiognomy is not derived from phiz, and infer from that knowledge that the science is not confined to the visage alone, have extended it to hand- writings also, and hence it has become fashionable in this age of collectors to collect the autographs of remarkable persons. But now that Mr. Rapier has arisen, " the Re- former of illegible hands," he and his rival Mr. Carstairs teach all their pupils to write alike. The countenance however has fairer play in our days than it had in old times, for the long heads of the sixteenth century were made by the nurses, not by nature. Elon- gating the nose, flattening the temples, and raising the forehead are no longer performed by manual force, and the face undergoes now no other artificial modelling than such as may be impressed upon it by the aid of 1C THE DOCTOR. the looking-glass. So far physiognomy be- comes less difficult, the data upon which it has to proceed not having been falsified ab initio ; but there arises a question in what state ought they to be examined ? Dr. Gall is for shaving the head, and overhauling it as a Turk does a Circassian upon sale, that he may discover upon the outside of the skull the organs of fighting, murder, cunning, and thieving (near neighbours in his mappa cerebri), of comparing colours, of music, of sexual instinct, of philosophical judgment, &c. &c., all which, with all other qualities, have their latitudes and longitudes in the brain, and are conspicuous upon the outward skull, according to the degree in which they influence the character of the individual. It must be admitted that if this learned German's theory of craniology be well founded, the Gods have devised a much surer, safer, and more convenient means for discovering the real characters of the Lords and Ladies of the creation, than what Mo- mus proposed, when he advised that a window should be placed in the breast. For if his advice had been followed, and there had actually been a window in the sternum, it is, I think, beyond all doubt that a window- shutter would soon have been found indis- pensably necessary in cold climates, more especially in England, where pulmonary com- plaints are so frequent ; and, secondly, the wind would not be more injurious to the lungs in high latitudes, than the sun would be to the liver in torrid regions ; indeed, every where during summer it would be im- possible to exist without a green curtain, or Venetian blinds to the window ; and after all, take what precautions we might, the world would be ten times more bilious than it is. Another great physical inconvenience would also have arisen ; for if men could peep into their insides at any time, and see the motions and the fermentations which are continually going on, and the rise and pro- gress of every malady distinctly marked in the changes it produced, so many nervous diseases would be brought on by frequent inspection, and so many derangements from attempting to regulate the machine, that the only way to prevent it from making a full stop would be to put a lock upon the shutter, and deliver the key to the Physician. But upon Dr. Gall's theory how many and what obvious advantages result! Nor are they merely confined to the purposes of speculative physiognomy ; the uses of his theory as applied to practice offer to us hopes scarcely less delightful than those which seemed to dawn upon mankind with the discovery of the gasses, and with the commencement of the French Revolution, and in these later days with the progress of the Bible Society. In courts of Justice, for instance, how beautifully would this new science supply any little deficiency of evi- dence upon trial ! If a man were arraigned for murder, and the case were doubtful, but he were found to have a decided organ for the crime, it would be of little matter whether he had committed the specific fact in the in- dictment or not ; . for hanging, if not ap- plicable as punishment, would be proper for prevention. Think also in State Trials what infinite advantages an Attorney General might derive from the opinion of a Regius Professor of Craniology ! Even these are but partial benefits. Our Generals, Mi- nisters, and Diplomatists would then un- erringly be chosen by the outside of the head, though a criterion might still be wanted to ascertain when it was too thick and when too thin. But the greatest ad- vantages are those which this new system would afford to education ; for by the joint' efforts of Dr. Gall and Mr. Edgeworth we should be able to breed up men according to any pattern which Parents or Guardians might think proper to bespeak. The Doctor would design the mould, and Mr. Edgeworth, by his skill in mechanics, devise with charac- teristic ingenuity the best means of making and applying it. As soon as the child was born the professional cap, medical, military, theological, commercial, or legal, would be put on, and thus he would be perfectly pre- pared for Mr. Edgeworth's admirable system of professional education. I will pursue this subject no farther than just to hint that the materials of the mould may operate sympa- THE DOCTOR. 17 thetically, and therefore that for a lawyer in rus the cap should be made of brass, for a divine of lead, for a politician of base- metal, for a soldier of steel, and for a sailor of heart of English oak. Dr. Gall would doubtless require the naked head to be submitted to him for judge- ment. Contrariwise I opine, and all the Ladies will agree with me in this opinion, that the head ought neither to be stript, nor even examined in undress, but that it should be taken with all its accompaniments, when the owner has made the best of it, the ac- companiments being not unfrequently more indicative than the features themselves. Long ago the question whether a man is most like himself drest or undrest, was pro- pounded to the British Apollo ; and it was answered by the Oracle that a man of God Almighty's making is most like himself when undrest ; but a man of a tailor's, periwig- maker's, and sempstress's making, when drest. The Oracle answered rightly ; for no man can select his own eyes, nose, or mouth, but his wig and his whiskers are of his own choosing. And to use an illustrious instance, how much of character is there in that awful wig which alway in its box ac- companies Dr. Parr upon his visits of cere- mony, that it may be put on in the hall, with all its feathery honours thick upon it, not a curl deranged, a hair flattened, or a particle of powder wasted on the way ! But if we would form a judgement of the interior of that portentous head which is thus formidably obumbrated, how could it be done so well as by beholding the Doctor among his books, and there seeing the food upon which his terrific intellect is fed. There we should see the accents, quantities, dialects, digammas, and other such small gear as in these days constitute the complete armour of a perfect scholar ; and by thus discovering what goes into the head we might form a fair estimate of what was likely to come out of it. This is a truth which, with many others of equal importance, will be beautifully elucidated in this nonpareil his- toiy. For Daniel Dove, the Father, had a collection of books ; they were not so nu- merous as those of his contemporary Harley, famous for his library, and infamous for the Peace of Utrecht ; but he was perfectly conversant with all their contents, which is more than could be said of the Earl of Oxford. Reader, whether thou art man, woman, or child, thou art doubtless acquainted with the doctrine of association as inculcated by the great Mr. Locke and his disciples. But never hast thou seen that doctrine so richly and so entirely exemplified as in this great history, the association of ideas being, in oriental phrase, the silken thread upon which its pearls are strung. And never wilt thou see it so clearly and delightfully illustrated, not even if the ingenious Mr. John Jones should one day give to the world the whole twelve volumes in which he has proved the authenticity of the Gospel History, by bring- ing the narratives of the Four Evangelists to the test of Mr. Locke's metaphysics. " Desultoriness," says Mr. Danby, " may often be the mark of a full head ; connection must proceed from a thoughtful one." CHAPTER VI. P. I. A COLLECTION OP BOOKS NONE OF WHICH ARE INCLUDED AMONGST THE PUBLICA- TIONS OF ANY SOCIETY FOB THE PROMOTION OF KNOWLEDGE RELIGIOUS OK PROFANE. HAPPINESS IN HUMBLE LIFE. Fflix tile animi, divisgue simillimus ipsfs, Quern non mordaci resplendent gloria fuco Solicit/it, nonfastosi mala gaitdia luxvs, Sfd tacitos sinit ire dies, ft paupere cullu Exigit innocute tranquilla silentia vitte. POLITIAN. HAPPILY for Daniel, he lived before the age of Magazines, Reviews, Cyclopzedias, Elegant Extracts and Literary Newspapers, so that he gathered the fruit of knowledge for him- self, instead of receiving it from the dirty fingers of a retail vender. His books were few in number, but they were all weighty either in matter or in size. They consisted of the Morte d' Arthur in the fine black- letter edition of Copeland ; Plutarch's Morals IS THE DOCTOR. and Pliny's Natural History, two goodly folios, full as an egg of meat, and both trans- lated by that old worthy Philemon, who for the service which he rendered to his con- temporaries and to his countrymen deserves to be called the best of the Hollands, without disparaging either the Lord or the Doctor of that appellation. The whole works of Joshua Sylvester (whose name, let me tell the reader in passing, was accented upon the first syllable by his contemporaries, not as now upon the second); Jean Petit's His- tory of the Netherlands, translated and con- tinued by Edward Grimeston, another worthy of the Philemon order ; Sir Kenelm Digby's Discourses ; Stowe's Chronicle ; Joshua Barnes's Life of Edward III. ; " Ripley Revived by Eirenaeus Philalethes, an Englishman styling himself Citizen of the World," with its mysterious frontispiece re- presenting the Domus Natures, to which, Nil deest, nisi clavis : the Pilgrim's Progress : two volumes of Ozell's translation of Rabe- lais ; Latimer's Sermons ; and the last volume of Fox's Martyrs, which latter book had been brought him by his wife. The Pilgrim's Progress was a godmother's present to his son : the odd volumes of Rabelais he had picked up at Kendal, at a sale, in a lot with Ripley Revived and Plutarch's Morals : the others he had inherited. Daniel had looked into all these books, read most of them, and believed all that he read, except Rabelais, which he could not tell what to make of. He was not, however, one of those persons who complacently suppose every thing to be nonsense, which they do not perfectly comprehend, or flatter them- selves that they do. His simple heart judged of books by what they ought to be, little knowing what they are. It never oc- curred to him that any thing would be printed which was not worth printing, any thing which did not convey either reasonable delight or useful instruction : and he was no more disposed to doubt the truth of what he read, than to question the veracity of his neighbour, or any one who had no interest in deceiving him. A book carried with it to him authority in its very aspect. The Morte d' Arthur there fore he received for authentic history, just as he did the painful chronicle of honest John Stowe, and the Barnesian labours of Joshua the self-satisfied : there was nothing in it indeed which stirred his English blood like the battles of Cressy and Poictiers and Najara; yet on the whole he preferred it to Barnes's story, believed in Sir Tor, Sir Tristram, Sir Lancelot and Sir Lamorack as entirely as in Sir John Chandos, the Captal de Buche and the Black Prince, and liked them better. Latimer and Du Bartas he used some- times to read aloud on Sundays ; and if the departed take cognizance of what passes on earth, and poets derive any satisfaction from that posthumous applause which is generally the only reward of those who deserve it, Sylvester might have found some compensa- tion for the undeserved neglect into which his works had sunk, by the full and devout delight which his rattling rhymes and quaint collocations afforded to this reader. The silver-tongued Sylvester, however, was re- served for a Sabbath book ; as a week-day author Daniel preferred Pliny, for the same reason that bread and cheese, or a rasher of hung mutton, contented his palate better than a syllabub. He frequently regretted that so knowing a writer had never seen or heard of Wethercote and Yordas caves ; the ebbing and flowing spring at Giggleswick, Malham Cove, and Gordale Scar, that he might have described them among the wonders of the world. Omne ignotum pro magnifico is a maxim which will not in all cases hold good. There are things which we do not undervalue because we are familiar with them, but which are admired the more the more thoroughly they are known and understood ; it is thus with the grand objects of nature and the finest works of art, with whatsoever is truly great and excellent. Daniel was not deficient in ima- gination ; but no description of places which he had never seen, however exaggerated (as such things always are) impressed him so strongly as these objects in his own neigh- bourhood, which he had known from child- hood. Three or four times in his life it had THE DOCTOR. 19 happened that strangers with a curiosity as uncommon in that age as it is general in this, came from afar to visit these wonders of the West Riding, and Daniel accompanied them with a delight such as he never ex- perienced on any other occasion. But the Author in whom he delighted most was Plutarch, of whose works he was lucky enough to possess the worthier half: if the other had perished Plutarch would not have been a popular writer, but he would have held a higher place in the estimation of the judicious. Daniel could have posed a candidate for university honours, and perhaps the examiner too, with some of the odd learning which he had stored up in his memory from these great repositories of an- cient knowledge. Refusing all reward for such services, the strangers to whom he officiated as a guide, though they perceived that he was an extraordinary person, were little aware how much information he had acquired, and of how strange a kind. His talk with them did not go beyond the sub- jects which the scenes they came to visit naturally suggested, and they wondered more at the questions he asked, than at any thing which he advanced himself. For his dispo- sition was naturally shy, and that which had been bashfulness in youth assumed the ap- pearance of reserve as he advanced in life ; for having none to communicate with upon his favourite studies, he lived in an intellec- tual world of his own, a mental solitude as complete as that of Alexander Selkirk or Robinson Crusoe. Even to the Curate his conversation, if he had touched upon his books, would have been heathen Greek ; and to speak the truth plainly, without knowing a letter of that language, he knew more about the Greeks, than nine-tenths of the clergy at that time, including all the dissenters, and than nine-tenths of the schoolmasters also. Our good Daniel had none of that con- fidence which so usually and so unpleasantly characterizes self-taught men. In fact he was by no means aware of the extent of his acquirements, all that he knew in this kind having been acquired for amusement not for use. He had never attempted to teach him- self any thing. These books had lain in his way in boyhood, or fallen in it afterwards, and the perusal of them, intently as it was followed, was always accounted by him to be nothing more than recreation. None of his daily business had ever been neglected for it ; he cultivated his fields and his garden, repaired his walls, looked to the stable, tended his cows and salved his sheep, as diligently and as contentedly as if he had possessed neither capacity nor inclination for any higher employments. Yet Daniel was one of those men, who, if disposition and aptitude were not overruled by circum- stances, would have grown pale with study, instead of 1 being bronzed and hardened by sun and wind and rain. There were in him undeveloped talents which might have raised him to distinction as an antiquary, a vir- tuoso of the Royal Society, a poet, or a theologian, to whichever course the bias in his ball of fortune had inclined. But he had not a particle of envy in his composition. He thought indeed that if he had had grammar learning in his youth like the curate, he would have made more use of it; but there was nothing either of the sourness or bitterness (call it which you please) of repining in this natural reflection. Never indeed was any man more con- tented with doing his duty in that state of life to which it had pleased God to call him. And well he might be so, for no man ever passed through the world with less to dis- quiet or to sour him. Bred up in habits which secured the continuance of that humble but sure independence to which he was born, he had never known what it was to be anxious for the future. At the age of twenty-five he had brought home a wife, the daughter of a little landholder like himself, with fifteen pounds for her portion : and the true-love of his youth proved to him a faith- ful helpmate in those years when the dream of life is over, and we live in its realities. If at any time there had been some alloy in his happiness, it was when there appeared reason to suppose that in him his family would be extinct ; for though no man knows what parental feelings are till he has ex- 20 THE DOCTOR. perienced them, and Daniel therefore knew not the whole value of that which he had never enjoyed, the desire of progeny is natural to the heart of man; and though Daniel had neither large estates, nor an illus- trious name to transmit, it was an unwel- come thought that the little portion of the earth which had belonged to his fathers time out of mind, should pass into the possession of some stranger, who would tread on their graves and his own without any regard to the dust that lay beneath. That uneasy ap- prehension was removed after he had been married fifteen years, when to the great joy of both parents, because they had long ceased to entertain any hope of such an event, their wishes were fulfilled in the birth of a son. This their only child was healthy, apt, and docile, to all appearance as happily disposed in mind and body as a father's heart could wish. If they had fine weather for winning their hay or shearing their corn, they thanked God for it; if the season proved unfavourable, the labour was only a little the more and the crop a little the worse. Their stations secured them from want, and they had no wish beyond it. What more had Daniel to desire ? The following passage in the divine Du Bartus he used to read with peculiar satis- faction, applying it to himself : O thrice, thrice happy lie, who shuns the cares Of city troubles, and of state-affairs ; And, serving Ceres, tills with his own team, His own free land, left by his friends to him ! Never pale Envy's poisony heads do hiss To gnaw his heart : nor Vulture Avarice : His fields' bounds, bound his thoughts : he never sups For nectar, poison mixed in silver cups ; Neither in golden platters doth he lick For sweet ambrosia deadly arsenic : His hand's his bowl (better than plate or glass) The silver brook his sweetest hippocrass : Milk cheese and fruit, (fruits of his own endeavour) Drest without dressing, hath he ready ever. False counsellors (concealers of the law) Turncoat attorneys that with both hands draw ; Sly pettifoggers, wranglers at the bar, Proud purse-leeches, harpies of Westminster With feigned-chiding, and foul jarring noise, Break not his brain, nor interrupt his joys ; But cheerful birds chirping him sweet good-morrows With nature's music do beguile his sorrows ; Teaching the fragrant forests day by day The diapason of their heavenly lay. His wandering vessel, reeling to and fro On th' ireful ocean (as the winds do blow) With sudden tempest is not overwhurlrd, To seek his sad death in another world : But leading all his life at home in peace, Always in sight of his own smoke, no seas No other seas he knows, no other torrent, Than that which waters with its silver current His native meadows : and that very earth Shall give him burial which Grst gave him birth. To summon timely sleep, he doth not need ^thiop's cold rush, nor drowsy poppy-seed ; Nor keep in consort (as Mecsenasdid) Luxurious Villains (Viols 1 should have said) ; But on green carpets thrum'd with mossy bever, Fringing the round skirts of his winding river, The stream's mild murmur, as it gently gushes, His healthy limbs in quiet slumber hushes. Drum fife and trumpet, with their loud alarms, Make him not start out of his sleep, to arms ; Nor dear respect of some great General, Him from his bed unto the block doth call. The crested cock sings " Hunt-is-up " * to him, Limits his rest, and makes him stir betime, To walk the mountains and the flow'ry meads Impearl'd with tears which great Aurora sheds. Never gross air poisoned in stinking streets, To choke his spirit, his tender nostril meets ; But th' open sky where at full breath he lives, Still keeps him sound, and still new stomach gives. And Death, dread Serjeant of the Eternal Judge, Conies very late to his sole-seated lodge. CHAPTER VH. P. I. RUSTIC PHILOSOPHY. AN EXPERIMENT UPON MOONSHINE. Quicn comicnza enjuvenlud A bfen obrar, Setlal es dc no errar En senetud. Proverbios del Marques de Santillana. IT is not, however, for man to rest in abso- lute contentment. He is born to hopes and aspirations as the sparks fly upward, unless he has brutified his nature and quenched the spirit of immortality which is his por- tion. Having nothing to desire for himself, Daniel's ambition had taken a natural direc- tion and fixed upon his son. He was resolved that the boy should be made a scholar ; not with the prospect of advancing him in the * See Drayton's Poems, and Nare's Gloss, in v. J. If. (('. THE DOCTOR. Jl world, but in the hope that he might become a philosopher, and take as much delight in the books which he would inherit as his father had done before him. Riches and rank and' power appeared in his judgment to be nothing when compared to philosophy ; and herein he was as true a philosopher as if he had studied in the Porch, or walked the groves of Academus. It was not however for this, for he was as little given to talk of his opinions as to display his reading, but for his retired habits, and general character, and-some odd practices into which his books had led him, that he was commonly called Flossofer Daniel by his neighbours. The appellation was not affixed in derision, but respectfully and as his due ; for he bore his faculties too meekly ever to excite an envious or an ill- natured feeling in any one. Rural Flossofers were not uncommon in those days, though in the progress of society they have dis- appeared like Crokers, Bowyers, Lorimers, Armourers, Running Footmen, and other descriptions of men whose occupations are gone by. But they were of a different order from our Daniel. They were usually Phi- lomaths, Students in Astrology, or the Coelestial Science, and not unfrequently Empirics or downright Quacks. Between twenty and thirty almanacs used to be pub- lished every year by men of this description, some of them versed enough in mathematics to have done honour to Cambridge, had the fates allowed ; and others such proficients in roguery, that they would have done equal honour to the whipping-post. A man of a different stamp from either came in declining life to settle at Ingleton in the humble capacity of schoolmaster, a little before young Daniel was capable of more instruction than could be given him at home. Richard Guy was his name ; he is the person to whom the lovers of old rhyme are indebted for the preservation of the old poem of Flodden Field, which he transcribed from an ancient manuscript, and which was printed from his transcript by Thomas Gent of York. In his way through the world, which had not been along the King's high Dunstable road, Guy had picked up a competent share of Latin, a little Greek, some practical knowledge of physic, and more of its theory; astrology enough to cast a nativity, and more acquaintance with alchemy than has often been possessed by one who never burnt his fingers in its pro- cesses. These acquirements were grafted on a disposition as obliging as it was easy ; and he was beholden to nature for an under- standing so clear and quick that it might have raised him to some distinction in the world if he had not been under the influence of an imagination at once lively and credu- lous. Five and fifty years had taught him none of the world's wisdom; they had sobered his mind without maturing it ; but he had a wise heart, and the wisdom of the heart is worth all other wisdom. Daniel was too far advanced in life to fall in friendship ; he felt a certain degree of attractiveness in this person's company ; there was, however, so much of what may better be called reticence than reserve in his own quiet habitual manners, that it would have been long before their acquaintance ripened into any thing like intimacy, if an accidental circumstance had not brought out the latent sympathy which on both sides had till then rather been apprehended than understood They were walking together one day when young Daniel, who was then in his sixth year, looking up in his father's face, proposed this question : "Will it be any harm, Father, if I steal five beans when next I go into Jonathan Dowthwaites, if I can do it without any one's seeing me ? " "And what wouldst thou steal beans for?" was the reply, " when any body would give them to thee, and when thou knowest there are plenty at home ? " "But it won't do to have them given, Father," the boy replied. " They are to charm away my warts. Uncle William says I must steal five beans, a bean for every wart, and tie them carefully up in paper, and carry them to a place where two roads cross, and then drop them, and walk away without ever once looking behind me. And then the warts will go away from me, and THE DOCTOR. come upon the hands of the person that picks up the beans." "Nay boy," the Father made answer; " that charm was never taught by a white witch ! If thy warts are a trouble to thee, they would be a trouble to any one else ; and to get rid of an evil from ourselves Daniel, by bringing it upon another, is against our duty to our neighbour. Have nothing to do with a charm like that ! " " May I steal a piece of raw beef then," rejoined the boy, " and rub the warts with it and bury it ? For Uncle says that will do, and as the beef rots, so the warts will waste away." " Daniel," said the Father, " those can be no lawful charms that begin with stealing ; I could tell thee how to cure thy warts in a better manner. There is an infallible way, which is by wasliing the hands in moonshine, but then the moonshine must be caught in a bright silver basin. You wash and wash in the basin, and a cold moisture will be felt upon the hands, proceeding from the cold and moist rays of the moon." " But what shall we do for a silver basin ? " said little Daniel. The Father answered, " a pewter dish might be tried if it were made very bright ; but it is not deep enough. The brass kettle perhaps might do better." " Nay," said Guy, who had now begun to attend with some interest, " the shape of a kettle is not suitable. It should be a con- cave vessel, so as to concentrate the rays. Joshua Wilson I dare say would lend his brass basin, which he can very well spare at the hour you want it, because nobody comes to be shaved by moonlight. The moon rises early enough to serve at this time. If you come in this evening at six o'clock I will speak to Joshua in the mean time, and have the basin as bright and shining as a good scouring can make it. The experiment is curious and I should like to see it tried. Where Daniel didst thou learn it ? " "I read it," replied Daniel, " in Sir Kenelm Digby's Discourses, and he says it never fails." Accordingly the parties met at the ap- pointed hour. Mambrino's helmet, when new from the armourer's, or when furbished for a tournament, was not brighter than Guy had rendered the inside of the barber's basin. Schoolmaster, Father and Son' re- tired to a place out of observation, by the side of the river, a wild stream tumbling among the huge stones which it had brought down from the hills. On one of these stones sate Daniel the elder, holding the basin in such an inclination toward the moon that there should be no shadow in it ; Guy di- rected the boy where to place himself so as not to intercept the light, and stood looking complacently on, while young Daniel re- volved his hands one in another within the empty basin, as if washing them. " I feel them cold and clammy, Father ! " said the boy. (It was the beginning of November) " Ay," replied the father, " that's the cold moisture of the moon ! " " Ay ! " echoed the schoolmaster, and nodded his head in confirmation. The operation was repeated on the two following nights ; and Daniel would have kept up his son two hours later than his regular time of rest to continue it on the third if the evening had not set in with clouds and rain. In spite of the patient's belief that the warts would waste away and were wasting, (for Prince Hohenlohe could not require more entire faith than was given on this occasion,) no alteration could be per- ceived in them at a fortnight's end. Daniel thought the experiment had failed because it had not been repeated sufficiently often, nor perhaps continued long enough. But the Schoolmaster was of opinion that the cause of failure was in the basin : for that silver being the lunar metal would by affinity assist the influential virtues of the moonlight, which finding no such affinity in a mixed metal of baser compounds, might contrariwise have its potential qualities weakened, or even destroyed when received in a brasen vessel, and reflected from it. Flossofer Daniel assented to this theory. Nevertheless as the child got rid of his troublesome excrescences in the course of three or four months, all parties disregard- THE DOCTOR. 23 ing the lapse of time at first, and afterwards fairly forgetting it, agreed that the remedy had been effectual, and Sir Kenelin, if he had been living, might have procured the solemn attestation of men more veracious than himself that moonshine was an infal- lible cure for warts. CHAPTER VIII. P. I. A KIND SCHOOLMASTER AND A HAPPY SCHOOLBOY. Though happily thou wilt say that wands be to be wrought when they are green, lest they rather break than bend when they be dry, yet know also that he that bendeth a twig because he would see if it would bow by strength may chance to have a crooked tree when he would have a straight. ECPHLES. FROM this time the two Flossofers were friends. Daniel seldom went to Ingleton without looking in upon Guy, if it were between school hours. Guy on his part would walk as far with him on the way back, as the tether of his own time allowed, and frequently on Saturdays and Sundays he strolled out and took a seat by Daniel's fireside. Even the wearying occupation of hearing one generation of urchins after another repeat a-b-ab, hammering the first rules of arithmetic into leaden heads, and pacing like a horse in a mill the same dull dragging round day after day, had neither diminished Guy's good-nature, nor lessened his love for children. He had from the first conceived a liking for young Daniel, both be- cause of the right principle which was evinced by the manner in which he proposed the question concerning stealing the beans, and of the profound gravity (worthy of a Flos- sofer's son) with which he behaved in the affair of the moonshine. All that he saw and heard of him tended to confirm this favourable prepossession ; and the boy, who had been taught to read in the Bible and in Stowe's Chronicle, was committed to his tuition at seven years of age. Five days in the week (for in the North of England Saturday as well as Sunday is a Sabbath to the Schoolmaster) did young Daniel, after supping his porringer of oat- meal pottage, set off to school, with a little basket containing his dinner in his hand. This provision usually consisted of oat-cake and cheese, the latter in goodly proportion, but of the most frugal quality, whatever cream the milk afforded having been con- signed to the butter tub. Sometimes it was a piece of cold bacon or of cold pork ; and in winter there was the luxury of a shred pie, which is a coarse north country edition of the pie abhorred by puritans. The distance was in those days called two miles; but miles of such long measure that they were for him a good hour's walk at a cheerful pace. He never loitered on the way, being at all times brisk in his movements, and going to school with a spirit as light as when he returned from it, like one whose blessed lot it was never to have experienced, and therefore never to stand in fear of severity or unkindness. For he was not more a favourite with Guy for his docility, and regularity and diligence, than he was with his schoolfellows for his thorough good- nature and a certain original oddity of humour. There are some boys who take as much pleasure in exercising their intellectual faculties, as others do when putting forth the power of arms and legs in boisterous exertion. Young Daniel was from his childhood fond of books. William Dove used to say he was a chip of the old block ; and this hereditary disposition was regarded with much satisfaction by both parents, Dinah having no higher ambition nor better wish for her son, than that he might prove like his father in all things. This being the bent of his nature, the boy having a kind master as well as a happy home, never tasted of what old Lily calls (and well might call) the wearisome bitterness of the scholar's learning. He was never subject to the brutal discipline of the Udals and Busbys and Bowyers, and Parrs, and other less no- torious tyrants who have trodden in their steps ; nor was any of that inhuman injustice ever exercised upon him to break his spirit, for which it is to be hoped Dean Colet has 24 THE DOCTOR. paid in Purgatory ; to be hoped, I say, because if there be no Purgatory, the Dean may have gone farther and fared worse. Being the only Latiner in the school, his lessons were heard with more interest and less formality. Guy observed his progress with almost as much delight and as much hope as Daniel himself. A schoolmaster who likes his vocation feels toward the boys who deserve his favour something like a thrifty and thriving father toward the children for whom he is scraping together wealth ; he is contented that his humble and patient industry should produce fruit not for himself, but for them, and looks with pride to a result in which it is im- possible for him to partake, and which in all likelihood he may never live to see. Even some of the old Phlebotomists have had this feeling to redeem them. " Sir," says the Compositor to the Cor- rector of the Press, "there is no heading in the Copy for this Chapter. What must I do?" "Leave a space for it," the Corrector replies. " It is a strange sort of book ; but I dare say the Author has a reason for every thing that he says or does, and most likely you will find out his meaning as you set up."^ Right, Mr. Corrector ! you are a judicious person, free from the common vice of finding fault with what you do not understand. My meaning will be explained presently. And having thus prologized, we will draw a line if you please, and begin. TEN measures of garrulity, says the Talmud, were sent down upon the earth, and the women took nine. I have known in my time eight terrific talkers ; and five of them were of the mas- culine gender. But supposing that the Rabbis were right in allotting to the women a ninefold propor- tion of talkativeness, I confess that I have inherited my mother's share. I am liberal of my inheritance, and the Public shall have the full benefit of it. And here if my gentle Public will consider to what profitable uses this gift might have been applied, the disinterestedness of my disposition in having thus benevolently de- dicated it to their service, will doubtless be appreciated as it deserves by their discrimi- nation and generosity. Had I carried it to the pulpit, think how I might have filled the seats, and raised the prices of a private chapel ! Had I taken it to the bar, think how I could have mystified a judge, and bamboozled a jury ! Had I displayed it in the senate, think how I could have talked against time, for the purpose of delaying a division, till the expected numbers could be brought together ; or how efficient a part I could have borne in the patriotic design of impeding the business of a session, prolong- ing and multiplying the debates, and worry- ing a minister out of his senses and his life. Diis aliter visum. I am what I was to be, what it is best for myself that I should be, and for you, my Public, also. The rough-hewn plans of my destination have been better shaped for me by Providence than I could have shaped them for myself. But to the purpose of this chapter, which is as headless as the Whigs Observe, my Public, I have not said as brainless. . . If it were, the book would be worth no more than a new Tragedy of Lord Byron's ; or an old number of Mr. Jeffrey's Review, when its prophecies have proved false, its blunders have been exposed, and its slander stinks. Every thing here shall be in order. The digressions into which this gift of discourse may lead me must not interrupt the arrange- ment of our History. Never shall it be said of the Unknown that " he draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument." We have a journey to perform from Dan to Beersheba, and we must halt occasionally by the way. Matter will arise contingent to the story, correlative to it, or excrescent from it ; not necessary to its progress, and yet indispensable for THE DOCTOR. 25 your delight, my gentle Public, and for mine own ease. My Public would not have me stifle the afflatus when I am labouring with it, and in the condition of Elihu as described by himself in the 18th and 19th verses of the xxxii. chapter of the book of Job. Quemadmodum ccelator oculos dm intentos acfatigatos remittit atque avocat, et, ut did solet, pascit ; sic nos animum aliquando debe- mus relaxare et quibusdam oblectamentis re- ficere, Sed ipsa ollectamenta opera sint ; ex his quoque si observaveris, sumes quod possit fieri salutare.* But that the beautiful structure of this history may in no wise be deranged, such matter shall be distributed into distinct chapters in the way of intercalation ; a device of which as it respects the year, Adam is believed to have been the inventor; but according to the Author of the book of Jalkut, it was only transmitted by him to his descendants, being one of the things which he received by revelation. How then shall these Chapters be annomi- nated? Intercalary they shall not. That word will send some of my readers to John- son's Dictionary for its meaning ; and others to Sheridan, or Walker for its pronuncia- tion. Besides, I have a dislike to all mongrel words, and an especial dislike for strange compounds into which a preposition enters. I owe them a grudge. They make one of the main difficulties in Greek and German. From our own Calendars we cannot borrow an appellation. In the Republican one of our neighbours, when the revolu- tionary fever was at its height, the supple- mental days were called Sans-culottedes. The Spaniards would call them Dias Descami- sados. The holders of liberal opinions in England would term them Radical Days. A hint might be taken hence, and we might name them radical chapters, as having the root of the matter in them ; or ramal, if there were such a word, upon the analogy of the Branch Bible societies. Or ramage as the king of Cockayne hath his Foliage. But they would not be truly and philosophi- * SENKCA, Epist. 58. cally designated by these names. They are not branches from the tree of this history, neither are they its leaves ; but rather choice garlands suspended there to adorn it on festival days. They may be likened to the waste weirs of a canal, or the safety valves of a steam engine ; (my gentle Public would not have me stifle the afflatus /) interludes ; symphonies between the "acts ; volun- taries during the service ; resting places on the ascent of a church tower ; angular recesses of an old bridge, into which foot passengers may retire from carriages or horsemen ; houses-of-call upon the road ; seats by the way side, such as those which were provided by the Man of Ross, or the not less meritorious Woman of Chippenhain, Maud Heath of Langley Burrel, Hospices on the passages of the Alps, Capes of Good Hope, or Isles of St. Helena, yea, Islands of Tinian or Juan Fernandez, upon the long voyage whereon we are bound. Leap-chapters they cannot properly be called ; and if we were to call them Ha Has ! as being chapters which the Reader may leap if he likes, the name would appear rather strained than significant, and might be justly censured as more remarkable for affectation than for aptness. For the same reason I reject the designation of Inter- means, though it hath the sanction of great Ben's authority. Among the requisites for an accomplished writer Steele enumerates the skill whereby common words are started into new signifi- cations. I will not presume so far upon that talent ( modesty forbids me ) as to call these intervening chapters either Interpella- tions or Interpositions, or Interlocations, or Intervals. Take this, Reader, for a general rule, that the readiest and plainest style is the most forcible (if the head be but pro- perly stored ;) and that in all ordinary cases the word which first presents itself is the best ; even as in all matters of right and wrong, the first feeling is that which the heart owns and the conscience ratifies. But for a new occasion, a new word or a new composite must be formed. Therefore I will strike one in the mint of analogy, in 26 THE DOCTOR. which alone the king's English must be coined, and call them Interchapters and thus endetli INTERCHAPTER I. REMARKS IN THE PRINTING OFFICE. THE AUTHOR CONFESSES A DISPOSITION TO GARRULITY. PROPRIETY OF PROVIDING CERTAIN CHAPTERS FOR THE RECEPTION OF HIS EXTRANEOUS DISCOURSE. CHOICE OF AN APPEI^LATION FOR SUCH CHAPTERS. Perque vices aliquid, quod tempora longa videri Non tinat, in medium vacua* refer amus ad auret. OVID. CHAPTER IX. P. 1. EXCEPTIONS TO ONE OF KING SOLOMON'S RULES A WINTER'S EVENING AT DANIEL'S FIRESIDE. These are my thoughts ; I might have spun them out into a greater length, but I think a little plot of ground, thick sown, is better than a great field which, for the most part of it, lies fallow. NORMS. " TRAIN up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old his feet will not depart from it." Generally speaking it will be found so ; but is there any other rule to which there are so many exceptions ? Ask the serious Christian as he calls him- self, or the Professor (another and more fitting appellative which the Christian Pha- risees have chosen for themselves) ask him whether he has found it hold good? Whether his sons when they attained to years of discretion (which are the most in- discreet years in the course of human life) have profited as he expected by the long extemporaneous prayers to which they lis- tened night and morning, the sad sabbaths which they were compelled to observe, and the soporific sermons which closed the do- mestic religiosities of those melancholy days? Ask him if this discipline has prevented them from running headlong into the follies and vices of the age ? from being birdlimed by dissipation ? or caught in the spider's web of sophistry and unbelief? "It is no doubt a true observation," says Bishop Patrick*, " that the ready way to make the minds of youth grow awry, is to lace them too hard, by denying them their just freedom." Ask the old faithful servant of Mammon, whom Mammon has rewarded to his heart's desire, and in whom the acquisition of riches has only increased his eagerness for acquir- ing more ask him whether he has suc- ceeded in training up his heir to the same service ? He will tell you that the young man is to be found upon race-grounds, and in gaming-houses, that he is taking his swing of extravagance and excess, and is on the high road to ruin. Ask the wealthy Quaker, the pillar of the meeting most orthodox in heterodoxy, who never wore a garment of foi'bidden cut or colour, never bent his body in salutation, or his knees in prayer, never uttered the heathen name of a day or month, nor ever addressed himself to any person without religiously speaking illegitimate English, ask him how it has happened that the tailor has converted his sons ? He will fold his hands, and twirl his thumbs mournfully in silence. It has not been for want of train- ing them in the way wherein it was his wish that they should go. You are about, Sir, to send your son to a public school ; Eton or Westminster ; Winchester or Harrow ; Rugby or the Charter House, no matter which. He may come from either an accomplished scholar to the utmost extent that school education can make him so ; he may be the better both for its discipline and its want of disci- pline ; it may serve him excellently well as a preparatory school for the world into which he is about to enter. But also he may come away an empty coxcomb or a hardened brute a spendthrift a profli- gate a blackguard or a sot. To put a boy in the way he should go, is like sending out a ship well found, well manned and stored, and with a careful captain ; but there are rocks and shallows in her course, * Fuller has the same remark in his notes on Jonah. " As for cards to play with, let us not wholly condemn them, lest lacing our consciences too straight, we make them to grow awry on the wrong side." p. 40. THE DOCTOR. 27 winds and currents to be encountered, and all the contingencies and perils of the sea. How often has it been seen that sons, not otherwise deficient in duty toward their parents, have, in the most momentous con- cerns of life, taken the course most opposite to that in which they were trained to go, going wrong where the father would have directed them aright, or taking the right path in spite of all inducements and endea- vours for leading them wrong ! The son of Charles Wesley, born and bred in Me- thodism and bound to it by all the strongest ties of pride and prejudice, became a papist. This indeed was but passing from one erro- neous persuasion to another, and a more in- viting one. But Isaac Casaubon also had the grief of seeing a son seduced into the Romish superstition, and on the part of that great and excellent man, there had been no want of discretion in training him, nor of sound learning and sound wisdom. Arch- bishop Leighton, an honour to his church, his country, and his kind", was the child of one of those firebrands who kindled the Great Rebellion. And Franklin had a son, who notwithstanding the example of his father (and such a father !) continued sted- fast in his duty as a soldier and a subject ; he took the unsuccessful side but ^ nunquam successu crescat honestum.* No such disappointment was destined to befal our Daniel. The way in which he trained up his son was that into which the bent of the boy's own nature would have led him ; and all circumstances combined to favour the tendency of his education. The country abounding in natural objects of sub- limity and beauty (some of these singular in their kind) might have impressed a duller imagination than had fallen to his lot ; and that imagination had time enough for its workings during his solitary walks to and from school morning and evening. His home was in a lonely spot ; and having nei- ther brother nor sister, nor neighbours near enough in any degree to supply their place as playmates, he became his father's com- * LUCAN. panion imperceptibly as he ceased to be his fondling. And the effect was hardly less apparent in Daniel than in the boy. He was no longer the same taciturn person as of yore ; it seemed as if his tongue had been loosened, and when the reservoirs of his knowledge were opened they flowed freely. Their chimney corner on a winter's even- ing presented a group not unworthy of Sir Joshua's pencil. There sate Daniel, richer in marvellous stories than ever traveller who in the days of mendacity returned from the East ; the peat fire shining upon a coun- tenance which weather-hardened as it was, might have given the painter a model for a Patriarch, so rare was the union which it exhibited of intelligence, benevolence and simplicity. There sate the boy with open eyes and ears, raised head, and fallen lip, in all the happiness of wonder and implicit belief. There sate Dinah, not less proud of her husband's learning than of the towardly disposition and promising talents of her son, twirling the thread at her spinning-wheel, but attending to all that past; and when there was a pause in the discourse, fetching a deep sigh, and exclaiming, "Lord bless us ! what wonderful things there are in the world!" There also sate Haggy, knitting stockings, and sharing in the comforts and enjoyments of the family when the day's work was done. And there sate William Dove; but William must have a chapter to himself. CHAPTER X. P. I. ONE WHO WAS NOT SO WISE AS HIS FRIENDS COULD HAVE WISHED, AND YET QUITE AS HAPPY AS IF HE HAD BEEN WISER. NE- POTISM NOT CONFINED TO POPES. There are of madmen as there are of tame, All humoured not alike. Some Apish and fantastic ; And though 'twould grieve a soul to see God's image So blemished and defaced, yet do they act Such antic and such pretty lunacies, That spite of sorrow, they will make you smile. DEKKER. WILLIAM DOVE was Daniel's only surviving brother, seven years his junior. He was 28 THE DOCTOR. born with one of those heads in which the thin partition that divides great wits from folly is wanting. Had he come into the world a century sooner, he would have been taken nolens volens into some Baron's household, to wear motley, make sport for the guests and domestics, and live in fear of the rod. But it was his better fortune to live in an age when this calamity rendered him liable to no such oppression, and to be precisely in that station which secured for him all the enjoyments of which he was capable, and all the care he needed. In higher life, he would probably have been consigned to the keeping of strangers who would have taken charge of him for pay ; in a humbler degree he must have depended upon the parish for support; or have been made an inmate of one of those moral lazar- houses in which age and infancy, the harlot and the idiot, the profligate and the unfor- tunate are herded together. William Dove escaped these aggravations of calamity. He escaped also that persecu- tion to which he would have been exposed in populous places where boys run loose in packs, and harden one another in impudence, mischief and cruelty. Natural feeling, when natural feeling is not corrupted, leads men to regard persons in his condition with a compassion not unmixed with . awe. It is common with the country people when they speak of such persons to point significantly at the head and say 'tis not all there; words denoting a sense of the mysterious- ness of our nature which perhaps they feel more deeply on this than on any other occa- sion. No outward and visible deformity can make them so truly apprehend how fear- fully and wonderfully we are made. William Dove's was not a case of fatuity. Though all was not there, there was a great deal. He was what is called half-saved. Some of his faculties were more than ordi- narily acute, but the power of self conduct was entirely wanting in him. Fortunately it was supplied by a sense of entire depend- ence which produced entire docility. A dog does not obey his master more dutifully than William obeyed his brother; and in this obedience there was nothing of fear ; with all the strength and simplicity of a child's love, it had also the character and merit of a moral attachment. The professed and privileged fool was generally characterised by a spice of kna- very, and not unfrequently of maliciousness : the unnatural situation in which he was placed, tended to excite such propensities and even to produce them. William had shrewdness enough for the character, but nothing of this appeared in his disposition ; ill-usage might perhaps have awakened it, and to a fearful degree, if he had proved as sensible to injury as he was to kindness. But he had never felt an injury. He could not have been treated with more tenderness in Turkey (where a degree of holiness is imputed to persons in his condition) than was uniformly shown him within the little sphere of his perambulations. It was sur- prising how much he had picked up within that little sphere. Whatever event occurred, whatever tale was current, whatever tradi- tions were preserved, whatever superstitions were believed, William knew them all ; and all that his insatiable ear took in, his me- mory hoarded. Half the proverbial sayings in Hay's volume were in his head, and as many more with which Hay was unac- quainted. He knew many of the stories which our children are now receiving as novelties in the selections from Grimm's Kinder und Haus-Marchen, and as many of those which are collected in the Danish Folk-Sagn. And if some zealous lover of legendary lore, (like poor John Leyden, or Sir Walter Scott,) had fallen in with him, the Shakesperian commentators might per- haps have had the whole story of St. With- old ; the Wolf of the World's End might have been identified with Fenris and found to be a relic of the Scalds : and Rauf Col- Iyer and John the Reeve might still have been as well known as Adam Bell, and Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudeslie. William had a great fondness for his nephew. Let not Protestants suppose that Nepotism is an affection confined to the dig- nitaries of the Roman Catholic Church. In THE DOCTOR. its excess indeed it is peculiarly a Papal vice, which is a degree higher than a Cardinal one ; but like many other sins it grows out of the corruption of a good feel- ing. It may be questioned whether fond uncles are not as numerous as unkind ones, notwithstanding our recollections of King Richard and the Children in the Wood. We may use the epithet nepotious for those who carry this fondness to the extent of doting, anil as expressing that degree of fondness it may be applied to William Dove : he was a nepotious uncle. The father regarded young Daniel with a deeper and more thoughtful, but not with a fonder affection, not with such a doting attachment. -Dinah herself, though a fond as well as careful mother, did not more thoroughly delight to hear Her early child mis-speak half-uttered words ; * and perhaps the boy, so long as he was in- capable of distinguishing between their moral qualities, and their relative claims to his respect and love and duty, loved his uncle most of the three. The father had no idle hours; in the intervals when he was not otherwise employed, one of his dear books usually lay open before him, and if he was not feeding upon the page, he was ruminat- ing the food it had afforded him. But Wil- liam Dove, from the time that his nephew became capable of noticing and returning caresses seemed to have concentred upon him all his affections. With children affec- tion seldom fails of finding its due return ; and if he had not thus won the boy's heart in infancy, he would have secured it in childhood by winning his ear with these mar- vellous stories. But he possessed another talent which would alone have made him a favourite with children, the power of imitating animal sounds with singular per- fection. A London manager would have paid him well for performing the cock in Hamlet. He could bray in octaves to a nicety, set the geese gabbling by addressing them in their own tongue, and make the turkey-cock spread his fan, brush his wing against the ground, and angrily gob-gobble in answer to a gobble of defiance. But he prided himself more upon his success with the owls, as an accomplishment of more dif- ficult attainment. In this Mr. Wordsworth's boy of Winander was not more perfect. Both hands were used as an instrument in producing the notes ; and if Pope could have heard the responses which came from barn and doddered oak and ivied crag, he would rather, (satirist as he was,) have left Ralph unsatirised, than have vilified one of the wildest and sweetest of nocturnal sounds. He was not less expert to a human ear in hitting off the wood-pigeon's note, though he could not in this instance provoke a reply. This sound he used to say ought to be natural to him, and it was wrong in the bird not to acknowledge his relation. Once when he had made too free with a lass's lips, he disarmed his brother of a reprehen- sive look, by pleading that as his name was William Dove it behoved him both to bill and to coo. CHAPTER XI. P. I. A WOED TO THE READER, SHOWING WHERE WE ARE, AND HOW WE CAME HERE, AND WHEREFORE J AND WHITHER WE ARE GOING. 