These examples, and many more which might be added, are sufficient, in proof that ventriloquism is the art of mimicry, an imitation applied to sounds of every description, and attended with circumstances which produce an entertaining deception, and lead the hearers to imagine that the voice proceeds from different situations. When distant low voices are to be imitated, the articulation may be given with sufficient distinctness, without moving the lips, or altering the countenance. It was by a supposed supernatural voice of this kind, from a ventriloquist, that the famous musical small-coal man, Thomas Britton, received a warning of his death, which so greatly affected him, that he did not survive the affright.
The following quotation from Richerand’s Physiology will be sufficient to give the reader a further idea of the mechanism of this singular art. “At first,” says Richerand, “I had conjectured that a great portion of the air driven out by expiration did not pass out by the mouth and nostrils, but was swallowed and carried into the stomach, reflected in some part of the digestive canal, and gave rise to a real echo; but after having attentively observed this curious phenomenon, in Mr. Fitz-James, who represents it in its greatest perfection, I was enabled to convince myself that the name ventriloquism is by no means applicable, since the whole of its mechanism consists in a slow gradual expiration, drawn in such a way that the artist either makes use of the influence exerted by volition over the muscles or parietis of the thorax, or that he keeps the epiglottis down by the base of the tongue, the apex of which is not carried beyond the dental arches.
“He always makes a strong inspiration just before this long expiration, and thus conveys a considerable mass of air into the lungs, the exit of which he afterwards manages with such address. Therefore, repletion of the stomach greatly incommodes the talent of Mr. Fitz-James, by preventing the diaphragm from descending sufficiently to admit of a dilatation of the thorax, in proportion to the quantity of air that the lungs should receive. By accelerating or retarding the exit of the air, he can imitate different voices, and induce his auditors to a belief that the interlocutors of a dialogue, which is kept up by himself alone, are placed at different distances; and this illusion is the more complete in proportion to the perfection of his peculiar talent. No man possesses, to sucha degree as Mr. Fitz-James, the art of deceiving persons who are least liable to delusion, he can carry his execution to five or six different tones, pass rapidly from one to another, as he does when representing an animated dispute in the midst of a popular assembly.”
Some persons are of opinion that the witch of Endor was a ventriloquist, and that she practised this art before King Saul, and deceived him in the resurrection of Samuel; the present writer, however, does not vouch for this opinion.
Another very extraordinary acquirement, and which the present writer has been witness to, is,Sword-swallowing.
This surprising act is performed by the Indian Jugglers; the following account of which, is extracted from Forbes’s Oriental Memoirs.
“I have elsewhere mentioned some feats of the Indian Jugglers: at Zinore I saw one which surpassed every thing of the kind I had before witnessed, I mean the swallowing a sword up to the hilt. Had I not afterwards met with the same set on the island of Salsette, exhibiting before the English chief at Tannah, I should have doubted the evidence of my senses. I witnessed the fact more than once, and am convinced there was no deception. Finding my tale generally disbelieved in Europe, I suppressed it; but having since read a clear and satisfactory account of this extraordinary transaction, drawn up by Mr. Johnson, surgeon in the navy, who, in the year 1804, was an eye-witness of this performance, and having described it as a professional man, I shall transcribe the account from his memoir:—
“‘Having been visited by one of these conjurers, I resolved to see clearly his mode of performing this operation; and for that purpose ordered him to seat himself on the floor of the veranda. The sword he intended to use has some resemblance to a common spit in shape, except at the handle, which is merely a part of the blade itself, rounded and elongated into a little rod. It is from twenty-two to twenty-six inches in length, about an inch in breadth, and about one-fifth of an inch in thickness; the edges and point are blunt, being rounded, and of the same thickness as the rest of the blade; it is of iron or steel, smooth, and a little bright. Having satisfied himself with respect to the sword, by attempting to bend it; and by striking it against a stone, I firmly grasped it by the handle, and ordered him to proceed. He first took a small phial of oil, and with one of his fingers rubbed a little of it over the surface of the instrument; then, stretching up his neck as much as possible, and bending himself a little backwards, he introduced the point of it into his mouth, and pushed it gently down his throat, until myhand, which was on the handle, came in contact with his lips. He then made a sign to me with one of his hands, to feel the point of the instrument between his breast and navel: which I could do, by bending him a little more backwards, and pressing my fingers on his stomach, he being a very thin and lean fellow. On letting go the handle of the sword, he instantly fixed on it a little machine that spun round, and disengaged a small fire-work, which encircling his head with a blue flame, gave him, as he then sat, a truly diabolical appearance. On withdrawing the instrument, several parts of its surface were covered with blood, which shewed that he was still obliged to use a degree of violence in the introduction.