'Tis my venture On your retentive wisdom. BEN JONSON. READER, you have not forgotten where we are at this time : you remember I trust, that we are neither at Dan nor Beersheba ; nor anywhere between those two celebrated places ; nor on the way to either of them : but that we are in the Doctor's parlour, that Mrs. Dove has just poured out his seventh cup of tea, and that the clock of St. George's has struck five. In what street, parade, place, square, row, terrace or lane, and in what town, and in what county ; and on what day, and in what month, and in what year, will be explained in due time. You cannot but remember what was said in the second 30 THE DOCTOR. chapter post initium concerning the import- ance and the necessity of order in an under- taking like this. " All things," says Sir Thomas Brown, " began in order ; so shall they end, and so shall they begin again ; ac- cording to the ordainer of order, and mys- tical mathematics of the City of Heaven:" This awful sentence was uttered by the Philosopher of Norwich upon occasion of a subject less momentous than that whereon we have entered, for what are the mysteries of the Quincunx compared to the delineation of a human mind ? Be pleased only at pre- sent to bear in mind where we are. Place but as much confidence in me as you do in your review, your newspaper, and your apothecary ; give me but as much credit as you expect from your tailor ; and if your apothecary deserves that confidence as well, it will be well for you, and if your credit is as punctually redeemed, it will be well for your tailor. It is not without cause that I have gone back to the Doctor's childhood and his birth-place. Be thou assured, O Reader! that he never could have been seated thus comfortably in that comfortable parlour where we are now regarding him, never by possibility could have been at that time in that spot, and in those circum- stances; never could have been the Doc- tor that he was, nay, according to all reasonable induction, all tangible or imagi- nable probabilities, never would have been a Doctor at all, consequently thou never couldst have had the happiness of reading this delectable history, nor I the happiness of writing it for thy benefit and information and delight, had it not been for his father's character, his father's books, his schoolmaster Guy, and his Uncle William, with all whom and which, it was therefore indispensable that thou shouldst be made acquainted. A metaphysician, or as some of my con- temporaries would affect to say a psychologist, if he were at all a master of his art bablative (for it is as much an ars bablativa as the law, which was defined to be so by that old traitor and time-server Serjeant Maynard) a metaphysician I say, would not require more than three such octavo volumes as those of Mr. Malthus's Essay on Population, to prove that no existing circumstance could at this time be what it is, unless all preced- ing circumstances had from the beginning of time been precisely what they were. But, my good reader, I have too much re- spect for you, and too much regard for your precious time, and too much employment, or amusement (which is a very rational kind of employment) for my own, to waste it in demonstrating a truism. No man knows the value of time more feelingly than I do ! Man's life, Sir, being So short, and then the way that leads unto The knowledge of ourselves, so long and tedious, Each minute should be precious.* It is my wish and intention to make you acquainted with a person most worthy to be known, for such the subject of this history will be admitted to be : one whom when you once know him it will be impossible that you should ever forget: one for whom I have the highest possible veneration and regard ; (and though it is not possible that your feelings towards him should be what mine are) one who, the more he is known, will and must be more and more admired. I wish to introduce this person to you. Now, Sir, I appeal to your good sense, and to your own standard of propriety, should I act with sufficient respect either to yourself or him, if, without giving you any previous intimation, any information, concerning his character and situation in life ; or in any way apprising you who and what he was, I were to knock at your door and simply pre- sent him to you as Doctor Dove ? No, my dear Sir ! it is indispensable that you should be properly informed who it is whom I thus introduce to your acquaintance ; and if you are the judicious person that I suppose you to be, you will be obliged to me as long as you live. " For why," as old Higgins hath it, For why, who writes such histories as these Doth often bring the Reader's heart such ease As when they sit and see what he doth note, Well fare his heart, say they, this book that wrote ! El fare that reader's heart who of this * BEAUMONT and FLETCHER. THE DOCTOR. 31 book says otherwise ! " Tain suavia dicam facinora, ut male sit ei qui talibus nan delec- tetur!" said a very different person from old Higgins, writing in a different vein. I have not read his book, but so far as my own is concerned, I heartily adopt his malediction. Had I been disposed, as the Persians say, to let the steed of the pen expatiate in the plains of prolixity, I should have carried thee farther back in the generations of the Doves. But the good garrulous son of Garci- lasso my Lord (Heaven rest the soul of the Princess who bore him, for Peru has never produced any thing else half so pre- cious as his delightful books,) the Inca- blooded historian himself, I say, was not more anxious to avoid that failing than I am. Forgive me, Reader, if I should have fallen into an opposite error ; forgive me if in the fear of saying too much I should have said too little. I have my misgivings : I may have run upon Scylla while striving to avoid Charybdis. Much interesting matter have I omitted ; much have I passed by on which I " cast a longing lingering look be- hind ;" much which might worthily find a place in the History of Yorkshire; or of the West Riding (if that history were tri- partitively distributed;) or in the Gentle- man's Magazine ; or in John Nichols's Il- lustrations of the Literary History of the Eighteenth Century : (I honour John Ni- chols, I honour Mr. Urban!) much more might it have had place much more might it be looked for here ! I might have told thee, Reader, of Daniel the Grandfather, and of Abigail his second wife, who once tasted tea in the house- keeper's apartments at Skipton Castle ; and of the Great Grandfather who at the age of twenty-eight died of the small-pox, and was the last of the family that wore a leathern jerkin ; and of his father Daniel the atavus, who was the first of the family that shaved, and who went with his own horse and arms to serve in that brave troop, which during the wreck of the King's party the heir of Lowther raised for the loyal cause : and of that Daniel's Grandfather, (the tritavus) who going to Kentmere to bring home a wife was converted from the Popish super- stition by falling in with Bernard Gilpin on the way. That apostolic man was so well pleased with his convert, that he gave him his own copy of Latimer's sermons, that copy which was one of our Daniel's Sunday books, and which was religiously preserved in reverence for this ancestor, and for the Apostle of the North (as Bernard Gilpin was called), whose autograph it contained. The history of any private family, how- ever humble, could it be fully related for five or six generations, would illustrate the state and progress of society better than could be done by the most elaborate disser- tation. And the History of the Doves might be rendered as interesting and as in- structive as that of the Seymours or the Howards. Frown not, my Lord of Norfolk, frown not, your Grace of Somerset, when I add, that it would contain less for their de- scendants to regret. CHAPTER Xn. P. I. A HISTORY NOTICED WHICH IS WRITTEN BACKWARD. THE CONFDSION OF TONGDES AN ESPECIAL EVIL FOR SCHOOLBOYS. For never in the long and tedious tract Of slavish grammar was I made to plod ; No tyranny of Rules my patience rackt ; I served no prenticehood to any Rod ; But in the freedom of the Practic way Learnt to go right, even when I went astray. DR. BEAUMONT. IT has been the general practice of his- torians, from the time of Moses, to begin at the beginning of their subject : but as a river may be traced either from its sources or its mouth, so it appears that a history may be composed in the reversed order of its chronology; and a French author of very considerable ability and great learning has actually written a history of the Christian religion from his own times upwards. It forms part of an elaborate and extensive work entitled Parallels des Religions, which must have been better known than it ap- pears to be at present if it had not happened to be published in Paris during the most THE DOCTOR. turbulent year of the Revolution. Perhaps if I had carried back the memoirs of the Dove family, I might have followed his ex- ample in choosing the up-hill way, and have proceeded from son to father in the ascend- ing line. But having resolved (whether judiciously or not) not to go farther back in these family records than the year of our Lord 1723, being the year of the Doctor's birth, I shall continue in the usual course, and pursue his history ab incunubulis down to that important evening on which we find him now reaching out his hand to take that cup of tea which Mrs. Dove has just creamed and sugared for him. After all the beaten way is usually the best, and always the safest. "He ought to be well mounted," says Aaron Hill, " who is for leaping the hedges of custom." For myself I am not so adventurous a horseman as to take the hazards of a steeple chace. Proceeding, therefore, after the model of aTyburn biography, which being an ancient as well as popular form is likely to be the best, we come after birth and parentage to education. " That the world from Babel was scattered into divers tongues, we need not other proof," says a grave and good author, " than as Diogenes proved that there is motion, by walking ; so we may see the confusion of languages by our confused speaking. Once all the earth was of one tongue, one speech and one consent ; for they all spake in the holy tongue wherein the world was created in the beginning. But pro peccato dissentionis humana (as saith St. Austin,) for the sin of men disagree- ing, not only different dispositions but also different languages came into the world. They came to Babel with a disagreeing agreement ; and they came away punished with a speechless speech. They disagree among themselves, while every one strives for dominion. They agree against God in their Nagnavad Ian Liguda, we will make ourselves a rendezvous for idolatry. But they come away speaking to each other, but not understood of each other ; and so speak to no more purpose than if they spake not at :ill. This punishment of theirs at Babel is like Adam's corruption, hereditary to us ; for we never come under the rod at the Grammar School, but we smart for our ancestor's rebellion at Babel." Light lie the earth upon the bones of Richard* Guy, the Schoolmaster of Ingleton ! He never consumed birch enough in his vocation to have made a besom ; and his ferule was never applied unless when some moral offence called for a chastisement that would be felt. There is a closer connection between good-nature and good sense than is commonly supposed. A sour ill-tem- pered pedagogue would have driven Daniel through the briars and brambles of the Grammar and foundered him in its sloughs ; Guy led him gently along the green-sward. He felt that childhood should not be made altogether a season of painful acquisition, and that the fruits of the sacrifices then made are uncertain as to the account to which they may be turned, and are also liable to the contingencies of life at least, if not otherwise jeopardized. " Puisque le jour pent lui manquer, laissons le un pen jouir de FAurore ! " The precept which warmth of imagination inspired in Jean Jacques was impressed upon Guy's practice by gentleness of heart. He never crammed the memory of his pupil with such horrific terms as Prothesis, Aphaeresis, Epcnthesi.s, Syncope, Paragoge, and Apocope ; never questioned him concerning Appositio, Evo- catio, Syllepsis, Prolepsis, Zeugma, Syn- thesis, Antiptosis, and Synecdoche ; never attempted to deter him (as Lily says boys are above all things to be deterred) from those faults which Lily also says, seem al- most natural to the English, the heinous faults of lotacism, Lambdacism, (which Al- cibiades affected,) Ischnotesism, Trauli'sm and Plateasm. But having grounded him well in the nouns and verbs, and made him understand the concords, he then followed in part the excellent advice of Lily thus given in his address to the Reader : " When these concords be well known unto them (an easy and pleasant pain, if the foregrounds be well and thoroughly beaten in) let them not continue in learning of the THE DOCTOR. 33 rules orderly, as they lie in their Syntax, but rather learn some pretty book wherein is contained not only the eloquence of the tongue, but also a good plain lesson of honesty and godliness; and thereof take some little sentence as it lieth, and learn to make the same first out of English into Latin, not seeing the book, or construing it thereupon. And if there fall any necessary rule of the Syntax to be known, then to learn it, as the occasion of the sentence giveth cause that day ; which sentence once made well, and as nigh as may be with the words of the book, then to take the book and construe it ; and so shall he be less troubled with the parsing of it, and easiliest carry his lesson in mind." Guy followed this advice in part ; and in part he deviated from it, upon Lily's own authority, as "judging that the most suffi- cient way which he saw to be the readiest mean ; " while, therefore, he exercised his pupil in writing Latin pursuant to this plan, he carried him on faster in construing, and promoted the boy's progress by gratifying his desire of getting forward. When he had done with Cordery, Erasmus was taken up, for some of Erasmus's colloquies were in those days used as a school book, and the most attractive one that could be put into a boy's hands. After he had got through this, the aid of an English version was laid aside. And here Guy departed from the ordinary course, not upon any notion that he could improve upon it, but merely because he hap- pened to possess an old book composed for the use of Schools, which was easy enough to suit young Daniel's progress in the lan- guage, and might therefore save the cost of purchasing Justin or Phaedrus or Cornelius Nepos, or Eutropius, to one or other of which he would otherwise have been intro- duced. CHAPTER XIII. P. I. A DOUBT CONCERNING SCHOOL BOOKS, WHICH WILL BE DEEMED HERETICAL : AND SOME ACCOUNT OF AN EXTRAORDINARY SUBSTI- TUTE FOR OVID OR VIRGIL. They say it is an ill mason that refuseth any stone ; and there is no knowledge but in a skilful hand serves, either positively as it is, or else to illustrate some other know- ledge. HUBERT'S REMAINS. I AM sometimes inclined to think that pigs are brought up upon a wiser system, than boys at a grammar school. The Pig is allowed to feed upon any kind of offal, how- ever coarse, on which he can thrive, till the time approaches when pig is to commence pork, or take a degree as bacon ; and then he is fed daintily. Now it has sometimes appeared to me that in like manner, boys might acquire their first knowledge of Latin from authors very inferior to those which are now used in all schools ; provided the matter was unexceptionable and the Latinity good ; and that they should not be intro- duced to the standard works of antiquity till they are of an age in some degree to appreciate what they read. Understand me, Reader, as speaking doubtfully, and that too upon a matter of little moment ; for the scholar will return in riper years to those authors which are worthy of being studied, and as for the blockhead it signifies nothing whether the book which he consumes by thumbing it in the middle and dog-earing it at the corners be worthy or not of a better use. Yet if the dead have any cognizance of posthum- ous fame, one would think it must abate somewhat of the pleasure with which Virgil and Ovid regard their earthly immortality, when they see to what base purposes their productions are applied. That their verses should be administered to boys in regular doses, as lessons or impositions, and some dim conception of their meaning whipt into the tail when it has failed to penetrate the head, cannot be just the sort of homage to their genius which they anticipated or de- sired. THE DOCTOR. Not from any reasonings or refinements of this kind, but from the mere accident of possessing the book, Guy put into his pupil's hands the Dialogues of Johannes Ravisius Textor. Jean Tixier, Seigneur de Ravisy, in the Nivernois, who thus latinised his name, is a person whose works, according to Baillet's severe censure, were buried in the dust of a few petty colleges and unfre- quented shops, more than a century ago. He was, however, in his day a person of no mean station in the world of letters, having been Rector of the University of Paris, at the commencement of the sixteenth cen- tury; and few indeed are the writers whose books have been so much used; for perhaps no other author ever contributed so largely to the manufacture of exercises whether in prose or verse, and of sermons also. Textor may be considered as the first compiler of the Gradus ad Parnassum ; and that collec- tion of Apophthegms was originally formed by him, which Conrade Lycosthenes enlarged and re-arranged ; which the Jesuits adopted after expurgating it ; and which, during many generations, served as one of the standard common-place books for common- place divines in this country as well as on the continent. But though Textor was continually work- ing in classical literature with a patience and perseverance which nothing but the delight he experienced in such occupations could have sustained, he was without a particle of classical taste. His taste was that of the age wherein he flourished, and these his Dialogues are Moralities in Latin verse. The designs and thoughts which would have accorded with their lan- guage, had they been written either in old French or old English, appear, when pre- sented in Latinity, which is always that of a scholar, and largely interwoven with scraps from familiar classics, as strange as Harlequin and Pantaloon would do in he- roic costume. Earth opens the first of these curious compositions with a bitter complaint for the misfortunes which it is her lot to witness. Age (JEtas) overhears the lamentation and inquires the cause ; and after a dialogue in which the author makes the most liberal use of his own common-places, it appears that the perishable nature of all sublunary things is the cause of this mourning. JEtas en- deavours to persuade Terra that her grief is altogether unreasonable by such brief and cogent observations as Fata jubent, Fata volwit, Ita Diis placitum. Earth asks the name of her philosophic consoler, but upon discovering it, calls her falsa virago, and meretrix, and abuses her as being the very author of all the evils that distress her. However JEtas succeeds in talking Terra into better humour, advises her to exhort man that he should not set his heart upon perishable things, and takes her leave as Homo enters. After a recognition between mother and son, Terra proceeds to warn Homo against all the ordinary pursuits of this world. To convince him of the vanity of glory she calls up in succession the ghosts of Hector, Achilles, Alexander, and Sam- son, who tell their tales and admonish him that valour and renown afford no protection against Death. To exemplify the vanity of beauty Helen, Lais, Thisbe and Lucretia are summoned, relate in like manner their respective fortunes, and remind him that pidvis et umbra surnus. Virgil preaches to him upon the emptiness of literary fame. Xerxes tells him that there is no avail in power, Nero that there is none in tyranny, Sardanapalus that there is none in voluptu- ousness. But the application which Homo makes of all this, is the very reverse to what his mother intended: he infers that seeing he must die at last, live how he will, the best thing he can do is to make a merry life of it, so away he goes to dance and revel and enjoy himself: and Terra concludes with the mournful observation that men will still pursue their bane, unmindful of their latter end. Another of these Moralities begins with three Worldlings (Tres Mundutii) ringing changes upon the pleasures of profligacy, in Textor's peculiar manner, each in regular succession saying something to the same purport in different words. As thus THE DOCTOR. 35 PttlMUS Mt'NDANUS. Si breve Umpus abit, SKCUNDUS MUNDANUS. Si vita cad Ufa recedit j TERTICS MUNDANDS. Si cadit hot- a. PRIMUS MUNDANUS. Dies abeunt, SECUNDUS MUNDANUS. Peril Ornne, TBRTIUS MCNDANUS. fenil Mars, PRIMUS MUNDANUS. Quirlaam prodcsset Jati meminisse futuri ? SECUNDUS MUNDANUS. Quidnam prodesset lachrymis consumere vitam f TERTIUS MUXDANUS. Quidnam prodesset lands incumbere curis f Upon which an unpleasant personage who has just appeared to interrupt their tria- logue observes, Si breve tempus abit, si vita caduca recedit, Si cadit hora, dies abeunt, perit otnne, venil \tors, Quidnam IcthiJertB Mortis meminisse nocebitf It is Mors herself who asks the question. The three Worldlings, however, behave as resolutely as Don Juan in the old drama ; they tell Death that they are young, and rich, and active, and vigorous, and set all admonition at defiance. Death, or rather Mrs. Death, (for Mors, being feminine, is called lama, and meretrix, and virago,) takes all this patiently, and letting them go off in a dance, calls up Human Nature, who has been asleep meantime, and asks her how she can sleep in peace while her sons are lead- ing a life of dissipation and debauchery? Nature very coolly replies by demanding why they should not? and Death answers, because they must go to the infernal regions for so doing. Upon this Nature, who ap- pears to be liberally inclined, asks if it is credible that any should be obliged to go there ? and Death, to convince her, calls up a soul from bale to give an account of his own sufferings. A dreadful account this Danniatus gives ; and when Nature, shocked at what she hears, inquires if he is the only one who is tormented in Orcus, Damnatus assures her that hardly one in a thousand goes to Heaven, but that his fellow-sufferers are in number numberless ; and he specifies among them Kings and Popes, and Senators, and severe Schoolmasters, a class of men whom Textor seems to have held in great and proper abhorrence as if like poor Thomas Tusser he had suffered under their inhuman discipline. Horrified at this, Nature asks advice of Mors, and Mors advises her to send a Son of Thunder round the world, who should reprove the nations for their sins, and sow the seeds of virtue by his preaching. Pere- grinus goes upon this mission and returns to give an account of it. Nothing can be worse than the report. As for the Kings of the Earth, it would be dangerous, he says, to say what they were doing. The Popes suf- fered the ship of Peter to go wherever the winds carried it. Senators were won by in- tercession or corrupted by gold. Doctors spread their nets in the temples for prey, and Lawyers were dumb unless their tongues were loosened by money. Had he seen the Italians ? Italy was full of dissensions, ripe for war, and defiled by its own infamous vice. The Spaniards? They were suckled by Pride. The English ? Gens tacitis pr&gnans arcanis, ardua lentans, Edita tartar eis mini creditor esse tenebris. In short the Missionary concludes that he has found every where an abundant crop of vices, and that all his endeavours to pro- duce amendment have been like ploughing the sea shore. Again afflicted Nature asks advice of Mors, and Mors recommends that she should call up Justice and send her abroad with her scourge to repress the wicked. But Justice is found to be so fast asleep that no calling can awaken her. Mors then advises her to summon Veritas ; alas ! unhappy Veritas enters complaining of pains from head to foot and in all the in- termediate parts, within and without ; she is dying and entreats that Nature will call some one to confess her. But who shall be applied to ? Kings ? They will not come. Nobles ? Veritas is a hateful personage to them. Bishops, or mitred Abbots ? They have no regard for Truth. Some Saint from the desert ? Nature knows not where to find one ! Poor Veritas therefore dies " unhouseled, disappointed, unanealed;" and forthwith three Demons enter rejoicing that Human Nature is left with none to help her, 3G THE DOCTOR. and that they are Kings of this world. They call in their Ministers, Caro and Voluptas and Vitium, and send them to do their work among mankind. These successful mission- aries return, and relate how well they have sped every where ; and the Demons being by this time hungry, after washing in due form, and many ceremonious compliments among themselves, sit down to a repast which their ministers have provided. The bill of fare was one which Beelzebub's Court of Aldermen might have approved. There were the brains of a fat monk, a roasted Doctor of Divinity who afforded great satis- faction, a King's sirloin, some broiled Pope's fle-h, and part of a Schoolmaster ; the joint is not specified, but I suppose it to have been the rump. Then came a Senator's lights and a Lawyer's tongue. When they have eaten of these dainties till the distended stomach can hold no more, Virhis comes in, and seeing them send off the fragments to their Tartarean den, calls upon mankind to bestow some sustenance upon her, for she is tormented with hunger. The Demons and their ministers insult her and drive her into banishment ; they tell Nature that to-morrow the great King of Orcus will come and carry her away in chains ; off they go in a dance, and Nature concludes the piece by saying that what they have threat- ened must happen, unless Justice shall be awakened, Virtue fed, and Veritas restored to life by the sacred book. There are several other Dialogues in a similar strain of fiction. The rudest and perhaps oldest specimen of this style is to be found in Pierce Ploughman, the most polished in Calderon, the most popular in John Bunyan's Holy War, and above all in his Pilgrim's Progress. It appears from the Dialogues that they were not composed for the use of youth alone as a school book, but were represented at College ; and poor as they are in point of composition, the oddity of their combinations, and the wholesome honesty of their satire, were well adapted to strike young imaginations and make an im- pression there which better and wiser works might have failed to leave. A schoolmaster who had been regularly bred would have regarded such a book with scorn, and discerning at once its obvious faults, would have been incapable of per- ceiving any thing which might compensate for them. But Guy was not educated well enough to despise a writer like old Textor. What he knew himself, he had picked up where and how he could, in bye ways and corners. The book was neither in any re- spect above his comprehension, nor below his taste ; and Joseph Warton, never rolled off the hexameters of Virgil or Homer, ore rotunda, with more delight, when expatiating with all the feelings of a scholar and a poet upon their beauties, to such pupils as Head- ley and Russell and Bowles, than Guy para- phrased these rude but striking allegories to his delighted Daniel. CHAPTER XIV. P. I. AN OBJECTION ANSWERED. Is this then your wonder? Nay then you shall under- stand more of my skill. BEN JONSON. " THIS account of Textor's Dialogues," says a critical Reader, " might have done very well for the Retrospective Review, or one of the Magazines, or D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature. But no one would have looked for it here, where it is completely out of place." " My good Sir, there is quite enough left untouched in Textor to form a very amusing paper for the journal which you have men- tioned, and the Editor may thank you for the hint. But you are mistaken in thinking that what has been said of those Dialogues is out of place here. May I ask what you expected in these volumes ? " " W T hat the Title authorised me to look for." " Do you know, Sir, what mutton broth means at a city breakfast on the Lord Mayor's Day, mutton broth being the ap- pointed breakfast for that festival ? It means according to established usage by J THE DOCTOR. 37 liberal interpretation mutton broth and every thing else that can be wished for at a breakfast. So, Sir, you have here not only what the title seems to specify, but every thing else that can be wished for in a book. In treating of the Doctor, it treats de omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis. It is the Doctor &c., and that &c., like one of Lyttleton's, implies every thing that can be deduced from the words preceding. But I maintain that the little which has been said of comical old Textor (for it is little compared to what his Dialogues con- tain) strictly relates to the main thread of this most orderly and well-compacted work. You will remember that I am now replying to the question proposed in the third chap- ter P. I. " Who was the Doctor ? " And as he who should undertake to edite the works of Chaucer, or Spenser, or Shakespear would not be qualified for the task, unless he had made himself conversant with the writings of those earlier authors, from whose storehouses (as far as they drew from books) their minds were fed ; so it behoved me (as far as my information and poor ability ex- tend) to explain in what manner so rare a character as Dr. Dove's was formed. Quo semel est imbwta recens, you know the rest of the quotation, Sir. And perhaps you may have tasted water out of a beery glass, which it is not one or two rinsings that can purify. You have seen yw trees cut into the forms of pyramids, chess-kings, and pea- cocks : nothing can be more unlike their proper growth and yet no tree except the yew could take the artificial figures so well. The garden passes into the possession of some new owner who has no taste for such irnaments : the yews are left to grow at their own will ; they lose the preposterous shape which had been forced upon them, without recovering that of their natural growth, and what was formal becomes gro- tesque a word which may be understood as expressing the incongruous combination of formality with extravagance or wildness. The intellectual education which young Daniel received at home was as much out of the ordinary course as the book in which he studied at school. Robinson Crusoe had not yet reached Ingleton. Sandford and Merton had not been written; nor that history of Pecksey and Flapsey and the Robin's Nest, which is the prettiest fiction that ever was composed for children, and for which its excellent authoress will one day rank high among women of genius when time shall have set its seal upon desert. The only book within his reach, of all those which now come into the hands of youth, was the Pilgrim's Progress, and this he read at first without a suspicion of its allegorical import. What he did not understand was as little remembered as the sounds of the wind, or the motions of the passing clouds ; but the imagery and the incidents took possession of his memory and his heart. After a while Textor became an interpreter of the im- mortal Tinker, and the boy acquired as much of the meaning by glimpses as was desirable, enough to render some of the per- sonages more awful by spiritualising them, while the tale itself remained as a reality. Oh ! what blockheads are those wise persons who think it necessary that a child should comprehend every thing it reads ! CHAPTER XV. P.I. THE AUTHOR VENTURES AN OPINION AGAINST THE PREVAILING WISDOM OF MAKING CHILDREN PREMATURELY WISE. Pray you, use your freedom ; And so far, if you please allow me mine, To hear you only ; not to be compelled To take your moral potions. MASSINGER. "WHAT, SIB," exclaims a Lady, who is bluer than ever one of her naked and woad- stained ancestors appeared at a public festival in full dye, " what, Sir, do you tell us that children are not to be made to understand what they are taught?" And she casts her eyes complacently toward an assortment of those books which so many writers, male and female, some of the in- fidel, some of the semi-fidel, and some of the super-fidel schools have composed for the .38 THE DOCTOR. laudable purpose of enabling children to understand every thing. " What, Sir," she repeats, " are we to make our children learn things by rote like parrots, and fill their heads with words to which they cannot attach any signification ? " " Yes, Madam, in very many cases." " I should like, Sir, to be instructed why?" She says this in a tone, and with an ex- pression both of eyes and lips, which plainly show, in direct opposition to the words, that the Lady thinks herself much fitter to in- struct, than to be instructed. It is not her fault. She is a good woman, and naturally a sensible one, but she has been trained up in the way women should not go. She has been carried from lecture to lecture, like a student who is being crammed at a Scotch University. She has attended lectures on chemistry, lectures on poetry, lectures on phrenology, lectures on mnemonics ; she has read the latest and most applauded essays on Taste : she has studied the newest and most approved treatises practical and theo- retical upon Education : she has paid suf- ficient attention to metaphysics to know as much as a professed philosopher about matter and spirit : she is a proficient in political economy, and can discourse upon the new science of population. Poor Lady, it would require large draughts of Lethe to clear out all this undigested and undiges- tible trash, and fit her for becoming what she might have been ! Upon this point, how- ever, it may be practicable to set her right. " You are a mother, Madam, and a good one. In caressing your infants you may perhaps think it unphilosophical to use what I should call the proper and natural language of the nursery. But doubtless you talk to them; you give some utterance to your feelings ; and whether that utterance be in legitimate and wise words, or in good ex- temporaneous nonsense, it is alike to the child. The conventional words convey no more meaning to him than the mere sound ; but he understands from either all that is meant, all that you wish him to understand, all that is to be understood. He knows that it is an expression of your love anc tenderness, and that he is the object of it. " So too it continues after he is advanced from infancy into childhood. When children are beginning to speak they do not and cannot affix any meaning to half the words which they hear ; yet they learn their mother tongue. What I say is, do not attempt to force their intellectual growth. Do not feed them with meat till they have teeth to masticate it. " There is a great deal which they ought to learn, can learn, and must learn, before they can or ought to understand it. How many questions must you have heard from them which you have felt to be best answered, when they were with most dexterity put aside ! Let me tell you a story which the Jesuit Manuel de Vergara used to tell of himself. When he was a little boy he asked a Dominican Friar what was the meaning of the seventh commandment, for he said he could not tell what committing adultery was. The Friar not knowing how to answer, cast a perplexed look round the room, and think- ing he had found a safe reply pointed to a kettle on the fire, and said the Command- ment meant that he must never put his hand in the pot while it was boiling. The very next day, a loud scream alarmed the family, and behold there was little Manuel running about the room holding up his scalded finger, and exclaiming " Oh dear, oh dear, I've committed adultery ! I've committed adul- tery ! I've committed adultery ! " CHAPTER XVI. P. I. USE AND ABUSE OF STORIES IN SEASONING, WITH A WORD IN BEHALF OF CHIMNEY- SWEEPERS AND IN REPROOF OF THE EARL OF L4.UDERDALE. My particular inclination moves me in controversy especially to approve his choice that said, fortia mallem guamjormosa. DR. JACKSON. I ENDED that last chapter with a story, and though " I say it who should not say it," it is a good story well applied. Of what use a story may be even in the most serious de- bates may be seen from the circulation of THE DOCTOR. old Joes in Parliament, which are as current there as their sterling namesakes used to be in the city some threescore years ago. A jest, though it should be as stale as last week's newspaper, and as flat as Lord Floun- der's face, is sure to be received with laughter by the Collective Wisdom of the Nation : ray, it is sometimes thrown out like a tub to the whale, or like a trail of carrion to draw off hounds from the scent. The Bill which should have put an end to the inhuman practice of employing children to sweep chimneys, was thrown out on the third reading in the House of Lords (having passed the Commons without a dissentient voice) by a speech from Lord Lauderdale, the force of which consisted in, literally, a Joe Millar jest. He related that an Irish- man used to sweep his chimney by letting a rope down, which was fastened round the legs of a goose, and then pulling the goose after it. A neighbour to whom he recom- mended this as a convenient mode objected to it upon the score of cruelty to the goose : upon which he replied, that a couple of ducks might do as well. Now if the Bill before the house had been to enact that men should no longer sweep chimneys but that boys should be used instead, the story would have been apph'cable. It was no other- wise applicable than as it related to chimney-sweeping : but it was a joke, and that sufficed. The Lords laughed ; his Lordship had the satisfaction of throwing out the Bill, and the home Negro trade has continued from that time, now seven years, till this day, and still continues. His Lord- ship had his jest, and it is speaking within compass to say that in the course of those seven years two thousand children have been sacrificed in consequence. The worst actions of Lord Lauderdale's worst ancestor admit of a better defence before God and Man. Had his Lordship perused the evidence which had been laid before the House of Commons when the Bill was brought in, upon which evidence the Bill was founded ? Was he aware of the shocking barbarities connected with the trade, and inseparable from it ? Did he know that children in- evitably lacerate themselves in learning this dreadful occupation ? that they are fre- quently crippled by it? frequently lose their lives in it by suffocation, or by slow fire ? that it induces a peculiar and dread- ful disease? that they who survive the accumulated hardships of a childhood during which they are exposed to every kind of misery, and destitute of every kind of com- fort, have at the age of seventeen or eighteen to seek their living how they can in some other employment, for it is only by chil- dren that this can be carried on ? Did his Lordship know that girls as well as boys are thus abused ? that their sufferings begin at the age of six, sometimes a year earlier ? finally that they are sold to this worst and most inhuman of all slaveries, and sometimes stolen for the purpose of being sold to it ? I bear no ill-will towards Lord Lauder- dale, either personally or politically: far from it. His manly and honourable conduct on the Queen's trial, when there was such an utter destitution of honour in many quarters where it was believed to exist, and so fearful a want of manliness where it ought to have been found, entitles him to the respect and gratitude of every true Briton. But I will tell his Lordship that rather than have spoken as he did against an act which would have lessened the sum of wickedness and suffering in this country, rather than have treated a question of pure humanity with contempt and ridicule, rather than have employed my tongue for such a purpose and with such success, I would But no: I will not tell him how I had concluded. I will not tell him what I had added in the sincerity of a free tongue and an honest heart. I leave the sentence imperfect rather than that any irritation which the strength of my language might excite should lessen the salutary effects of self-condemnation. James Montgomery! these remarks are too late for a place in thy Chimney Sweepers' Friend : but insert them, I pray thee, in thy newspaper, at the request of one who ad- mires and loves thee as a Poet, honours and respects thee as a man, and reaches out in 40 THE DOCTOR. spirit at this moment a long arm to shake hands with thee in cordial good will. My compliments to you, Mr. Bowring! your little poem in Montgomery's benevolent album is in a strain of true poetry and right feeling. None but a man of genius could have struck off such stanzas upon such a theme. But when you wrote upon Hu- manity at Home, the useful reflection might have occurred that Patriotism has no busi- ness abroad. Whatever cause there may be to wish for amendment in the government and institutions of other countries, keep aloof from all revolutionary schemes for amending them, lest you should experience a far more painful disappointment, in their success than in their failure. No spirit of prophecy is required for telling you that this must be the result. Lay not up that cause of remorse for yourself, and time will ripen in you what is crude, confirm what is right, and gently rectify all that is erro- neous ; it will abate your political hopes, and enlarge your religious faith, and stablish both upon a sure foundation. My good wishes and sincere respects to you, Mr. Bowring ! INTERCHAPTER II. ABALLIBOOZOBANGANORRIBO. lo 'I di'co dunquc, e dicol che ognun m'ode. BENEDETTO VARCHI. WHETHER the secret of the Freemasons be comprised in the mystic word above is more than I think proper to reveal at present. But I have broken no vow in uttering it. And I am the better for having uttered it. Mahomet begins some of the chapters of the Koran with certain letters of unknown signification, and the commentators say that the meaning of these initials ought not to be inquired. So Gelaleddin says, so sayeth Taleb. And they say truly. Some begin with A. L. M. Some with K. H. I. A. S. ; some with T. H. ; T. S. M. ; T. S. or 'I. S. others with K. M. ; II. M. A. S. K. ; N. M. ; a single Kaf, a single Nun or a single Sad, and sad work would it be either for Kaffer or Mussulman to search for meaning where none is. Gelaleddin piously remarks that there is only One who knoweth the import of these letters ; I reverence the name which he uses too much to employ it upon this occasion. Mahomet himself tells us that they are the signs of the Book which teacheth the true doctrine, the Book of the Wise, the Book of Evidence, the Book of Instruction. When he speaketh thus of the Koran he lieth like an impostor as he is : but what he has said falsely of that false book may be applied truly to this. It is the Book of Instruction inasmuch as every individual reader among the thousands and tens of thousands who peruse it will find something in it which he did not know before. It is the Book of Evidence because of its internal truth. It is the Book of the Wise, because the wiser a man is the more he will delight therein ; yea, the delight which he shall take in it will be the measure of his intellectual capa- city. And that it teacheth the true doctrine is plain from this circumstance, that I defy the British Critic, the Antijacobin, the Quarterly and the Eclectic Reviews, ay, and the Evangelical, the Methodist, the Baptist, and the Orthodox Churchman's Ma- gazine, with the Christian Observer to boot, to detect any one heresy in it. Therefore I say again, Aballiboozobanganorribo, and, like Mahomet, I say that it is the Sign of the Book ; and therefore it is that I have said it ; Nondimen tie la lingua degli Hebrei Ni la Latina, ne la Greca antica, AV quella furse ancor degli Aramei.* Happen it may, for things not less strange have happened, and what has been may be again ; for may be and has been are only tenses of the same verb, and that verb is eternally being declined : Hap- pen I say it may ; and peradventure if it may it must ; and certainly if it must it will : but what with indicatives and subjunc- * MOLZA. THE DOCTOR. 41 lives, presents, praeterperfects and paulo- post-futura, the parenthesis is becoming too long for the sentence, and I must begin it again. A prudent author should never exact too much from the breath or the attention of his reader, to say nothing of the brains. Happen then it may that this Book may outlive Lord Castlereagh's Peace, Mr. Pitt's reputation (we will throw Mr. Fox's into the bargain) ; Mr. Locke's Metaphysics, and the Regent's Bridge in St. James's Park. It may outlive the eloquence of Burke, the discoveries of Davy, the poems of Words- worth, and the victories of Wellington. It may outlive the language in which it is written ; and, in heaven knows what year of heaven knows what era, be discovered by some learned inhabitant of that continent which the insects who make coral and ma- drepore are now, and from the beginning of the world have been, fabricating in the Pacific Ocean. It may be dug up among the ruins of London, and considered as one of the sacred books of the sacred Island of the West, for I cannot but hope that some reverence will always be attached to this most glorious and most happy island when its power and happiness and glory, like those of Greece, shall have passed away. It may be deciphered and interpreted, and give occasion to a new religion called Dovery or Danielism, which may have its Chapels, Churches, Cathedrals, Abbeys, Priories, Mo- nasteries, Nunneries, Seminaries, Colleges, and Universities ; its Synods, Consistories, Convocations, and Councils ; its Acolytes, Sacristans, Deacons, Priests, Archdeacons, Rural Deans, Chancellors, Prebends, Canons, Deans, Bishops, Archbishops, Prince Bishops, Primates, Patriarchs, Cardinals, and Popes; its most Catholic Kings, and its Kings most Dovish or most Danielish. It may have Commentators and Expounders (who can doubt that it will have them ?) who will leave unenlightened that which is dark, and darken that which is clear. Various inter- pretations will be given, and be followed by as many sects. Schisms must ensue ; and the tragedies, comedies, and farces, with all the varieties of tragi-comedy and tragi-farce or fareico-tragedy which have been repre- sented in this old world, be enacted in that younger one. Attack on the one side, de- fence on the other ; high Dovers and low Dovers ; Danielites of a thousand unima- gined and unimaginable denominations ; schisms, heresies, seditions, persecutions, wars, the dismal game of Puss-catch- corner played by a nation instead of a family of children, and in dreadful earnest, when power, property, and life are to be won and lost! But, without looking so far into the future history of Dovery, let me exhort the learned Australian to whom the honour is reserved of imparting this treasure to his countrymen, that he abstain from all attempts at disco- vering the mysteries of Aballiboozobanga- norribo! The unapocalyptical arcana of that stupendous vocable are beyond his reach ; so let him rest assured. Let him not plunge into the fathomless depths of that great word ; let him not attempt to soar to its unapproachable heights. Perhaps, and surely no man of judgement will sup- pose that I utter any thing lightly, per- haps, if the object were attainable, he might have cause to repent its attainment. If too " little learning be a dangerous thing," too much is more so ; D taper troppo qualche volta nuoce.* " Curiosity," says Fuller, " is a kernel of the Forbidden Fruit, which still sticketh in the throat of a natural man, sometimes to the danger of his choaking." There is a knowledge which is forbidden because it is dangerous. Remember the Apple! Remember the beautiful tale of Cupid and Psyche ! Remember Cornelius Agrippa's library ; the youth who opened in unhappy hour his magical volume ; and the choice moral which Southey, who always writes so morally, hath educed from that profitable story ! Remember Bluebeard ! But I am looking far into futurity. Blue- beard may be forgotten; Southey may be * MOLZA. 42 THE DOCTOR. J forgotten ; Cornelius Agrippa may be no more remembered ; Cupid and Psyche may be mere names which shall have outlived all tales belonging to them ; Adam and Eve Enough. Eat beans, if thou wilt, in spite of Pytha- goras. Eat bacon with them, for the Levi- tical law hath been abrogated : and indulge in black-puddings, if thou likest such food, though there be Methodists who prohibit them as sinful. But abstain from Aballi- boozobanganorribo. CHAPTER XVII. P. I. THE HAPPINESS OF HAVING A CATHOLIC TASTE. There's no want of meat, Sir ; Portly and curious viands are prepared To please all kinds of appetites. MASSINGER. A FASTIDIOUS taste is like a squeamish ap- petite ; the one has its origin in some disease of mind, as the other has in some ailment of the stomach. Your true lover of litera- ture is never fastidious. I do not mean the helluo librorum, the swinish feeder, who thinks that every name which is to be found in a title-page, or on a tombstone, ought to be rescued from oblivion ; nor those first cousins of the moth, who labour under a bulimy for black-letter, and believe every thing to be excellent which was written in the reign of Elizabeth. I mean the man of robust and healthy intellect, who gathers the harvest of literature into his barns, threshes the straw, winnows the grain, grinds it at his own mill, bakes it in his own oven, and then eats the true bread of knowledge. If he bake his loaf upon a cabbage leaf, and eat onions with his bread and cheese, let who will find fault with him for his taste, not I! The Doves, father as well as son, were blest with a hearty intellectual appetite, and a strong digestion : but the son had the more catholic taste. He would have relished caviare; would have ventured upon laver undeterred by its appearance and would have liked it. What an excellent thing did Goci bestow on man, When he did give him a good stomach ! * He would have eaten sausages for break- fast at Norwich, sally-luns at Bath, sweet butter in Cumberland, orange marmalade at Edinburgh, Findon haddocks at Aber- deen, and drunk punch with beef-steaks to oblige the French if they insisted upon obliging him with a dejeuner d TAngloise. A good digestion turneth all to health. f He would have eaten squab-pie in De- vonshire, and the pie which is squabber than squab in Cornwall ; sheep's head with the hair on in Scotland, and potatoes roasted on the hearth in Ireland ; frogs with the French, pickled herrings with the Dutch, sour-krout with the Germans, maccaroni with the Italians, aniseed with the Spaniards, garlic with any body; horse-flesh with the Tartars; ass-flesh with the Persians; dogs- with the North Western American Indians, curry with the Asiatic East Indians, birds' nests with the Chinese, mutton roasted with honey with the Turks, pismire cakes on the Orinoco, and turtle and venison with the Lord Mayor ; and the turtle and venison he would have preferred to all the other dishes, because his taste, though catholic, was not indiscriminating. He would have tried all, tasted all, thriven upon all, and lived content- edly and cheerfully upon either, but he would have liked best that which was best. And his intellectual appetite had the same happy Catholicism. He would not have said with Euphues, " If I be in Crete, I can lie ; if in Greece, I can shift ; if in Italy, I can court it : " but he might have said with him, " I can carouse with Alexander ; abstain with Romulus ; eat with the Epicure ; fast with the Stoic ; sleep with Endymion ; watch with Chry- sippus." The reader will not have forgotten, I trust, (but if he should I now remind him of it,) that in the brief inventory of Daniel's library there appeared some odd volumes of that " book full of Pantagruelism," the in- * BEAUMONT and FLETCHER. t HERBERT. THE DOCTOR. 43 estimable life of the Great Gargantua. The elder Daniel could make nothing of this book ; and the younger, who was about ten years old when he began to read it, less than he could of the Pilgrim's Progress. But he made out something. Young Daniel was free from all the isms in Lily, and from rhotacism to boot ; he was clear too of schism, and all the worse isms which have arisen from it: having by the blessing of Providence been bred up not in any denomination ending in ist or inian, or erian or arian, but as a dutiful and con- tented son of the Church of England. In humour, however, he was by nature a Pan- tagruelist. And, indeed, in his mature years he always declared that one of the reasons which had led him to reject the old hu- moral pathology was, that it did not include Pantagruelism, which, he insisted, depended neither upon heat or cold, moisture or dry- ness, nor upon any combination of those qualities ; but was itself a peculiar and ele- mentary humour ; a truth, he said, of which he was feelingly and experimentally con- vinced, and lauded the gods therefore. Mr. Wordsworth, in that poem which Mr. Jeffrey has said won't do (Mr. Jeffrey is always lucky in his predictions whether as a politician or a critic, bear witness, Wel- lington ! bear witness, Wordsworth and Southey ! bear witness, Elia and Lord Byron !) Mr. Wordsworth, in that poem which The high and tender Muses shall accept With gracious smile deliberately pleated, And listening Time reward with sacred praise : Mr. Wordsworth, in that noble poem, ob- serves, Oh many are the Poets that are sown By nature ! Among the emblems of Daniel Heinsius (look at his head, reader, if thou hast a collection of portraits to refer to, and thou wilt marvel how so queer a conceit should have entered it, for seldom has there been a face more gnarled and knotted with crabbed cogitation than that of this man, who was one of the last of the Giants;) among his emblems, I say, is one which represents Cupid sowing a field, and little heads spring- ing out of the ground on all sides, some up to the neck, others to the shoulders, and some with the arms out. If the crop were examined, I agree with Mr. Wordsworth, that poets should be found there as thick as darnel in the corn ; and grave counsellors would not be wanting whose advice would be that they should be weeded out. The Pantagruelists are scarcer. Greece produced three great tragic poets, and only one Aristophanes. The French had but one Rabelais when the seven Pleiades shone in their poetical hemisphere. We have seen a succession of great Tragedians from Better- ton to the present time ; and in all that time there has been but one Grimaldi in whom the Pantagruelism of Pantomine has found its perfect representative. And yet the reader must not hastily con- clude that I think Pantagruelism a better thing than Poetry, because it is rarer ; that were imputing to me the common error of estimating things by their rarity rather than their worth, an error more vulgar than any which Sir Thomas Brown has refuted. But I do hold this, that all the greatest poets have had a spice of Pantagruelism in their composition, which I verily believe was es- sential to their greatness. What the world lost in losing the Margites of Homer we know not, we only know that Homer had there proved himself a Pantagruelist. Shake- spear was a Pantagruelist ; so was Cer- vantes ; and till the world shall have produced two other men in whom that humour has been wanting equal to these, I hold my point established. Some one objects Milton. I thank him for the exception ; it is just such an excep- tion as proves the rule ; for look only at Milton's Limbo and you will see what a glo- rious Pantagruelist he might have been, if the Puritans had not spoilt him for Panta- gruelism. 44 THE DOCTOR. Tit CHAPTER xvm. p. i. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. itri/u.trirOu art rev Xoyw IP William Dove had been installed in office, with cap and bells and bauble, he would have been a Professor of Pantagruel- ism, and might have figured in Flb'gel's History of such Professors with Tyll Eulen- spiegel, Piovano Arlotto, and Peter the Lion ; and in Douce's Illustrations of Shake- spear with Muckle John, Rees Pengelding, and Robin Rush. The humour lay latent till the boy his nephew hit the spring by reading to him some of those chapters in Rabelais which in their literal grotesqueness were level to the capacity of both. These readings led to a piece of practical Panta- gruelism, for which William would have been whipt if he had worn a Fool's coat. One unlucky day, Dan was reading to him that chapter wherein young Gargantua relates the course of experiments which he had made with a velvet mask, a leaf of ver- vain, his mother's glove, a lappet worked with gold thread, a bunch of nettles, and other things more or less unfit for the pur- pose to which they were applied. To those who are acquainted with the history of Grandgousier's royal family, I need not explain what that purpose was ; nor must I to those who are not, (for reasons that re- quire no explanation,) farther than to say, it was the same purpose for which that wild enigma (the semi-composition of the Sphinx's Ghost) was designed, that enigma of all enigmas the wildest, On which was written William had frequently interrupted him with bursts of laughter ; but when they came to that crowning experiment in which Gargantua thought he had found the beau ideal of what he was seeking, William clapt his hands, and with an expression of glee in his countenance worthy of Eulenspiegel him- self, exclaimed, " Thou shalt try the Goose, Dan ! thou shalt try the Goose ! " So with William's assistance the Goose was tried. They began with due prudence, according to rule, by catching a Goose. In this matter a couple of Ducks, Lord Lauderdale knows, would not have answered as well. The boy then having gone through the ceremony which the devotees of Baal are said to have performed at the foot of his Image, as the highest act of devotion, (an act of super-reverence it was,) and for which the Jews are said to have called him in mockery Baalzebul instead of Baalzebub ; cried out that he was ready. He was at that moment in the third of those eight attitudes which form a RiKath. My readers who are versed in the fashionable poets of the day (this day I mean their fashion not being insured for to-morrow) such readers, I say, know that a rose is called a ghul, and a nightingale a bulbul, and that this is one way of dressing up English Poetry in Turkish Costume. But if they desire to learn a little more of what Maho- metan customs are, they may consult D'Ohs- son's Tableau of the Ottoman Empire, and there they may not only find the eight atti- tudes described, but see them represented. Of the third attitude or Rukeou, as it is de- nominated, I shall only say that the Ancients represented one of their Deities in it, and that it is the very attitude in which As in prcesenti committed that notorious act for which he is celebrated in scholastic and im- mortal rhyme, and for which poor Syntax bore the blame. Verbum nit sat sapieiiti. During the reign of Liberty and Equality a Frenchman was guillotined for exemplify- ing it under Marat's Monument in the Place du Carousal. The bird was brought, but young Daniel had not the strength of young Gargantua ; the goose, being prevented by William from drawing back, pressed forward ; they were by the side of the brook, and the boy by this violent and unexpected movement was, as the French would say in the politest and most delicate of all languages, culbute, or in sailors' English, capsized into the water. The misfortune did not end there ; for, fall- ing with his forehead against a stone, he THE DOCTOR. 4-5 received a cut upon the brow, which left a scar as long as he lived. It was not necessary to prohibit a repeti- tion of what William called the speriment. Both had been sufficiently frightened ; and William never felt more pain of mind than on this occasion, when the Father, with a shake of the head, a look of displeasure, and a low voice, told him he ought to have known better than to have put the lad upon such pranks ! The mishap, however, was not without its use. For, in after life, when Daniel felt an inclination to do any thing which might better be left undone, the recollection that he had tried the goose served as a salutary me- mento, and saved him, perhaps, sometimes from worse consequences. CHAPTER XIX. P. I. A CONVERSATION WITH MISS GBAVEAIKS. Operi susccpio inserviendum fuit ; so Jacobus Mycillus pleadeth for himself in his translation of Lucian's Dia- logues, and so do I ; I must and will perform my task. BURTON. " IT does not signify, Miss Graveairs ! you may flirt your fan, and overcloud that white forehead with a frown ; but I assure you the last chapter could not be dispensed with. The Doctor used to relate the story himself to his friends ; and often alluded to it as the most wholesome lesson he had ever received. My dear Miss Graveairs, let not those intel- ligent eyes shoot forth in anger arrows which ought to be reserved for other execu- tion. You ought not to be displeased ; ought not, must not, can not, shall not ! " " But you ought not to write such things, Mr. Author ; really you ought not. What can be more unpleasant than to be reading aloud, and come unexpectedly upon some- thing so strange that you know not whether to proceed or make a full stop, nor where to look, nor what to do ? It is too bad of you, Sir, let me tell you ! and if I come to any thing more of the kind, I must discard the book. It is provoking enough to meet with so much that one does not understand ; but to meet with any thing that one ought not to understand, is worse. Sir, it is not to be forgiven ; and I tell you again, that if I meet with any thing more of the same kind, I must discard the book." " Nay, dear Miss Graveairs ! " " I must, Mr. Author ; positively I must." " Nay, dear Miss Graveairs ! Banish Tris- tram Shandy ! banish Smollett, banish Fielding, banish Richardson ! But for the Doctor, sweet Doctor Dove, kind Doctor Dove, true Doctor Dove, banish not him ! Banish Doctor Dove, and banish all the world ! Come, come, good sense is getting the better of preciseness. That stitch in the forehead will not long keep the brows in their constrained position ; and the in- cipient smile which already brings out that dimple, is the natural and proper feeling." " Well, you are a strange man ! " " Call me a rare one, and I shall be satis- fied. ' O rare Ben Jonson,' you know, was epitaph enough for one of our greatest men." " But seriously, why should you put any thing in your book, which, if not actually exceptionable, exposes it at least to that sort of censure which is most injurious?" "That question, dear Madam, is so sen- sibly proposed, that I will answer it with all serious sincerity. There is nothing excep- tionable in these volumes ; ' Certes,' as Eu- phues Lily has said, ' I think there be more speeches here which for gravity will mislike the foolish, than unseemly terms which for vanity may ofFend the wise.' There is nothing in them that I might not have read to Queen Elizabeth, if it had been my for- tune to have lived in her golden days ; nothing that can by possibility taint the imagination, or strengthen one evil propen- sity, or weaken one virtuous principle. But they are not composed like a forgotten novel of Dr. Towers' s, to be read aloud in dissenting families instead of a moral essay, or a sermon ; nor like Mr. Kett's Emily, to complete the education of young ladies by supplying them with an abstract of universal knowledge. Neither have they any preten- 4G THE DOCTOR. sions to be placed on the same shelf with Coelebs. But the book is a moral book ; its tendency is good, and the morality is both the wholesomer and pleasanter because it is not administered as physic, but given as food. I don't like morality in doses." " But why, my good Mr. Author, why lay yourself open to censure ? " " Miss Graveairs, nothing excellent was ever produced by any author who had the fear of censure before his eyes. He who would please posterity must please himself by choosing his own course. There are only two classes of writers who dare do this, the best and the worst, for this is one of the many cases in which extremes meet. The mediocres in every grade aim at pleas- ing the public, and conform themselves to the fashion of their age whatever it may be." My Doctor, like the Matthew Henderson of Burns, was a queer man, and in that re- spect, I, his friend and biographer, humbly resemble him. The resemblance may be natural, or I may have caught it, this I pretend not to decide, but so it is. Perhaps it might have been well if I had resolved upon a farther designation of Chapters, and distributed them into Masculine and Femi- nine ; or into the threefold arrangement of virile, femiuile, and puerile ; considering the book as a family breakfast, where there should be meat for men, muffins for women, and milk for children. Or I might have adopted the device of the Porteusian So- ciety, and marked my chapters as they (very usefully) have done the Bible, pointing out what should be read by all persons for edifi- cation, and what may be passed over by the many, as instructive or intelligible only to the learned. Here, however, the book is, An orchard bearing several trees, And fruits of several taste.* Ladies and Gentlemen, my gentle Readers, one of our liveliest and most popular old Dramatists knew so well the capricious hu- mour of an audience that he made his Pro- logue say * MIDDLETON and ROWLEY'S Spanish Gipsey. He'd rather dress upon a Triumph-Day My Lord Mayor's Feast, and make them sauces too, Sauce for each several mouth ; nay further go, He'd rather build up those invincible Pies And Castle-Custards that affright all eyes, Nay, eat them all and their artillery, Than dress for such a curious company, One single dish. But I, gentle Readers, have set before yon a table liberally spread. It is not expected or desired that every dish should suit the palate of all the guests, but every guest will find something that he likes. You, Madam, may prefer those boiled chicken, with stewed celery, or a little of that frican- deau ; the Lady opposite will send her plate for some pigeon pie. The Doctor has an eye upon the venison and so I see has the Captain. Sir, I have not forgotten that this is one of your fast days I am glad, therefore, that the turbot proves so good, and that dish has been prepared for you. Sir John, there is garlic in the fri- cassee. The Hungarian wine has a bitterness which everybody may not like ; the Ladies will probably prefer Malmsey. The Cap- tain sticks to his Port, and the Doctor to his Madeira. Sir John, I shall be happy to take Sauterne with you. There is a splendid trifle for the young folks, which some of the elders also will not despise : and I only wish my garden could have fur- nished a better dessert ; but, considering our climate, it is not amiss. Is not this enter- tainment better than if I had set you all down to a round of beef and turnips ? If any thing be set to a wrong taste, Tis not the meat there, but the mouth's displaced ; Remove but that sick palate, all is well.* Like such a dinner I would have my book, something for everybody's taste, and all good of its kind. It ought also to resemble the personage of whom it treats ; and If ony whiggish whingin sot To blame the Doctor dare, man ; May dool and sorrow be his lot, For the Doctor was a rare man ! f Some whiggish sots, I dare say, will blame him, and whiggish sots they will be who do ! * BEN JONSON. t BURNS. THE DOCTOR, 47 "En un mot; mes amis,je riai entrepris de vous contenter tons en general; ainsi uns et autres en particidier, et par special, moy- meme." * CHAPTER XX. P. I. HOW TO MAKE GOLD. L'AlchimisIa non travaglia a voto ; E> cerca f oro, ef cerca V oro, io dico Ck' ei cerca I' oro ; e s' eigiungesse in porto Fora ben per se stesso e per altrui. L' oro e somnru posanza infra mortali ; Chiedine a Cavalier, chiedine a Dame, Chiedine a tvtlo il Mondo. CHIABKERA. WILLIAM had heard so much about experi- ments that it is not surprising he should have been for making some himself. It was well indeed for his family that the speculative mind, which lay covered rather than con- cealed under the elder Daniel's ruminating manners, and quiet contented course of life, was not quickened by his acquaintance with the schoolmaster into an experimental and dangerous activity, instead of being satisfied with theoretical dreams. For Guy had found a book in that little collection which might have produced more serious con- sequences to the father than the imitation of Gargantua had done to the son. This book was the Exposition of Eirenams Philalethes upon Sir George Ripley's Hermetico-Poetical works. Daniel had formerly set as little value upon it as upon Rabelais. He knew indeed what its purport was; thus much he had gathered from it : but although it professed to con- tain " the plainest and most excellent dis- coveries of the most hidden secrets of the Ancient Philosophers that were ever yet published," it was to him as unintelligible as the mysteries of Pantagruelism. He could make nothing of the work that was to ascend in Bus and Nubi from the Moon up to the Sun, though the Expositor had expounded that this was in Nubibus; nor of the Lake which was to be boiled with the ashes of Hermes's Tree, night and day without ceas- * PASQUIER. ing, till the Heavenly Nature should ascend and the Earthly descend : nor of the Crow's bill, the White Dove, the Sparkling Che- rubim, and the Soul of the Green Lion. But he took those cautions simply and honestly as cautions, which were in fact the lures whereby so many infatuated persons had been drawn on to their own undoing. The author had said that his work was not writ- ten for the information of the illiterate, and illiterate Daniel knew himself to be. " Our writings," says the dark Expositor, " shall prove as a curious edged knife ; to some they shall carve out dainties, and to others it shall serve only to cut their fingers. Yet we are not to be blamed ; for we do seriously profess to any that shall attempt the work, that he attempts the highest piece of phi- losophy that is in Nature ; and though we write in English, yet our matter will be as hard as Greek to some, who will think they understand us well, when they misconstrue our meaning most perversely ; for is it ima- ginable that they who are fools in Nature should be wise in our Books, which are testimonies unto Nature ? " And again, " Make sure of thy true matter, which is no small thing to know ; and though we have named it, yet we have done it so cunningly, that thou niayest sooner stumble at our Books than at any thou ever didst read in thy life. Be not deceived either with re- ceipt or discourse; for we verily do not intend to deceive you ; but if you will be deceived, be deceived ! Our way, which is an easy way, and in which no man may err, our broad way, our linear way, we have vowed never to reveal it but in metaphor. I, being moved with pity, will hint it to you. Take that which is not yet perfect, nor yet wholly imperfect, but in a way to perfection, and out of it make what is most noble and most perfect. This you may conceive to be an easier receipt than to take that which is already perfect, and extract out of it what is imperfect and make it perfect, and after out of that perfection to draw a plusquam per- fection ; and yet this is true, and we have wrought it. But this last discovery, which I hinted in few words, is it which no man 48 THE DOCTOR. ever did so plainly lay open ; nor may any make it more plain upon pain of an anathema." All this was heathen Greek to Daniel, except the admonition which it con- tained. But Guy had meddled with this perilous pseudo-science, and used to talk with him concerning its theory, which Daniel soon comprehended, and which like many other theories wanted nothing but a foundation to rest upon. That every thing had its own seed as well as its own form seemed a reasonable position ; and that the fermental virtue, " which is the wonder of the world, and by which water becomes herbs, trees and plants, fruits, flesh, blood, stones, minerals and every thing, works only in kind. Was it not then absurd to allow that the fermentive and multiplicative power existed in almost all other things, and yet deny it to Gold, the most perfect of all sublunary things?" The secret lay in ex- tracting from Gold its hidden seed. Ben Jonson has with his wonted ability presented the theory of this delusive art. His knavish Alchemist asks of an unbeliever, Why, what have you observed, Sir, in our art, Seems so impossible ? Surly. But your whole work, no more ! That you should hatch gold in a furnace, Sir, As they do eggs in Egypt. Subtle. Sir, do you Believe that eggs are hatch'd so ? Surly. If I should ? Subtle. Why, I think that the greater miracle. No egg but differs from a chicken more Than metals in themselves. Surly. That cannot be. The egg's ordained by nature to that end, And is a chicken inpotentia. Subtle. The same we say of lead and other metals, Which would be gold if they had time. Mammon. And that Our art doth further. Subtle. Ay, for 'twere absurd To think that nature in the earth bred gold Perfect in the instant : something went before. There must be remote matter. Surly. Ay, what is that ? Subtle. Marry we say Mammon. Ay, now it heats ; stand, father ; Pound him to dust. Subtle. It is, of the one part, A humid exhalation, which we cal. Materia liquida, or the unctuous water ; On the other part a certain crass and viscous Portion of earth ; both which concorporate Do make the elementary matter of gold ; Which is not yet propria materia, But common to all metals and all stones ; For where it is forsaken of that moisture, And hath more dryness, it becomes a stone ; Where it retains more of the humid fatness, It turns to sulphur, or to quicksilver, Who are the parents of all other metaU. Nor can this remote matter suddenly Progress so from extreme unto extreme, As to grow gold, and leap o'er all the means. Nature doth first beget the imperfect, then Proceeds she to the perfect. Of that airy And oily water, mercury is engendered ; Sulphur of the fat and earthy part ; the one, Which is the last, supplying the place of male, The other of the female in all metals. Some so believe hermaphrodeity, That both do act and suffer. But these too Make the rest ductile, malleable, extensive. And even in gold they are ; for we do find Seeds of them, by our fire, and gold in them ; And can produce the species of each metal More perfect thence than nature doth in earth. I have no cause to say here, with Sheik Mohammed AH Hazin, that " taste for poeti- cal and elegant composition has turned the reins of my ink-dropping pen away from the road which lay before it : " for this passage of learned Ben lay directly in the way ; and no where, Reader, couldst thou find the theory of the Alchemists more ably epi- tomised. " Father," said the boy Daniel one day, after listening to a conversation upon this subject, " I should like to learn to make gold." " And what wouldst thou do, Daniel, if thou couldst make it ? '' was the reply. " Why I would build a great house, and fill it with books ; and have as much money as the King, and be as great a man as the Squire." " Mayhap, Daniel, in that case thou wouldst care for books as little as the Squire, and have as little time for them as the King. Learning is better than house or land. As for money, enough is enough ; no man can enjoy more ; and the less he can be contented with the wiser and better he is likely to be. What, Daniel, does our good poet tell us in the great verse-book ? Nature's with little pleased ; enough's a feast : A sober life but a small charge requires : But man, the author of his own unrest, The more he hath, the more he still desires. No, boy, thou canst never be as rich as the THE DOCTOR, 49 King, nor as great as the Squire; but them mayest be a Philosopher, and that is being as happy as either." " A great deal happier," said Guy. " The Squire is as far from being the happiest man in the neighbourhood, as he is from being the wisest or the best. And the King, God bless him ! has care enough upon his head to bring on early grey hairs. Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." "But what does a Philosopher do?" re- joined the boy. " The Squire hunts and shoots and smokes, and drinks punch and goes to Justice-Meetings. And the King goes to fight for us against the French, and governs the Parliament, and makes laws. But I cannot tell what a Philosopher's busi- ness is. Do they do any thing else besides making Almanacks and gold ? " " Yes," said William, " they read the stars." " And what do they read there ?" " AVhat neither thou nor I can under- stand, Daniel," replied the father, " however nearly it may concern us ! " CHAPTER XXI. P. I. A DOUBT CONCERNING THE USES OF PHILOSOPHY. El comienzo de salud ei el saber, distingufr y conocer gun I es virtud. PROVERBIOS DEL MARQUES DE SANTILLANA. THAT grave reply produced a short pause. It was broken by the boy, who said, return- ing to the subject, " I have been thinking, Father, that it is not a good thing to be a Philosopher." " And what, my Son, has led thee to that thought ? " " What I have read at the end of the Dic- tionary, Father. There was one Philosopher that was pounded in a mortar." " That, Daniel," said the Father, " could neither have been the Philosopher's fault nor his choice." "But it was because he was a Philosopher, my lad," said Guy, " that he bore it so bravely, and said, beat on, you can only bruise the shell of Anaxarchus! If he had not been a Philosopher they might have pounded him just the same, but they would never have put him in the Dictionary. Epictetus in like manner bore the torments which his wicked master inflicted upon him, without a groan, only saying, ' Take care, or you will break my leg;' and when the leg was broken, he looked the wretch in the face and said, ' I told you you would break it.' " " But," said the youngster, " there was one Philosopher who chose to live in a tub ; and another who, that he might never again see any thing to withdraw his mind from meditation, put out his eyes by looking upon a bright brass basin, such as I cured my warts in." " He might have been a wise man," said William Dove, " but not wondrous wise : for if he had, he would not have used the basin to put his eyes out. He would have jumped into a quickset hedge, and scratched them out, like the Man of our Town ; be- cause when he saw his eyes were out, he might then have jumped into another hedge and scratched them in again. The Man of our Town was the greatest philosopher of the two." " And there was one," continued the boy, "who had better have blinded himself at once, for he did nothing else but cry at every thing he saw. Was not this being very foolish ? " " I am sure," says William, " it was not being merry and wise." " There was another who said that hunger was his daily food." " He must have kept such a table as Duke Humphrey," quoth William ; " I should not have liked to dine with him." " Then there was Crates," said the perse- vering boy ; " he had a good estate and sold it and threw the money into the sea, saying, ' Away ye paltry cares ! I will drown you that you may not drown me.'" 50 THE DOCTOR. " I should like to know," quoth William, " what the overseers said to that chap, when he applied to the parish for support." " They sent him off to Bedlam, I suppose," said the Mother, " it was the fit place for him, poor creature." " And when Aristippus set out upon a journey he bade his servants throw away all their money, that they might travel the better. Why they must have begged their way, 'and it cannot be right to beg if people are not brought to it by misfortune. And there were some who thought there was no God. I am sure they were fools, for the Bible says so." "Well, Daniel," said Guy, "thou hast studied the end of the Dictionary to some purpose ! " " And the Bible too, Master Guy ! " said Dinah, her countenance brightening with joy at her son's concluding remark. " It's the best part of the book," said the boy, replying to his schoolmaster ; " there are more entertaining and surprising things there than I ever read in any other place, except in my Father's book about Panta- gruel." CHAPTER XXH. P. I. Tbv S 1 a Ofelice colui, che intender puote Le cagion de le cose di natura, Che al piu di que' che vivon sono ignote ; E sot to il pie si mette ogni paura Defati, e de la marie, ch'e si trista, Nedivulgoglical, ni d'a/tro ha cura. TANSILLO. THE elder Daniel had listened to this dia- logue in his usual quiet way, smiling some- times at his brother William's observations. He now stroked his forehead, and looking mildly but seriously at the boy addressed him thus. " My son, many things appear strange or silly in themselves if they are presented to us simply, without any notice when and where they were done, and upon what occa- sion. If any strangers, for example, had seen thee washing thy hands in an empty basin, without knowing the philosophy of the matter, they would have taken thee for an innocent, and thy master and me for little better ; or they might have supposed some conjuring was going on. The things which the old Philosophers said and did, would appear, I dare say, as wise to us as they did to the people of their own times, if we knew why and in what circumstances they were done and said. " Daniel, there are two sorts of men in all ranks and ways of life, the wise and the foolish ; and there are a great many degrees between them. That some foolish people have called themselves Philosophers, and some wicked ones, and some who were out of their wits, is just as certain as that per- sons of all these descriptions are to be found among all conditions of men. " Philosophy, Daniel, is of two kinds : that which relates to conduct, and that which re- lates to knowledge. The first teaches us to value all things at their real worth, to be contented with little, modest in prosperity, patient in trouble, equal-minded at all times. It teaches us our duty to our neigh- bour and ourselves. It is that wisdom of which King Solomon speaks in our rhyme- book. Reach me the volume ! " Then turn- ing to the passage in his favourite Du Bartas he read these lines : " She's God's own mirror ; she's a light whose glance Springs from the lightening of his countenance. She's mildest heaven's most sacred influence ; Never decays her beauties' excellence, Aye like herself; and she doth always trace Not only the same path but the same pace. Without her honour, health and wealth would prove Three poisons to me. Wisdom from above Is the only moderatrix, spring and guide, Organ and honour of all gifts beside." " But let us look in the Bible : aye, this is the place. "For in her is an understanding spirit, holy, one only, manifold, subtil, lively, clear, undefiled, plain, not subject to hurt, loving the thing that is good, quick, which cannot be letted, ready to do good ; " Kind to man, steadfast, sure, free from THE DOCTOR. L care, having all power, overseeing all things, and going through all understanding, pure, and most subtil, spirits. " For wisdom is more moving than any motion : she passeth and goeth through all things by reason of her pureness. " For she is the breath of the power of God, and a pure influence, flowing from the glory of the Almighty; therefore can no de- nied thing fall into her. " For she is the brightness of the ever- lasting light, the unspotted mirror of the power of God, and the image of his goodness. "And being but one she can do all things ; and remaining in herself she maketh all things new : and in all ages entering into holy souls she maketh them friends of God, and prophets. "For God loveth none but him that dwelleth with wisdom. " For she is more beautiful than the Sun, and above all the order of Stars : being com- pared with the light she is found before it. " For after this cometh night : but vice shall not prevail against wisdom." He read this with a solemnity that gave weight to every word. Then closing the book, after a short pause, he proceeded in a lower tone. " The Philosophers of whom you have read in the Dictionary possessed this wisdom only in part, because they were heathens, and therefore could see no farther than the light of mere reason sufficed to show the way. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and they had not that to begin with. So the thoughts which ought to have made them humble produce pride, and so far their wisdom proved but folly. The humblest Christian who learns his duty, and performs it as well as he can, is wiser than they. He does nothing to be seen of men ; and that was their motive for most of their actions. " Now for the philosophy which relates to knowledge. Knowledge is a brave thing. I am a plain, ignorant, untaught man, and know my ignorance. But it is a brave thing when we look around us in this wonderful world to understand something of what we see : to know something of the earth on which we move, the air which we breathe, and the elements whereof we are made : to comprehend the motions of the moon and stars, and measure the distances between them, and compute times and seasons : to observe the laws which sustain the universe by keeping all things in their courses : to search into the mysteries of nature, and dis- cover the hidden virtue of plants and stones, and read the signs and tokens which are shown us, and make out the meaning of hidden things, and apply all this to the benefit of our fellow-creatures. " Wisdom and knowledge, Daniel, make the difference between man and man, and that between man and beast is hardly greater. " These things do not always go together. There may be wisdom without knowledge, and there maybe knowledge without wisdom. A man without knowledge, if he walk humbly with his God, and live in charity with his neighbours, may be wise unto salvation. A man without wisdom may not find his know- ledge avail him quite so well. But it is he who possesses both that is the true Philoso- pher. The more he knows, the more he is desirous of knowing ; and yet the farther he advances in knowledge the better he under- stands how little he can attain, and the more deeply he feels that God alone can satisfy the infinite desires of an immortal soul. To understand this is the height and perfection of philosophy." Then opening the Bible which lay before him, he read these verses from the Proverbs. " My son, if thou wilt receive my words, " So that thou incline thine ear unto wis- dom and apply thine heart to understanding ; " Yea, if thou criest after knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding ; " If thou seekest after her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures ; " Then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. "For the Lordgiveth wisdom; out of His mouth cometh knowledge and understanding. " He layeth up sound wisdom for the righteous ; He is a buckler to them that walk uprightly. THE DOCTOR. "He keepeth the paths of judgement and preserveth the way of his Saints. " Then shalt thou understand righteous- ness and judgement and equity ; yea, every good path. " When wisdom entereth into thine heart, and knowledge is pleasant unto thy soul ; " Discretion shall preserve thee, under- standing shall keep thee, " To deliver thee from the way of the evil." * " Daniel, my son," after a pause he pur- sued, " thou art a diligent good lad. God hath given thee a tender and a dutiful heart ; keep it so, and it will be a wise one, for thou hast the beginning of wisdom. I wish thee to pursue knowledge, because in pursuing it happiness will be found by the way. If I have said any thing now which is above thy years, it will come to mind in after time, when I am gone perhaps, but when thou mayest profit by it. God bless thee, my child ! " He stretched out his right hand at these words, and laid it gently upon the boy's head. What he said was not forgotten, and throughout life the son never thought of that blessing without feeling that it had taken effect. CHAPTER XXIII. P. I. ROWLAND DIXON AND HIS COMPANY OP PUPPETS. ve tan eficaz el llanlo, lasjabulas y historias retratadas, que parece verdad, y es dulce encanto. Ypara el vulgo rudo, que ignorante aborrece el manjar cosloso, guisa el plato del gracioso eztravagante ; Con que les htirlas de contcnto y lisa, gustando de mirar sayal grossero, mas que sutil y Candida camisa. JOSEPH ORTIZ DE VII.LENA. WERE it not for that happy facility with which the mind in such cases commonly satisfies itself, my readers would find it not * I am not sure whether man Is left out advisedly, but I suspect it is. more easy to place themselves in imngination at Ingleton a hundred years ago, than at Thebes or Athens, so strange must it appear to them, that a family should have existed, in humble but easy circumstances, among whose articles of consumption neither tea nor sugar had a place, who never raised potatoes in their garden, nor saw them at their table, and who never wore a cotton garment of any kind. Equally unlike any thing to which my contemporaries have been accustomed, must it be for them to hear of an Englishman whose talk was of philosophy, moral or spe- culative, not of politics ; who read books in folio and had never seen a newspaper ; nor ever heard of a magazine, review, or literary journal of any kind. Not less strange must it seem to them who, if they please, may travel by steam at the rate of thirty miles an hour upon the Liverpool and Manchester railway, or at ten miles an hour by stage upon any of the more frequented roads, to consider the little intercourse which, in those days, was carried on between one part of the kingdom and another. During young Daniel's boyhood, and for many years after he had reached the age of manhood, the whole carriage of the northern counties, and indeed of all the remoter parts, was per- formed by pack-horses, the very name of which would long since have been as obso- lete as their use, if it had not been preserved by the sign or appellation of some of those inns at which they were accustomed to put up. Rarely, indeed, were the roads about Ingleton marked by any other wheels than those of its indigenous carts. That little town, however, obtained con- siderable celebrity in those days, as being the home and head quarters of Rowland Dixon, the Gesticulator Maximus, or Pup- pet-show-master-general, of the North; a person not less eminent in his line than Powel, whom the Spectator has immorta- lised. My readers must not form their notion of Rowland Dixon's company from the am- bulatory puppet-shows which of late years have added new sights and sounds to the THE DOCTOR. 53 spectacles and cries of London. Far be it from me to depreciate those peripatetic street exhibitions, which you may have be- fore your window at a call, and by which the hearts of so many children are con- tinually delighted : Nay, I confess that few things in that great city carry so much comfort to the cockles of my own, as the well-known voice of Punch ; the same which in my school-boy days 1 listened to, as Wordsworth says of the Cuckoo, And I can listen to it yet And listen till I do beget That golden time again. It is a voice that seems to be as much in accord with the noise of towns, and the riotry of fairs, as the note of the Cuckoo, with the joyousness of spring fields and the fresh verdure of the vernal woods. But Rowland Dixon's company of puppets would be pitifully disparaged, if their size, uses, or importance, were to be estimated by the street performances of the present day. The Dramatis Personae of these modern exhibitions never, I believe, comprehends more than four characters, and these four are generally the same, to wit, Punch, Judy, as she who used to be called Joan is now denominated, the Devil and the Doctor, or sometimes the Constable in the Doctor's stead. There is, therefore, as little variety in the action as in the personages ; and their dimensions are such, that the whole company and the theatre in which they are exhibited are carried along the streets at quick time and with a light step by the two 1 ersons who manage the concern. But the Rowlandian, Dixonian, or Ingle- touian puppets were large as life ; and re- quired for their removal a caravan (in the use to which that word is now ap- propriated), a vehicle of such magnitude and questionable shape, that if Don Quixote had encountered its like upon the highway, he would have regarded it as the most for- midable adventure which had ever been presented to his valour. And they went as far beyond our street-puppets in the sphere of their subjects as they exceeded them in size ; for in that sphere quicquid agunt homines was included, and a greal deal more. In no country, and in no stage of society, has the drama ever existed in a ruder state than that in which this company presented it. The Drolls of Bartholomew Fair were hardly so far below the legitimate drama, as they were above that of Rowland Dixon ; for the Drolls were written compositions : much ribaldry might be, and no doubt was, interpolated as opportunity allowed or in- vited ; but the main dialogue was prepared. Here, on the contrary, there was no other preparation than that of frequent practice. The stock pieces were founded upon popular stories or ballads, such as Fair Rosamond, Jane Shore, and Bateinan, who hanged him- self for love ; with scriptural' subjects for Easter and Whitsun-week, such as the Cre- ation, the Deluge, Susannah and the Elders, and Nebuchadnezzar or the Fall, of Pride. These had been handed down from the time of the old mysteries and miracle-plays, hav- ing, in the progress of time and change, descended from the monks and clergy to become the property of such managers as Powel and Rowland Dixon. In what man- ner they were represented when thus Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from their high estate, may be imagined from a play- bill of Queen Anne's reign, in which one of them is thus advertised : " At Crawley's Booth, over against the Crown Tavern in Smithfield, during the time of Bartholomew Fair, will be presented a little Opera, called the Old Creation of the World, yet newly revived ; with the addi- tion of Noah's flood. Also several fountains playing water during the time of the play. The last scene does present Noah and his family coming out of the Ark, with all the beasts two and two, and all the fowls of the air seen in a prospect sitting upon trees. Likewise over the Ark is seen the Sun rising in a most glorious manner. More- over, a multitude of Angels will be seen in 54 THE DOCTOR. a double rank, which presents a double prospect, one for the Sun, the other for a palace, where will be seen six Angels, ring- ing of bells. Likewise machines descend from above double and treble, with Dives rising out of Hell, and Lazarus seen in Abraham's bosom ; besides several figures dancing jigs, sarabands and country dances, to the admiration of the spectators ; with the merry conceits of Squire Punch, and Sir John Spendall." I have not found it any where stated at what time these irreverent representations were discontinued in England, nor whether (which is not unlikely) they were put an end to by the interference of the magis- trates. The Autos Sacramentales, which form the most characteristic department of the Spanish drama, were prohibited at Madrid in 1763, at the instance of the Conde de Teba, then Archbishop of Toledo, chiefly because of the profaneness of the actors, and the indecency of the places in which they were represented : it seems, therefore, that if they had been performed by clerks, and within consecrated precincts, he would not have objected to them. The religious dra- mas, though they are not less extraordinary and far more reprehensible, because in many instances nothing can be more pernicious than their direct tendency, were not in- cluded in the same prohibition ; the same marks of external reverence not being re- quired for Saints and Images as for the great object of Romish Idolatry. These, probably, will long continue to delight the Spanish people. But facts of the same kind may be met with nearer home. So recently as the year 1816, the Sacrifice of Isaac was represented on the stage at Paris : Samson was the subject of the ballet ; the unshorn son of Manoah delighted the spectators by dancing a solo with the gates of Gaza on his back; Dalilah clipt him during the intervals of a jig ; and the Philistines surrounded and captured him in a country dance ! That Punch made his appearance in the puppet-show of the Deluge, most persons know ; his exclamation of " hazy weather, master Noah," having been preserved by tradition. In all of these wooden dramas, whether sacred or profane, Punch indeed bore a part, and that part is well described in the verses entitled Pupa gestiadantes, which may be found among the Selecta Poemata Anglorum Latina, edited by Mr. Popharn. Ecce tamen subito, et media discrimine rerum, liidicului vultu procedit Homuncio, tergum Cut rigel in gibbum, immensusque protruditur alvus ; PONCHIUS huicnomen, nee erat petulantiur unquam Ullus ; quinctiam media inter seria semper Importunus adest, leptdusque etgarrulus usque Perstat, permiscetquejucos, atque omnia turbat. Sxpe puellarum densa ad subsellia sese Convertens, sedet en ! pulchras mea, dizil, arnica lllic inter eat ! Oculo simul improbus uno Cunnivens, aliquam illarum quasi noverat, ipsam Quteque pudens se signari pudefacta rubescit ; Talaque subridetjuvcnumque virumque corona. Cum vero ambiguis ubscccnas turpia dictis Innuit, effuso testantur gaudia risu. In one particular only this description is unlike the Punch of the Ingleton Company. He was not an homuncio, but a full-grown personage, who had succeeded with little alteration either of attributes or appearance to the Vice of the old Mysteries, and served like the Clown of our own early stage, and the Gracioso of the Spaniards, to scatter mirth over the serious part of the perform- ance, or turn it into ridicule. The wife was an appendage of later times, when it was not thought good for Punch to be alone ; and when, as these performances had fallen into lower hands, the quarrels between such a pair afforded a standing subject equally adapted to the capacity of the interlocutor and of his audience. A tragic part was assigned to Punch in one of Rowland Dixon's pieces, and that one of the most popular, being the celebrated tragedy of Jane Shore. The Beadle in this piece, after proclaiming in obvious and opprobrious rhyme the offence which had drawn upon Mistress Shore this public punishment, prohibited all persons from relieving her on pain of death, and turned her out, according to the common story, to die of hunger in the streets. The only person who ventured to disobey this pro- hibition was Punch the Baker ; and the reader may judge of the dialogue of these THE DOCTOR. pieces by this Baker's words, when he stole behind her, and nudging her furtively, while he spake, offered her a loaf, saying, " Tuk it Jenny, tak it!" for which act so little con- sonant with his general character, Punch died a martyr to humanity by the hang- man's hands. Dr. Dove used to say he doubted whether Garrick and Mrs. Gibber could have affected him more in middle life, than he had been moved by Punch the Baker and this wooden Jane Shore in his boyhood. For rude as were these performances (and nothing could possibly be ruder), the effect on infant minds was prodigious, from the ac- companying sense of wonder, an emotion which of all others is, at that time of life, the most delightful. Here was miracle in any quantity to be seen for two-pence, and be believed in for nothing. Xo matter how confined the theatre, how coarse and in- artificial the scenery, or how miserable the properties ; the mind supplied all that was wanting. ' Mr. Guy," said young Daniel to the schoolmaster, after one of these perform- ances, " I wish Rowland Dixon could per- form one of our Latin dialogues ! " " Ay, Daniel," replied the schoolmaster, entering into the boy's feelings ; " it would be a grand thing to have the Three Fatal Sisters introduced, and to have them send for Death ; and then for Death to summon the Pope and jugulate him; and invite the Emperor and the King to dance ; and dis- arm the soldier, and pass sentence upon the Judge ; and stop the Lawyer's tongue ; and feel the Physician's pulse ; and make the Cook come to be killed ; and send the Poet to the shades ; and give the Drunkard his last draught. And then to have Rhada- manthus come in and try them all ! Me- thinks, Daniel, that would beat Jane Shore and Fair Rosamond all to nothing, and would be as good as a sermon to boot." " I believe it would, indeed ! " said the Boy ; " and then to see MORS and NATURA ; and have DAMNATUS called up ; and the Three Cacoda;mons at supper upon the sirloin of a King, and the roasted Doctor of Divinity, and the cruel Schoolmaster's rump ! Would not it be nice, Mr. Guy ? " " The pity is, Daniel," replied Guy, " that Rowland Dixon is no Latiner, any more than those who go to see his performances." " But could not you put it into English for him, Mr. Guy ?" " I am afraid, Daniel, Rowland Dixon would not thank me for my pains. Besides, I could never make it sound half so noble in English as in those grand Latin verses, which fill the mouth, and the ears, and the mind, ay and the heart and soul too. No, boy ! schools are the proper places for representing such pieces, and if I had but Latiners enough we would have them our- selves. But there are not many houses, my good Daniel, in which learning is held in such esteem as it is at thy father's ; if there were, I should have more Latin scho- lars ; and what is of far more consequence, the