“‘I was at first a good deal surprised at this transaction altogether; but when I came to reflect a little upon it, there appeared nothing at all improbable, much less impossible, in the business. He told me, on giving him a trifle, that he had been accustomed, from his early years, to introduce at first small elastic instruments down his throat, and into his stomach; that by degrees he had used larger ones, until at length he was able to use the present iron sword.’” Oriental Memoirs, vol. ii. pp. 515-517.
Two of these jugglers have lately visited England, and performed the above exploit, with many others, almost equally surprising, to the satisfaction of crowded audiences.
We may learn from various instances in this chapter the value of perseverance; this will overcome difficulties, which at first appear insuperable; and it is amazing to consider, how great and numerous obstacles may be removed by a continual attention to any particular point. By such attention and perseverance, what may not man effect! Any man, unless he be an absolute idiot, may by these means raise himself to excellence in some branch or other; and what is best of all, by divine assistance, and by unwearied and keen application, he may resist temptation, conquer the evil principle, rise superior to all the difficulties and trials of life, excel in wisdom and goodness, and thus be fitted for a better country, when death summons him away from the present world.
—————————————Man must soar.An obstinate activity within,An insuppressive spring, will toss him up,In spite of fortune’s load. Not kings alone,Each villager has his ambition too;No sultan prouder than his fetter’d slave.Slaves build their little Babylons of straw,Echo the proud Assyrian, in their hearts,And cry—“Behold the wonders of my might!”And why? Because immortal as their lord;And souls immortal must for ever heaveAt something great; the glitter, or the gold;The praise of mortals, or the praise of heav’n.Young.
CURIOSITIES RESPECTING MAN.—(Continued.)
Instances of Extraordinary Gluttony—Instances of Extraordinary Fasting—Wonders of Abstinence—Sleep Walking—Sleeping Woman of Dunninald—Instances of Extraordinary Dreams—Poetical, Grammatical, and Scientific Deaths—Anthropophagi, or Men-Eaters—Account of a Wild Man.
Instances of Extraordinary Gluttony—Instances of Extraordinary Fasting—Wonders of Abstinence—Sleep Walking—Sleeping Woman of Dunninald—Instances of Extraordinary Dreams—Poetical, Grammatical, and Scientific Deaths—Anthropophagi, or Men-Eaters—Account of a Wild Man.
Instances of Extraordinary Gluttony.
Habitual gluttons may be reckoned among the monsters of nature, and even punishable for endeavouring to bring a famine into the places where they live. King James I. when a man was presented to him who could eat a whole sheep at one meal, asked, “What work could he do more than another man?” and being answered, “He could not do so much,” said, “Hang him, then; for it is unfit a man should live, that eats as much as twenty men, and cannot do so much as one.”
The emperor Clodius Albinus devoured more than a bushel of apples at once. He ate 500 figs to his breakfast, 100 peaches, 10 melons, 20lbs. of grapes, 100 gnat-snappers, and 400 oysters.
Hardi Canute, the last of the Danish kings in England, was so great a glutton, that an historian calls him Bocca di Porco, “Swine’s-mouth.” His tables were covered four times a day with the most costly viands that either the air, sea, or land, could furnish; and as he lived he died; for, revelling at a banquet at Lambeth, he fell down dead.
One Phagon, in the reign of Aurelianus, at one meal, ate a whole boar, 100 loaves of bread, a sheep, and a pig, and drank above three gallons of wine.
One Mallet, a counsellor at law, in the reign of Charles I. ate at one time a dinner provided in Westminster for 30 men. His practice not being sufficient to supply him with better meat, he fed generally on offals, ox livers, hearts, &c. He lived to near 60 years of age, but during the seven last years of his life ate as moderately as other men.
Among the many accounts of extraordinary eaters, there are, perhaps, none that have exceeded those of Nicholas Wood, of Harrison, in Kent, related in Fuller’s Worthies, p. 86, whose enormous appetite appears to exceed all probability.
He ate at one meal a whole sheep, of sixteen shillings price, raw; at another time, thirty dozen of pigeons. At Sir William Sidley’s, in the same county, he ate as much victualsas would have sufficed thirty men. At Lord Wotton’s mansion-house, in Kent, he devoured, at one dinner, 84 rabbits, which, at the rate of half a rabbit a man, would have served 168 men. He ate to his breakfast 18 yards of black-pudding. He devoured at one meal a whole hog; and after it, being accommodated with fruit, he ate three pecks of damsons.