world would be wiser and better than it is?" CHAPTER XXIV. P. I. QUACK AND NO QUACK, BEING AN ACCOUNT OF DOCTOR GREEN AND HIS MAN KEMP. POPULAR MEDICINE, HERBART, THEORY OF SIGNATURES, WILLIAM DOVE, JOHN WESLEY, AND BAXTER. Hold thy hand ! health's dear mniutainer ; Life perchance may burn the stronger : Having substance to maintain her She untouch'd may last the longer. When the Artist goes about To redress her flame, I doubt Oftentimes he snuffs it out. QUARLES. IT was not often that Rowland Dixon ex- hibited at Ingleton. He took his regular circuits to the fairs in all the surrounding country far and wide ; but in the intervals of his vocation, he, who when abroad was the servant of the public, became his own master at home. His puppets were laid up in ordi- nary, the voice of Punch ceased, and the master of the motions enjoyed otium cum dignitate. When he favoured his friends and neighbours with an exhibition, it was THE DOCTOR. speciali gratia, and in a way that rather en- hanced that dignity than derogated from it. A performer of a very different kind used in those days to visit Ingleton in Us rounds, where his arrival was always expected by some of the community with great anxiety. This was a certain Dr. Green, who having been regularly educated for the profession of medicine, and regularly graduated in it, chose to practise as an itinerant, and take the field with a Merry Andrew for his aide- de-camp. He was of a respectable and wealthy family in the neighbourhood of Doncaster, which neighbourhood on their account he never approached in his pro- fessional circuits, though for himself he was far from being ashamed of the character that he had assumed. The course which he had taken had been deliberately chosen, with the twofold object of gratifying his own hu- mour, and making a fortune ; and in the remoter as well as in the immediate purpose, he succeeded to his heart's content. It is not often that so much worldly pru- dence is found connected with so much ec- centricity of character. A French poetess, Madame de Villedieu, taking as a text for some verses the liberal maxim que la vertu depend autant du temperament que des loix, says, Presque toujours chacun suit son caprice; Heuriux est le mortel que les deslins amis Out parlagt d'un caprice pennis. He is indeed a fortunate man who, if he must have a hobby-horse, which is the same as saying if he will have one, keeps it not merely for pleasure, but for use, breaks it in well, has it entirely under command, and gets as much work out of it as he could have done out of a common roadster. Dr. Green did this ; he had not taken to this strange course because he was impatient of the restraints of society, but because he fancied that his constitution both of body and of mind re- quired an erratic life ; and that, within cer- tain bounds which he prescribed for himself, he might indulge in it, both to his own advantage, and that of the community, that part of the community at least among whom it would be his lot to labour. Our laws had provided itinerant Courts of Justice for the people. Our church had formerly provided itinerant preachers ; and after the Reformation, when the Mendicant Orders were abolished by whom this service used to be performed, such preachers have never failed to appear during the prevalence of any religious influenza. Dr. Green thought that itinerant physicians were wanted ; and that if practitioners regularly educated and well qualified would condescend to such a course, the poor ignorant people would no longer be cheated by travelling quacks, and sometimes poisoned by them ! One of the most reprehensible arts to which the Reformers resorted in their hatred of popery, was that of adapting vulgar verses to church tunes, and thus associating with ludicrous images, or with something worse, melodies which had formerly been held sacred. It is related of Whitefield that he, making a better use of the same device, fitted hymns to certain popular airs, because, he said, " there was no reason why the Devil should keep all the good tunes to himself." Green acted upon a similar principle when he took the field as a Physician Errant, with his man Kemp, like another Sancho for his Squire. But the Doctor was no Quixote ; and his Merry Andrew had all Sancho's shrewdness, without any alloy of his simple- ness. In those times medical knowledge among the lower practitioners was at the lowest point. Except in large towns the people usually trusted to domestic medicine, which some Lady Bountiful administered from her family receipt book ; or to a Village Doc- tress whose prescriptions were as likely sometimes to be dangerously active, as at others to be ridiculous and inert. But while they held to their garden physic it was seldom that any injury was done either by exhibiting wrong medicines or violent ones. Herbs, Woods and Springs, the power that in you lies If mortal man could know your properties I * * FLETCHER. THE DOCTOR. There was at one time abundant faith in those properties. The holy Shepherdess in Fletcher's fine pastoral drama, which so in- finitely surpasses all foreign compositions of that class, thus apostrophises the herbs which she goes out to cull : you best sons of earth, You only brood unto whose happy birth Virtue was given, holding more of Nature Than man, her first-born and most perfect creature, Let me adore you, you that only can Help or kill Nature, drawing out that span Of life and breath even to the end of time ! So abundantly was the English garden stocked in the age of the Tudors, that Tusser, after enumerating in an Appendix to one of his Chapters two and forty herbs for the kitchen, fourteen others for sallads or sauces, eleven to boil or butter, seventeen as strew- ing herbs, and forty " herbs, branches, and flowers for windows and pots," adds a list of seventeen herbs " to still in summer," and of five and twenty " necessary herbs to grow in the garden for physic, not rehearsed before ; " and after all advises his readers to seek more in the fields. He says, The nature of Flowers dame Physic doth shew ; She teacheth them all to be known to a few. Elsewhere he observes that The knowledge of stilling is one pretty feat, The waters be wholesome, the charges not great. In a comedy of Lord Digby's, written more than a hundred years after Tusser's didactics, one of the scenes is laid in a lady's laboratory, " with a fountain in it, some stills, and many shelves, with pots of porcelain and glasses ; " and when the lady wishes to keep her attendant out of the way, she sends her there, saying 1 have a task to give you, carefully To shift the oils in the perfuming room, As in the several ranges you shall see The old begin to wither. To do it well Will take you up some hours, but 'tis a work I oft perform myself. And Tusser among " the Points of House- wifery united to the Comfort of Husbandry," includes good housewifely physic, as incul- cated in these rhymes ; Good houswife provides ere an sickness do come, Of sundry good things in her house to have some; Good aqua composita, and vinegar tart, Rose water, and treacle to comfort the heart ; Cold herbs in her garden for agues that burn, That over-strong heat to good temper may turn ; White endive, and succory, with spinage enow, All such with good pot-herbs should follow the plough. Get water of fumitory liver to cool, And others the like, or else go like a fool ; Conserves of barberry, quinces and such, With syrups that easeth the sickly so much. Old Gervase Markham in his " Approved Book called the English Housewife, con- taining the inward and outward virtues which ought to be in a complete woman," places her skill in physic as one of the most principal ; " you shall understand," he says, " that sith the preservation and care of the family touching their health and soundness of body consisteth most in her diligence, it is meet that she have a physical kind of knowledge, how to administer any whole- some receipts or medicines for the good of their healths, as well to prevent the first occasion of sickness, as to take away the effects and evil of the same, when it hath made seizure upon the body." And " as it must be confessed that the depths and secrets of this most excellent art of physic, are far beyond the capacity of the most skilful woman," he relates for the Housewife's use some "approved medecines and old doctrines, gathered together by two excellent and famous physicians, and in a manuscript given to a great worthy Countess of this land." The receipts collected in this and other books for domestic practice are some of them so hyper-composite that even Tusser's gar- den could hardly supply all the indigenous ingredients ; others are of the most fantastic kind, and for the most part they were as troublesome in preparation, and many of them as disgusting, as they were futile. That " Sovereign Water " which was in- vented by Dr. Stephens, was composed of almost all known spices, and all savoury and odorous herbs, distilled in claret. With this Dr. Stephens " preserved his own life until such extreme old age that he could neither go nor ride ; and he did continue his life, being bed-rid five years, when other THE DOCTOR. physicians did judge he could not live one year ; and he confessed a little before his death, that if he were sick at any time, he never used any thing but this water only. And also the Archbishop of Canterbury used it, and found such goodness in it that he lived till he was not able to drink out of a cup, but sucked his drink through a hollow pipe of silver." Twenty-nine plants were used in the com- position of Dr. Adrian Gilbert's most sove- reign Cordial Water, besides hartshorn, figs, raisins, gillyflowers, cowslips, niarygolds, blue violets, red rose-buds, ambergris, be- zoar stone, sugar, aniseed, liquorice, and to crown all, " what else you please." But then it was sovereign against all fevers ; and one who in time of plague should take two spoonsful of it in good beer, or white wine, " he might walk safely from danger, by the leave of God." The Water of Life was distilled from nearly as many ingredients, to which were added a fleshy running capon, the loins and legs of an old coney, the red flesh of the sinews of a leg of mutton, four young chickens, twelve larks, the yolks of twelve eggs, and a loaf of white bread, all to be distilled in white wine. For consumption, there were pills in which powder of pearls, of white amber and of coral, were the potential ingredients ; there was cockwater, the cock being to be chased and beaten before he was killed, or else plucked alive ! and there was a special water procured by distillation, from a peck of garden shell-snails and a quart of earth worms, besides other things ; this was pre- scribed not for consumption alone, but for dropsy and all obstructions. For all faint- ness, hot agues, heavy fantasies and imagi- nations, a cordial was prepared in tabulates, which were called Manus Christi : the true receipt required one ounce of prepared pearls to twelve of fine sugar, boiled with rose water, violet water, cinnamon water, " or howsoever one would have them." But apothecaries seldom used more than a drachm of pearls to a pound of sugar, because men would not go to the cost thereof; and the Manus Christi simplex was made without any pearl at all. For broken bones, bones out of joint, or any grief in the bones or sinews, oil of swallows * was pronounced exceeding sovereign, and this was to be procured by pounding twenty live swallows in a mortar with about as many different herbs ! A mole, male or female according to the sex of the patient, was to be dried in an oven whole as taken out of the earth, and administered in powder for the falling evil. A grey eel with a white belly was to be closed in an earthen pot, and buried alive in a dunghill, and at the end of a fortnight its oil might be collected to " help hearing." A mixture of rose leaves and pigeon's dung quilted in a bag, and laid hot upon the parts aflected, was thought to help a stitch in the side ; and for a quinsey, " give the party to drink," says Markham, " the herb mouse-ear, steept in ale or beer ; and look when you see a swine rub himself, and there upon the same place rub a slick-stone, and then with it slick all the swelling, and it will cure it." To make hair grow on a bald part of the head, garden snails were to be plucked out of their houses, and pounded with horse- leaches, bees, wasps and salt, an equal quan- tity of each ; and the baldness was to be anointed with the moisture from this mix- ture after it had been buried eight days in a hotbed. For the removal and extirpation of superfluous hairs, a depilatory was to be made by drowning in a pint of wine as many green frogs as it would cover (about twenty was the number), setting the pot forty days in the sun, and then straining it for use. A water specially good against gravel or dropsy might be distilled from the dried and pulverised blood of a black buck or he-goat, three or four years old. The animal was to be kept by himself, in the summer time when the sun was in Leo, and dieted for three weeks upon certain herbs given in pre- scribed order, and to drink nothing but red wine, if you would have the best prepara- tion, though some persons allowed him his * I have known it used in the present century. The OLD DOCTOR who used it, Blacksmith, Farrier, Phle- botomist, and Tooth-drawer combined, is now con- signed to his resting place, atat. 81 . THE DOCTOR. 59 fill of water every third day. But there was a water of man's blood which in Queen Elizabeth's days was a new invention, " whereof some princes had very great estimation, and used it for to remain thereby in their force, and, as they thought, to live long." A strong man was to be chosen, in his flourishing youth, and of twenty-five years, and somewhat choleric by nature. He was to be well dieted for one month with light and healthy meats, and with all kinds of spices, and with good strong wine, and moreover to be kept with mirth ; at the month's end veins in both arms were to be opened, and as much blood to be let out as he could " tolerate and abide." One hand- ful of salt was to be added to six pounds of this blood, and this was to be seven times distilled, pouring the water upon the resi- duum after every distillation, till the last. This was to be taken three or four times a year, an ounce at a time. One has sight of a theory here ; the life was thought to be in the blood, and to be made transferable when thus extracted. Richard Brathwait, more famous since Mr. Haslewood has identified him with Drunken Barnaby, than as author of " the English Gentleman and the English Gentle- woman, presented to present times for orna- ments, and commended to posterity for precedents," says of this Gentlewoman, " herbals she peruseth, which she seconds with conference ; and by degrees so improves her knowledge, as her cautelous care perfits many a dangerous cure." But herbals were not better guides than the medical books of which specimens have just been set before the reader, except that they did not lead the practitioner so widely and perilously astray. " Had Solomon," says the author of Adam in Eden, or the Paradise of Plants, " that great proficient in all sublunary experi- ments, preserved those many volumes that he wrote in this kind, for the instruction of future ages, so great was that spaciousness of mind that God had bestowed on him, that he had immediately under the Deity been the greatest of Doctors for the preservation of mankind : but with the los.s of his books so much lamented by the Rabbins and others, the best part of this herbarary art hath since groaned under the defects of many unworthy authors, and still remains under divers clouds and imperfections." This writer, " the ingeniously learned and excellent Herbarist Mr. William Coles," professing as near as possible to acquaint all sorts of people with the very pith and marrow of herbarism, arranges his work according to the anatomical application of plants, " appropriating," says he, " to every part of the body, (from the crown of the head, with which I begin, and proceed till I come to the sole of the foot,) such herbs and plants whose grand uses and virtues do most speci- fically, and by signature thereunto belong, not only for strengthening the same, but also for curing the evil effects whereunto they are subjected :" the signatures being, as it were, the books out of which the an- cients first learned the virtues of herbs ; Nature, or rather the God of Nature, having stamped on divers of them legible characters to discover their uses, though he hath left others without any, " that after he had showed them the way, they, by their labour and industry, which renders every thing more acceptable, might find out the rest." It was an opinion often expressed by a physician of great and deserved celebrity, that in course of time specifics would be discovered for every malady to which the human frame is liable. He never supposed, (though few men have ever been more sanguine in their hopes and expectations,) that life was thus to be indefinitely prolonged, and that it would be man's own fault, or his own choice, if he did not live for ever ; but he thought that when we should thus have been taught to subdue those diseases which cut our life short, we should, like the Patriarchs, live out the number of our days, and then fall asleep, Man being by this physical re- demption restored to his original corporeal state. Then shall like four straight pillars, the four Elements Support the goodly structure of Mortality : Then shall the four Complexions, like four beads Of a clear river, streaming in his body, 60 THE DOCTOR. Nourish and comfort every vein and sinew : No sickness of contagion, no grim death, Or deprivation of health's real blessings, Shall then affright the creature, built by Heaven, Reserved for immortality.* He had not taken up this notion from any religious feeling ; it was connected in him with the pride of philosophy, and he ex- pected that this was one of the blessings which we were to obtain in the progress of knowledge. Some specific remedies being known to exist, it is indeed reasonable to suppose that others will be found. Old theorists went farther ; and in a world which everywhere bears such undeniable evidences of design in every thing, few theories should seem more likely to be favourably received than the one which supposed that every healing plant bears, in some part of its structure, the type or signature of its peculiar virtues : now this could in no other way be so obvi- ously marked, as by a resemblance to that part of the human frame for which its reme- dial uses were intended. There is a fable, in- deed, which says that he who may be so fortunate as to taste the blood of a certain unknown animal, would be enabled thereby to hear the voice of plants and understand their speech ; and if he were on a mountain at sunrise, he might hear the herbs which grow there, when freshened with the dews of night they open themselves to the beams of the morning, return thanks to the Creator for the virtues with which he has indued them, each specifying what those virtues were, le quali veramente son tante e tali che beati i pastori che quelle capessero. A bota- nical writer who flourished a little before the theory of signatures was started complains that herbal medicine had fallen into disuse ; he says, antequam chemia patrum nostroruin inemorid orbi restitueretur, contenti civebant oi TWV larpdiv Ko/i^ol Kal \apiiararoi phar- macis ex vegetabilium regno accersitis parum soUiciti de Soils sulphure et oleo, de LUTUB sale et essentid, de Saturni saccaro, de Martis tinctura et croco, de vitriolo Veneris, de Mer- curio preecipitato, et Antimonii floribus, de FORD. Sulphuris spiritu et Tartari crystallis : nihilo- minus mascule debellabant morbos, et tute et jucunde. Nunc sccculi nostri infelicitas est, quod vegetabilibus contempthn habitis, plerique uihil aliud spirant prater metallica ista, et extis parata horribilia secreta.* The new theory came in timely aid of the Galenists ; it connected their practice with a doctrine hardly less mysterious than those of the Paracelsists, but more plausible because it seemed immediately intelligible, and had a natural religious feeling to strengthen and support it. The Author of Adam in Eden refers to Oswald Crollius, as " the great discoverer of signatures," and no doubt has drawn from him most of his remarks upon this theory of physical correspondence. The resemblance is in some cases very obvious ; but in many more the Swedenborgian corre- spondences are not more fantastic ; and where the resemblances exist the inference is purely theoretical. Walnuts are said to have the perfect sig- nature of the head ; the outer husks or green covering represents the pericranium, or outward skin of the skull, whereon the hair groweth, and therefore salt made of those husks is exceeding good for wounds in the head. The inner woody shell hath the signature of the skull, and the little yellow skin or peel, that of the dura and pia mater which are the thin scarfs that envelope the brain. The kernel hath " the very figure of the brain, and therefore it is very profit- able for the brain and resists poisons." So too the Piony, being not yet blown, was thought to have " some signature and pro- portion with the head of man, having su- tures and little veins dispersed up and down, like unto those which environ the brain : when the flowers blow they open an outward little skin representing the skull :" the piony, therefore, besides its other vir- tues was very available against the falling sickness. Poppy heads with their crowns somewhat represent the head and brain, and * PETRI LAUREMBERGII Rosloc/u'eruis Horttcttltura.. Praeloquium, p. 10. THE DOCTOR. 61 therefore decoctions of them were used with good success in several diseases of the head. And Lilies of the Valley, which in Coles's days grew plentifully upon Hampstead- heuth, were known by signature to cure the apoplexy ; " for as that disease is caused by the dropping of humours into the principal ventricles of the brain, so the flowers of this lilly hanging on the plants as if they were drops, are of wonderful use herein." All capillary herbs were of course sove- reign in diseases of the hair ; and because the purple and yellow spots and stripes upon the flowers of Eyebright very much resemble the appearance of diseased eyes, it was found out by that signature that this herb was very effectual " for curing of the same." The small Stone-crop hath the sig- nature of the gums, and is therefore good for scurvy. The exquisite Crollius observed that the woody scales of which the cones of the pine tree are composed resemble the fore teeth ; and therefore pine leaves boiled in vinegar make a gargle which relieves the tooth-ache. The Pomegranate has a like virtue for a like reason. Thistles and Holly leaves signify by their prickles that they are excellent for pleurisy and stiches in the side. Saxifrage rnanifesteth in its growth its power of breaking the stone. It had been found experimentally that all roots, barks and flowers which were yellow, cured the yellow jaundice ; and though Kidney beans as yet were only used for food, yet having so perfect a signature, practitioners in physic were exhorted to take it into con- sideration, and try whether there were not in this plant some excellent faculty to cure nephritic diseases. In pursuing this fan- tastic system, examples might be shown of that mischief, which, though it may long remain latent, never fails at some time or other to manifest itself as inherent in all error and falsehood. When the mistresses of families grounded their practice of physic upon such systems of herbary, or took it from books which contained prescriptions like those before adduced, (few being either more simple or more rational,) Dr. Green might well argue that when he mounted his hobby and rode out seeking adventures as a Physician Errant, he went forth for the benefit of his fellow-creatures. The guidance of such works, or of their own traditional receipts, the people in fact then generally followed. Burton tells us that Paulus Jovius in his description of Britain, and Levinus Lem- nius have observed, of this our island, how there was of old no use of physic amongst us, and but little at this day, except, he says, " it be for a few nice idle citizens, sur- feiting courtiers, and stall-fed gentlemen lubbers. The country people use kitchen physic." There are two instances among the papers of the Berkeley family, of the little confidence which persons of rank placed upon such medical advice and medi- cinal preparations as could be obtained in the country, and even in the largest of our provincial cities. In the second year of Elizabeth's reign, Henry Lord Berkeley " having extremely heated himself by chas- ing on foot a tame deer in Yate Park, with the violence thereof fell into an immoderate bleeding of the nose, to stay which, by the ill counsel of some about him, he dipt his whole face into a basin of cold water, whereby," says the family chronicler, " that flush and fulness of his nose which forthwith arose could never be remedied, though for present help he had physicians in a few days from London, and for better help came thither himself not long after to have the advice of the whole College, and lodged with his mother at her house in Shoe-lane." He never afterwards could sing with truth or satisfaction the old song, Nose, Nose, jolly red Nose, And what gave thee that jolly red Nose ? Cinnamon and Ginger, Nutmegs and Cloves, And they gave me this jolly red Nose. A few years later, " Langham, an Irish footman of this Lord, upon the sickness of the Lady Catherine, this Lord's wife, carried a letter from Callowdon to old Dr. Fryer, a physician dwelling in Little Britain in London ; and returned with a glass bottle in his hand, compounded by the doctor for the recovery of her health, a journey of an 62 THE DOCTOR. hundred and forty-eight miles performed by him in less than forty-two hours, notwith- standing his stay of one night at the physi- cian's and apothecary's houses, which no one horse could have so well and safely per- formed." No doubt it was for the safer conveyance of the bottle, that a footman was sent on this special errand,, for which the historian of that noble family adds, " the lady shall after give him a new suit of cloaths." In those days, and long after, they who required remedies were likely to fare ill, iinder their own treatment, or that of their neighbours ; and worse under the travelling quack, who was always an ignorant and im- pudent impostor, but found that human sufferings and human credulity afforded him a never-failing harvest. Dr. Green knew this : he did not say, with the Romish priest, populus vidt decipi, et decipietur! for he had no intention of deceiving them ; but he saw that many were to be won by buffoonery, more by what is called palaver, and almost all by pretensions. Condescending, there- fore, to the common arts of quackery, he employed his man Kemp to tickle the mul- titude with coarse wit ; but he stored him- self with the best drugs that were to be procured, distributed as general remedies such only as could hardly be misapplied and must generally prove serviceable ; and brought to particular cases the sound know- ledge which he had acquired in the school, of Boerhaave, and the skill which he had derived from experience aided by natural sagacity. When it became convenient for him to have a home, he established himself at Penrith, in the County of Cumberland, having married a lady of that place ; but he long continued his favourite course of life and accumulated in it a large fortune. He gained it by one maggot, and reduced it by many : nevertheless, there remained a hand- some inheritance for his children. His son proved as maggoty as the father, ran through a good fortune, and when confined in the King's Bench prison for debt, wrote a book upon the Art of cheap living in London ! The father's local fame, though it has not reached to the third and fourth generation, survived him far into the second^ and for many years after his retirement from prac- tice, and even after his death, every travel- ling mountebank in the northern counties adopted the name of Dr. Green. At the time to which this chapter refers, Dr. Green was in his meridian career, and enjoyed the highest reputation throughout the sphere of his itinerancy. Ingleton lay in his rounds, and whenever he came there he used to send for the schoolmaster to pass the evening with him. He was always glad if he could find an opportunity also of conversing with the elder Daniel, as the Flossofer of those parts. William Dove could have communicated to him more curious things relating to his own art ; but William kept out of the presence of strangers, and had happily no ailments to make him seek the Doctor's advice ; his occasional indispositions were but slight, and he treated them in his own way. That way was some- times merely superstitious, sometimes it was whimsical, and sometimes rough. If his charms failed when he tried them upon himself, it was not for want of faith. When at any time it happened that one of his eyes was blood-shot, he went forthwith in search of some urchin whose mother, either for laziness, or in the belief that it was whole- some to have it in that state, allowed his ragged head to serve as a free warren for certain " small deer." One of these hexa- peds William secured, and " using him as if he loved him," put it into his eye; when according to William's account the insect fed upon what it found, cleared the eye, and disappearing he knew not where or how, never was seen more. His remedy for the cholic was a pebble posset ; white pebbles were preferred, and of these what was deemed a reasonable quantity was taken in some sort of milk porridge. Upon the same theory he some- times swallowed a pebble large enough as he said to clear all before it ; and for that purpose they have been administered of larger calibre than any bolus that ever came THE DOCTOR. from the hands of the most merciless apo- thecary, as large indeed sometimes as a common sized walnut. Does the reader hesitate at believing this of an ignorant man, living in a remote part of the country ? Well might William Dove be excused, for a generation later than his John Wesley pre- scribed, in his Primitive Physic, quicksilver to be taken ounce by ounce, to the amount of one, two, or three pounds, till the desired effect was produced. And a generation earlier, Richard Baxter of happy memory and unhappy digestion, having read in Dr. Gerhard " the admirable effects of the swallowing of a gold bullet upon his father," in a case which Baxter supposed to be like his own, got a gold bullet of between twenty and thirty shillings weight, and swallowed it. " Having taken it," says he, " I knew not how to be delivered of it again. I took clysters and purges for about three weeks, but nothing stirred it ; and a gentleman having done the like, the bullet never came from him till he died, and it was cut out. But at last my neighbours set a day apart to fast and pray for me, and I was freed from my danger in the beginning of that day ! " CHAPTER XXV. P. I. Hiatus valde lacrymabilis. Time flies away fast, The while we never remember How soon our life here Grows old with the year That dies with the next December ! HERRICK. I MUST pass over fourteen years, for were I to pursue the history of our young Daniel's boyhood and adolescence into all the rami- fications which a faithful biography requires, fourteen volumes would not contain it. They would be worth reading, for that costs little ; they would be worth writing, though that costs much. They would deserve the best embellishments that the pencil and the graver could produce. The most poetical of artists would be worthily employed in designing the sentimental and melancholy scenes ; Cruikshank for the grotesque ; Wilkie and Richter for the comic and serio- comic; Turner for the actual scenery; Bewick for the head and tail pieces. They ought to be written ; they ought to be read. They should be written and then they would be read. But time is wanting: Eheu ! fugaces Posihume, Posthume, Labuntur anni ! and time is a commodity of which the value rises as Jong as we live. We must be con- tented with doing not what we wish, but what we can, our possible as the French call it. One of our Poets * (which is it ?) speaks of an everlasting now. If such a condition of existence were offered to us in this world, and it were put to the vote whether we should accept the offer and fix all things immutably as they are, who are they whose voices would be given in the affirmative ? Not those who are in pursuit of fortune, or of fame, or of knowledge, or of enjoy- ment, or of happiness ; though with regard to all of these, as far as any of them are attainable, there is more pleasure in ths pursuit than in the attainment. Not those who are at sea, or travelling in a stage coach. Not the man who is shaving himself. Not those who have the tooth-ache, or who are having a tooth drawn. The fashionable beauty might; and the fashionable singer, and the fashionable opera dancer, and the actor who is in the height of his power and reputation. So might the alderman at a city feast. So would the heir who is squandering a large fortune faster than it was accumulated for him. And the thief who is not taken, and the convict who is not hanged, and the scoffer, at religion whose heart belies his tongue. * Cowlev's Davideis, book i. vol. i. p. 302., and note p. 364. The Latin version is in vol. ii. p. 513. " Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal now does always last." It is needless to add that the term originated with tLe Schoolmen. 64 THE DOCTOR. Not the wise and the good. Not those who are in sickness or in sorrow. Not I. But were I endowed with the power of suspending the effect of time upon the things around me, methinks there are some of my flowers which should neither fall nor fade : decidedly my kitten should never attain to cathood : and I am afraid my little boy would continue to "mis-speak half- uttered words ;" and never, while I live, outgrow that epicene dress of French grey, half European, half Asiatic in its fashion. CHAPTER XXVI. P. I. DANIEL AT DONCASTER; THE REASON WHT HE WAS DESTINED FOR THE MEDICAL PROFESSION, RATHER THAN HOLT ORDERS ; AND SOME REMARKS UPON SERMONS. Je ne veux dissimuler, amy Lccteur, que je n'aye bien preveu, et me tiens pour deiiement adverty, que ne puts eviter la reprehension d'aucuns, el les calamities de plusiturs, ausquelt cest escrit desplaira du tout. CBRISTOFLE DE HERICOURT. FOURTEEN years have elapsed since the scene took place which is related in the twenty-second chapter : and Daniel the younger, at the time to which this present chapter refers, was residing at Doncaster with Peter Hopkins who practised the medical art in all its branches. He had lived with him eight years, first as a pupil, latterly in the capacity of an assistant, and afterwards as an adopted successor. How this connection between Daniel and Peter Hopkins was brought about, and the circumstances which prepared the way for it, would have appeared in some of the non- existent fourteen volumes, if it had pleased Fate that they should have been written. Some of my readers, and especially those who pride themselves upon their knowledge of the world, or their success in it, will think it strange, perhaps, that the elder Daniel, when he resolved to make a scholar of his son, did not determine upon breeding him either to the Church or the Law, in either of which professions the way was easier and more inviting. Now though this will not appear strange to those other readers who have perceived that the father had no knowledge of the world, and could have none, it is nevertheless proper to enter into some ex- planation upon that point. If George Herbert's Temple, or his Re- mains, or his life by old Izaak Walton, had all or any of them happened to be among those few but precious books which Daniel prized so highly and used so well, it is likely that the wish of his heart would have been to train up his Son for a Priest to the Temple. But so it was that none of his reading was of a kind to give his thoughts that direction ; and he had not conceived any exalted opinion of the Clergy from the specimens which had fallen in his way. A contempt which was but too general had been brought upon the Order by the igno- rance or the poverty of a great proportion of its members. The person who served the humble church which Daniel dutifully attended was almost as poor as a Capuchine, and quite as ignorant. This poor man had obtained in evil hour from some easy or careless Bishop a licence to preach. It was reprehensible enough to have ordained one who was destitute of every qualification that the office requires ; the fault was still greater in promoting him from the desk to the pulpit. "A very great Scholar" is quoted by Dr. Eachard as saying, " that such preach- ing as is usual is a hindrance of salvation rather than the means to it." This was said when the fashion of conceited preaching, which is satirised in Frey Gerundio, had extended to England, and though that fashion has so long been obsolete, that many persons will be surprised to hear it had ever existed among us, it may still reasonably be questioned whether sermons, such as they commonly are, do not quench more devotion than they kindle. My Lord ! put not the book aside in dis- pleasure! (I address myself to whatever Bishop may be reading it.) Unbiassed I will not call myself, for I am a true and THE DOCTOR. orthodox churchman, and have the interests of the Church zealously at heart, because I believe and know them to be essentially and inseparably connected with those of the commonwealth. But I have been an atten- tive observer, and as such, request a hear- ing. Receive my remarks as coming from one whose principles are in entire accord with your Lordship's, whose wishes have the same scope and purport, and who, while he offers his honest opinion, submits it with proper humility to your judgment. The founders of the English Church did not intend that the sermon should invariably form a part of the Sunday services.* It became so in condescension to the Puritans, of whom it has long been the fashion to speak with respect, instead of holding them up to the contempt and infamy and abhor- rence which they have so richly merited. They have been extolled by their descend- ants and successors as models of patriotism and piety ; and the success with which this delusion has been practised is one of the most remarkable examples of what may be effected by dint of effrontery and persever- ing falsehood. That sentence I am certain will not be disapproved at Fulham or Lambeth. Dr. Southey, or Dr. Phillpots, might have written it. The general standard of the Clergy has undoubtedly been very much raised since the days when they were not allowed to preach without a licence for that purpose from the Ordinary. Nevertheless it is cer- tain that many persons who are in other, and more material respects well, or even excellently, qualified for the ministerial func- tions, may be wanting in the qualifications for a preacher. A man may possess great learning, sound principles and good sense, and yet be without the talent of arranging and expressing his thoughts well in a written discourse : he may want the power of fixing the attention, or reaching the * Selden's words are not to be readily forgotten. " Preaching, for the most part, is the glory of the Preacher, to show himself a fine man. Catechising would do much better." TABLE TALK. hearts of his hearers ; and in that case the discourse, as some old writer has said in serious jest, which was designed for edifi- cation turns to ^edification. The evil was less in Addison's days, when he who dis- trusted his own abilities availed himself of the compositions of some approved Divine, and was not disparaged in the opinion of his congregation by taking a printed volume into the pulpit. This is no longer practised ; but instead of this, which secured whole- some instruction to the people, sermons are manufactured for sale, and sold in manu- script, or printed in a cursive type imitating manuscript. The articles which are pre- pared for such a market are, for the most part, copied from obscure books, with more or less alteration of language, and generally for the worse ; and so far as they are drawn from such sources they are not likely to contain any thing exceptionable on the score of doctrine : but the best authors will not be resorted to, for fear of discovery, and therefore when these are used, the congre- gation lose as much in point of instruction, as he who uses them ought to lose in self- esteem. But it is more injurious when a more scrupulous man composes his own dis- courses, if he be deficient either in judg- ment or learning. He is then more likely to entangle plain texts than to unravel knotty ones ; rash positions are sometimes advanced by such preachers, unsound argu- ments are adduced by them in support of momentous doctrines, and though these things neither offend the ignorant and care- less, nor injure the well-minded and well- informed, they carry poison with them when they enter a diseased ear. It cannot be doubted that such sermons act as corrobora- tives for infidelity. Nor when they contain nothing that is actually erroneous, but are merely unim- proving, are they in that case altogether harmless. They are not harmless if they are felt to be tedious. They are not harm- less if they torpify the understanding : a chill that begins there may extend to the vital regions. Bishop Taylor (the great 66 THE DOCTOR. Jeremy) says of devotional books, that " they are in a large degree the occasion of so great indevotion as prevails among the generality of nominal Christians, being," he says, " represented naked in the conclusions of spiritual life, without or art or learn- ing; and made apt for persons who can do nothing but believe and love, not for them that can consider and love." This applies more forcibly to bad sermons than to common-place books of devotion ; the book may be laid aside if it offend the reader's judgment, but the sermon is a positive infliction upon the helpless hearer. The same Bishop, and his name ought to carry with it authority among the wise and the good, has delivered an opinion upon this subject, in his admirable Apology for Authorized and Set Forms of Liturgy. " Indeed," he says, " if I may freely declare my opinion, I think it were not amiss, if the liberty of making sermons were something more restrained than it is ; and that such persons only were entrusted with the liberty, for whom the church herself may safely be responsive, that is, men learned and pious ; and that the other part, the vvlgus cleri, should instruct the people out of the foun- tains of the church and the public stock, till by so long exercise and discipline in the schools of the Prophets they may also be intrusted to minister of their own unto the people. This I am sure was the practice of the Primitive Church." " I am convinced," said Dr. Johnson, " that I ought to be at Divine Service more frequently than I am ; but the provocations given by ignorant and affected preachers too often disturb the mental calm which other- wise would succeed to prayer. I am apt to whisper to myself on such occasions, ' How can this illiterate fellow dream of fixing at- tention, after we have been listening to the sublimest truths, conveyed in the most chaste and exalted language, throughout a liturgy which must be regarded as the genuine off- spring of piety impregnated by wisdom ! ' " " Take notice, however," he adds, "though I make this confession respecting myself, I do not mean to recommend the fastidious- ness that sometimes leads me to exchange congregational for solitary worship." The saintly Herbert says, " Judge not the Preacher, for he is thy Judge ; If thou mislike him thou conceiv'st him not. God calleth preaching folly. Do not grudge To pick out treasures from an earthen pot. The worst speak something good. If all want sense, God takes a text and preacheth patience. He that gets patience and the blessing which Preachers conclude with, hath not lost his pains." This sort of patience was all that Daniel could have derived from the discourses of the poor curate ; and it was a lesson of which his meek and benign temper stood in no need. Nature had endowed him with this virtue, and this Sunday's discipline exercised without strengthening it. While he was, in the phrase of the Religious Public, sitting under the preacher, he obeyed to a certain extent George Herbert's precept, that is, he obeyed it as he did other laws with the existence of which he was unacquainted, Let vain or busy thoughts have there no part : Bring not thy plough, thy plots, thy pleasure thither. Pleasure made no part of his speculations at any time. Plots he had none. For the Plough, it was what he never followed in fancy, patiently as he plodded after the fur- row in his own vocation. And then for worldly thoughts they were not likely in that place to enter a mind which never at any time entertained them. But to that sort of thought (if thought it may be called) which cometh as it listeth, and which when the mind is at ease and the body in health, is the forerunner and usher of sleep, he certainly gave way. The curate's voice passed over his ear like the sound of the brook with which it blended, and it conveyed to him as little meaning and less feeling. During the sermon, therefore, he retired into himself, with as much or as little edification as a Quaker finds at a silent meeting. It happened also that of the few clergy within the very narrow circle in which Daniel moved, some were in no good repute for their conduct, and none displayed either that zeal in the discharge of their pastoral functions, or that earnestness and ability in performing the service of the Church, which THE DOCTOR. (57 are necessary for commanding the respect and securing the affections of the parish- ioners. The clerical profession had never presented itself to him in its best, which is really its true light ; and for that cause he would never have thought of it for the boy, even if the means of putting him forward in this path had been easier and more obvious than they were. And for the dissenting ministry, Daniel liked not the name of a Nonconformist. The Puritans had left be- hind them an ill savour in his part of the country, as they had done every where else ; and the extravagances of the primitive 1 Quakers, which during his childhood were fresh in remembrance, had not yet been forgotten. It was well remembered in those parts that the Vicar of Kirkby Lonsdale, through the malignity of some of his puritanical parishioners, had been taken out of his bed from his wife who was then big with child and hurried away to Lancaster jail, where he was imprisoned three years for no other offence than that of fidelity to his Church and his King. And that the man who was a chief instigator of this persecu- tion, and had enriched himself by the spoil of his neighbour's goods, though he nourished for awhile, bought a field and built a fine house, came to poverty at last, and died in prison, having for some time received his daily food there from the table of one of this very Vicar's sons. It was well remembered also that, in a parish of the adjoining county- palatine, the puritanical party had set fire in the night to the Rector's barns, stable, and parsonage; and that he and his wife and children had only as it were by miracle escaped from the flames. William Dove had also among his tradi- tional stores some stories of a stranger kind concerning the Quakers, these parts of the North having been a great scene of their vagaries in their early days. He used to relate how one of them went into the church at Brough, during the reign of the Puritans, with a white sheet about his body, and a rope about bis neck, to prophesy before the people and their Whig Priest (as he called him) that the surplice which was then pro- hibited should again come into use, and that the Galiows should have its due ! And how when their ringleader, George Fox, was put in prison at Carlisle, the wife of Justice Benson would eat no meat unless she par- took it with him at the bars of his dungeon, declaring she was moved to do this ; where- fore it was supposed he had bewitched her. And not without reason ; for when this old George went, as he often did, into the Church to disturb the people, and they thrust him out, and fell upon him and beat him, sparing neither sticks nor stones if they came to hand, he was presently, for all that they had done to him, as sound and as fresh as if nothing had touched him ; and when they tried to kill him, they could not take away his life ! And how this old George rode a great black horse, upon which he was seen in the course of the same hour at two places, threescore miles distant from each other ! And how some of the women who followed this old George used to strip off all their clothes, and in that plight go into the church at service time on the Sunday, to bear testi- mony against the pomps and vanities of the world ; " and to be sure," said William, " they must have been witched, or they never would have done this." " Lord de- liver us ! " said Dinah, " to be sure they must ! " " To be sure they must, Lord bless us all ! " said Haggy. CHAPTER XXVH. P. I. A PASSAGE IN PROCOPIUS IMPROVED. A STORY CONCERNING UR1M AND THUMMIM ; AND THE ELDER DANIEL'S OPINION OF THE PROFESSION OF THE LAW, Here is Dotnine Picklock, My man of Law, sollicits all my causes, Follows my business, makes and compounds my quarrels Between my tenants and me ; sows all my strifes And reaps them too, troubles the country for me, And vexes any neighbour that I please. BEN JONSON. AMONG the people who were converted to the Christian faith during the sixth century G8 THE DOCTOR. were two tribes or nations called the Lazi and the Zani. Methinks it had been better if they had been left unconverted ; for they have multiplied prodigiously among us, so that between the Lazy Christians and the Zany ones, Christianity has grievously suffered. It was one of the Zany tribe whom Guy once heard explaining to his congregation what was meant by Urim and Thummim, and in technical phrase improving the text. Urim and Thummim, he said, were two precious stones, or rather stones above all price, the Hebrew names of which have been interpreted to signify Light and Perfection, or Doctrine and Judgment, (which Luther prefers in his Bible, and in which some of the northern versions have followed him,) or the Shining and the Perfect, or Manifesta- tion and Truth, the words in the original being capable of any or all of these signi- fications. They were set in the High Priest's breast-plate of judgment ; and when he consulted them upon any special occasion to discover the will of God, they displayed an extraordinary brilliancy if the matter which was referred to this trial were pleasing to the Lord Jehovah, but they gave no lustre if it were disapproved. " My Brethren," said the Preacher, " this is what learned Expositors, Jewish and Christian, tell me concerning these two precious stones. The stones themselves are lost. But, my Christian Brethren, we need them not, for we have a surer means of consulting and discovering the will of God ; and still it is by Urim and Thummim, if we alter only a single letter in one of those mysterious words. Take your Bible, my brethren ; use him and thumb him use him and thumb him well, and you will discover the will of God as surely as ever the High Priest did by the stones in his breast-plate ! " What Daniel saw of the Lazi, and what he heard of the Zani, prevented him from ever forming a wish to educate his son for a North country cure, which would have been all the preferment that lay within his view. And yet, if any person to whose judgment he deferred, had reminded him that Bishop Latimer had risen from as hum- ble an origin, it might have awakened in him a feeling of ambition for the boy, not inconsistent with his own philosophy. But no suggestions could ever have in- duced Daniel to choose for him the profes- sion of the Law. The very name of Lawyer was to him a word of evil acceptation. Mon- taigne has a pleasant story of a little boy who when his mother had lost a lawsuit, which he had always heard her speak of as a perpetual cause of trouble, ran up to her in great glee to tell her of the loss as a mat- ter for congratulation and joy ; the poor child thought it was like losing a cough, or any other bodily ailment. Daniel enter- tained the same sort of opinion concerning all leg il proceedings. He knew that laws were necessary evils ; but he thought they were much greater evils than there was any necessity that they should be ; and believing this to be occasioned by those who were engaged in the trade of administering them, he looked upon lawyers as the greatest pests in the country Because, their end being merely avarice, Winds up their wits to such a nimble strain As helps to blind the Judge, not give him eyes.* He had once been in the Courts at Lancas- ter, having been called upon as witness in a civil suit, and the manner in which he was cross-examined there by one of those "young spruce Lawyers," whom Donne has so hap- pily characterised as being " all impudence and tongue " had confirmed him in this prejudice. What he saw of the proceedings that day induced him to agree with Beaumont and Fletcher, that Justice was a Cheese-monger, a mere cheese-monger, Weighed nothing to the world but mites and maggots And a main stink ; Law, like a horse-courser, Her rules and precepts hung with gauds and ribbands, And pampered up to cozen him that bought her, When she herself was hackney, lame and founder'd.f His was too simple and sincere an under- standing to admire in any other sense than that of wondering at them * LORD BROOKE. f WOMEN PLEASED. THE DOCTOR. 69 Men of that large profession that can speak To every cause, and things mere contraries, Till they are hoarse again, yet all be taw ! That with most quick agility can turn. And re-return ; can make knots and undo them, Give forked counsel, take provoking gold On either hand, and put it up. These men He knew would thrive ; * but far was he from wishing that a son of his should thrive by such a perversion of his intellectual powers, and such a corruption of his moral nature. On the other hand he felt a degree of respect amounting almost to reverence for the healing art, which is connected with so many mysteries of art and nature. And therefore when an opportunity offered of placing his son with a respectable practi- tioner, who he had every reason for believing would behave toward him with careful and prudent kindness, his entire approbation was given to the youth's own choice. CHAPTER XXVIIL PETER HOPKINS. EFFECTS OF TIME AND CHANGE. DESCRIPTION OF HIS DWEIJLING- HOUSE. Combien de changemens depuis que suis au monde, Qui n'esl qu'un point du tems! FASQI'IER. PETER HOPKINS was a person who might have suffered death by the laws of Solon, if that code had been established in this coun- try ; for though he lived in the reigns of George I. and George II., he was neither Whig nor Tory, Hanoverian nor Jacobite. When he drank the King's health with any of his neighbours, he never troubled him- self with considering which King was in- tended, nor to which side of the water their good wishes were directed. Under George or Charles he would have been the same quiet subject, never busying himself with a thought about political matters, and having no other wish concerning them than that they might remain as they were, so far he was a Hanoverian, and no farther. There was something of the same temper in his religion ; he was a sincere Christian, and had he been born to attendance at the Mass or the Meeting House would have>sbeen equally sincere in his attachment to either of those extremes : for his whole mind was in his profession. He was learned in its history ; fond of its theories ; and skilful in its practice, in which he trusted little to theory and much to experience. Both he and his wife were at this time well stricken in years; they had no children, and no near kindred on either side ; and being both kind-hearted people, the liking which they soon entertained toward Daniel for his docility, his simplicity of heart, his obliging temper, his original cast of mind, and his never-failing good-humour, ripened into a settled affection. Hopkins lived next door to the Mansion House, which edifice was begun a few years after Daniel went to live with him. There is a view of the Mansion House in Dr. Miller's History of Doncaster, and in that print the dwelling in question is included. It had undergone no other alteration at the time this view was taken than that of hav- ing had its casements replaced by sash windows, an improvement which had been made by our Doctor, when the frame-work of the casements had become incapable of repair. The gilt pestle and mortar also had been removed from its place above the door. Internally the change had been greater ; for the same business not being continued there after the Doctor's decease, the shop had been converted into a sitting room, and the very odour of medicine had passed away. But I will not allow myself to dwell upon this melancholy subject. The world is full of mutations ; and there is hardly any that does not bring with it some regret at the time, and alas, more in the retrospect ! I have lived to see the American Colonies separated from Great Britain, the Kingdom of Poland extinguished, the Republic of Venice destroyed, its territory seized by one Usurper, delivered over in exchange to another, and the transfer sanctioned and con- 70 THE DOCTOR. firmed by all the Powers of Europe in Congress assembled! I have seen Heaven knows how many little Principalities and States, proud of their independence, and happy in the privileges connected with it, swallowed up by the Austrian or the Prus- sian Eagle, or thrown to the Belgic Lion, as his share in the division of the spoils. I have seen constitutions spring up like mush- rooms and kicked down as easily. I have seen the rise and fall of Napoleon. I have seen Cedars fall And in their room a mushroom grow ; I have seen Comets, threatening all, Vanish themselves ; * wherefore then should I lament over what time and mutability have done to a private dwelling-house in Doncaster ? It was an old house, which when it was built had been one of the best in Doncaster ; and even after the great improvements which have changed the appearance of the town, had an air of antiquated respectability about it. Had it been near the church it would have been taken for the Vicarage ; standing where it did, its physiognomy was such that you might have guessed it was the Doctor's house, even if the pestle and mortar had not been there as his insignia. There were eight windows and two doors in front. It consisted of two stories, and was oddly built, the middle part having, something in the Scotch manner, the form of a gable end towards the street. Behind this was a single chimney, tall, and shaped like a pillar. In windy nights the Doctor was so often con- sulted by Mrs. Dove concerning the stability of that chimney, that he accounted it the plague of his life. But it was one of those evils which could not be removed without bringing on a worse, the alternative being whether there should be a tall chimney, or a smoky house. And after the mansion house was erected, there was one wind which, in spite of the chimney's elevation, drove the smoke down, so inconvenient is it some- times to be fixed near a great neighbour. This unfortunate chimney, being in the * HABINGTON. middle of the house, served for four apart- ments ; the Doctor's study and his bed- chamber on the upper floor, the kitchen and the best parlour on the lower, that parlour, yes, Reader, that very parlour wherein, as thou canst not have forgotten, Mrs. Dove was making tea for the Doctor on that ever memorable afternoon with which our history begins. CHAPTER XXIX. P. I. A HINT OF REMINISCENCE TO THE READER. THE CLOCK OF ST. GEORGE'S. A WORD IN HONOUR OF ARCHDEACON MARKHAM. There is a ripe season for every thing, and if you slip that or anticipate it, you dim the grace of the matter be it never so good. As we say by way of Proverb that an hasty birth brings forth blind whelps, so a good tale tumbled out before the time is ripe for it, is ungrateful to the hearer. BISHOP HACKETT. THE judicious reader will now have per- ceived that in the progress of this narrative, which may be truly said to bear A music in the ordered history It lays before us, we have arrived at that point which de- termines the scene and acquaints him with the local habitation of the Doctor. He will perceive also that in our method of narra- tion, nothing has been inartificially antici- pated ; that, there have been no premature disclosures, no precipitation, no hurry, or impatience on my part ; and that, on the other hand, there has been no unnecessary delay, but that we have regularly and naturally come to this development. The author who undertakes a task like mine, must nombre al the hole cyrcumitaunce Of hys matter with brevyacion, as an old Poet * says of the professors of the rhyming art, and must moreover be careful That he walke not by longe continuance The perambulate way, * HAWE'S " Pastime of Pleasure.' TUP: DOCTOR. as I have been, O Reader ! and as it is my fixed intention still to be. Thou knowest, gentle Reader, that I have never wearied thee with idle and worthless words ; thou knowest that the old comic writer spake truly when he said, that the man who speaks little says too much, if he says what is not to the point ; but that he who speaks well and wisely, will never be accused of speak- ing at too great length, rut JO'TO f&rM tr Tot (A*! Xiy My good Readers will remember that, as was duly noticed in our first chapter P I. the clock of St. George's had just struck five, when Mrs. Dove was pouring out the seventh cup of tea for her husband, and when our history opens. I have some ob- servations to make concerning both the tea and the tea service, which will clear the Doctor from any imputation of intemper- ance in his use of that most pleasant, salu- tiferous and domesticising beverage : but it would disturb the method of my narration were they to be introduced in this place. Here I have something to relate about the Clock. Some forty or fifty years ago a Butcher, being one of the Churchwardens of the year, and fancying himself in that capacity invested with full power to alter and improve any thing in or about the Church, thought proper to change the posi- tion of the clock, and, accordingly, had it removed to the highest part of the tower, immediately under the battlements. Much beautiful Gothic work was cut away to make room for the three dials, which he placed on three sides of this fine tower ; and when he was asked what had induced him thus doubly to disfigure the edifice, by mis- placing the dials, and destroying so much of the ornamental part, the great and greasy killcow answered that by fixing the dials so high, he could now stand at his own shop- door and see what it was o'clock ! That convenience this arrant churchwarden had the satisfaction of enjoying for several years, there being no authority that could call him to account for the insolent mischief he had done. But Archdeacon Markham (to his praise be it spoken), at the end of the last century, prevailed on the then church- wardens to remove two of the dials, and restore the architectural ornaments which had been defaced. This was the clock which, with few inter- vals, measured out by hours the life of Daniel Dove from the seventeenth year of his age, when he first set up his rest within its sound. Perhaps of all the works of man sun-dials and church-clocks are those which have conveyed most feeling to the human heart ; the clock more than the sun-dial, because it speaks to the ear as well as to the eye, and by night as well as by day. Our forefathers understood this, and, therefore, they not only gave a Tongue to Time *, but provided that he should speak often to us, and re- mind us that the hours are passing. Their quarter-boys and their chimes were de- signed for this moral purpose as much as the memento which is so commonly seen upon an old clock-face, and so seldom upon a new one. I never hear chimes that they do not remind me of those which were formerly the first sounds I heard in the morning, which used to quicken my step on my way to school, and which announced my release from it, when the same tune me- thought had always a merrier import. When I remember their tones, life seems to me like a dream, and a train of recollections arises, which, if it were allowed to have its course, would end in tears. The bell strikes one. We take no note of time But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man." YOUNG'S Kigfit Thoughts. Night I. 72 THE DOCTOR. CHAPTER XXX. P. I. THB OLD BELLS HUNG TO A NEW TUNE. If the bell have any sides the clapper will find 'em. BEN JONSON. THAT same St. George's Church has a peal of eight tunable bells, in the key of E. b. the first bell weighing seven hundred, one quarter, and fourteen pounds. Tra tutte quante le musiche humane, O Sfgnor mio gentil, tra le piu care Gioje del mondo, e 'I suon delle can/pane ; Don don don don don don, che ve ne pare ? * They were not christened, because they were not Roman Catholic bells ; for in Roman Catholic countries church bells are christened with the intention of causing them to be held in greater reverence, perb ordino n'un consistoro Un certo di quei buon papi all' antica, Che non ci lavoravan di straforo, Che la campnna if, si benedica, Pot sibattezzi, e se le punga il name, Prima che' tn campanil I' tifizio dica. Gli organi, ch' anco lor san si ben come Si dica il vespro, e le messe canlale, Non hanno questo honor sopra le chiome. Che le lor canne non son baltezzate, Ne' name ha f una Pier, V allra Maria Come hanno le campane prelibate .* The bells of St. George's, Doncaster, I say, were not christened, because they were Protestant bells ; for distinction's sake, how- ever, we will name them as the bells stand in the dirge of that unfortunate Cat whom Johnny Green threw into the well. But it will be better to exhibit their relative weights in figures, so that they may be seen synoptically. Thus then ; Bim the first Bim the second Bim the third Bim the fourth Bim the fifth Bim the sixth Bom Bell - - Cwt. 7 8 8 10 13 15 22 29 qr. 1 2 3 1. 2 1 1 14 18 6 15 16 20 * AGNOLO FIRKNZUOLA. I cannot but admit that these appellations are not so stately in appearance as those of the peal which the Bishop of Chalons recently baptized, and called a " happy and holy family " in the edifying discourse that he delivered upon the occasion. The first of these was called Marie, to which or to whom the Duke and Duchess of Dander- ville (so the newspapers give this name) stood sponsors. " It is you, Marie," said the Bishop, " who will have the honour to an- nounce the festivals, and proclaim the glory of the Lord ! You appear among us under the most happy auspices, presented by those respectable and illustrious hands to which the practices of piety have been so long familiar. And you, Anne," he pursued, addressing the second bell, "an object worthy of the zeal and piety of our first magistrate (the Prefect), and of her who so nobly shares his solicitude, you shall be charged with the same employment. Your voice shall be joined to Marie's upon im- portant occasions. Ah ! what touching les- sons will you not give in imitation of her whose name you bear, and whom we reve- rence as the purest of Virgins ! You, also, Deodate, will take part in this concert, you whom an angel, a new-born infant, has con- jointly with me consecrated to the Lord ! Speak, Deodate ! and let us hear your marvellous accents." This Angel and God- mother, in whose name the third bell was given, was Mademoiselle Deodate Boisset, then in the second month of her age, daughter of Viscount Boisset. " And you, Stephanie, crowned with glory," continued the orator, in learned allusion to the Greek word arifyavoc, " you are not less worthy to mingle your accents with the melody of your sisters. And you, lastly, Seraphine and Pudentienne, you will raise your voices in this touching concert, happy all of you in having been presented to the benedic- tions of the Church, by these noble and generous souls, so praiseworthy for the liveliness of their faith, and the holiness of their example." And then the Bishop con- cluded by calling upon the congregation to join with him in prayer that the Almighty THE DOCTOR. 73 would be pleased to preserve from all accidents this " happy and holy family of the bells." We have no such sermons from our Bishops! The whole ceremony must have been as useful to the bells as it was edify- ing to the people. Were I called upon to act as sponsor upon such an occasion, I would name my bell Peter Bell, in honour of Mr. Words- worth. There has been a bull so called, and a bull it was of great merit. But if it were the great bell, then it should be called Andrew, in honour of Dr. Bell ; and that bell should call the children to school. There are, I believe, only two bells in England which are known by their Christian names, and they are both called Tom ; but Great Tom of Oxford, which happens to be much the smaller of the two, was christened in the feminine gender, being called Mary, in the spirit of catholic and courtly adula- tion at the commencement of the bloody Queen's reign. Tresham, the Vice-Chan- cellor, performed the ceremony, and his exclamation, when it first summoned him to mass, has been recorded : " O delicate and sweet harmony ! O beautiful Mary ! how musically she sounds ! how strangely she pleaseth my ear ! " In spite of this christening, the object of Dr. Tresham's admiration is as decidedly a Tom-Bell as the Puss in Boots who ap- peared at a Masquerade (Theodore Hook remembers when and where) was a Tom Cat. Often as the said Tom-Bell has been mentioned, there is but one other anecdote recorded of him ; it occurred on Thursday the thirteenth day of March, 1 806, and was thus described in a letter written two hours after the event : " An odd thing happened to-day, about half-past four, Tom suddenly went mad ; he began striking as fast as he could about twenty times. Every body went out doubting whether there was an earthquake, or whether the Dean was dead, or the College on fire. However, nothing was the matter but that Tom was taken ill in his bowels : in other words, something had happened to the works, but it was not of any serious consequence, for he has struck six as well as ever, and bids fair to toll 101 to-night as well as he did before the attack." This was written by a youth of great natural endowments, rare acquirements, playful temper, and affectionate heart. If his days had been prolonged, his happy industry, his inoffensive wit, his sound judge- ment and his moral worth, favoured as they were by all favourable circumstances, must have raised him to distinction ; and the name of Barre Roberts, which is now known only in the little circle of his own and his father's friends, would have had its place with those who have deserved well of their kind and reflected honour upon their country. But I return to a subject, which would have interested him in his antiquarian pursuits, for he loved to wander among the Ruins of Time. We will return there- fore to that ceremony of christening Church Bells, which, with other practices of the Holy Roman Catholic and Apostolic Church, has been revived in France. Bells, say those Theologians in issimi who have gravely written upon this grave matter, Bells, say they, are not actually baptized with that baptism which is administered for the remission of sins ; but they are said to be christened because the same ceremonies which are observed in christening children are also observed in consecrating them, such as the washing, the anointing, and the imposing a name ; all which, however, may more strictly be said to represent the signs and symbols of baptism than they may be called baptism itself. Nothing can be more candid ! Bells arc not baptized for the remission of sins, because the original sin of a bell would be a flaw in the metal, or a defect in the tone, neither of which the Priest undertakes to remove. There was however a previous ceremony of blessing the furnace when the bells were cast within the precincts of a monastery, as they most frequently were in former times, and this may have been intended for the prevention of such defects. The Brethren stood round the furnace ranged in proces- 74 THE DOCTOR. sional order, sang the 150th Psalm, and then after certain prayers blessed the molten metal, and called upon the Lord to infuse into it his grace and overshadow it with his power, for the honour of the Saint to whom the bell was to be dedicated and whose name it was to bear. When the tune of christening came, the officiating Priest and his assistant named every bell five times, as a sort of prelude, for some unexplained reason which may perhaps be as significant and mystical as the other parts of the ceremony. He then blessed the water in two vessels which were prepared for the service. Dipping a clean linen cloth in one of these vessels, he washed the bell within and without, the bell being suspended over a vessel wider in circum- ference than the bell's mouth, in order that no drop of the water employed in this wash- ing might fall to the ground ; for the water was holy. Certain psalms were said or sung (they were the 96th and the four last in the psalter) during this part of the ceremony and while the officiating Priest prepared the water in the second vessel : this he did by sprinkling salt in it, and putting holy oil upon it, either with his thumb, or with a stick ; if the thumb were used, it was to be cleaned immediately by rubbing it well with salt over the same water. Then he dipt another clean cloth in this oiled and salted water, and again washed the bell within and without : after the service the cloths were burnt lest they should be pro- faned by other uses. The bell was then authentically named. Then it was anointed with chrism in the form of a cross four times on the broadest part of the outside, thrice on the smaller part, and four times on the inside, those parts being anointed with most care against which the clapper was to strike. After this the name was again given. Myrrh and frankincense were then brought, the bell was incensed while part of a psalm was recited, and the bell was authentically named a third time ; after which the priest care- fully wiped the chrism from the bell with tow, and the tow was immediately burnt in the censer. Next the Priest struck each bell thrice with its clapper, and named it again at every stroke ; every one of the assistants in like manner struck it and named it once. The bells were then care- fully covered each with a cloth and immedi- diately hoisted that they might not be con- taminated by any irreverent touch. The Priest concluded by explaining to the con- gregation, if he thought proper, the reason for this ceremony of christening the bells, which was that they might act as preserva- tives against thunder and lightning, and hail and wind, and storms of every kind, and moreover that they might drive away evil Spirits. To these and their other virtues the Bishop of Chalons alluded in his late truly Gallican and Roman Catholic discourse. " The Bells," said he, " placed like sentinels on the towers, watch over us and turn away from us the temptations of the enemy of our salvation, as well as storms and tempests. They speak and pray for us in our troubles ; they inform heaven of the necessities of the earth." Now were this edifying part of the Roman Catholic ritual to be re-introduced in the British dominions, as it very possibly may be now that Lord Peter has appeared in his robes before the King, and been introduced by his title, the opportunity would no doubt be taken by the Bishop or Jesuit who might direct the proceedings, of com- plimenting the friends of their cause by naming the first " holy and happy family " after them. And to commemorate the ex- traordinary union of sentiment which that cause has brought about between persons not otherwise remarkable for any similitude of feelings or opinions, they might unite two or more names in one bell (as is frequently done in the human subject), and thus with a peculiar felicity of compliment show who and who upon this great and memorable occasion have pulled together. In such a case the names selected for a peal of eight tunable bells might run thus : Bim 1st. Canning O'Connel. Bim 2d. Plunkett Shiel. Bim 3d. Augustus Frederick Cohbett. THE DOCTOR. 75 Bim 4th. Williams Wynn Burdett Waithman. Bim 5th. Grenville Wood. Bim 6th. Palmerston Hume. Boin Lawless Brougham. Bell Lord King, per se ; alone par excellence, as the thickest and thinnest friend of the cause, and moreover because None but himself can be his parallel ; and last in order because the base note accords best with him ; and because for the decorum and dignity with which he has at all times treated the Bishops, the clergy and the subject of religion, he must be allowed to bear the bell not from his compeers alone but from all his contemporaries. CHAPTER XXXI. P. I. MOKE CONCERNING BELLS. Lord, ringing changes all our bells hath marr'd ; Jangled they have and jarr'd So long, they're out of tune, and out of frairre ; They seem not now the same. Put them in frame anew, and once begin To tune them so, that they may chime all in ! HERBERT. THERE are more mysteries in a peal of bells than were touched upon by the Bishop of Chalons in his sermon. There are plain bob-triples, bob-majors, bob-majors re- versed, double bob-majors, and grandsire- bob-cators, and there is a Bob-maximus. Who Bob was, and whether he were Bob Major, or Major Bob, that is whether Major were his name or his rank, and if his rank, to what service he belonged, are questions which inexorable Oblivion will not answer, how- ever earnestly adjured. And there is no Witch of Endor who will call up Bob from the grave to answer them himself. But there are facts in the history of bell- ringing which Oblivion has not yet made her own, and one of them is that the greatest per- formance ever completedby one person in the world was that of Mr. Samuel Thurston at the New Theatre Public House in the City of Norwich, on Saturday evening, July 1, 1809, when he struck all these intricate short peals, the first four upon a set of eight musical hand-bells, the last on a peal of ten. But a performance upon hand-bells when compared to bell-ringing is even less than a review in comparison with a battle. Strength of arm as well as skill is required for managing a bell-rope. Samuel Thurs- ton's peal of plain bob-triples was " nobly brought round " in two minutes and three quarters, and his grandsire-bob-cators were as nobly finished in five minutes and four- teen seconds. The reader shall now see what real bell-ringing is. The year 1796 was remarkable for the performance of great exploits in this manly and English art, for to England the art is said to be peculiar, the cheerful carrillons of the continent being played by keys. In that year, and in the month of August, the Westmoreland youths rang a complete peal of 5040 grandsire-triples in St. Mary's Church, Kendal, being the whole number of changes on seven bells. The peal was divided into ten parts, or courses of 504 each ; the bobs were called by the sixth, a lead single was made in the middle of the peal, and another at the conclusion, which brought the bells home. Distinct leads and exact di- visions were observed throughout the whole, and the performance was completed in three hours and twenty minutes. A like per- formance took place in the same month at Kidderminster in three hours and fourteen minutes. Stephen Hill composed and called the peal, it was conducted through with one single, which was brought to the 4984th change, viz. 1,267,453. This was allowed by those who were conversant in the art to exceed any peal ever yet rung in this king- dom by that method. Paulo majora canamus. The Society of Cambridge youths that same year rang, in the Church of St. Mary the Great, a true and complete peal of Bob-maximus in five hours and five minutes. This consisted of 6600 changes, and for regularity of striking and harmony throughout the peal was 76 THE DOCTOR. allowed by competent judges to be a very masterly performance. In point of time the striking was to such a nicety that in each thousand changes the time did not vary one sixteenth of a minute, and the compass of the last thousand was exactly equal to the first. Eight Birmingham youths (some of them were under twenty years of age) attempted a greater exploit ; they ventured upon a complete peal of 15,120 bob-major. They failed indeed, magnis tamen ousts. For after they had rang upwards of eight hours and a half, they found themselves so much fatigued that they desired the caller would take the first opportunity to bring the bells home. This he soon did by omitting a bob, and so brought them round, thus making a peal of 14,224 changes in eight hours and forty -five minutes; the longest which was ever rung in that part of the country, or perhaps any where else. In that same year died Mr. Patrick, the celebrated composer of church-bell music, and senior of the Society of Cumberland Youths, an Hibernian sort of distinction for one in middle or later life. He is the same person whose name was well known in the scientific world as a maker of barome- ters ; and he it was who composed the whole peal of Stedman's triples, 5040 changes, (which his obituarist says had till then been deemed impracticable, and for the discovery of which he received a premium of 50/. offered for that purpose by the Norwich amateurs of the art,) "his productions of real double and treble bob-royal being a standing monument of his unparalleled and superlative merits." This Mr. Patrick was interred on the afternoon of Sunday, June 26, in the churchyard of St. Leonard, Shoreditch ; the corpse was followed to the grave by all the Ringing Societies in London and its environs, each sounding hand-bells with muffled clappers, the church bells at the same time ringing a dead peal : 'fis uy iptfixin rifm Harfixes /SoCtoJ*/aMi James Ogden was interred with honours of the same kind at Ashton-under-Line, in the year of this present writing, 1827. His remains were borne to the grave by the ringers of St. Michael's Tower in that town, with whom he had rung the tenor bell for more than fifty years, and with whom he performed "the unprecedented feat" of ringing five thousand on that bell (which weighed 28 cwt.) in his sixty-seventh year. After the funeral his old companions rang a dead peal for him of 828 changes, that being the number of the months of his life. Such in England are the funeral honours of the It would take ninety-one years to ring the changes upon twelve bells, at the rate of two strokes to a second ; the changes upon fourteen could not be rung through at the same rate in less than 16,575 years ; and upon four and twenty they would require more than 117,000 billions of years. Great then are the mysteries of bell-ring- ing ! And this may be said in its praise, that of all devices which men have sought out for obtaining distinction by making a noise in the world, it is the most harmless.* CHAPTER XX XII. P.I. AN INTRODUCTION TO CERTAIN PRELIMI- NARIES ESSENTIAL TO THE PROGRESS OF THIS WORK. Mas demos ya el asiento en lo importante, Que el tiempo huye del mundo par la posta. BALBUENA. THE subject of these memoirs heard the bells of St. George's ring for the battles of Dettin- gen and Culloden ; for Commodore Anson's return and Admiral Hawke's victory ; for the conquest of Quebec ; for other victories, important in their day, though in the retro - * Some readers may not be displeased with these old lines. TlNTlNNABULUM SONAT ! Laudo Deum Verum, plebem TOCO, congrego clerum ; Defunctos ploro, pestem fugo, festa decoro. THE DOCTOR. 77 speet they may seem to have produced little effect ; and for more than one Peace ; for the going out of the Old Style, and for the coming in of the New ; for the accession, marriage, and coronation of George HI. ; for the birth of George IV. ; and that of all his royal brethren and sisters ; and what was to him a subject of nearer and dearer interest than any of these events, for his own wedding. What said those bells to him that happy day ? for that bells can convey articulate sounds to those who have the gift of interpreting their language, Whit- tington, Lord Mayor of London Town, knew by fortunate experience. So did a certain Father Confessor in the Netherlands, whom a buxom widow con- sulted upon the perilous question whether she should marry a second husband, or con- tinue in,,widowed blessedness. The prudent Priest deemed it too delicate a point for him to decide ; so he directed her to attend to the bells of her church when next they chimed (they were but three in number) and bring him word what she thought they said ; and he exhorted her to pray in the mean time earnestly for grace to under- stand them rightly, and in the sense that might be most for her welfare here and here- after, as he on his part would pray for her. She listened with mouth and ears the first time that the bells struck up ; and the more she listened, the more plainly they said " Nempt een man, Nempt een man ! Take a Spouse, Take a Spouse ! " " Aye, Daughter ! " said the Confessor, when she returned to him with her report, " if the bells have said so, so say I ; and not I alone, but the Apostle also, and the Spirit who through that Apostle hath told us when it is best for us to marry ! " Reader, thou mayest thank the Leonine poet Gummarus Van Craen for this good story. What said the Bells of Doncaster to our dear Doctor on that happy niorninjr which made him a whole man by uniting to him the rib that he till then had wanted ? They said to him as distinctly as they spoke to Whit- tington, and to the Flemish Widow, Daniel Dove brings Deborah home. Daniel Dove brings Deborah home. i Daniel Dove brings Deborah home. But whither am I hurrying ? It was not till the year 1761 that that happy union was effected ; and the fourteen years whose course of events I have reluctantly, yet of necessity, pretermitted, bring us only to 1748, in which year the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle was made. Peter Hopkins and Mrs. Hop- kins were then both living, and Daniel had not attained to the honours of his diploma. Before we come to the day on which the bells rang that joyful peal, I must enter into some details for the purpose of showing how he became qualified for his degree, and how he was enabled to take it ; and it will be necessary therefore to say something of the opportunities of instruction which he en- joyed under Hopkins, and of the state of society in Doncaster at that time. And preliminary to, as preparatory for all this, some account is to be given of Doncaster itself. Reader, you may skip this preliminary account if you please, but it will be to your loss if you do ! You perhaps may be one of those persons who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and neither make inquiry con- cerning, nor take notice of, any thing on the way ; but, thank Heaven, I cannot pass through Doncaster in any such mood of mind. If, however, thou belongest to a better class, then may I promise that in what is here to follow thou wilt find something to recompense thee for the little time thou wilt employ in reading it, were that time more than it will be, or more valuable than it is. For I shall assuredly either tell thee of something which thou didst not know before 78 THE DOCTOR. (and let me observe by the bye that I never obtained any information of any kind which did not on some occasion or other prove available) or I shall waken up to pleasur- able consciousness thy napping knowledge. Snuff the candles therefore, if it be candle- light, and they require it (I hope, for thine eyes' sake, thou art not reading by a lamp !) stir the fire, if it be winter, and it be prudent to refresh it with the poker ; and then comfortably begin a new chapter : Faciam ut hujus loci semper memineris." CHAPTER XXXIII. P. I. DONCASTRIANA. THE RIVER DON. Rivers from bubbling springs Have rise at first ; and great from abject things. MlDDLETON. How would it have astonished Peter Hop- kins if some one gifted with the faculty of second-sight had foretold to him that, at the sale of Pews in a new Church at Doncaster, eighteen of those Pews should produce up- wards of sixteen hundred pounds, and that one of them should be bought at the price of ^138, a sum for which, in his days, lands enough might have been purchased to have qualified three men as Yorkshire Free- holders ! How would it have surprised him to have been told that Doncaster races would become the greatest meeting in the North of England ; that Princes would attend them, and more money would annually be won and lost there than might in old times have sufficed for a King's ransom ! But the Doncaster of George the Fourth's reign is not more like the Doncaster of George the Second's, than George the Fourth himself, in manners, habit, character, and person is like his royal Great Grandfather ; not more like than to the Doncaster of the United States, if such a place there be there; or TERENCE to the Doncaster that may be in New South Wales, Van Diemen's or Swan-river-land. It was a place of considerable importance when young Daniel first became an inhabit- ant of it ; but it was very far from having attained all the advantages arising from its well -endowed corporation, its race-ground, and its position on the great north road. It is beyond a doubt that Doncaster may be identified with the Danum of Antoninus and the Notitia, the Caer Daun of Nennius, and the Dona-cester of the Saxons ; whether it were the Campo-Donum of Bede, a royal residence of the Northumbrian Kings, where Paulinus the Romish Apostle of Nor- thumbria built a Church, which, with the town itself, was burnt by the Welsh King Cadwallon, and his Saxon Ally the Pagan Penda, after a battle in which Edwin fell, is not so certain : antiquaries differ upon this point, but they who maintain the affirmative appear to have the strongest case. In the charter granted to it by Richard Cceur de Lion the town is called Danecastre. The name indicates that it was a Roman Station on the river Dan, Don or Dun, " so called," says Camden, " because 'tis carried in a low deep channel, for that is the signifi- cation of the British word Dan." I thank Dr. Prichard for telling me what it was not possible for Camden to know, that Don in the language of the Ossetes, a Caucassian tribe, means water ; and that in a country so remote as New Guinea, Dan has the same meaning. Our Doctor loved the river for its name's sake ; and the better because the river Dove falls into it. Don however, though not without some sacrifice of feeling, he was content to call it, in conformity to the established usage. A more satisfactory reason to him would have been that of pre- serving the identity of name with the Don of Aberdeenshire and of the Cossacks, and the relationship in etymology with the Don- au ; but that the original pronunciation, which was, as he deemed, perverted in that latter name, was found in Danube ; and that by calling his own river Don it ceased to be homonymous with that Dan which adds its waters and its name to the Jor. THE DOCTOR. 79 But the Yorkshire Don might be liked also for its own sake. Hear how its course is described in old prose and older verse ! " The River Don or Dun," says Dodsworth in his Yorkshire collections, " riseth in the upper part of Pennystone parish, near Lady's Cross (which may be called our Apennines, because the rain-water that falleth sheddeth ffom sea to sea) cometh to Birchworth, so to Pennystone, thence to Boleterstone by Medop, leaveth Wharncliffe Chase (stored with roebucks, which are decayed since the great frost) on the north (belonging to Sir Francis Wortley, where he hath great iron- works. The said Wharncliffe affordeth two hundred dozen of coal for ever to his said works. In this Chase he had red and fallow deer and roes), and leaveth Bethuns, a Chase and Tower of the Earl of Salop, on the south side. By Wortley to Waddsley, where in times past Everingham of Stainber had a park, now disparked ; thence to Sheffield, and washeth the castle wall ; keepeth its course to Attercliffe, wher.e is an iron forge of the Earl of Salop ; from thence to Winke- bank, Kymberworth and Eccles, where it entertaineth the Rother; cometh presently to Rothcrham, thence to Aldwark Hall, the Fitzwilliams' ancient possession ; then to Thriberg Park, the seat of Reresbyes Knights ; then to Mexborough, where hath been a Castle; then to Conisborough Park and Castle of the Earls of Warrens, where there is a place called Horsas Tomb ; from thence to Sprotebrough, the ancient seat of the famous family of Fitzwilliam, who have nourished since the Conquest ; thence by Newton to Donecastre, Wheatley, and Kirk Sandal, to Barnby-Dunn; byBramwith and Stninforth to Fishlake ; thence to Turnbrig, a port town serving indifferently for all the west parts, where he pays his tribute to the Ayre." Hear Michael Drayton next, who being as determined a personificator as Darwin himself, makes " the wide West Riding " thus address her favourite River Don : Tliou first of all my floods, whose banks do bound my south And offerest up thy stream to mighty Humber's mouth ; Of yew and climbing elm that crown'd with many a spray, From thy clear fountain first thro' many a. mead dost play, Till Rother, whence the name of Rotherham first begun, At that her christened town doth lose her in my Don ; Which proud of her recourse, towards Doncaster doth drive, Her great and chiefest town, the name that doth derive From Don's near bordering banks ; when holding on her race, She, dancing in and out, indenteth Hatfield Chase, Whose bravery hourly adds new honors to her bank: When Sherwood sends her in slow Iddle that, made rank With her profuse excess, she largely it bestows On Marshland, whose swoln womb with such abundance flows, As that her battening breast her fallings sooner feeds, And with more lavish waste than oft the grazier needs ; Whose soil, as some reports, that be her borderers, note, With water under earth undoubtedly doth float, For when the waters rise, it risen doth remain High, while the floods are high, and when they fall again, It falleth : but at last when as my lively Don Along by Marshland side her lusty course hath run, The little wandering Trent, won by the loud report Of the magnific state and height of Humber's court, Draws on to meet with Don, at her approach to Aire. Seldon's rich commentary does not extend to that part of the Polyolbion in which these lines occur, but a comment upon the sup- posed rising and falling of the Marshland with the waters is supplied by Camden. " The Don," he says, after it has passed Hatfield Chase, " divides itself, one stream running towards the river Idel, which comes out of Nottinghamshire, the other towards the river Aire ; in both which they continue till they meet again, and fall into the 2Estu- ary of Humber. Within the island, or that piece of ground encompassed by the branches of these two rivers, are Dikemarsh, and Marshland, fenny tracts, or rather river- islands, about fifteen miles round, which produce a very green rank grass, and are as it were set round with little villages. Some of the inhabitants imagine the whole island floats upon the water ; and that sometimes when the waters are increased 'tis raised higher ; just like what Pom ponius Mela tells us of the Isle of Autrum in Gaul." Upon this passage Bishop Gibson remarks, " As to what our author observes of the ground being heaved up, Dr. Johnston affirms he has spoke with several old men, who told him that the turf-moor between Thorne and Gowle was so much higher before the drain- ing, especially in winter time, than it is now, that before they could see little of the church 80 THE DOCTOR. steeple, whereas now they can see the church- yard wall." The poet might linger willingly with Ebe- nezer Elliott amid rock, vale and wood, Haunts of his early days, and still loved well, And where the tun, o'er purple moorlands wide, Gilds WharnclifTe's oaks, while Don is dark below ; And where the blackbird sings on Rot her's side, And where Time spares the age of Conisbro' ; but we must proceed with good matter-of- fact prose. The river has been made navigable to Tinsley, within three miles of Sheffield, and by this means Sheffield, Rotherham and Doncaster carry on a constant intercourse with Hull. A cut was made for draining that part of Hatfield Chase called the Levels, by an adventurous Hollander, Cdrnelius Vermuyden by name, in the beginning of Charles the First's reign. Some two hun- dred families of French and Walloon refu- gees were induced to colonise there at that time. They were forcibly interrupted in their peaceful and useful undertaking by the ignorant people of the country, who were instigated and even led on by certain of the neighbouring gentry, as ignorant as them- selves ; but the Government was then strong enough to protect them ; they brought about twenty -four thousand acres into cultivation, and many of their descendants are still set- tled upon the ground which was thus re- claimed. Into this new cut, which is at this day called the Dutch river, the Don was turned, its former course having been through Eastoft; but the navigation which has since proved so beneficial to the country, and toward which this was the first great measure, produced at first a plentiful crop of lawsuits, and one of the many pamphlets which this litigation called forth bears as an alias in its title, " the Devil upon Don." Many vestiges of former cultivation were discovered when this cut was made, such (according to Gibson's information) as gates, ladders, hammers, and shoes. The land was observed in some places to lie in ridges and furrows, as if it had been ploughed ; and oaks and fir trees were frequently dug up, some of which were found lying along, with their roots still fastened ; others, as if cut or burnt, and severed from the ground. Roots were long to be seen in the great cut, some very large and standing upright, others with an inclination toward the east. About the year 1665 the body of a man was found in a turf-pit, some four yards deep, lying with his head toward the north. The hair and nails were not decayed, and the skin was like tanned leather ; but it had lain so long there that the bones had become spongy. CHAPTER XXXIV. P. I. MOBAL INTEREST OF TOPOGRAPHICAL WORKS. IX)CAJ, ATTACHMENT. Let none our Author rudely blame Who from the story has thus long digrest ; But for his righteous pains may his fair fame For ever travel, whilst his ashes rest. SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT. READER, if thou carest little or nothing for the Yorkshire river Don and for the town of Doncaster, and for the circumstances connected with it, I am sorry for thee. My venerable friend the Doctor was of a dif- ferent disposition. He was one who loved, like Southey, uncontrolled, as in a dream To muse upon the course of human things ; Exploring sometimes the remotest springs, Far as tradition lends one guiding gleam ; Or following upon Thought's audacious wings Into Futurity the endless stream. He could not only find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing, but endeavoured to find all he could in them, and for that reason delighted to inquire into the history of places and of things, and to understand their past as well as their present state. The revolutions of a mansion house within his circuit were as interesting to him as those of the Mogul Empire ; ami he had as much satisfaction in being acquainted with the windings of a brook from its springs SlIAKESPEAKP. THE DOCTOR. 81 to the place where it fell into the Don, as he could have felt in knowing that the sources of the Nile had been explored, or the course and termination of the Niger. Hear, Reader, what a journalist says upon rivers in the newest and most approved style of critical and periodical eloquence ! He says, and he regarded himself no doubt with no small complacency while so saying, "An acquaintance with" Rivers "well deserves to be erected into a distinct science. We hail Potamology with a cordial greeting, and welcome it to our studies, parlours, schools, reading-rooms, lecture-rooms, me- chanics' institutes and universities. There is no end to the interest which Rivers excite. They may be considered physically, geogra- phically, historically, politically, commer- cially, mathematically, poetically, pictorially, morally, and even religiously in the world's anatomy they are its veins, as the primitive mountains, those mighty structures of granite, are its bones ; they minister to the fertility of the earth, the purity of the air, and the health of mankind. They mark out nature's kingdoms and provinces, and are the physical dividers and subdividers of continents. They welcome the bold dis- coverer into the heart of the country, to whose coast the sea has borne his adventur- ous bark. The richest freights have floated on their bosoms, and the bloodiest battles have been fought upon their banks. They move the wheels of cotton mills by their mechanical power, and madden the souls of poets and painters by their picturesque splendour. They make scenery and are scenery, and land yields no landscape with- out water. They are the best vehicle for the transit of the goods of the merchant, and for the illustration of the maxims of the moralist. The figure is so familiar, that we scarcely detect a metaphor when the stream of life and the course of time flow on into the ocean of Eternity." Hear, hear, oh hear! Udite Fiumi correnti, e rive, E voi fontant vive ! * * GIUSTO DE' CONTB. Yet the person who wrote this was neither deficient in feeling, nor in power ; it is the epidemic vice prevailing in an age of jour- nals that has infected him. They who frame their style ad captandum fall into this vein, and as immediate effect is their object they are wise in their generation. The public to which they address themselves are attracted by it, as flies swarm about treacle. We are advanced from the Age of Reason to the Age of Intellect, and this is the current eloquence of that age ! let us get into an atmosphere of common sense. Topographical pursuits, my Doctor used to say, tend to preserve and promote the civilisation of which they are a consequence and a proof. They have always prospered in prosperous countries, and nourished most in flourishing times, when there have been persons enough of opulence to encourage such studies, and of leisure to engage in them. Italy and the Low Countries therefore took the lead in this branch of literature ; the Spa- niards and Portuguese cultivated it in their better days ; and beginning among ourselves with Henry VIII. it has been continued with increasing zeal down to the present time. Whatever strengthens our local attach- ments is favourable both to individual and national character. Our home, our birth place, our native land, think for awhile what the virtues are which arise out of the feelings connected with these words ; and if thou hast any intellectual eyes thou wilt then perceive the connection between topography and patriotism. Show me a man who cares no more for one place than another, and I will show you in that same person one who loves nothing but himself. Beware of those who are homeless by choice ! You have no hold on a human being whose affections are without a tap-root. The laws recognise this truth in the privileges which they confer upon freeholders ; and public opinion acknow- ledges it also, in the confidence which it re- poses upon those who have, what is called a stake in the country. Vagabond and rogue are convertible terms ; and with how much propriety any one may understand who 82 THE DOCTOR. knows what are the habits of the wandering classes, such as gypsies, tinkers, and potters. The feeling of local attachment was pos- sessed by Daniel Dove in the highest degree. Spurzheim and the crazyologists would have found out a bump on his head for its local habitation ; letting that quackery pass, it is enough for me to know that he derived this feeling from his birth as a mountaineer, and that he had also a right to it by inheritance, as one whose ancestors had from time immemorial dwelt upon the same estate. Smile not contemptuously at that word, ye whose domains extend over more square miles than there were square roods upon his patrimony ! To have held that little patrimony unimpaired, as well as unenlarged, through so many generations, implies more contentment, more happiness, and a more uniform course of steadiness and good conduct, than could be found in the proudest of your genealogies ! The most sacred spot upon earth to him was his father's hearth-stead. Rhine, Rhone, Danube, Thames or Tyber, the mighty Ganges or the mightier Maranon, even Jordan itself, affected his imagination less than the Greta, or Wease as he was wont to call it, of bis native fields ; whose sounds in his boyhood were the first which he heard at morning and the last at night, and during so many peaceful and happy years made as it were an accompaniment to his solitary mu- sings, as he walked between his father's house and his schoolmaster's, to and fro. Next to that wild river Wease whose visible course was as delightful to the eye and ear, as its subterranean one was to the imagination, he loved the Don. He was not one of those refined persons who like to lessen their admiration of one object by comparing it with another. It entered as little into his mind to depreciate the Don because it was not a mountain stream, as it did into Corporal Trim's or Uncle Toby's to think the worse of Bohemia because it has no sea coast. What if it had no falls, no rapids or resting-places, no basins whose pellucid water might tempt Diana and tlie Oreades to bathe in it ; instead of these the Don had beauties of its own, and utilities which give to such beauties when combined with them an additional charm. There was not a more pleasing object in the landscape to his eyes than the broad sail of a barge slowly moving between the trees, and bear- ing into the interior of England the proauce of the Baltic, and of the East and West. The place in the world which he loved best was Ingleton, because in that little peaceful village, as in his childhood it was, he had once known every body and every body had known him ; and all his recollec- tions of it were pleasurable, till time cast over them a softening but a pensive hue. But next to Ingleton he loved Doncaster. And wherefore did he thus like Don- caster ? For a better reason than the epigrammatist could give for not liking Dr. Fell, though perhaps many persons have no better than that epigrammatist had in tiiis case, for most of their likings and dislikings. He liked it because he must have been a very unreasonable man if he had not been thankful that his lot had fallen there be- cause he was useful and respected there, contented, prosperous, happy; finally lie- cause it is a very likeable place, being one of the most comfortable towns in England : for it is clean, spacious, in a salubrious situation, well-built, well-governed, has no manufactures, few poor, a greater propor- tion of inhabitants who are not engaged in any trade or calling, than perhaps any other town in the kingdom, and moreover it sends no members to parliament. INTERCHAPTER in. THE AUTHOR QUESTIONS THE PROPRIETY OF PERSONIFYING CIRCUMSTANCE. DENIES THE UNITY AND INDIVISIBILITY OF THE PUBLIC, AND MAY EVEN BE SUSPECTED OF DOUBT- ING ITS OMNISCIENCE AND ITS INFALLI- BILITY. Haforse Testa la plcbe, ove si cfiiuda in rece Di senno, altro che nebbia ? o forma voce Chi sla piit saggia, che un belit d'armento ? CHIABRERA. " WHAT a kind of Being is circumstance ! M TIIE DOCTOR. 83 says Horace Wai pole in his atrocious tragedy of the Mysterious Mother. A very odd kind of Being indeed. In the course of my reading I remember but three Beings equally remarkable, as personified in prose and verse. Social-Tie was one ; Catastrophe another ; and Inoculation, heavenly Maid ! the third. But of all ideal Beings the most extra- ordinary is that which we call the Public. The Public and Transubstantiation I hold to be the two greatest mysteries in or out of nature. And there are certain points of resemblance between them. For as the Priest creates the one mystery, so the author, or other appellant to the said Public, creates the other, and both bow down in worship, real or simulated, before the Idol of their own creation. And as every fragment of the wafer, break it into as many as you may, contains in itself the whole entire mystery of transubstantiation, just in the same manner every fractional part of the Public assumes to itself the powers, privileges and preroga- tives of the whole, as virtually, potentially and indefeasably its own. Nay, every in- dividual who deems himself a constituent member of the said Public arrogates them also, and when he professes to be acting pro bono publico, the words mean with him all the good he can possibly get for himself. The old and famous illustration of Hermes may be in part applied to the Public ; it is a circle of which the centre is every where : in part I say, for its circumference is de- fined. It is bounded by language, and has many intercircles. It is indeed a confused multiciplity of circles intersecting each other, perpetually in motion and in change. Every man is the centre of some circle, and yet involved in others ; he who is not some- times made giddy by their movements, has a strong head ; and he who is not sometimes thrown off his balance by them, stands well upon his legs. Again, the Public is like a nest of patent coffins packed for exportation, one within another. There are Publics of all sizes, from the genus generalissimum, the great general universal Public, whom London is not large enough to hold, to the species specialissima, the little Thinking Public, which may find room in a nutshell. There is the fashionable Public, and the Religious Public, and the Play-going Public, and the Sporting Public, and the Commercial Public, and the Literary Public, and the Reading Public, and heaven knows how many Publics more. They call themselves Worlds sometimes, as if a certain number of worldlings made a World ! He who pays his homage to any or all of these Publics, is a Publican and a Sinner. " Nunquam valui populo p'acere ; nam qiue ego scio non probat populus ; qiue prubat pjpulus, ego nescio." * " Bene et ille,<]uisquisfnit, (ambigitur enim deauctore.) cum qiuereretur ab illo, quo tttnta diligentia artis spec- taret ad paucissimos pervenlura:? Satis sunt, inquit, mihi pauci ; satis est unus ; satis est nitllus." * CHAPTER XXXV. P. I. DONCASTRIANA. POTTERIC CARR. SOMETHING CONCERNING THE MEANS OF EMPLOYING THE POOR, AND BETTERING THEIR CON- DITION. Why should I sowen draf out of my fist, When 1 may sowen wheat, if that me list ? CHAUCER. DONCASTER is built upon a peninsula, or ridge of land, about a mile across, having a gentle slope from east to west, and bounded on the west by the river ; this ridge is com- posed of three strata, to wit, of the allu- vial soil deposited by the river in former ages, and of limestone on the north and west ; and of sandstone to the south and east. To the south of this neck of land lies a tract called Potteric Carr, which is much below the level of the river, and was a morass, or range of fens, when our Doctor first took up his abode in Doncaster. This tract ex- tends about four miles in length and nearly three in breadth, and the security which it afforded against an attack on that side, while the river protected the peninsula by its * SENECA, 2, 79. SI4 THE DOCTOR. semicircular bend on the other, was evi- dently one reason why the Romans fixed upon the site of Doncaster for a station. In Brockett's Glossary of North-Country words, Carr is interpreted to mean "flat marshy land ; a pool or lake ; " but the etymology of the word is yet to be discovered. These fens were drained and enclosed pursuant to an act of Parliament which was obtained for that purpose in the year 1766. Three principal drains were then cut, four- teen feet wide, and about four miles long, into which the water was conducted from every part of the Carr, southward, to the little river Torne, at Rossington Bridge, whence it flows into the Trent. Before these drainings the ground was liable to frequent inundations, and about the centre there was a decoy for wild ducks : there is still a deep water there of considerable extent, in which very large pike and eels are found. The soil, which was so boggy at first that horses were lost when attempting to drink at the drains, has been brought into good cultiva- tion (as all such ground may be) to the great improvement of the district ; for till this improvement was effected intermittent fevers and sore throats were prevalent there, and they have ceased from the time that the land was drained. The most unhealthy season now is the Spring, when cold winds from the North and North East usually prevail during some six weeks ; at other times Doncaster is considered to be a healthy place. It has been observed that when en- demic diseases arrive there, they uniformly come from the south ; and that the state of the weather may be foretold from a know- ledge of what it has been at a given time in London, making an allowance of about three days, for the chance of winds. Here, as in all places which lie upon a great and frequented road, the transmission of diseases has been greatly facilitated by the increase of travelling. But before we leave Potteric Carr, let us try, reader, whether we cannot improve it in another way, that is, in the dissenting and so-called evangelical sense of the word, in which sense the battle of Trafalgar was im- proved, in a sermon by the Reverend John Evans. Gentle Reader, let you and I in like manner endeavour to improve this en- closure of the Carr. Four thousand acres of bog whereof that Carr consisted, and upon which common sand, coal ashes, and the scrapings of a lime- stone road were found the best manure, produce now good crops of grain, and ex- cellent pasturage. There are said to be in England and Wales at this time 3,984,000 acres of uncul- tivated but cultivable ground ; 5,950,000 in Scotland; 4,900,000 in Ireland; 166,000 in the smaller British Islands. Crags, woods, and barren land are not included in this statement. Here are 15,000,000 acres, the worst of which is as good as the morass which has been reclaimed near Doncaster, and the far greater part very materially better. I address myself now to any one of my readers who pays poor rates ; but more especially to him who has any part in the disposal of those rates ; and most especially to a clergyman, a magistrate, and a mem- ber of Parliament. The money which is annually raised for poor-rates in England and Wales has for some years amounted to from five to six millions. With all this expenditure cases are con- tinually occurring of death from starvation, either of hunger or cold, or both together ; wretches are carried before the magistrates for the offence of lying in the streets or in unfinished houses, when they have not where to hide their heads ; others have been found dead by the side of limekilns, or bi-ickkilns, whither they had crept to save themselves from perishing for cold ; and untold num- bers die of the diseases produced by scanty and unwholesome food. This money, moreover, is for the most part so applied, that they who have a right- ful claim upon it, receive less than injustice, in humanity, and according to the intent of a law wisely and humanely enacted, ought to be their portion ; while they who have only a legal claim upon it, that claim arising from an evil usage which has become pre- THE DOCTOR. srriptive, receive pay, where justice, policy, and considerate humanity, and these Tery aws "themselves, if rightly administered, would award restraint or punishment. Thus it is in those parts of the United Kingdom, where a provision for the poor is directly raised by law. In Scotland the pio- x>rtion of paupers is little less, and the evils attendant upon poverty are felt in an equal or nearly equal degree. In Ireland they exist to a far greater extent, and may truly be called terrible. Is it fitting that this should be while there are fifteen millions of cultivable acres lying waste ? Is it possible to conceive grosser im- providence in a nation, grosser folly, grosser norance of its duty and interest, or grosser neglect of both, than are manifested in the continuance and growth and increase of this enormous evil, when the means of checking it are so obvious, and that too by a process in which every step must produce direct and tangible good ? But while the Government is doing those things which it ought not to have done, and leaves undone those which it ought to do, let Parishes and Corporations do what is in their power for themselves. m And bestir yourselves in this good work, ye who can ! The supineness of the Government is no ex- cuse for you. It is in the exertions of indi- viduals that all national reformation must begin. Go to work cautiously, experiment- ally, patiently, charitably, and in faith ! I am neither so enthusiastic as to suppose, nor so rash as to assert, that a cure may thus be found for the complicated evils arising from the condition of the labouring classes. But it is one of those remedial means by which much misery may be re- lieved, and much of that profligacy that arises from hopeless wretchedness be pre- vented. It is one of those means from which present relief may be obtained, and future good expected. It is the readiest way in which useful employment can be provided for the industrious poor. And if the land so appropriated should produce nothing more than is required for the support of those employed in cultivating it, and who must otherwise be partly or wholly supported by the poor-rates, such cultivation would, even then, be profitable to the public. Wherever there is heath, moor or fen, which there is in every part of the Island, there is work for the spade ; employment and subsistence for man is to be found there, and room for him to encrease and multiply for generations. Reader, if you doubt that bog and bad land may be profitably cultivated, go and look at Potteric Carr, (the members of both Houses who attend Doncaster Races, may spare an hour for this at the next meeting). If you desire to know in what manner the poor who are now helpless may be settled upon such land, so as immediately to earn their own maintenance, and in a short time to repay the first cost of their establishment, read the account of the Pauper Colonies in Holland ; for there the experiment has been tried, and we have the benefit of their experience. As for the whole race of Political Econo- mists, our Malthusites, Benthamites, Utili- tarians or Futilitarians, they are to the Government of this Country such counsellors as the magicians were to Pharaoh ; whosoever listens to them has his heart hardened. But they are no conjurors. CHAPTER XXXVI. P. I. REMARKS ON AN OPINION OF MR. CHABBB's. TOPOGRAPHICAL POETRY. DKATTON. Do, pious marble, let thy readers know What they and what their children owe To Drayton's name, whose sacred dust We recommend unto thy trust. Protect his memory, and preserve his story ; Remain a lasting monument of his glory ; And when thy ruins shall disclaim To be the Treasurer of his name, His name that cannot fade, shall be An everlasting monument to thee. EPITAPH IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. THE Poet Crabbe has said that there subsists an utter repugnancy between the studies of topography and poetry. He must have intended by topography, when he said so, 8(3 THE DOCTOR. the mere definition of boundaries and speci- fication of land-marks, such as are given in the advertisement of an estate for sale ; and boys in certain parts of the country are taught to bear in mind by a remembrance in tail when the bounds of a parish are walked by the local authorities. Such topography indeed bears as little relation to poetry as a map or chart to a picture. But if he had any wider meaning, it is evident, by the number of topographical poems, good, bad and indifferent, with which our language abounds, that Mr. Crabbe's predecessors in verse, and his con- temporaries also, have differed greatly from him in opinion upon this point. The Poly- olbion, notwithstanding its common-place personifications and its inartificial transitions, which are as abrupt as those in the Meta- morphoses and the Fasti, and not so graceful, is nevertheless a work as much to be valued by the students and lovers of English litera- ture, as by the writers of local history. Dray ton himself, whose great talents were deservedly esteemed by the ablest of his contemporaries in the richest age of English poetry, thought he could not be more worthily employed than in what he calls the Herculean task of this topographical poem ; and in that belief he was encouraged by his friend and commentator Selden, to whose name the epithet of learned was in old times always and deservedly affixed. With how becoming a sense of its dignity and variety the Poet entered upon his subject, these lines may shew : Thou powerful God of flames, in verse divinely great, Touch my invention so with thy true genuine heat, That high and noble things I slightly may not tell, Nor light and idle toys my lines may vainly swell ; But as my subject serves so high or low to strain, And to the varying earth so suit my varying strain, That Nature in my work thou mayest thy power avow ; That as thou first found'st art, and didst her rules allow, So T, to thine own self that gladly near would be, May herein do the best in imitating thee. As thou hast here a hill, a vale there, there a flood, A mead here, there a heath, and now and then a wood. These things so in my song I naturally may show Now as the mountain high, then as the valley low ; Here fruitful as the mead ; there as the heath be bare, Then as the gloomy wood I may be rough, tho' rare. I would not say of this Poet, as Kirkpatrick gays of him, that when he his Albion sung With their own praise the echoing vallies rung; His bounding Muse o'er every mountain rode, And every river warbled where he flowed ; but I may say that if instead of sending his Muse to ride over the mountains, and resting contented with her report, he had ridden or walked over them himself, his poem would better have deserved that praise for accuracy which has been bestowed upon it by critics who had themselves no know- ledge which could enable them to say whether it were accurate or not. Camden was more diligent; he visited some of the remotest counties of which he wrote. This is not said with any intention of detracting from Michael Drayton's fame : the most elaborate criticism could neither raise him above the station which he holds in English literature, nor degrade him from it. He is extolled not beyond the just measure of his deserts in his epitaph, which has been variously ascribed to Ben Jonson, to Randolph, and to Quarles, but with most probability to "the former, who knew and admired and loved him. He was a poet by nature, and carefully improved his talent ; one who sedulously laboured to deserve the approbation of such as were capable of appreciating, and cared nothing for the censures which others might pass upon him. " Like me that list," he says, my honest rhymes, Nor care for critics, nor regard the times. And though he is not a poet virum volitare per ora, nor one of those whose better fortune it is to live in the hearts of their devoted admirers, yet what he deemed his greatest work will be preserved by its subject ; some of his minor poems have merit enough in their execution to ensure their preservation, and no one who studies poetry as an art will think his time mis-spent in perusing the whole, if he have any real love for the art which he is pursuing. The youth who enters upon that pursuit without a feeling of respect and gratitude for those elder poets, who by their labours have pre- pared the way for him, is not likely to THE DOCTOR. 87 produce any thing himself that will be held in remembrance by posterity. CHAPTER XXXVII. P. I. ANECDOTES OF PETER HEYLYN AND LIGHT- FOOT, EXEMPLIFYING THAT GREAT KNOW- LEDGE IS NOT ALWAYS APPLICABLE TO LITTLE THINGS : AND THAT AS CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME, SO IT MAY WITH EQUAL TRUTH SOMKTIMKS BE SAID THAT KNOW- LEDGE ENDS THERE. A scholar in his study knows the stars, Their motion and their influence, which are fix'd, And which are wandering ; can decypher seas, And give each several land his proper bounds : But set him to the compass, he's to seek, Where a plain pilot can direct his course From hence unto both the Indies, HEYWOOD. THERE was a Poet who wrote a descriptive poem, and then took a journey to see the scenes which he had described. Better late then never, he thought; and thought wisely in so thinking. Dray ton was not likely to have acted thus upon after consideration, if in the first conception of his subject he did not feel sufficient ardour for such an under- taking. It would have required indeed a spirit of enterprise as unusual in those days as it is ordinary now. Many a long day's ride must he have taken over rough roads, and in wild countries ; and many a weary step would it have cost him, and many a poor lodging must he have put up with at night, where he would have found poor fare, if not cold comfort. So he thought it enough, in many if not most parts, to travel by the map, and believed himself to have been sufficiently " punctual and exact in giving unto every province its peculiar bounds, in laying out their several land- marks, tracing the course of most of the principal rivers, and setting forth the situa- tion and estate of the chiefest towns." Peter Heylyn, who speaks thus of his own exactness in a work partaking enough of the same nature as the Poly-olbion to be remembered here, though it be in prose and upon a wider subject, tells a humorous anecdote of himself, in the preface to his Cosmography. " He that shall think this work imperfect, " says he, " (though I confess it to be nothing but imperfections) for some deficiencies of this kind, may be likened to the country fellow, (in Aristo- phanes, if my memory fail not), who picked a great quarrel with the map because he could not find where his own farm stood. And such a country customer I did meet with once, a servant of my elder brother, sent by him with some horses to Oxford, to bring me and a friend of mine unto his house ; who having lost his way as we passed through the forest of Whichwood, and not being able to recover any beaten track, did very earnestly entreat me to lead the way, till I had brought him past the woods to the open fields. Which when I had refused to do, as I had good reason, alledging that I had never been there before, and therefore that I could not tell which way to lead him ; ' that's strange ! ' said he ; ' I have heard my old master, your father, say that you made a book of all the world ; and cannot you find your way out of the wood ?'" Peter Heylyn was one who fell on evil times, and on whom, in consequence, evil tongues have fallen. But he was an able, honest, brave man, who " stood to his tackling when he was tasted." And if thou hast not read his Survey of the State of France, Reader, thou hast not read one of our liveliest books of travels in its lighter parts ; and one of the wisest and most replete with information that ever was written by a young man. His more learned contemporary Lightfoot, who steered a safer but not so straight a course, met with an adventure not unlike that of Heylyn's in the forest ; but the ap- plication which in the cosmographist's case was ridiculously made by an ignorant and simple man, was in this instance self-ori- ginated. Lightfoot had promised to set forth as an accompaniment to his Harmony of the Evangelists, " A chorographical description of the land of Canaan, and those adjoining places, that we have occasion to look upon 88 THE DOCTOR. as we read the Gospels ." " I went on in that work," he says, " a good while, and that with much cheerfulness and content ! for methought a Talmudical survey and history of the land of Canaan, (not omitting collec- tions to be taken up out of the Scripture, and other writers,) as it would be new and rare, so it might not prove unwelcome nor unprofitable to those that delighted in such a subject." It cost him as much pains to give the description as it would have done to travel thither ; but says one of his Edi- tors, " the unhappy chance that hindered the publishing this elaborate piece of his, which he had brought to pretty good perfection, was the edition of Doctor Fuller's Pisgah Sight ; great pity it was that so good a book should have done so much harm ; for that book, handling the same matters and pre- venting his, stopped his resolution of letting his labours on that subject see the light. Though he went a way altogether different from Dr. Fuller ; and so both might have shown their face together in the world ; and the younger sister, if we may make com- parisons, might have proved the fairer of the two." It is pleasant to see how liberally and equitably both Lightfoot and Fuller speak upon this matter ; " But at last, says the former, I understood that another workman, a far better artist than myself, had the de- scription of the Land of Israel, not only in hand, but even in the press ; and was so far got before me in that travel that he was almost at his journey's end, when I was but little more than setting out. It was grievous to me to have lost my labour, if I should now sit down ; and yet I thought it wisdom not to lose more in proceeding farther, when one on the same subject, and of far more abilities in it, had got the start so far before me. " And although I supposed, and at last was assured, even by that Author himself (my very learned and worthy friend) that we should not thrust nor hinder one another any whit at all, though we both went at once in the perambulation of that land, because he had not meddled with that Rab- binic way that I had gone ; yet, when I considered what it was to glean after so clean a reaper, and how rough a Talmudical pencil would seem after so fine a pen, I resolved to sit down, and to stir no more in that matter, till time and occasion did show me more encouragement thereunto, than as yet I saw. And thus was my promise fallen to the ground, not by any carelessness or forget- fulness of mine, but by the happy preven- tion of another hand, by whom the work is likely to be better done. Yet was I unwil- ling to suffer my word utterly to come to nothing at all, though I might evade my promise by this fair excuse : but I was desirous to pay the reader something in pursuance of it, though it were not in this very same coin, nor the very same sum, that I had undertaken. Hereupon I turned my thoughts and my endeavours to a description of the Temple after the same manner, and from the same authors, that I had intended to have described the Land ; and that the rather, not only that I might do some thing towards making good my promise ; but also, that by a trial in a work of this nature of a lesser bulk, I might take some pattern and assay how the other, which would prove of a far larger pains and volume, would be accepted, if I should again venture upon it." Lightfoot was sincere in the commenda- tion which he bestowed upon Fuller's dili- gence, and his felicitous way of writing. And Fuller on his part rendered justice in the same spirit to Lightfoot's well known and peculiar erudition. " Far be it from me," he says, " that our pens should fall out, like the herdsmen of Lot and Abraham, the land not being able to bear them both, that they might dwell together. No such want of room in this subject, being of such latitude and receipt, that both we and hun- dreds more, busied together therein, may severally lose ourselves in a subject of such capacity. The rather, because we embrace several courses in this our description ; it being my desire and delight, to stick only to the written word of God, whilst my worthy friend takes in the choicest Rabbi- nical and Talmudical relations, being so THE DOCTOR. 89 well seen iu these studies, that it is ques- tionable whether his skill or my ignorance be the greater therein." Now then (for now and then go thus lovingly together, in familiar English) after these preliminaries, the learned Light- foot, who at seven years of age, it is said, could not only read fluently the biblical Hebrew, but readily converse in it, may tell his own story. " Here by the way," he says, " I cannot but mention, and I think I can never for- get, a handsome and deserved check that mine own heart, meeting with a special occasion, did give me, upon the laying down of the other task, and the undertaking of this, for my daring to enter either upon the one or the other. That very day wherein I first set pen to paper to draw up the de- scription of the Temple, having but imme- diately before laid aside my thoughts of the description of the Land, I was necessarily called out, towards the evening, to go to view a piece of ground of mine own, con- cerning which some litigiousness was emerg- ing, and about to grow. The field was but a mile from my constant residence and habi- tation, and it had been in mine owning divers years together ; and yet till that very time, had I never seen it, nor looked after it, nor so much as knew whereabout it lay. It was very unlikely I should find it out myself, being so utterly ignorant of its situa- tion ; yet because I desired to walk alone, for the enjoying of my thoughts upon that task that I had newly taken in hand, I took some direction which way to go, and would venture to find out the field myself alone. I had not gone far, but I was at a loss ; and whether I went right or wrong I could not tell ; and if right thither, yet I knew not how to do so farther ; and if wrong, I knew not which way would prove the right, and so in seeking my ground I had lost myself. Here my heart could not but take me to task ; and, reflecting upon what my studies were then, and had lately been upon, it could not but call me fool ; and methought it spake as true to me, as ever it had done in all my life, but only when it called me sinner. A fool that was so studious, and had been so searching about things remote, and that so little concerned my interest, and yet was so neglective of what was near me, both in place, and in my particular concernment ! And a fool again, who went about to de- scribe to others, places and buildings that lay so many hundred miles off, as from hence to Canaan, and under so many hundred years' ruins, and yet was not able to know, or find the way to a field of mine own, that lay so near me ! " I could not but acknowledge this re- proof to be both seasonable, and seasoned both with truth and reason ; and it so far prevailed with me, that it not only put me upon a resolution to lay by that work that I had newly taken in hand that morning, but also to be wiser in my bookishness for the time to come, than for it, and through it, to neglect and sink my estate as I had done. And yet within a little time after, I know not how, I was fallen to the same studies and studiousness again, had got my laid-up task into my hands again before I was aware, and was come to a determination to go on in that work, because I had my notes and collections ready by me as materials for it ; and when that was done, then to think of the advice that my heart had given me, and to look to mine own business. " So I drew up the description of the Temple itself, and with it the History of the Temple-service." Lightfoot's heart was wise when it ad- monished him of humility ; but it was full of deceit when it read him a lesson of worldly wisdom, for which his conscience and his better mind would have said to him " Thou Fool ! " if he had followed it. 90 THE DOCTOR. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE HEADER IS LED TO INFER THAT A TRAVELLER WHO STOPS UPON THE WAT TO SKETCH, BOTANISE, ENTOMOLOGISE, OR MINEEALOGISE, TRAVELS WITH MORE PLEASURE AND PROFIT TO HIMSELF THAN IF HE WERE IN THE MAIL COACH. Non sert'fo materite sed indulgeo ; quant quo rivcit se- quendum est, nan quo invitat. SENECA. FEAR not, my patient reader, that I should lose myself and bewilder you, either in the Holy land, or Whichwood forest, or in the wide fields of the Poly-olbion, or in Potteric Carr, or in any part of the country about Doncaster, most fortunate of English towns for circumstances which I have already stated and henceforth to be the most illus- trious, as having been the place where my never-to-be-forgotten Philosopher and friend passed the greater part of his inno- cent and useful and happy life. Good patient reader, you may confide in me as in one who always knows his whereabout, and whom the Goddess Upibilia will keep in the right way. In treating of that flourishing and every way fortunate town, I have not gone back to visionary times, like the author who wrote a description and drew a map of Angle- sea as it was before the flood. Nor have I touched upon the ages when hyenas prowled over what is now Doncaster race-ground, and great lizards, huge as crocodiles, but with long necks and short tails, took their pleasure in Potteric Carr. I have not called upon thee, gentle and obse- quious reader, to accompany me into a Pra;adamite world, nor even into the ante- diluvian one. We began with the earliest mention of Doncaster no earlier; and shall carry our summary notices of its his- tory to the Doctor's time, no later. And if sometimes the facts on which I may touch should call forth thoughts, and those thoughts remind me of other facts, anecdotes lead- ing to reflection, and reflection producing more anecdotes, thy pleasure will be con- sulted in all this, my good and patient reader, and thy profit also as much as mine ; nay, more in truth, for I might think upon all these things in silence, and spare myself the trouble of relating them. O Reader, had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader, you would find A Tale in every thing ! * I might muse upon these things and let the hours pass by unheeded as the waters of a river in their endless course. And thus I might live in other years, with those who are departed, in a world of my own, by force of recollection ; or by virtue of sure hope in that world which is their' s now, and to which I shall, ere long, be promoted. For thy pleasure, Reader, and for thy improvement, I take upon myself the pains of thus materialising my spiritual stores. Alas ! their earthly uses would perish with me unless they were thus embodied ! " The age of a cultivated mind," says an eloquent and wise and thoughtful author, " is often more complacent and even more luxurious, than the youth. It is the reward of the due use of the endowments bestowed by nature : while they who in youth have made no provision for age, are left like an unsheltered tree, stripped of its leaves and its branches, shaking and withering before the cold blasts of winter. " In truth, nothing is so happy to itself, and so attractive to others, as a genuine and ripened imagination, that knows its own powers, and throws forth its treasures with frankness and fearlessness. The more it produces, the more capable it becomes of production ; the creative faculty grows by indulgence ; and the more it combines, the more means and varieties of combinations it discovers. " When death comes to destroy that mys- terious and magical union of capacities and acquirements which has brought a noble genius to this point of power, how frightful and lamentable is the effect of the stroke that stops the current which was wont to WORDSWORTH. THE DOCTOR. p:ir this mighty formation into activity! Perhaps the incomprehensible Spirit may have acted in conjunction with its corporeal adherents to the last. Then in one moment, what darkness and destruction follows a sirgle gasp of breath ! " * This fine passage is as consolatory in its former part, as it is gloomy at the con- clusion ; and it is gloomy there, because the view which is there taken is imperfect. Our thoughts, our reminiscences, our intellectual acquirements, die with us to this world, but to this world only. If they are what they ought to be, they are treasures which we lay up for Heaven. That which is of the earth, earthy, perishes with wealth, rank, honours, authority, and other earthly and perishable things ; but nothing that is worth retaining can be lost. When Ovid says, in Ben Jonson's play, We pour out our affections with our blood, And with our blood's affections fade our loves, the dramatist makes the Roman Poet speak like a sensualist, as he was, and the philo- sophy is as false as it is foul. Affections well placed and dutifully cherished ; friend- ships happily formed and faithfully main- tained; knowledge acquired with worthy intent, and intellectual powers that have been diligently improved as the talents which our Lord and Master has committed to our keeping : these will accompany us into ano- ther state of existence, as surely as the soul in that state retains its identity and its consciousness. INTERCHAPTER IV. ETYMOLOGICAL DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE REMAINS OF VARIOUS TRIBES OR FAMILIES MENTIONED IN SCRIPTURAL HISTORY. All things are big with jest ; nothing that's plain But may be witty if thou hast the vein. HERBERT. THAT the lost Ten Tribes of Israel may be found in London, is a discovery which any * SIR EGERTON BRYDGES. person may suppose he has made, when he walks for the first time from the city to Wapping. That the tribes of Judah and Benjamin flourish there is known to all mankind ; and from them have sprung the Scripites, and the Omniumites, and the Threepercentites. But it is not so well known that many other tribes noticed in the Old Testament are to be found in this Island of Great Britain. There are the Hittites, who excel in one branch of gymnastics. And there are the Amorites, who are to be found in town and country ; and there are the Gadites, who frequent watering places, and take pictur- esque tours. Among the Gadites I shall have some of my best readers, who, being in good humour with themselves and with every thing else, except on a rainy day, will even then be in good humour with me. There will be Amorites in their company ; and among the Amorites, too, there will be some, who, in the overflowing of their love, will have some liking to spare for the Doctor and his faith- ful memorialist. The Poets, those especially who deal in erotics, lyrics, sentimentals or sonnets, are the Ah-oh-ites. The gentlemen who speculate in chapels are the Puh-ites. The chief seat of the Simeonites is at Cambridge ; but they are spread over the land. So are the Man-ass-ites, of whom the finest specimens are to be seen in St. James's- Street, at the fashionable time of day for exhibiting the dress and the person upon the pavement. The free-masons are of the family of the Jachinites. The female Haggites are to be seen in low life wheeling barrows, and in high life seated at card tables. The Shuhamites are the cordwainers. The Teamanites attend the sales of the East India Company. Sir James Mackintosh, and Sir James Scarlett, and Sir James Graham, belong to the Jim-nites. Who are the Gazathites if the people of 92 THE DOCTOil. London are not, where any thing is to be seen ? All of them are Gettites when they can, all would be Havites if they could. The journalists should be Geshurites, if they answered to their profession : instead of this they generally turn out to be Geshu- wrongs. There are, however, three Tribes in Eng- land, not named in the Old Testament, who considerably outnumber all the rest. These are the High Vulgarites, who are the chil- dren of Rahank and Phashan; the Mid- dle Vulgarites, who are the children of Mammon and Terade, and the Low Vul- garites, who are the children of Tahag, Rahag, and Bohobtay-il. With the Low Vulgarites I have no con- cern, but with the other two tribes, much. Well it is that some of those who are fruges consumers nati, think it proper that they should consume books also : if they did not, what a miserable creature wouldst thou be, Henry Colburn, who art their Bookseller ! I myself have that kind of respect for the consumers which we ought to feel for every thing useful. If not the salt of the earth they are its manure, without which it could not produce so abundantly. CHAPTER XXXIX. A CHAPTER FOR THE INFORMATION OF THOSE WHO MAY VISIT DONCASTER, AND ESPE- CIALLY OF THOSE WHO FREQUENT THE RACES THERE. My good Lord, there is a Corporation, A body, a kind of body. MlDDLETON. WELL, reader, I have told thee something concerning the topography of Doncaster : and now in due order, and as in duty bound, will I give thee a sketch of its history; " summa sequarfastigia rerum" with becom- ing brevity, according to my custom, and in conformity with the design of this book. The Nobility and Gentry who attend the races there, will find it very agreeable to be well acquainted with every thing relating to the place ; and I particularly invite their attention to that part of the present chapter which concerns the Doncaster charters, be- cause as a wise and ancient author hath said, turpe est homini nolili ejus civitatis in qua versetur, jus ignorare, which may be thus applied, that every gentleman who frequents Doncaster races ought to know the form and history of its corporation. In Edward the Confessor's reign, the soccage part of Doncaster and of some ad- joining townships was under the manor of Hexthorp, though in the topsy-turveying course of time Hexthorp has become part of the soke of Doncaster. Earl Tostig was the Lord of that manor, one of Earl Godwin's sons, and one who holds, like his father, no honourable place in the records of those times, but who in the last scene of his life displayed a heroism that may well redeem his name. The manor being two miles and a half long, and one and a half broad, was valued at eighteen pounds yearly rent ; but when Doomsday book was compiled that rent had decreased one third. It had then been given by the Conqueror to his half-brother Robert Earl of Montaigne in Normandy, and of Cornwall in England. The said Earl was a lay-pluralist of the first magnitude, and had no fewer than seven hundred and fifty manors bestowed upon him as his allot- ment of the conquered kingdom. He granted the lordship and soke of Doncaster with many other possessions to Nigel de Fossard, which Nigel is believed to have been the Saxon noble who at the time of the conquest held these same possessions under the crown. The Fossard family ended in an heiress in Cceur-de-Lion's reign; and the only daughter of that heiress was given in marriage by John Lackland to Peter de Malolieu or Maulay, as a reward for his part in the murder of Prince Arthur. Peter de Maulay bore, as such a service richly deserved, an ill name in the nation, being moreover a favourite of King John's, and believed to be one of his evil counsellors as well as of his wicked instruments : but the name was in good odour with his descendants, and was borne accordingly by eight Peters in succes- THE DOCTOR. 93 sion. The eighth had no male issue ; he left two daughters, and daughters are said by Fuller to be " silent strings, sending no sound to posterity, but losing their own sur- names in their matches." Ralph Salvayne or Salvin, a descendant of the younger co- heiress, in the reign of James I., claimed the Lordship of Doncaster ; and William his son after a long suit with the Corporation, re- signed his claim for a large sum of money. The Burgesses had obtained their Charter from Richard I., in the fifth year of his reign, that king confirming to them their Soke, and Town or Village of Danecastre, to hold of him and his heirs, by the ancient rent, and over and above that rent, by an annual payment at the same time of twenty- five marks of silver. For this grant the Burgesses gave the king fifty marks of silver, and were thereby entitled to hold their Soke and Town " effectually and peaceably, freely and quietly, fully and honourably, with all the liberties and free customs to the same appertaining, so that none hereupon might them disturb." This charter, with all and singular the things therein contained, was ratified and confirmed by Richard II., to his beloved the then Burgesses of the aforesaid Town. The Burgesses fearing that they might be molested in the enjoyment of these their liberties and free customs, through defect of a declaration and specification of the same, petitioned Edward IV., in the seventh year of his reign, that he would graciously con- descend those liberties and free customs, under specifical declaration and express terms, to them and their heirs and succes- sors, incorporating them, and making them persons fit and capable, with perpetual suc- cession. Accordingly the king granted that Doncaster should be a free borough, and that the burgesses, tenants, resiants, and in- habitants and their successors, should be free burgesses and might have a Gild Merchant, and continue to have the same liberties and free customs, as they and their predecessors had theretofore reasonably used and enjoyed. And that they from thenceforth might be, in reality and name, one body and one perpe- tual community ; and every year choose out of themselves one fit person to be the Mayor, and two other fit persons for the Serjeants at Mace, of the same town, within the same town dwelling, to rule and govern the com- munity aforesaid, for ever. And further of his more abundant grace the king granted that the cognizance of all manner of pleas of debt, trespass, covenant, and all manner of other causes and contracts whatsoever within the same borough, should be holden before the Mayor. He granted also to the corporation the power of attachment for debt, by their Serjeants at Mace ; and of his abundant grace that the Mayor should hold and exercise the office of Coroner also, during his year ; and should be also a Justice and Keeper of the King's peace within the said borough. And he granted them of his same abundant grace the right of having a Fair at the said Borough every year upon the vigil, and upon the feast, and upon the morrow of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Alary, to be held, and for the same three days to continue, with all liberties and free customs to this sort of fair appertaining, unless that fair should be to the detriment of the neighbouring fairs. There appear to onis Charter among others as witnesses, the memorable names of " our dearest brothers, George of Clarence, and Richard of Gloucester, Dukes ; Richard Wydeville deRyvers, our Treasurer of Eng- land, Earl; and our beloved and faithful William Hasty nges de Hasty nges, Chamber- lain of our Household, and Anthony Wyde- vile de Scales, Knights. The charter is moreover decorated with the armorial bear- ings of the Corporation, a Lion sejeant, upon a cushion powdered ermine, holding in his paws and legs a banner with the castle thereon depicted, and this motto, Son Com- fort et Liesse, his Comfort and Joy. Henry VII. enlarged the charter, giving of his special grace, to the Mayor and Commu- nity all and singular the messuages, marshes, lands, tenements, rents, reversions and ser- vices, advowsons of churches, chantries and chapels, possessions and all hereditaments whatsoever within the Lordship and its de- 94 THE DOCTOR. pendencies, " with the court-leets, view-of- frank-pledges-courts, waters, mills, entry and discharge of waters, fairs, markets, tolls, picages, stallages, pontages, passages, and all and singular profits, commodities and emolu- ments whatsoever within that lordship and its precincts to the King, his heirs and suc- cessors howsoever appertaining, or lately belonging. And all and singular the issues, revenues, and profits of the aforesaid courts, view of frank pledge, waters, mills, fairs, markets, tolls, picages, stallages, pontages, passages, and the rest of the premises in what manner so ever accruing or arising." For this the Mayor and Community were to pay into the Exchequer yearly in equal portions, at the feasts of St. Michael the Archangel, and Easter, without fee, or any other charge, the sum of seventy and four pounds, thirteen shillings eleven pence and a halfpenny. Further of his more extensive grace, he granted them to hold twice in every year a leet or view of frank pledge ; and that they might have the superintendency of the assize of bread and ale, and other victuals vendible whatsoever, and the correction and punishment of the same, and all and what- soever, which to a leet or view of frank pledge appertaineth, or ought to appertain. And that they might have all issues and profits and perquisites, fines, penalties, re- demptions, forfeitures, and amerciaments in all and singular these kind of leets, or frank pledge to be forfeited, or assessed, or im- posed; and moreover wayf, strayf, infang- thief, and outfang- thief ; and the goods and chattels of all and singular felons, and the goods of fugitives, convicts and attainted, and the goods and chattels of outlaws and waived ; and the wreck of sea when it should happen, and goods and chattels whatsoever confiscated within the manor, lordship, soke, towns, villages, and the rest of the premises of the precincts of the same, and of every of them found, or to be found for ever." In what way any wreck of sea could be thrown upon any part of the Doncastrian jurisdiction is a question which might have occasioned a curious discussion between Corporal Trim and his good master. How it could happen I cannot comprehend, unless " the fatal Welland," according to old saw, which God forbid ! Should drown all Holland with his excrement.* Nor indeed do I see how it could happen then, unless Humber should at the same time drown all Lindsey, and the whole of the Yorkshire plain, and Trent bear a part also with all his thirty tributary streams, and the plain land of all the midland coun- ties be once more flooded, " as it was in the days of Noah." But if the official person who drew up this charter of Henry the Seventh contemplated any such contingency, he must have been a whimsical person ; and moreover an unreasonable one not to have considered that Doncaster itself must be de- stroyed by such a catastrophe, and conse- quently that its corporation even then could derive no benefit from wreck at sea. Further of his more abundant grace King Henry granted to the Mayor and Community that they might hold two markets in the week for ever, to wit every Tuesday and every Saturday ; and that they might hold a second fair, which was to be upon the vigil, and upon the day of St. James the Apostle, and upon the morrow of the day immediately following to continue : and that they might choose a Recorder ; and hold a weekly court in their Guild Hall, which court should be a Court of Record: and that the Recorder and three of the Aldermen should be Justices as well as the Mayor, and that they might have a gaol within the pre- cincts of their town. Henry VIII. confirmed this his father's charter, and Elizabeth that her father's con- firmation. In the next reign when the cor- poration, after having " endured the charge of many great and tedious suits," had com- pounded with Ralph Salvin for what they called his pretended title, they petitioned the King that he would be pleased to accept from them a surrender of their estates, to- gether with an assurance of Salvin's title, and then graciously assure and convey the THE DOCTOR. 95 said manors and premises to them and their successors, so to secure them against any farther litigation. This accordingly was done. In the fourth year after the Restoration the Mayor, Alder- men and Burgesses petitioned for a ratifica- tion of their existing privileges and for an enlargement of them, which Charles II. granted, " the borough being an ancient and populous borough, and he being desirous that for the time to come, for ever, one cer- tain and invariable method might be had of, for, and in the preservation of our peace, and in the rule and governance of the same borough, and of our people in the same in- habiting, and of others resorting thither; and that that borough in succeeding times, might be, and remain a borough of harmony and peace, to the fear and terror of the wicked, and for the support and reward of the good." Wherefore he the King of his special grace, certain knowledge and mere motion, willed, granted, constituted, declared and confirmed, and by his then presents did will, grant, constitute, declare and confirm, that Doncaster should be, and continue for ever, a free borough itself; and that the Mavor and community, or commonalty thereof, should be one body corporate and politic in reality, deed and name, by the name of Mayor, Aldermen and Burgesses of the borough of Doncaster in the County of York, and by that name be capacitated and enabled to plead, and to be impleaded, an- swer and be answered ; defend and be de- fended ; and to have, purchase, receive, possess, give, grant and demise." This body corporate and politic, which was to have perpetual succession, was by the Charter appointed to consist of one Mayor, twelve Aldermen, and twenty-four capital Burgesses, the Aldermen to be " of the better and more excellent inhabitants of the borough," and the capital Burgesses of the better, more reputable and discreet, and these latter were to be " for ever in perpetual future times, the Common Council of the borough." The three Estates of the Borough as they may be called, in court or convocation gathered together and assem- bled, were invested with full authority, power, and ability of granting, constituting, ordaining, making, and rendering firm, from time to time, such kind of laws, institutes, bye-laws, ordinances, and constitutions, which to them, or the greater part of them, shall seem to be, according to their sound understandings, good, salutary, profitable, honest, or honourable, and necessary for the good rule and governance of the Mayor, Aldermen, and Burgesses, and of all and singular, and other the inhabitants of the borough aforesaid ; and of all the officers, ministers, artificers, and resiants whatsoever within the borough aforesaid, for the time being ; and for the declaring in what manner and form, the aforesaid Mayor, Aldermen, and Burgesses, and all and singular other the ministers, officers, artificers, inhabitants, and resiants of the borough aforesaid, and their factors or agents, servants and apprentices, in their offices, callings, mysteries, artifices, and businesses, within the borough aforesaid, and the liberties of the same for the time being, shall have, behave, and use themselves, and otherwise for the more ultimate public good, common utility and good regimen of the borough aforesaid." And for the vic- tualling of the borough, and for the better preservation, governance, disposing, letting, and demising of the lands, tenements, pos- sessions, revenues, and hereditaments, vested in their body corporate, they had power to ordain and enforce such punishments, penal- ties, inflictions, and imprisonments of the body, or by fines and amerciaments, or by both of them, against and upon all delin- quents and offenders against these their laws as might to them seem necessary, so ! that nevertheless this kind of laws, ordi- nances, institutions, and constitutions, be not repugnant, nor contrary to the laws and statutes of the kingdom. Persons refusing to accept the office of Mayor, Alderman, Capital Burgess, or any other inferior office of the borough, except the Recorders, might be committed to gaol, till they consented to serve, or fined at the discretion of the Corporation, and held fast in their gaol till the fine was paid. THE DOCTOR. This Charter also empowered the Corpora- tion to keep a fair on the Saturday before Easter, and thenceforth on every alternate Saturday until the feast of St. Andrew, for cattle, and to hold at such times a court of pie-powder. James II. confirmed the corporation in all their rights and privileges, and by the Charter of Charles II., thus confirmed, Don- caster is governed at this day. It was during the mayoralty of Thomas Pheasant that Daniel Dove took up his abode in Doncaster. CHAPTER XL. P. I. REMARKS ON THE ART OF VERBOSITY. A RULE OF COCCEIUS, AND ITS APPLICATION TO THE LANGUAGE AND PRACTICE OF THE LAW. If they which employ their labour and travail about the public administration of justice, follow it only as a trade, with unquenchable and unconscionable thirst of gain, being not in heart persuaded that justice is God's own work, and themselves his agents in this business, the sentence of right, God's own verdict, and themselves his priests to deliver it ; formalities of justice do but serve to smother right, and that which was necessarily ordained for the common good, is through shameful abuse made the cause of common misery. HOOKER. READER, thou mayest perhaps have thought me at times disposed to be circumambagious in my manner of narration. But now, having cast thine eyes over the Doncaster charters, even in the abridged form in which I have considerately presented them, thou knowest what a round-about style is when amplified with all possible varieties of pro- fessional tautology. You may hear it exemplified to a certain degree, in most sermons of the current standard, whether composed by those who inflict them upon their congregation, or purchased ready made and warranted ortho- dox as well as original. In a still greater degree you may hear it in the extempore prayers of any meeting-house, and in those with which the so-called Evangelical Cler- gymen of the. Establishment think proper sometimes to prologize and epilogize their grievous discourses. But in tautology the Lawyers beat the Divines hollow. Cocceius laid it down as a fundamental rule of interpretation in theology, that the words and phrases of scripture are to be understood in every sense of which they are susceptible ; that is, that they actually sig- nify every thing that they can possibly sig- nify. The Lawyers carry this rule farther in their profession than the Leyden Pro- fessor did in his : they deduce from words not only every thing that they can possibly signify, but sometimes a great deal more ; and sometimes they make them bear a sig- nification precisely opposite to what they were intended to express. That crafty politician who said the use of language is to conceal our thoughts, did not go farther in his theory, than the members of the legal profession in their practice ; as every deed which comes from their hands may testify, and every Court of Law bears record. You employ them to express your meaning in a deed of conveyance, a marriage settlement, or a will ; and they so smother it with words, so envelope it with techni- calities, so bury it beneath redundancies of speech, that any meaning which is sought for may be picked out, to the confusion of that which you intended. Something at length comes to be contested : you go to a Court of Law to demand your right ; or you are summoned into one to defend it. You ask for justice, and you receive a nice dis- tinction a forced construction, a verbal criticism. By such means you are defeated and plundered in a civil cause ; and in a criminal one a slip of the pen in the indict- ment brings off" the criminal scot free. As if slips of the pen in such cases were always accidental ! But because Judges are incor- ruptible (as, blessed be God, they still are in this most corrupt nation), and because Bar- risters are not to be suspected of ever inten- tionally betraying the cause which they are fee'd to defend, it is taken for granted that the same incorruptibility, and the same principled integrity, or gentlemanly sense of honour which sometimes is its substitute, THE DOCTOR. 97 are to be found among all those persons who pass their miserable lives in quill- driving, day after day, from morning till night, at a scrivener's desk, or in an attor- ney's office ! CHAPTER XLI. P. I. REVENUE OF THE CORPORATION OF DON- CASTER WELL APPLIED. Play not for gain but sport : who plays for more Than he can lose with pleasure, stakes his heart ; Perhaps his wife's too, and whom she hath bore. HERBERT. WELL, gentle Reader, we have made our way through the Charters, and seen that the Borough of Doncaster is, as it may be called, an imperium in imperio or regnum, or rather, if there were such word, regnulum, in regno (such a word there ought to be, and very probably was, and most certainly would be if the Latin were a living lan- guage) a little kingdom in itself, modelled not unhappily after the form of that greater one whereof it is a part ; differing from it, for reasons so evident that it would be a mere waste of words and time to explain them, in being an elective instead of an hereditary monarchy, and also because the monarchy is held only for a year, not for life ; and differing in this respect likewise, that its three estates are analogous to the vulgar and mistaken notion of the English constitution, not to what that constitution is, as transmitted to us by our fathers. We have seen that its Mayor (or Monarch), its twelve Aldermen (or House of Lords), all being of the better and more excellent inhabitants, and its four-and-twenty capital Burgesses (or House of Commons,) all of the better, more reputable and discreet Doncastrians, constitute one body corporate and politic in reality, deed, and name, to the fear and terror of the wicked, and for the support and reward of the good ; and that the municipal government has been thus constituted expressly to the end that Don- caster might remain for ever a borough of harmony and peace : to the better effecting of which most excellent intent, a circum- stance which has already been adverted to, contributes greatly, to wit, that Doncaster sends no members to Parliament. Great are the mysteries of Corporations ; and great the good of them when they are so constituted, and act upon such principles as that of Doncaster. There is an old Song which says Oh London is a gallant town A most renowned city ; 'Tis governed by the scarlet gown, Indeed, the more's the pity. The two latter verses could never l)e ap- plied to Doncaster. In the middle of the last century the revenues of the Corpora- tion did not exceed 1500Z. a-year : at the beginning of this they had increased to nearly 6000Z., and this income was prin- cipally expended, as it ought to be, for the benefit of the Town. The public buildings have been erected from these funds ; and liberal donations made from them to the Dispensary and other eleemosynary institu- tions. There is no constable-assessment, none for paving and lighting the street ; these expenses are defrayed by the cor- poration, and families are supplied with river water chiefly at its expense. Whether this body corporate should be commended or condemned for encouraging the horse-races, by building a grand stand upon the course, and giving annually a plate of the value of fifty pounds, to be run for, and two sums of twenty guineas each toward the stakes, is a question which will be answered by every one according to his estimate of right and wrong. Gentlemen of the Turf will approve highly of their con- duct, so will those Gentlemen whose charac- teristics are either light fingers or black legs. Put it to the vote in Doncaster, and there will be few voices against them : take the sense of the nation upon it by uni- versal suffrage, and there would be a trium- phant majority in their favour. In this, and alas ! in too many other cases, vox populi est vox diaboli. A greater number of families are said to THE DOCTOR. meet each other at Doncaster races, than at any other meeting of the same kind in England. That such an assemblage con- tributes greatly to the gaiety and prosperity of the town itself, and of the country round about, is not to be disputed. But horse races excite evil desires, call forth evil pas- sions, encourage evil propensities, lead the innocent into temptation, and give oppor- tunities to the wicked. And the good which arises from such amusements, either as mere amusement (which is in itself unequivo- cally a good when altogether innocent), or by circulating money in the neighbourhood, or by tending to keep up an excellent breed of horses, for purposes of direct utility, these consequences are as dust in the balance, when compared with the guilt and misery that arise from gambling. Lord Exeter and the Duke of Grafton may, perhaps, be of a different opinion. So should Mr. Gully, whom Pindar may seem to have prophetically panegyrised as 'OAu/mnav/xav "AvSfX, !Tu!- KglTCtt Ev0>T.* That gentleman, indeed, may, with great propriety, congratulate himself upon his knowledge of what is called the world, and the ability with which he has turned it to a good practical account. But Lord Bur- leigh, methinks, would shake his head in the ante-chamber of Heaven if he could read there the following paragraph from a Sun- day Newspaper. " PLEASURES AND PROFITS OF THE TURF. We stated in a former number that Lord Exeter's turf-profits were, for the previous season, 26,OOOZ., this was intended to include bets. But we have now before us a correct and consecutive account of the Duke of Grafton's winnings, from 1811 to 1829 in- clusive, taking in merely the value of the stakes for which the horses ran, and which amounts to no less a sum than 99,21 ll. Bs. 4d., or somewhat more than 50001. per annum. This, even giving in a good round sum for training and outlay, will leave a sufficiently Olymp. vii. 162. pleasant balance in hand ; to say nothing of the betting book, not often, we believe, light in figures. His Grace's greatest win- nings were in 1822 and 1825 : in the former of these years they amounted to 11,3642. 5*. in the latter, 12,668/. 16s. Sd" It is to be hoped that the Duke has with his crest and coronet his motto also upon the covers of his racing and betting books, and upon his prize plates and cups : ET DECUS ET FRBTIUH KECTI. Before we pass from the Race-ground, let me repeat to the reader a wish of Horace Walpole's that " some attempt were made to ennoble our horse-races, by associating better arts with the courses, as by con- tributing for odes, the best of which should be rewarded by medals. Our nobility," says he, " would find their vanity gratified ; for, as the pedigrees of their steeds would soon grow tiresome, their own genealogies would replace them, and, in the mean time, poetry and medals would be improved. Their lordships would have judgment enough to know if the horse (which should be the impression on one side) were not well executed ; and, as I hold that there is no being more difficult to draw well than a horse, no bad artist could be employed. Such a beginning would lead farther; and the cup or plate for the prize might rise into beautiful vases." Pity that the hint has not been taken, and an auxiliary sporting society formed for promoting the education of Pindars and Benvenuto Cellinis ! INTERCHAPTER V. WHEREIN THE AUTHOR MAKES KNOWN HIS GOOD INTENTIONS TO ALL READERS, AND OFFERS GOOD ADVICE TO SOME OF THEM. I can write, and talk too, as soft as other men, with submission to better judgements, and I leave it to you Gentlemen. I am but one, and I always distrust myself. I only hint my thoughts : You'll please to consider whether you will not think that it may seem to ileserve your con- sideration This is a taking way of speaking. But much good may do them that use it ' ASGILL. Reader, my compliments to you ! This is a form of courtesy which the Turks THE DOCTOR. use in their compositions, and being so courteous a form, I liave here adopted it. Why not ? Turks though they are, we learnt inoculation from them, and the use of coffee; and hitherto we have taught them nothing but the use of tobacco in return. Reader, my compliments to you ! Why is it that we hear no more of Gentle Readers ? Is it that having become critical in this age of Magazines and Reviews, they have ceased to be gentle ? But all are not critical ; The baleful dregs Of these late ages, that Circaean draught Of servitude and folly, have not yet, Yet have not so dishonour'd, so deform'd The native judgement of the human soul.* In thus applying these lines I mean the servitude to which any rational man de- grades his intellect, when he submits to receive an opinion from the dictation of another, upon a point whereon he is just as capable of judging for himself; the intel- lectual servitude of being told by Mr. A. B. or C. whether he is to like a book or not, or why he is to like it : and the folly of supposing that the man who writes anony- mously, is on that very account entitled to more credit for judgment, erudition, and integrity, than the author who comes for- war in his own person, and stakes his character upon what he advances. All Readers, however, thank Heaven, and what is left among us of that best and rarest of all senses called Common Sense, all Readers, however, are not critical. There are still some who are willing to be pleased, and thankful for being pleased ; and who do not think it necessary that they should be able to parse their pleasure, like a lesson, and give a rule or a reason why they are pleased, or why they ought not to be pleased. There are still readers who have never read an Essay upon Taste ; and if they take my advice they never will ; for they can no more improve their taste by so doing, than they could improve their appetite or their digestion by studying a cookery-book. I have something to say to all classes of Readers : and, therefore, having thus begun to speak of one, with that class I will proceed. It is to the youthful part of my lectors (why not lectors as well as auditors ?) it is virginibus puerisque that I now address myself. Young Readers, you whose hearts are open, whose understand- ings are not yet hardened, and whose feelings are neither exhausted nor encrusted by the world, take from me a better rule than any professors of criticism will teach you ! Would you know whether the tendency of a book is good or evil, examine in what state of mind you lay it down. Has it induced you to suspect that what you have been accustomed to think unlawful may after all be innocent, and that that may be harmless which you have hitherto been taught to think dangerous ? Has it tended to make you dissatisfied and impatient under the control of others ; and disposed you to relax in that self-government, with- out which both the laws of God and man tell us there can be no virtue and conse- quently no happiness ? Has it attempted to abate your admiration and reverence for what is great and good, and to diminish in you the love of your country and your fel- low-creatures ? Has it addressed itself to your pride, your vanity, your selfishness, or any other of your evil propensities ? Has it defiled the imagination with what is loath- some, and shocked the heart with what is monstrous ? Has it disturbed the sense of right and wrong which the Creator has im- planted in the human soul ? If so if you are conscious of all or any of these effects, or if, having escaped from all, you have felt that such were the effects it was in- tended to produce, throw the book in the fire, whatever name it may bear in the title- page ! Throw it in the fire, young man, though it should have been the gift of a friend! young lady, away with the whole set, though it should be the prominent fur- niture of a rosewood bookcase ! 100 THE DOCTOR. CHAPTER XLII. P. I. DONCASTER CHURCH. THE RECTORIAL TITHES SECURED BY ARCHBISHOP SHARP FOR HIS OWN FAMILY. Say, ancient edifice, thyself with years Grown grey, how long upon the hill has stood Thy weather-braving tower, and silent mark'd The human leaf in constant bud and fall ? The generations of deciduous man, How often hast thou seen them pass away ! HURDIS. THE ecclesiastical history of Doncaster is not so much to the credit of all whom it concerns, as the municipal. Nigel Fossard, in the year 1100, granted the advowson of its church to St. Mary's Abbey, York ; and it was for rather more than two hundred years a rectory of two rnedieties, served by two resident rectors whom the Ab- bey appointed. In 1303, Archbishop Cor- bridge appropriated it to the abbey, and ordained it a perpetual vicarage. Fifty marks a year out of the profits of the rec- tory were then allowed for the Vicar's sup- port, and he held the house and garden also which had formerly appertained to one of the Rectors. When, upon the disso- lution of the monasteries, it fell to the crown, Henry VIII. gave it with other monastic impropriations to Archbishop Hoi- gate, as some compensation for the valu- able manors which he made the see of York alienate to himself. The church of Doncaster gained nothing by this transfer. The rec- tory was secured by Archbishop Sharp for his own family. At the beginning of the present century it was worth from 1000/. to 12001. a year, while the Vicar had only an annual income of 801. charged upon that rectory, and 201. charged upon 'a cer- tain estate. He had no tithes, no Easter offerings, and no other glebe than the church- yard, and an orchard attached to the vicar- age : and he had to pay a curate to do the duty at Loversall church. There is one remarkable epitaph in this church upon a monument of the altar form, placed just behind the reading-desk. How, how, who is here ? I Robin of Doncaster, and Margaret my fere. That I spent, that I had ; That I gave, that I hnve ; That I left, that I lost. A. D. 1579. Quoth Robertas Byrkes who in this world did reign Threescore years and seven, and yet lived not one. Robin of Doncaster, as he is now familiarly called by persons connected, or acquainted with the church, is remembered only by this record which he has left of himself : per- haps the tomb was spared for the singularity of the epitaph, when prouder monuments in the same church were despoiled. He seems to have been one who, thinking little of any thing beyond the affairs of this world till the last year of his pilgrimage, lived during that year a new life. It may also be inferred that his property was inherited by persons to whom he was bound by no other ties than those of cold affinity ; for if he had felt any concern for their welfare, he would not have considered those possessions as lost which were left to them. Perhaps a farther inference may be fai ly drawn, that though the deceased had stood in this uncomfortable relation to his heirs- at-law, he was too just a man to set aside the course of succession which the law ap- pointed. They who think that in the testa- mentary disposal of their property they have a right to do whatever it is legally in their power to do, may find themselves wofully mistaken when they come to render their account. Nothing but the weightiest moral considerations can justify any one in depriv- ing another of that which the law of the land would otherwise in its due course have assigned him. But rights of descent cease to be held sacred in public opinion in pro- portion as men consider themselves exempt from all duty to their forefathers ; and that is in proportion as principles become sophis- ticated, and society more and more corrupt. St. George's is the only church in Don- caster, a town which in the year 1800 con- tained 1246 houses, 5697 souls : twenty years afterwards the houses had increased to 1729, and the inhabitants to 8544. The state having made no other provision for the religious instruction of the townspeople THE DOCTOR. 101 than one church, one vicar, and one curate if the vicar, from other revenues than those of his vicarage, can afford to keep one the far greater part of the inhabitants are left to be absenters by necessity, or dissent- ers by choice. It was the boast of the corporation in an address to Charles II. that they had not "one factious seditious person" in their town, " being all true sons of the Church of England and loyal subjects ;" and that " in the height of all the late troubles and confusion (that is, during the civil wars and the commonwealth, which might more truly have been called the com- mon-woe) they never had any conventicle amongst them, the nurseries and seed plots of sedition and rebellion." There are con- venticles there now of every denomination. And this has been occasioned by the great sin of omission in the Government, and the great sin of commission in that Prelate who appropriated the property of the church to his own family. Hollis Pigot wasYicar when Daniel Dove began to reside in Doncaster; and Mr. Fawkes was his Curate. CHAPTER XLIII. P. I. ANTIQUITIES OF DONCASTER. THE MATRES. SAXON FONT. THE CASTLE. THE HALL CROSS. Vieux monuments, Las, peu a pen cendre vans devenez, Fable du peuple et publiques rapines I Et bien qu'au Temps pour un temps facent guerre Les bastimens, si est ce que le Temps (Euvres et noms finablement atterre. JOACHIM DU BELLAY. THE oldest monument in Doncaster is- a Roman altar, which was discovered in the year 1781, in digging a cellar six feet deep, in St. Sepulchre's gate. An antiquary of Ferrybridge congratulated the corporation " on the great honour resulting therefrom." Was it a great honour to Doncaster, meaning by Doncaster its Mayor, its Alder- men, its capital burgesses, and its whole people, was it, I say, an honour, a great honour to it, and these, and each and all of these, that this altar should have been dis- covered ? Did the corporation consider it to be so ? Ought it to be so considered ? Did they feel that pleasurable though fever- ish excitement at the discovery which is felt by the fortunate man at the moment when his deserts have obtained their honourable meed ? Richard Staveley was Mayor that year : Was it an honour to him and his mayoralty as it was to King Ferdinand of Spain that, when he was King, Christopher Columbus discovered the New World, or to Queen Elizabeth, that Shakespeare flou- rished under her reign ? Was he famous for it, as old Mr. Bramton Gurdon of As- sington in Suffolk was famous, about the year 1627, for having three sons parliament men ? If he was thus famous, did he "blush to find it fame," or smile that it should be accounted so ? What is fame ? what is honour ? But I say no more. " He that hath knowledge spareth his words ; and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of under- standing." It is a votive altar, dedicated to the Decs Matres, with this inscription : MATRIBTJS M. NAN- TONIUS. OHBIOTAL. VOTUM. SOLVIT. LTJBENS. MERITO. and it is curious because it is only the third altar dedicated to those Goddesses which has yet been found: the other two were also found in the North of England, one at Binchester near Durham, the other at Rib- chester in Lancashire. Next in antiquity to this Roman altar, is a Saxon font in the church ; its date, which is now obliterated, is said to have been A. D. 1061. Not a wreck remains of any thing that existed in Doncaster between the time when Orbiotal erected his altar to the local God- desses, and when the baptismal font was made : nor the name of a single individual ; nor memorial, nor tradition of a single event. 1C2 THE DOCTOR. There was a castle there, the dykes of which might partly be seen in Leland's time, and the foundation of part of the walls, nothing more, so long even then had it been demolished. In the area where it stood the church was built, and Leland thought that great part of the ruins of one building were used for the foundations of the other, and for filling up its walls. It is not known at what time the church was founded. There was formerly a stone built into its east end, with the date of A. D. 1071 ; but this may more probably have been originally placed in the castle than the church. Different parts of the building are of different ages, and the beautiful tower is supposed to be of Henry the Third's age. The Hall Cross, as it is now called, bore this inscription : ICEST : EST : LACRUICE : OTE : D : TUXI : A : KI : AL.ME : DEU : EN : FACE : MERCI : AM : There can be little doubt that this Otto de Tilli is the same person whose name appears as a witness to several grants about the middle of the twelfth century, and who was Seneschal to the Earl of Conisborough. It stood uninjured till the Great Rebellion, when the Earl of Manchester's army, on their way from the South to the siege of York in the year 1644, chose to do the Lord service by de- facing it. " And the said Earl of Manches- ter's men, endeavouring to pull the whole shank down, got a smith's forge-hammer and broke off the four corner crosses ; and then fastened ropes to the middle cross, which was stronger and higher, thinking by that to pull the whole shank down. But a stone breaking off, and falling upon one of the men's legs, which was nearest it, and breaking his leg, they troubled themselves no more about it." This account, with a drawing of the cross in its former state, was in Fairfax's collection of antiquities, and came afterwards into Thoresby's possession. The Antiquarian Society published an en- graving of it by that excellent and upright artist Vertue, of whom it is recorded that he never would engrave a fictitious portrait. The pillar was composed of five columns, a large one in the middle, and four smaller ones around it, answering pretty nearly to the cardinal points : each column was sur- mounted by a cross, that in the middle being the highest and proportionally large. There were numeral figures on the south face, near the top, which seem to have been intended for a dial ; the circumference of the pillar was eleven feet seven, the height eighteen feet. William Paterson, in the year of his mayoralty, 1678, "beautified it with four dials, ball and fane :" in 1792, when Henry Heaton was Mayor, it was taken down, because of its decayed state, and a new one of the same form was erected by the road- side, a furlong to the south of its former site, on Hop-cross hill. This was better than destroying the cross ; and as either renovation or demolition had become neces- sary, the Corporation are to be commended for what they did. But it is no longer the same cross, nor on the same site which had once been consecrated, and where many a passing prayer had been breathed in sim- plicity and sincerity of heart. What signifies the change? Both place and monument had long been desecrated. As little religious feeling was excited by it as would have been by the altar to the Decs Matres if it had stood there. And of the hundreds of travellers who daily pass it, in or outside of stage coaches, in their own carriages, on horseback, or on foot ; and of the thousands who flock thither during the races ; and of the inhabitants of Doncaster itself, not a single soul cares whether it be the original cross or not, nor where it was originally erected, nor when, nor wherefore, nor by whom ! " I wish I did not !" said Dr. Dove, when some one advanced this consideration with the intent of reconciling him to the change. " I am an old man," said he, " and in age we dislike all change as naturally, and therefore, no doubt, as fitly, as in youth we desire it. The youthful generation, in their ardour for improvement and their love of novelty, strive to demolish what ought religiously to be pre- served ; the elders, in their caution and their THE DOCTOR. 103 fear, endeavour to uphold what has become useless, and even injurious. Thus, in the order of Providence, we have both the ne- cessary impulse and the needful check. " But I miss the old cross from its old place. More than fifty years had I known it there ; and if fifty years' acquaintance did not give us some regard even for stocks and stones, we must be stocks and stones our- selves." CHAPTER XLIV. P. I. HISTORICAL CIRCUMSTANCES CONNECTED WITH DONCASTER. THOMAS, EARL OF LANCASTER. EDWARD IV. ASKE'S INSURRECTION. ILLUS- TRIOUS VISITORS. JAMES I. BARNABEE. CHARLES I. CHURCH LIBRARY. They unto whom we shall appear tedious, are in no wise injured by us, because it is in their own hands to spare that labour which they are not willing to endure. HOOKER. NOTHING more than the scanty notices which have already been mentioned is re- corded concerning the history of Doncaster, till King John ordered it "to be enclosed with hertstone and pale, according as the ditch required ; and that a light brecost or barbican should be made upon the bridge, to defend the town if need should be." The bridge was then of wood ; in the following reign the townsmen " gave aid to make a stone bridge there :" in that reign a hospital for sick and leprous people was built there, the priories of St. James and St. Nicholas founded, a Dominican convent, and a Fran- ciscan one. Henry III. slept there on his way to York. In the 23d year of Edward I. the borough was first summoned to send members to Parliament, from which burthen, as it was then considered, it was relieved in the ensuing year. In 1321, Thomas Earl of Lancaster held a council here with other discontented Barons against Edward II. ; in its results it brought many of them to an untimely death, and Lancaster himself suffered by the axe at Porufret, as much in revenge for Gaveston, as for this rebellion. " In this sort," says an old chronicler, " came the mighty Earl of Lancaster to his end, being the greatest Peer in this realm, and one of the mightiest Earls in Christendom : for when he began to levy war against the King, he was pos- sessed of five earldoms, Lancaster, Lincoln, Salisbury, Leicester, and Derby, beside other seigniories, lands, and possessions, great to his advancement in honour and puissance. But all this was limited within prescription of time, which being expired both honour and puissances were cut off with dishonour and death ; for (O miserable state !) Invidafatorttm series, summisque negatum Stare din. " But now touching the foresaid Earl of Lan- caster, great strife rose afterwards amongst the people, whether he ought to be reputed for a saint, or no. Some held that he ought to be no less esteemed, for that he did many alms-deeds in his lifetime, honoured men of religion, and maintained a true quarrel till his life's end. Also his enemies continued not long after, but came to evil ends. Others conceived another opinion of him, alleging that he favoured not his wife, but lived in spouse-breach, defiling a great num- ber of damsels and gentlewomen. If any offended him, he slew him shortly after in his wrathful mood. Apostates and other evil doers he maintained, and would not suffer them to be punished by due order of law. All his doings he used to commit to one of his secretaries, and took no heed him- self thereof; and as for the manner of his death, he fled shamefully in the fight, and was taken and put to death against his will ; yet by reason of certain miracles which were said to be done near the place both where he suffered and where he was buried, caused many to think he was a Saint. Howbeit, at length by the King's commandment, the church doors of the Priory where he was buried were shut and closed, so that no man might l>e suffered to come to the tomb to bring any offerings, or to do any other kind of devotion to the same. Also the hill where he suffered was kept by certain 104 THE DOCTOR. Gascoigners appointed by the Lord Hugh Spenser his son, then lying at Pomfret, to the end that no people should come and make their prayers there in worship of the said Earl, whom they took verily for a martyr." The next confederacy at Doncaster was more successful, though it led eventually to bloodier consequences. Bolingbroke, after landing at Ravensburg, was met here by Northumberland, Hotspur, Westmorland, and others, who engaged with him there, some of them probably not knowing how far his ambitious views extended, and who afterwards became the victims of their own turbulent policy. The Dragon's teeth which were then sown produced a plentiful harvest threescore years afterwards, when more than six-and-thirty thousand Englishmen fell by each other's hands at Towton, between this town and York. Edward IV. beheaded Sir Robert Willis and Sir Ralph Grey here, whom he had taken in the rout of Lose-coat field ; and when he mustered his people here to march against Warwick and Clarence, whose intentions began then to be dis- covered, " it was said that never was seen in England so many goodly men and so well arranged in a field." Afterwards he passed through Doncaster when he returned from exile, on the way to his crowning victory at Barnet. Richard III. also passed through this place on the way to York, where he was crowned. In Henry VIH.'s reign it became the actual seat of war, and a battle would have been fought there, if the Don had not, by its sudden rising, twice prevented Aske and his army of insurgents from attacking the Duke of Norfolk, with so superior a force that success would have been almost certain, and the triumph of the popish party a pro- bable result. Here Norfolk, profiting by that delay, treated with the insurgents, and finally, by offering them a free pardon, and engaging that a free Parliament should be held in the North, induced them to disperse. In 1538 John Grigge, the Mayor, lost a thumb in an affray at Marshgate, and next year the Prior of Doncaster was hanged for treason. In 1551 the town was visited by the plague : in that of 1582, 908 persons died here. The next noticeable circumstance in the annals of Doncaster is, that James I. lodged there, at the sign of the Sun and Bear, on his way from Scotland to take possession of the Crown of England. The maypole in the market-place was taken down in 1634, and the market cross erected there in its place. But the removal of the maypole seems to have been no proof of any improved state of morals in the town ; for Barnabee, the illustrious potator, saw there the most unbecoming sight that he inet with in all his travels. On his second visit the frail Levite was dead ; and I will not pick out a name from the succession of Vicars which might suit the time of the poem, because, though Doncaster was the scene, it does not follow that the Vicar was the actor ; and whoever he may have been, his name can be no object of legitimate curiosity, though Barnabee's justly was, till it was with so much ingenuity determined by Mr. Haslewood. When the army which had been raised against the Scots was disbanded, Charles I. dined there at the house of Lady Carlingford, and a pear tree, which he is said to have planted, is now standing there in Mr. Maw's garden. Charles was there again in 1644, and attended service in the church. And from a house in the butter market it was that Morris with two companions attempted to carry off the parliamentary commander Rainsborough at noon-day, and failing in the attempt, killed him upon the spot. A Church Library was founded here by the contributions of the clergy and gentry of the surrounding country in 1726. A cham- ber over the church porch was appropriated for the books, with the Archbishop's licence ; and there was one curate of this town whose love of reading was so great, that he not only passed his days in this library, but had a bed fixed there, and spent his nights there also. In 1731 all the streets were new paved, and the sign-posts taken down ; and in 1739, THE DOCTOR. 105 Daniel Dove, in remembrance of whom these volumes are composed, came to reside in Doncaster. CHAPTER XLV. P. I. CONCERNING THE WOKTHIES, OB GOOD MEN, WHO WERE NATIVES OF DONCASTER OR OTHERWISE CONNECTED WITH THAT TOWN. V ir bonus est quis f TERENCE. LET good old Fuller answer the well-known question which is conveyed in the motto to this chapter. " And here," he says, " be it remembered, that the same epithet in several places accepts sundry interpretations. He is called a Good Man in common discourse, who is not dignified with gentility ; a Good Man upon the Exchange, who hath a re- sponsible estate ; a Good Man in a Camp, who is a tall man of his arms ; a Good Man in the Church, who is pious and devout in his conversation. Thus, whatever is fixed therein in other relations, that person is a Good Man in history, whose character affords such matter as may please the palate of an ingenuous reader." Two other significations may be added which Fuller has not pretermitted, because he could not include them, they being rela- tively to him, of posthumous birth. A Good Man upon State trials, or in certain Com- mittees which it might not be discreet to designate, is one who will give his verdict without any regard to his oath in the first case or to the evidence in both. And in the language of the Pugilists it signifies one who can bear a great deal of beating : Hal Pierce, the Game Chicken and unrivalled glory of the ring, pronounced this eulogium upon Mr. Gully, the present honourable member for Pontefract, when he was asked for a candid opinion of his professional merits : " Sir, he was the very Best Man as ever I had." Among the Good Men, in Fuller's accept- ation of the term, who have been in any way connected with Doncaster, the first in renown as well as in point of time, is Robin Hood. Many men talk of him who never shot in his bow ; but many think of him when they drink at his Well, which is at Skelbroke by the way-side, about six miles from Doncaster on the York road. There is a small inn near with Robin Hood for its sign. This country has produced no other hero whose popularity has endured so long. The Duke of Marlborough, the Duke of Cumberland, and the Marquis of Granby have flourished upon sign-posts, and have faded there ; so have their compeers Prince Eu- gene and Prince Ferdinand. Rodney and Nelson are fading ; and the time is not far distant when Wellington also will have had his day. But while England shall be Eng- land, Robin Hood will be a popular name.* Near Robin Hood's Well, and nearer to Doncaster, the Hermit of Harnpole resided, at the place from which he was so called, " where living he was honoured, and dead was buried and sainted." Richard Role, however, for that was his name, was no otherwise sainted than by common opinion in those parts. He died in 1349, and is the oldest of our known Poets. His writings, both in verse and prose, which are of con- siderable extent, ought to be published at the expense of some national institution. In the next generation John Marse, who was born in a neighbouring village of that name, flourished in the Carmelite Convent at Doncaster, and obtained great celebrity in his time for writing against a far greater than himself John Wickliffe. It is believed that Sir Martin Frobisher was born at Doncaster, and that his father was Mayor of that place. " I note this the rather," says Fuller, " because learned Mr. Carpenter, in his Geography, recounts him among the famous men of Devonshire ; but why should Devonshire, which hath a flock of Worthies of her own, take a lamb from another country." This brave seaman, when he left his property to a kinsman who was * " And there they live like the old KOBIN HOOD OP ENGLAND." As You LIKE IT. 106 THE DOCTOR. very likely to dissipate it, said, " it was gotten at sea, and would never thrive long at land." Lord Molesworth having purchased the estate at Edlington, four miles from Don- caster, formerly the property of Sir Edward Stanhope, resided there occasionally in the old mansion, during the latter part of his life. His Account of Denmark is a book which may always be read with profit. The Danish Ambassador complained of it to King William, and hinted that if one of his Danish Majesty's subjects had taken such liberties with the King of England, his master would, upon complaint, have taken off the author's head. " That I cannot do," replied William ; " but if you please I will tell him what you say, and he shall put it into the next edition of his book." Other remarkable persons who were con- nected with Doncaster, and were contem- poraries with Dr. Dove, will be noticed in due time. Here I shall only mention two who have distinguished themselves since his day (alas ! ) and since I took my leave of a place endeared to me by so many recollec- tions. Mr. Bingley, well known for his popular works upon Natural History, and Mr. Henry Lister Maw, the adventurous naval officer who was the first Englishman that ever came down the great river Ama- zons, are both natives of this town. I know not whether the Doncaster Maws are of Hibernian descent; but the name of M'Coghlan is in Ireland beautified and ab- breviated into Maw ; the M'Coghlan, or head of the family, was called the Maw; and a district of King's County was known within the memory of persons now living by the appellation of the Maw's County. For myself, I am behind a veil which is not to be withdrawn : nevertheless I may say, without consideration of myself, that in Doncaster both because of the principal scene and of the subject of this work HONOS EBIT HTIIC QUOQUE TOMO. INTERCHAPTER VI. CONTINGENT CAUSES. PERSONAL CONSIDERA- TIONS INDUCED BY REFLECTING ON THEM. THE AUTHOR TREMBLES FOR THE PAST. Vereis qtte no fay laxada desatida De nudo y de pendencia sober ana ; Ni a poder trastornar la orden del cielo Lasfuerzas Uegan, ni el taber del suelo. BALBUENA. " THERE is no action of man in this life," says Thomas of Malmesbury, " which is not the beginning of so long a chain of conse- quences, as that no human providence is high enough to give us a prospect to the end." The chain of causes, however, is as long as the chain of consequences, perad- venture longer ; and when I think of the causes which have combined to procreate this book, and the consequences which of necessity it must produce, I am lost in ad- miration. How many accidents might for ever have impossibilitated the existence of this incom- parable work ! If, for instance, I the Un- known had been born in any other part of the world than in the British dominions ; or in any other age than one so near the time in which the venerable subject of these me- moirs flourished; or in any other place than where these localities could have been learned, and all these personalities were re- membered ; or if I had not counted it among my felicities like the philosopher of old, and the Polish Jews of this day, (who thank God for it in their ritual), to have been born a male instead of a female ; or if I had been born too poor to obtain the blessings of education, or too rich to profit by them : or if I had not been born at all. If, indeed, in the course of six thousand years which have elapsed since the present race of intel- lectual inhabitants were placed upon this terraqueous globe, any chance had broken off one marriage among my innumerable married progenitors, or thwarted the court- ship of those my equally innumerable ances- tors who lived before that ceremony was instituted, or in countries where it was not THE DOCTOR. 107 known, where, or how would my immortal part have existed at this time, or in what shape would these bodily elements have been compounded with which it is invested ? A single miscarriage among my millions of grandmothers might have cut off the entail of my mortal being ! Quid non evert it primordia frivola vitts f Nee mirum, vita est Integra pene nihiL Jfunc peril, ah ! tenui pereunlis odore lucerrue, Elfumum htinc fumus forlior illefugat. Totum aquilis Ciesar rapidis circumvolet orbem, Collfgamque sibi viz feral esse Jovem. Quantula res quantus potuisset inepta iriumphos. El magnum nasci vel prohibere Deum ! Ezlueredasset inoriente lucemula flammd Tot dominis mundum numinibusque ncvit. Tu quoque tantilli, juvenis PeUtee, peruses, (Ilium gratus terris illefuisset odor .') Tu tanturn unius qui pauper regulus orbis, Et prope privatus visut es esse tibi. ffec tu tanluni, idem potuisset tollere casus Teque, Jovis fili, Bucephalumque tuum : Dormitwque urbem male delevisset agaso Bucephalam r tiestris, Indica Fata, libris.* The snuff of a candle, a fall, a fright, nay, even a fit of anger ! Such things are happening daily, yea, hourly, upon this peopled earth. One such mishap among so many millions of cases, millions ten million times told, centillions multiplied beyond the vocabulary of numeration, and ascending to ifsafipaicoffia, which word having been coined by a certain Alexis (perhaps no otherwise remembered) and latinised are- naginta by Erasmus, is now Anglicised sandillions by me; one such among them all ! I tremble to think of it ! Again. How often has it depended upon political events ! If the Moors had defeated Charles Martel ; if William instead of Harold had fallen in the Battle of Hastings; if bloody Queen Mary had left a child ; or if blessed Queen Mary had not married the Prince of Orange! In the first case the English might now have been Musselmen ; in the second they would have continued to use the Saxon tongue, and in either of those cases the Ego could not have existed ; for if Arabian blood were put in, or Norman taken out, the whole chain of succession would have been altered. The two latter * COWLBY. cases, perhaps, might not have affected the bodily existence of the Ego ; but the first might have entailed upon him the curse of Popery, and the second, if it had not sub- jected him to the same curse, would have made him the subject of a despotic govern- ment. In neither case could he have been capable of excogitating lucubrations, such as this high history contains : for either of these misfortunes would have emasculated his mind, unipsefying and unegofying the Ipsissimus Ego. Another chance must be mentioned. One of my ancestors was, as the phrase is, out in a certain rebellion. His heart led him into the field and his heels got him out of it. Had he been less nimble, or had he been taken and hanged, and hanged he would have been if taken, there would have been no Ego at this day, no history of Dr. Daniel Dove. The Doctor would have been like the heroes who lived before Agamemnon, and his immortaliser would never have lived at all. CHAPTER XL VI. P. L DANIEL DOVE'S ARBIVAL AT DONCASTEE. THE ORGAN IN SAINT GEOBGE's CHUKCH. THE PTJJLPIT. MBS. NEALE'S BENEFACTION. yon ulia Musis pagtna gratior Quant qvtc sever it ludicra jungere ffovit, fatigatamque nugis Utilibus recreare mentem. DR. JOHNSON. IT was in the Mayoralty of Thomas Phea- sant (as has already been said) and in the year of our Lord 1739, that Daniel Dove the younger, having then entered upon his seventeenth year, first entered the town of Doncaster, and was there delivered by his excellent father to the care of Peter Hop- kins. They loved each other so dearly, that this, which was the first day of their separation, was to both the unhappiest of their lives. The great frost commenced in the winter of that year; and with the many longing 108 THE DOCTOR. lingering thoughts which Daniel cast to- wards his home, a wish was mingled that he could see the frozen waterfall in Weather- cote Cave. It was a remarkable era in Doncaster also, because the Organ was that year erected, at the cost of five hundred guineas, raised by voluntary subscription among the parish- ioners. Harris and Byfield were the builders, and it is still esteemed one of the best in the kingdom. When it was opened, the then curate, Mr. Fawkes, preached a sermon for the occasion, in which, after having rheto- rised in praise of sacred music, and touched upon the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer and all kinds of instruments, he turned to the organ and apostrophised it thus ; " But O what O what what shall I call thee by? thou divine Box of sounds ! " That right old worthy Francis Quarles of quaint memory, and the more to be re- membered for his quaintness, knew how to improve an organ somewhat better than Mr. Fawkes. His poem upon one is the first in his Divine Fancies, and whether he would have it ranked among Epigrams, Meditations, or Observations, perhaps he could not himself tell. The Reader may class it as he pleases. Observe this Orgaiy mark but how it goes 1 'Tis not the hand alone of him that blows The unseen bellows, nor the hand that plays Upon the apparent note-dividing keys, That makes these well-composed airs appear Before the high tribunal of thine ear. They both concur ; each acts his several part ; Th* one gives it breath, the other lends it art. Man is this Organ ; to whose every action Heaven gives a breath, (a breath without coaction,) Without which blast we cannot act at all ; Without which Breath the Universe must fall To the first nothing it was made of seeing In Him we live, we move, we have our being. Thus filled with His diviner breath, and back't With His first power, we touch the keys and act : lie blows the bellows : as we thrive in skill, Our actions prove, like music, good or ill. The question whether instrumental music may lawfully be introduced into the worship of God in the Churches of the New Testa- ment, has been considered by Cotton Mather and answered to his own satisfaction and that of his contemporary countrymen and their fellow puritans, in his " Historical Remarks upon the discipline practised in the Churches of New England." "The Instrumental Music used in the old Church of Israel," he says, " was an Institution of God ; it was the Commandment of the Lord by the Prophets ; and the Instruments are called God's Instruments, and Instruments of the Lord. Now there is not one word of Institution in the New Testament for In- strumental Music in the Worship of God. And because the holy God rejects all he does not command in his worship, he now therefore in effect says to us, / will not hear the melody of thy Organs. But, on the other hand, the rule given doth abundantly intimate that no voice is now heard in tho Church but what is significant, and edifying by signification; which the voice of Instru- ments is not." Worse logic than this and weaker reason- ing no one would wish to meet with in the controversial writings of a writer from whose opinions he differs most widely. The Re- marks form part of that extraordinary and highly interesting work the Magnolia Chrisli Americana. Cotton Mather is such an author as Fuller would have been if the old English Worthy, instead of having been from a child trained up in the way he should go, had been calvinisticated till the milk of human kind- ness with which his heart was always ready to overflow had turned sour. " Though Instrumental Music," he pro- ceeds to say, " were admitted and appointed in the worship of God under the Old Testa- ment, yet we do not find it practised in the Synagogue of the Jews, but only in the Temple. It thence appears to have been a part of the ceremonial Pedagogy which is now abolished; nor can any say it was a part of moral worship. And whereas the common usage now hath confined Instru- mental Music to Cathedrals, it seems therein too much to Judaise, which to do is a part of the Anti-Christian Apostacy, as well as to Paganise. If we admit Instrumental Music in the worship of God, how can we resist the imposition of all the instru- THE DOCTOR. 109 ments used among the ancient Jews? Yea, Dancing as well as playing, and several other Judaic actions?" During the short but active reign of the Puritans in England, they acted upon this preposterous opinion, and sold the Church organs, without being scrupulous concerning the uses to which they might be applied. A writer of that age, speaking of the pre- valence of drunkenness, as a national vice, says, " that nothing may be wanting to the height of luxury and impiety of this abo- mination, they have translated the organs out of the Churches to set them up in taverns, chaunting their dithyrambics and bestial bacchanalias to the tune of those instruments which were wont to assist them in the celebration of God's praises, and regulate the voices of the worst singers in the world, which are the English in their churches at present." It cannot be supposed that the Organs which were thus disposed of, were instru- ments of any great cost or value. An old pair of Organs, (for that was the customary mode of expression, meaning a set, and in like manner a pair of cards, for a pack ; ) an old pair of this kind belonging to Lam- beth Church was sold in 1565 for 11. 10s. Church Organs, therefore, even if they had not been at a revolutionary price, would be within the purchase of an ordinary vintner. " In country parish Churches," says Mr. Denne the Antiquary, "even where the district was small, there was often a choir of singers, for whom forms, desks and books were provided ; and they probably most of them had benefactors who supplied them with a pair of organs that might more pro- perly have been termed a box of whistles. To the best of my recollection there were in the chapels of some of the Colleges in Cam- bridge very, very, indifferent instruments. That of the chapel belonging to our old house was removed before I was admitted." The use of the organ has occasioned a great commotion, if not a schism, among the methodists of late. Yet our holy Herbert could call Church music the " sweetest of sweets ;" and describe himself when listen- ing to it, as disengaged from the body, and " rising and falling with its wings." Harris, the chief builder of the Doncaster Organ, was a contemporary and rival of Father Smith, famous among Organists. Each built one for the Temple Church, and Father Smith's had most votes in its favour.* The peculiarity of the Doncaster Organ, which was Harris's masterpiece, is, its having, in the great organ, two trumpets and a clarion, throughout the whole com- pass ; and these stops are so excellent, that a celebrated musician said every pipe in them was worth its weight in silver. Our Doctor dated from that year, in his own recollections, as the great era of his life. It served also for many of the Doncastrians, as a date to which they carried back their computations, till the generation which re- membered the erecting of the organ was extinct. This was the age of Church improvement in Doncaster, meaning here by Church, the material structure. Just thirty years before, the Church had been beautified and the ceiling painted, too probably to the disfigurement of works of a better architec- tural age. In 1721 the old peal of five bells was replaced with eight new ones, of new metal, heretofore spoken of. In 1723 the church floor and church-yard, which had both been unlevelled by Death's levelling course, were levelled anew, and new rails were placed to the altar. Two years later the Corporation gave the new Clock, and it was fixed to strike on the watch bell, that clock which numbered the hours of Daniel Dove's life from the age of seventeen till that of seventy. In 1736 the west gallery was put up, and in 1741, ten years after the organ, a new pulpit, but not in the old style ; for pulpits, which are among the finest works of art in Brabant and Flanders, had degenerated in England, and in other pro- testant countries. * See Lord Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors, vol. iii. p. 591. He states that Judge Jeffreys decided in favour of Smith's, and that Harris's went to Wolver- hampton. I have often heard it there, and he who played on it had Music in his soul. If I recollect aright, his name- was Rudge. 110 THE DOCTOR. This probably was owing, in our own country, as much to the prevalence of puri- tanism, as to the general depravation of taste. It was for their beauty or their splendour that the early Quakers inveighed with such vehemence against pulpits, " many of which places," saith George Keith in his quaking days, "as we see in England and many other countries, have a great deal of super- fluity, and vain and superfluous labour and pains of carving, painting and varnishing upon them, together with your cloth and velvet cushion in many places ; because of which, and not for the height of them above the ground, we call them Chief Places. But as for a commodious place above the ground whereon to stand when one doth speak in an assembly, it was never condemned by our friends, who also have places whereupon to stand, when to minister, as they had under the Law." * In 1743 a marble Communion Table was placed in the Church, and (passing forward more rapidly than the regular march of this narration, in order to present these ecclesi- astical matters without interruption,) a set of chimes were fixed in 1754 merry be the memory of those by whom this good work was effected ! The north and south galleries were re-built in 1765 ; and in 1767 the church was white-washed, a new reading- desk put up, the pulpit removed to what was deemed a more convenient station, and Mrs. Neale gave a velvet embroidered cover and cushion for it, for which her name is enrolled among the benefactors of St. George's Church. That velvet which, when I remember it, had lost the bloom of its complexion, will hardly have been preserved till now even by the dyer's renovating aid : and its em- broidery has long since passed through the goldsmith's crucible. Sic transit excites a * " By his order, the Reading- Pew and Pulpit " (of the Church of Lay Ion Ecclesia in the County of Huntingdon) "were a little distant from each other, and both of an equal height, for he would often say, They should neither have a precedency or priority of the other; but that Prayer and Preaching, being equally useful, might agree lite brethren, and have an equal honour and estimation." ISAAC WALTON'S LIFE OP MB. GEORGE HERBERT. more melancholy feeling in me when a recollection like this arises in my mind, than even the "forlorn hicjacet" of a neglected tombstone. Indeed such is the softening effect of time upon those who have not been rendered obdurate and insensible by the world and the world's law, that I do not now call to mind without some emotion even that pulpit, to which I certainly bore no good will in early life, when it was my fortune to hear from it so many somniferous discourses; and to bear away from it, upon pain of dis- pleasure in those whose displeasure to me was painful, so many texts, chapter and verse, few or none of which had been im- proved to my advantage. " Public ser- mons" (hear! hear! for Martin Luther speaketh !) " public sermons do very little edify children, who observe and learn but little thereby. It is more needful that they be taught and well instructed with diligence in schools ; and at home that they be orderly heard and examined in what they have learned. This way profiteth much; it is indeed very wearisome, but it is very neces- sary." May I not then confess that no turn of expression however felicitous no col- location of words however emphatic and beautiful no other sentences whatsoever, although rounded, or pointed for effect with the most consummate skill, have ever given me so much delight, as those dear phrases which are employed in winding up a ser- mon, when it is brought to its long-wished- for close. It is not always, nor necessarily thus ; nor ever would be so if these things were ordered as they might and ought to be. Hugh Latimer, Bishop Taylor, Robert South, John Wesley, Robert. Hall, Bishop Jebb, Bishop Heber, Christopher Benson, your hearers felt no such tedium! when you reached that period it was to them like the cessation of a strain of music, which while it lasted had rendered them insensible to the lapse of time. " I would not," said Luther, " have preachers torment their hearers and detain them with long and tedious preaching." THE DOCTOR. Ill CHAPTER XLYH. DONCASTRIANA. GDl's DEATH. SEARCH FOB HIS TOMBSTONE IN INGLETON CHCKCH- YABD. Go to the dull church-yard, and see Those hillocks of mortality, Where proudest man is only found By a small hillock in the ground. TIXALL POETRY. THE first years of Daniel's abode in Don- caster were distinguished by many events of local memorability. The old Friar's bridge was taken down, and a new one with one large arch built in its stead. Turnpikes were erected on the roads to Saltsbrook and to Tadcaster; and in 1742 Lord Seinple's regiment of Highlanders marched through the town, being the first soldiers without breeches who had ever been seen there since breeches were in use. In 1746 the Mansion House was begun, next door to Peter Hopkins's, and by no means to his comfort while the work was going on, nor indeed after it was completed, its effect upon his chimneys having hereto- fore been noticed. The building was inter- rupted by the rebellion. An army of six thousand English and Hessians was then encamped upon Wheatley Hills ; and a Hessian general dying there, was buried in St. George's Church ; from whence his leaden coffin was stolen by the grave- digger. Daniel had then completed his twenty- second year. Every summer he paid a month's visit to his parents ; and those were happy days, not the less so to all parties because his second home had become almost as dear to him as his first. Guy did not live to see the progress of his pupil ; he died a few months after the lad had been placed at Doncaster, and the delight of Daniel's first return was overclouded by this loss. It was a severe one to the elder Daniel, who lost in the Schoolmaster his only intellectual companion. I have sought in vain for Richard Guy's tombstone in Ingleton church-yard.* That * " Grave-stones tell truth scarce forty years." SIB T. BROWNE'S HYDRIATAPHIA. there is one there can hardly, I think, be doubted ; for if he left no relations who regarded him, nor perhaps effects enough of his own to defray this last posthumous and not necessary expense ; and if Thomas Gent of York, who published the old poem of Flodden Field from his transcript, after his death, thought he required no other monu- ment ; Daniel was not likely to omit this last tribute of respect and affection to his friend. But the church-yard, which, when his mortal remains were deposited there, accorded well with its romantic site, on a little eminence above the roaring torrent, and with the then retired character of the village, and with the solemn use to which it was consecrated, is now a thickly-peopled burial-ground. Since their time, manufac- tures have been established in Ingleton, and though eventually they proved unsuccessful, and were consequently abandoned, yet they continued long enough in work largely to increase the population of the church-yard. Amid so many tombs the stone which marked poor Guy's resting-place might escape even a more diligent search than mine. Nearly a century has elapsed since it was set up : in the course of that time its inscription not having been re-touched, must have become illegible to all but an antiquary's poring and practised eyes ; and perhaps to them also unless aided by his tracing tact, and by the conjectural supply of connecting words, syllables, or letters ; indeed, the stone itself has probably become half in- terred, as the earth around it has been disturbed and raised. Time corrodes our epitaphs, and buries our very tombstones. Returning pensively from my unsuccessful search in the church-yard, to the little inn at Ingleton, I found there, upon a sampler, worked in 1824 by Elizabeth Brown, aged 9, and framed as an ornament for the room which I occupied, some lines in as moral a strain of verse as any which I had that day perused among the tombs. And I tran- scribed them for preservation, thinking it not improbable that they had been originally composed by Richard Guy, for the use of his female scholars, and handed down for a 112 THE DOCTOR. like purpose, from one generation to an- other. This may be only a fond imagina- tion, and perhaps it might not have occurred to me at another time ; but many compo- sitions have been ascribed in modern as well us ancient times, and indeed daily are so, to more celebrated persons, upon less likely grounds. These are the verses : Jesus permit thy gracious name to stand As the first effort of an infant's hand ; And as her fingers on the sampler move, Engage her tender heart to seek thy love ; With thy dear children may she have a part, And write thy name thyself upon her heart. CHAPTER XL VIII. A FATHER'S MISGIVINGS CONCERNING HIS SON'S DESTINATION. PETER HOPKINS's GENEROSITY. DANIEL IS SENT ABROAD TO GRADUATE IN MEDICINE. Heaven is the magazine wherein He puts Both good and evil ; Prayer's the key that shuts And opens this great treasure : 'tis a key Whose wards are Faith and Hope and Charity. Wouldst thou prevent a judgment due to sin ? Turn but the key, and thou may'st lock it in. Or wouldst thou have a blessing fall upon thee ? Open the door, and it will shower on thee ! QUARLES. THE elder Daniel saw in the marked im- provement of his son at every yearly visit more and more cause to be satisfied with himself for having given him such a desti- nation, and to thank Providence that the youth was placed with a master whose kind- ness and religious care of him might truly be called fatherly. There was but one con- sideration which sometimes interfered with that satisfaction, and brought with it a sense of uneasiness. The Doves, from time imme- morial, had belonged to the soil as fixedly as the soil had belonged to them. Generation after generation they had moved in the same contracted sphere, their wants and wishes being circumscribed alike within their own few hereditary acres. Pride, under what ever form it may show itself, is of the Devil; and though Family Pride may not be its most odious manifestation, even that child bears a sufficiently ugly likeness of its father. But Family Feeling is a very dif- ferent thing, and may exist as strongly in humble as in high life. Naboth was as much attached to the vineyard, the inheri- tance of his fathers, as Ahab could be to the throne which had been the prize, and the reward, or punishment, of his father Omri's ambition. This feeling sometimes induced a doubt in Daniel whether affection for his son had not made him overlook his duty to his fore- fathers ; whether the fixtures of the land are not happier, and less in the way of evil, than the moveables : whether he had done right in removing the lad from that station of life in which he was born, in which it had pleased God to place him ; divorcing him, as it were, from his paternal soil, and cut- ting off the entail of that sure independence, that safe contentment, which his ancestors had obtained and preserved for him, and transmitted to his care to be in like manner by him preserved and handed down. The latent poetry which there was in the old man's heart made him sometimes feel as if the fields and the brook, and the hearth and the graves, reproached him for having done this ! But then he took shelter in the re- flection that he had consulted the boy's true welfare, by giving him opportunities of stor- ing and enlarging his mind ; that he had placed him in the way of intellectual ad- vancement, where he might improve the talents which were committed to his charge, both for his own benefit and for that of his fellow-creatures. Certain he was that whether he had acted wisely or not, he had meant well. He was conscious that his determination had not been made without much and anxious deliberation, nor without much and earnest prayer ; hitherto, he saw, that the blessing which he prayed for had followed it, and he endeavoured to make his heart rest in thankful and pious hope that that blessing would be continued. "Wouldst thou know," says Quarles, " the lawfulness of the action which thou desirest to under- take, let thy devotion recommend it to divine blessing. If it be lawful tl-.ou shalt THE DOCTOR. 113 perceive thy heart encouraged by thy. prayer ; if unlawful, thou shalt find thy prayer discouraged by thy heart. That action is not warrantable which either blushes to beg a blessing, or, having suc- ceeded, dares not present a thanksgiving." Daniel might safely put his conduct to this test ; and to this test, in fact, his own healthy and uncorrupted sense of religion led him, though probably he had never read these golden words of Quarles the Em- bleruist. It was, therefore, with no ordinary de- light that our good Daniel received a letter from his son, asking permission to go to Ley den, in conformity with his Master's wishes, and there prosecute his studies long enough to graduate as a Doctor in medi- cine. Mr. Hopkins, he said, would gene- rously take upon himself the whole expense, having adopted him as his successor, and almost as a son ; for as such he was treated in all respects, both by him and by his mis- tress, who was one of the best of women. And, indeed, it appeared that Mr. Hopkins had long entertained this intention, by the care which he had taken to make him keep up and improve the knowledge of Latin which he had acquired under Mr. Guy. The father's consent, as might be sup- posed, was thankfully given ; and accord- ingly Daniel Dove, in the twenty-third year of his age, embarked from Kingston- upon-Hull for Rotterdam, well provided by the care and kindness of his benevolent master with letters of introduction and of credit ; and still better provided with those religious principles which, though they can- not ensure prosperity in this world, ensure to us things of infinitely greater moment, good conduct, peace of mind, and the ever- lasting reward of the righteous. CHAPTER XLIX. CONCERNING THE INTEREST WHICH DANIEL THE ELDER TOOK IN THE DUTCH WAR, AND MORE ESPECIALLY IN THE SIEGE AND PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERY OF LEYDEN. Glory to Thee in thine omnipotence, O Lord who art our shield and our defence, And dost dispense, As spemeth best to thine unerring will, (Which passe 1 h mortal sense) The lot of Victory still ; Edging sometimes with might the sword unjust ; And bowing to the dust The rightful cause, that so such seeming ill May thine appointed purposes fulfil ; Sometimes, as in this late auspicious hour For which our hymns we raise, Making the wicked feel thy present power ; Glory to thee and praise, Almighty God, by whom our strength was given ! Glory to Thee, O Lord of Earth and Heaven I SOUTHEY. THERE were two portions of history with which the elder Daniel was better acquainted than most men, that of Edward the Third's reign, and that of the Wars in the Nether- lands down to the year 1608. Upon both subjects he was homo unius libri ; such a man is proverbially formidable at his own weapon ; and the book with which Johnson immortalised Osborne the bookseller, by knocking him down with it, was not a more formidable folio than either of those from which Daniel derived this knowledge. Now of all the events in the wars of the Low Countries, there was none which had so strongly affected his imagination as the siege of Leyden. The patient fortitude of the besieged, and their deliverance, less by the exertions of man, (though no human exertions were omitted,) than by the special mercy of Him whom the elements obey, and in whom they had put their trust, were in the strong and pious mind of Daniel, things of more touching interest than the tragedy of Haarlem, or the wonders of military science and of courage displayed at the siege of Antwerp. Who indeed could forget the fierce answer of the Leydeners when they were, for the last time, summoned to surrender, that the men of Leyden would never surrender while they had one arm left 114 THE DOCTOR. to eat, and another to fight with ! And the not less terrible reply of the Burgemeester Pieter Adriaanzoon Vander Werf, to some of the townsmen when they represented to him the extremity of famine to which they were reduced ; " I have sworn to defend this city," he made answer, " and by God's help I mean to keep that oath ! but if my death can help ye men, here is my body ! cut it in pieces, and share it among ye as far as it will go." And who without partaking in the hopes and fears of the contest, almost as if it were still, at issue, can peruse the details of that amphibious battle (if such an expression may be allowed) upon the inun- dated country, whep, in the extremity of their distress, and at a time when the Spa- niards said that it was as impossible for the Hollanders to save Leyden from their power, as it was for them to pluck the stars from heaven, " a great south wind, which they might truly say came from the grace of God," set in with such a spring tide, that in the course of eight-and-forty hours, the inundation rose half a foot, thus rendering the fields just passable for the flat-bottomed boats which had been provided for that service ! A naval battle, among the trees ; where the besieged, though it was fought within two miles of their walls, could see nothing because of the foliage ; and amid such a labyrinth of dykes, ditches, rivers and fortifications, that when the besiegers retired from their palisades and sconces, the conquerors were not aware of their own success, nor the besieged of their deliver- ance! " In this delivery," says the historian, " and in every particular of the enterprise, doubtless all must be attributed to the mere providence of God, neither can man chal- lenge any glory therein ; for without a miracle all the endeavours of the Protestants had been as wind. But God who is always good, would not give way to the cruelties wherewith the Spaniards threatened this town, with all the insolencies whereof they make profession in the taking of towns (although they be by composition) without any respect of humanity or honesty. And there is not any man but will confess with me, if he be not some atheist, or epicure, (who maintain that all things come by chance,) that this delivery is a work which belongs only unto God. For if the Spa- niards had battered the town but with four cannons only, they had carried it, the people being so weakened with famine, as they could not endure any longer : besides a part of them were ill affected, and very many of their best men were dead of the plague. And for another testimony that it was God only who wrought, the town was no sooner delivered, but the wind which was south-west, and had driven the water out of the sea into the country, turned to north- east, and did drive it back again into the sea, as if the south-west wind had blown those three days only to that effect ; where- fore they might well say that both the winds and the sea had fought for the town of Leyden. And as for the resolution of the States of Holland to drown the country, and to do that which they and their Prince, together with all the commanders, captains and soldiers of the army shewed in this sea- course, together with the constancy and resolution of the besieged to defend them- selves, notwithstanding so many miseries which they suffered, and so many promises and threats which were made unto them, all in like sort proceeded from a divine instinct." In the spirit of thoughtful feeling that this passage breathes, was the whole history of that tremendous struggle perused by the elder Daniel; and Daniel the son was so deeply imbued with the same feeling, that if he had lived till the time of the Peninsular War, he would have looked upon the condi- tion to which Spain was reduced, as a con- sequence of its former tyranny, and as an awful proof how surely, soon or late, the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children. Oh that all history were regarded in this spirit ! " Even such as are in faith most strong, of zeal most ardent, should not," says one of the best and wisest of Theolo- gians, " much mispend their time in com- THE DOCTOR. 115 paring the degenerate fictions, or historical relations of times ancient or modern, with the everlasting truth. For though this method could not add much increase either to their faith or zeal, yet would it doubt- less much avail for working placid and mild affections. The very penmen of Sacred Writ themselves were taught patience, and instructed in the ways of God's providence, by their experience of such events as the course of time is never barren of; not always related by canonical authors, nor immediately testified by the Spirit; but ofttimes believed upon a moral certainty, or such a resolution of circumstances con- current into the first cause or disposer of all affairs as we might make of modern acci- dents, were we otherwise partakers of the Spirit, or would we mind heavenly matters as much as earthly." CHAPTER L. P. I. VOYAGE TO ROTTERDAM AND LEYDEN. THE AUTHOR CANNOT TARRY TO DESCRIBE THAT CITY. WHAT HAPPENED THERE TO DANIEL DOVE. He took great content, exceeding delight in that his voyage. As who doth not that shall attempt the like ? For peregrination charms our senses with such unspeak- able and sweet variety, that some count him unhappy that never travelled, a kind of prisoner, and pity his case that from his cradle to his old age he beholds the same still ; still, still, the same, the same ! BURTON. "WHY did Dan remain in ships?" says Deborah the Prophetess in that noble song, which, if it had been composed in Greek instead of Hebrew, would have made Pindar hide his diminished head, or taught him a loftier strain than even he has reached in I his eagle nights "Why did Dan remain in ships?" said the Prophetess. Our Daniel during his rough passage from the Humber to the Maese, thought that nothing should l make him do so. Yet when all danger, real or imaginary, was over, upon that deep Where Proteus' herds and Neptune's ores do keep, Where all is ploughed, yet still the pasture's green. The ways are found, and yet no paths are seen : " B. JONSON : Neptune's Triumph. when all the discomforts and positive suffer- ings of the voyage were at an end ; and when the ship. Quitting her fairly of the injurious seat, had entered the smooth waters of that stately river, and was gliding Into the bosom of her quiet quay f ; he felt that the delight of setting foot on shore after a sea voyage, and that too the shore of a foreign country, for the first time, is one of the few pleasures which exceed any expectation that can be formed of them. He used to speak of his landing, on a fine autumnal noon, in the well-wooded and well-watered city of Rotterdam, and of his journey along what he called the high- turnpike canal from thence to Leyden, as some of the pleasantest recollections of his life. Nothing, he said, was wanting to his enjoyment, but that there should have been some one to have partaken it with him in an equal degree. But the feeling that he was alone in a foreign land sate lightly on him, and did not continue long, young as he was, with life and hope before him, healthful of body and of mind, cheerful as the natural consequence of that health corporeal and mental, and having always much to notice and enough to do the one being an indis- pensable condition of happiness, the other a source of pleasure as long as it lasts ; and where there is a quick eye and an inquiring mind, the longest residence abroad is hardly long enough to exhaust it. No day in Daniel's life had ever passed in such constant and pleasurable excitement as that on which he made his passage from Rotterdam to Leyden, and took possession of the lodgings which Peter Hopkins's cor- respondent had engaged for him. His recep- tion was such as instantly to make him feel that he was placed with worthy people. The little apprehensions, rather than anxie- ties, which the novelty of his situation occa- sioned, the sight of strange faces with which he was to be domesticated, and the sound of a strange language, to which, harsh and uninviting as it seemed, his ear and speech t QUARI.KS. 116 THE DOCTOR. must learii to accustom themselves, did not disquiet his first night's rest. And having fallen asleep, notwithstanding the new posi- tion to which a Dutch bolster constrained him, he was not disturbed by the storks, all night Beating the air with their obstreperous beiks, (for with Ben Jonson's leave, this may much more appropriately be said of them than of the ravens), nor by the watchmen's rappers, or clap-sticks, which seem to have been in- vented in emulous imitation of the stork's instrumental performance. But you and I, Reader, can afford to make no tarriance in Leyden. I cannot remain with you here till you could see the Rector Magnificus in his magnificence. I cannot accompany you to the monument of that rash Baron who set the crown of Bohemia in evil hour upon the Elector Palatine's unlucky head. I cannot take you to the graves of Boerhaave and of Scaliger. I can- not go with you into that library of which Heinsius said, when he was Librarian there, " I no sooner set foot in it and fasten the door, but I shut out ambition, love, and all those vices of which idleness is the mother and ignorance the nurse ; and in the very lap of Eternity, among so many illustrious souls, I take my seat, with so lofty a spirit that I then pity the great who know nothing of such happiness." Plerunriue in qua si- mulac pedem posui, furibus pessulum cibdo, unibitionem autem, amorem, libidinem, Sfc. ex- cludo, quorum parens est ignavia, imperitia iiutrix ; et in ipso ceterrdtatis gremio, inter tot illustre stands there erect and rampant in menacing attitude, grinning horribly a ghastly smile, his eyes truculent, his tail in full elevation, and in action correspondent to his motto Pugno pro Patria, wielding a drawn sword in his. dreadful right paw. Dear Reader, we cannot afford time for going to Oegstgeest, though the first Church in Holland is said to have been founded there by St. Willebord, and its burial-ground is the Campo Santo of the Dutch Roman Catholics, as Bunhill Fields of the English Dissenters. Nor can I accompany thee to Xoortwyck and describe to thee its fish- ponds, its parterres, the arabesque carpet- work of its box, and the espalier walls or hedges, with the busts which were set in the archways, such as they existed when our Doctor, in his antedoctorial age, was a stu- dent at Leyden, having been kept up till that time in their old fashion by the repre- sentatives of Janus Dousa. We cannot, dear Reader, tarry to visit the gardens in that same pleasant village from which the neighbouring cities are supplied with medi- cinal plants ; where beds of ranunculuses afford, when in blossom, a spectacle which no exhibition of art could rival in splen- dour and in beauty ; and from whence rose leaves are exported to Turkey, there to have their essential oil extracted for Mahometan luxury. We must not go to see the sluices of the Rhine, which Daniel never saw, because in his time the Rhine had no outlet through these Downs. We cannot walk upon the shore at Katwyck, where it was formerly a piece of Dutch courtship for the wooer to take his mistress in his arms, carry her into the sea till he was more than knee deep, set her down upon her feet, and then bearing her out again, roll her over and over upon the sand-hills by way of drying her. We have no time for visiting that scene of the Batavian Arcadia. No, reader, I cannot tarry to show thee the curiosities of Leyden, nor to talk over its memorabilia, nor to visit THE DOCTOR. the pleasant parts of the surrounding country : though Gerard Goris says, that comme la Ville de Leide, entouree par les plaisants villages de Soeterwoude, Stompvic, Wilsveen, Tedingerbroek, Oegstgeest, Leiderdorp et Vennep, est la Centre et la Delice de toute Hollande, ainsi la Campagne d Tentour de cette celebre Ville est comme un autre Eden ou Jardin de plaisance, qui avec ses beaux attraits tellement transporte I 'attention du spectateur qiiil se trouve contraint, comme par un ravissment d'esprit, de confesser quil ii'a jamais veu pais au monde, ou Vart et la nature si bien ont pris leurs mesures pour aporter et entremeler tout ce qui peut servir a raise, a la recreation, et au profit. No, Reader, we must not linger here, Hicr, waar in Hollands heerlijkste oorden De lieve Lcnte zoeter lacht, Het schrofiend Zud, het grijnzend Noorden Ztjn' glued en strenge kou verzacht , If'aar nijverheid en blij genoegen, Waar stilte en vlijt zich samenvoegfn.* We must return to Doncaster. It would not be convenient for me to enter minutely, even if my materials were sufficient for that purpose, into the course of our student's life, from the time when he was entered among the Greenies of this famous University ; nor to describe the ceremonies which were used at his ungreening, by his associates ; nor the academical ones with which, at the termina- tion of his regular terms, his degree in medi- cine was conferred. I can only tell thee that, during his residence at Leyden, he learned with exemplary diligence whatever he was expected to learn there, and by the industrious use of good opportunities a great deal more. But, he fell in love with a Burgemeester's Daughter. CHAPTER LI. ARMS OF LEYDEN. DANIEL DOVE, M.D. A LOVE STORY, STRANGE BUT TRUE. Oye el ertrailo caso, advierte y siente ; Suceso e$ raro, mas verdadha sido. BALBIENA. THE arms of Leyden are two cross keys, * LBV DEN'S R^MP. gules in a field argent ; and having been entrusted with the power of those keys to bind and to loose, and, moreover, to bleed and to blister, to administer at his discretion pills, potions, and powders, and employ the whole artillery of the pharmacopoeia, Daniel returned to Doncaster. The papal keys convey no such general power as the keys of Leyden : they give authority over the conscience and the soul ; now it is not every man that has a conscience, or that chooses to keep one ; and as for souls, if it were not an article of faith to believe otherwise, one might conclude that the greater part of mankind had none, from the utter disregard of them which is manifested in the whole course of their dealings with each other. But bodily diseases are among the afflictions which flesh is heir to j and we are not more surely f rages consumer e nati, than we are born to consume physic also, greatly to the benefit of that profession in which Daniel Dove had now obtained his commission. But though he was now M.D. in due form, and entitled to the insignia of the pro- fessional wig, the muff, and the gold-headed cane, it was not Mr. Hopkins's intention that he should assume his title, and com- mence practice as a physician. This would have been an unpromising adventure ; whereas, on the other hand, the considera- tion which a regular education at Leyden, then the most flourishing school of medicine, would obtain for him in the vicinity, was a sure advantage. Hopkins could now pre- sent him as a person thoroughly qualified to be his successor : and if at any future time Dove should think proper to retire from the more laborious parts of his calling, and take up his rank, it would be in his power to do so. But one part of my Readers are, I sus- pect, at this time a little impatient to know something about the Burgemeester's Daugh- ter ; and I, because of the allegiance and fast fealty Which I do owe unto all womankind *, am bound to satisfy their natural and be- THE DOCTOR. coining curiosity. Not, however, in this place ; for though love has its bitters, I never will mix it up in the same chapter with physic. Daniel's passion for the Burge- rneester's Daughter must be treated of in a chapter by itself, this being a mark of re- spect due to the subject, to her beauty, and to the dignity of Mynheer, her Wei Edel, Groot, Hoogh-Achtbaer father. First, however, I must dispose of an objection. There may be readers who, though they can understand why a lady instead of telling her love, should let concealment like a worm in the bud Feed on her damask cheek, will think it absurd to believe that any man should fix his affections as Daniel did upon the Burgemeester's Daughter, on a person whom he had no hopes of obtaining, and with whom, as will presently appear, he never interchanged a word. I cannot help their incredulity. But if they will not be- lieve nit . they may perhaps believe the news- papers, wnich, about the year 1810, related the following case in point. " A short time since a curious circum- stance happened. The Rector of St. Martin's parish was sent for to pray by a gentleman of the name of Wright, who lodged in St. James's Street, Pimlico. A few days after- wards Mr. Wright's solicitor called on the Rector, to inform him that Mr. Wright was dead, and had made a codicil to his will wherein he had left him 1000Z., and Mr. Ab- bott, the Speaker of the House of Commons, 2000Z., and all his personal property and estates, deer-park and fisheries, &c. to Lady Frances Bruce Brudenell, daughter of the Earl of Ailesbury. Upon the Rector's going to Lord Ailesbury's to inform her Ladyship, the house-steward said she was married to Sir Henry Wilson of Chelsea Park, but he would go to her Ladyship and inform her of the matter. Lady Frances said she did not know any such person as Mr. Wright, but desired the Steward to go to the Rector to get the whole particulars, and say she would wait on him the next day : she did so, and found to her great astonishment that the whole was true. She afterwards went to St. James's Street, and saw Mr. Wright in his coffin ; and then she recollected him, as having been a great annoyance to her many years ago at the Opera House, where he had a box next to hers : he never spoke to her, but was continually watching her, look wherever she would, till at length she was under the necessity of requesting her friends to procure another box. The estates are from '20 to 30,OOOZ. a-year. Lady Frances intends putting all her family into mourning out of respect." Whether such a bequest ought to have been held good in law, and if so, whether it ought in conscience to have been accepted, are points upon which I should probably differ both from the Lord Chancellor, and the Lady Legatee. CHAPTER LII. SHOWING HOW THE YOUNG STUDENT FELL IN LOVE AND HOW HE MADE THE BKST USE OF HIS MISFORTUNE. // creder, danne vaghe, i cortesia, Quando colui eke scrive o chefavella, Pussa essere sospetto di bugia, Per dir qualcosa troppo rara e bella. Dunque chi ascolta questa isloria mea E non la credc frottola o novella Ma cosa vera come ella e difalto, Fa che di lui mi chiami soddisfatto. E pure che mi diate pienajeile, De la dubbiezza altrui poco mi cale. RlCCIARDETTO. DEAR Ladies, I can neither tell you the name of the Burgemeester's Daughter, nor of the B urgemeester himself. If I ever heard them they have escaped my recollection. The Doctor used to say his love for her was in two respects like the small-pox; for he took it by inoculation, and having taken it, he was secured from ever having the disease in a more dangerous form. The case was a very singular one. Had it not been so it is probable I should never have been made acquainted with it. Most men seem to consider their unsuccessful love, when it is over, as a folly which they neither like to speak of, nor to remember. THE DOCTOR. 119 Daniel Dove never was introduced to the Burgemeester's Daughter, never was in com- pany with her, and, as already has been inti- mated, never spoke to her. As for any hope of ever by any possibility obtaining a return of his affection, a devout Roman Catholic might upon much better grounds hope that Saint Ursula, or any of her Eleven Thou- sand Virgins would come from her place in Heaven to reward his devotion with a kiss. The gulph between Dives and Lazarus was not more insuperable than the distance between such an English Greeny at Leyden and a Burgemeester's Daughter. Here, therefore, dear Ladies, you cannot look to read of Le speranxe, glf affttti, La ittttafc', !c tciifrczie, > primi Scambievoli sospiri, i primi sguardi.* Nor will it be possible for me to give you Fidea di quel volto Dave appresf il sun core La prima valla a sospirar d'amore.* This I cannot do ; for I never saw her pic- ture, nor heard her features described. And most likely if I had seen her herself, in her youth and beauty, the most accurate descrip- tion that words could convey might be just as like Fair Rosamond, Helen, Rachael, or Eve. Suffice it to say that she was con^- fessedly the beauty of that city, and of those parts. But it was not for the fame of her beauty that Daniel fell in love with her : so little was there of this kind of romance in his nature, that report never raised in him the slightest desire of seeing her. Her beauty was no more than Hecuba's to him, till he saw it. But it so happened that having once seen it, he saw it frequently, at leisure, and always to the best advantage : " and so," said he, " I received the disease by inocu- lation." Thus it was. There was at Leyden an English Presbyterian Kirk for the use of the English students, and any other persons who might choose to frequent it. Daniel felt the want there of that Liturgy in the * METASIA. use of which he had been trained up : and finding nothing which could attract him to that place of worship except the use of his own language, which, moreover, was not used by the preacher in any way to his edification, he listened willingly to the ad- vice of the good man with whom he boarded, and this was, that, as soon as he had acquired a slight knowledge of the Dutch tongue, he should, as a means of improving himself in it, accompany the family to their parish church. Now this happened to be the very church which the Burgemeester and his family attended : and if the allotment of pews in that church had been laid out by Cupid himself, with the fore-purpose of catching Daniel as in a pitfall, his position there in relation to the Burgemeester's Daughter could not have been more exactly fixed. " God forgive me ! " said he ; " for every Sunday while she was worshipping her Maker, I used to worship her." But the folly went no farther than this; it led him into no act of absurdity, for he kept it to himself ; and he even turned it to some advantage, or rather it shaped for itself a useful direction, in this way : having frequent and unobserved opportunity of observing her lovely face, the countenance became fixed so perfectly in his mind, that even after the lapse of forty years, he was sure, he said, that if he had possessed a painter's art, he could have produced her likeness. And having her beauty thus im- pressed upon his imagination, any other ap- peared to him only as a foil to it, during that part of his life when he was so circum- stanced that it would have been an act of imprudence for him to run in love. I smile to think how many of my readers, when they are reading this chapter aloud in a domestic circle, will bring up at the ex- pression of running in love; like a stage- coachman, who, driving at the smooth and steady pace of nine miles an hour on a macadamised road, comes upon some acci- dental obstruction only just in time to check the horses. Amorosa who flies into love ; and Ama- 120 THE DOCTOR. tura who flutters as if she were about to do the same ; and Amoretta who dances into it, (poor creatures, God help them all three !) and Amanda, Heaven bless her! who will be led to it gently and leisurely along the path of discretion, they all make a sud- den stop at the words. CHAPTER LIII. P. I. OP THE VARIOUS WATS OF GETTING IN LOVE. A CHAPTER CONTAINING SOME USEFUL OBSERVATIONS, AND SOME BEAUTIFUL POETRY. Let cavillers know, that as the Lord John answered the Queen in that Italian Guazzo, an old, a grave discreet man is fittest to discourse of love-matters ; because he hath likely more experience, observed more, hath a more staid judgement, can better discern, resolve, discuss, advise, give better cautions and more solid precepts, better inform his auditors in such a subject, and, by reason of his riper years, sooner divert. BURTON. SLIPS of the tongue are sometimes found very inconvenient by those persons who, owing to some unlucky want of correspond- ence between their wits and their utterance, say one thing when they mean to say another, or bolt out something which the slightest degree of forethought would have kept un- said. But more serious mischief arises from that misuse of words which occurs in all in- accurate writers. Many are the men, who merely for want of understanding what they say, have blundered into heresies and erro- neous assertions of every kind, which they have afterwards passionately and perti- naciously defended, till they have established themselves in the profession, if not in the belief, of some pernicious doctrine or opinion, to their own great injury and that of their deluded followers, and of the common- wealth. There may be an opposite fault ; for in- deed upon the agathokakological globe there are opposite qualities always to be found in parallel degrees, north and south of the equator. A man may dwell upon words till he be- comes at length a mere precisian in speech. He may think of their meaning till he loses sight of all meaning, and they appear as dark and mysterious to him as chaos and outer night. "Death! Grave!" exclaims Goethe's suicide, " I understand not the words ! " and so he who looks for its quin- tessence might exclaim of every word in the dictionary. They who cannot swim should be con- tented with wading in the shallows : they who can may take to the deep water, no matter how deep, so it be clear. But let no one dive in the mud. I said that Daniel fell in love with the Burgemeester's Daughter, and I made use of the usual expression because there it was the most appropriate : for the thing was accidental. He himself could not have been more surprised if, missing his way in a fog, and supposing himself to be in the Breede- straat of Leyden, where there is no canal, he had fallen into the water; nor would he have been more completely over head and ears at once. A man falls in love, just as he falls down stairs. It is an accident, perhaps, and very probably a misfortune ; something which he neither intended, nor foresaw, nor appre- hended. But when he runs in love it is as when he runs in debt ; it is done knowingly and intentionally ; and very often rashly, and foolishly, even if not ridiculously, miser- ably, and ruinously. Marriages that are made up at watering- places are mostly of this running sort ; and there may be reason to think that they are even less likely to lead to I will not say happiness, but to a very humble degree of contentment, than those which are a plain business of bargain and sale ; for into these latter a certain degree of prudence enters on both sides. But there is a distinction to be made here : the man who is married for mere worldly motives, without a spark of affection on the woman's part, may never- theless- get, in every worldly sense of the word, a good wife ; and while English women continue to be what, thank Heaven they are, he is likely to do so : but when a woman is married for the sake of her fortune, the case is altered, and the chances are five hundred THE DOCTOR. 121 to one that she marries a villain, or at best a scoundrel. Falling in love and running in love are both, as every body knows, common enough ; and yet less so than what I shall call catching love. Where the love itself is imprudent, that is to say, where there is some just prudential cause or impediment why the two parties should not be joined together in holy matrimony, there is generally some degree of culpable imprudence in catching it, because the danger is always to be appre- hended, and may in most cases be avoided. But sometimes the circumstances may be such as leave no room for censure, even when there may be most cause for com- passion ; and under such circumstances our friend, though the remembrance of the Burgemeester's daughter was too vivid in his imagination for him ever to run in love, or at that time deliberately to walk into it, as he afterwards did, under such circum- stances, I say, he took a severe affection of this kind. The story is a melancholy one, and I shall relate it not in this place. The rarest, and surely the happiest mar- riages, are between those who have grown in love. Take the description of such a love in its rise and progress, ye thousands and tens of thousands who have what is called a taste for poetry, take it in the sweet words of one of the sweetest and tenderest of English Poets; and if ye doubt upon the strength of my opinion whether Daniel deserves such praise, ask Leigh Hunt, or the Laureate, or Wordsworth, or Charles Lamb. Ah ! I remember well (and how can I But evermore remember well) when first Our flame began, when scarce we knew what was The flame we felt ; when as we sat and sighed And looked upon each other, and conceived Not what we ailed, yet something we did ail ; And yet were well, and yet we were not well, And what was our disease we could not tell. Then would we kiss, then sigh, then look : and thus In that first garden of our simpleness We spent our childhood. But when years began To reap the fruit of knowledge, ah how then Would she with graver looks, with sweet stern brow, Check my presumption and my forwardness ; Yet still would pive me flowers, still would me show What she would have me, yet not have me know. Take also the passage that presently follows this ; it alludes to a game which has long been obsolete, but some fair reader I doubt not will remember the lines when she dances next. And when in sport with other company Of nymphs and shepherds we have met abroad, How would she steal a look, and watch mine eye Which way it went ? And when at Barley-break It came unto my turn to rescue her, With what an earnest, swift and nimble pace Would her affection make her feet to run, And further run than to my hand ! her race Had no stop but my bosom, where no end. And when we were to break again, how late And loth her trembling hand would part with mine ; And with how slow a pace would she set forth To meet the encountering party who contends To attain her, scarce affording him her fingers' ends 1 * CHAPTER LIV. P. I. MORE CONCERNING LOVE AND MARRIAGE, AND MARRIAGE WITHOUT LOVE. Nay, Cupid, pitch thy trammel where thou please, Thou canst not fail to catch such fish as these. QUARLES. WHETHER chance or choice have most to do in the weighty concerns of love and matri- mony, is as difficult a question, as whether chance or skill have most influence upon a game at backgammon. Both enter into the constitution of the game ; and choice will always have some little to do with love, though so many other operating motives may be combined with it, that it sometimes bears a very insignificant part : but from marriage it is too frequently precluded on the one side, unwilling consent, and sub- mission to painful circumstances supplying its place ; and there is one sect of Christians (the Moravians), who, where they hold to the rigour of their institute, preclude it on both sides. They marry by lot ; and if divorces ever take place among them, the scandal has not been divulged to the profaner world. Choice, however, is exercised among all other Christians; or where not exercised, it is presumed by a fiction of law or of divinity, call it which you will. The husband even insists upon it in China where the pig is bought in a poke ; for when pigsnie arrives and the * HYMEN'S TRIUMPH. 122 THE DOCTOR. purchaser opens the close sedan chair in which she has been conveyed to his house, if he does not like her looks at first sight, he shuts her up again and sends her back. Bat when a bachelor who has no par- ticular attachment, makes up his mind to take unto himself a wife, for those reasons to which Uncle Toby referred the Widow Wadman as being to be found in the Book of Common Prayer, how then to choose is a matter of much more difficulty, than one who has never considered it could suppose. It would not be paradoxical to assert that in the sort of choice which such a person makes, chance has a much greater part than either affection or judgment. To set about seek- ing a wife is like seeking one's fortune, and the probability of finding a good one in such a quest is less, though poor enough, Heaven knows, in both cases. The bard has sung, God never form'd a soul Without its own peculiar mate, to meet Its wandering half, when ripe to crown the whole Bright plan of bliss, most heavenly, most compleat ! But thousand evil things there are that hate To look on happiness ; these hurt, impede, And leagued with time, space, circumstance and fate, Keep kindred heart from heart, to pine and pant and bleed. And as the dove to far Palmyra flying, From where her native founts of Antioch beam, Weary, exhausted, longing, panting, sighing, Lights sadly at the desert's bitter stream ; So many a soul o'er life's drear desert faring, Love's pure congenial spring unfound, unquaff 'd, Suffers, recoils, then thirsty and despairing Of what it would, descends and sips the nearest draught.* So sings Maria del Occidente, the most impassioned and most imaginative of all poetesses. According to the new revelation of the Saint Simonians, every individual human being has had a fitting mate created, the one and only woman for every individual man, and the one and only man for every in- dividual woman ; and unless the persons so made, fitted and intended for each other, meet and are joined together in matrimonial bonds, there can be no perfect marriage for either, that harmonious union for which they * ZOPHIEL. were designed being frustrated for both. Read the words of the Chief of the New Hierarchy himself, Father Bazard : II uij a sur la terre pour chaque hommc qninic seule femme, et pour chaque fcmrne qu'un seul homme, qui soient destines d former dans le manage Funion harmonique du couple. Grace aux lumieres de cette revelation, les individus les plus avarices peuvent (