Gluttony is a most degrading vice. Be sober; be temperate; be virtuous; for
Health consists with temperance alone.And peace, O Virtue! peace is all thy own.Pope.
We shall, with the readers permission, now introduce someExtraordinary Instances of Fasting.
A full account of a very uncommon case is given in the Phil. Trans, vol. lxvii. part I.Janet M‘Leod, an inhabitant in the parish of Kincardine, in Ross-shire, continued healthy till she was fifteen years of age, when she had a pretty severe epileptic fit; after this she had an interval of health for four years, and then another epileptic fit, which continued a whole day and a night. A few days afterwards she was seized with a fever, which continued with violence several weeks, and from which she did not perfectly recover for some months. At this time she lost the use of her eyelids; so that she was under the necessity of keeping them open with the fingers of one hand, whenever she wanted to look about her. In other respects she continued in pretty good health; only she periodically spit up blood in pretty large quantities, and at the same time it flowed from the nose. This discharge continued several years; but at last it ceased; and soon after she had a third epileptic fit, and after that a fever, from which she recovered slowly. Six weeks after the crisis, she stole out of the house unknown to her parents, who were busied in their harvest work, and bound the sheaves of a ridge before she was observed. In the evening she took to her bed, complaining much of herheart(probably meaning herstomach) and her head. From that time she never rose for five years, but was occasionally lifted out of bed. She seldom spoke a word, and took so little food, that it seemed scarcely sufficient to support a sucking infant. Even this small quantity was taken by compulsion; and at last, about Whitsunday, 1763, she totally refused every kind of food or drink. Her jaws now became so fast locked, that it was with the greatest difficulty her father was able to open her teeth a little, in order to admit a small quantity of gruel or whey; but of this so much generally run out at the corners of her mouth, that they could not be sensible any had beenswallowed. About this time they got some water from a noted medical spring in Brae-Mar, some of which they attempted to make her swallow, but without effect. They continued their trials, however, for three mornings; rubbing her throat with the water which ran out at the corners of her mouth. On the third morning, during the operation, she cried out, “Give me more water;” and swallowed with ease all that remained in the bottle. She spoke no more intelligibly for a year, though she continued to mutter some words, for 14 days, which her parents only understood. She continued to reject all kinds of food and drink till July, 1765. At this time her sister thought, by some signs she made, that she wanted her jaws opened; and this being done, not without violence, she called intelligibly for some liquid, and drank with ease about an English pint of water. Her father then asked why she would not make some signs when she wanted to drink? To which she answered,—why should she, when she had no desire? It was now supposed that she had regained the faculty of speech; and her jaws were kept open for about three weeks, by means of a wedge. But in four or five days she became totally silent, and the wedge was removed, because it made her lips sore. She still, however, continued sensible; and when her eyelids were opened, knew every body. This could be guessed from the signs she made. By continuing their attempts to force open her jaws, two of the under fore teeth were driven out; and of this opening her parents endeavoured to avail themselves, by putting some thin nourishing drink into her mouth, but without effect, as it always returned by the corners. Sometimes they thought of thrusting a little dough of oatmeal through this gap of the teeth, which she would retain a few seconds, and then return with something like a straining to vomit, without one particle going down. Nor were the family sensible of any thing like swallowing for four years, excepting the small draught of Brae-Mar water, and an English pint of common water. For the last three years she had no natural discharge, except that once or twice a week she passed a few drops of water.
In this situation she was visited by Dr. Mackenzie, who communicated the account to the Royal Society. He found her not at all emaciated; her knees were bent, and the hamstrings tight, so that her heels were drawn up behind her body. She slept much, and was very quiet; but when awake, kept a constant whimpering like a new-born weakly infant. She never could remain a moment on her back, but always fell to one side or another; and her chin was drawn close to her breast, nor could it by any force be moved backwards. The Doctor paid his first visit in October, 1767; and five years afterwards, viz, in October, 1772, was induced to payher a second visit, by hearing that she was recovering, and had begun to eat and drink. The account given him was most extraordinary.
Her parents one day returning from their country labours, (having left their daughter fixed to her bed as usual,) were greatly surprised to find her sitting upon her hams, in a part of the house opposite to her bed-place, spinning with her mother’s distaff. All the food she took at that time was only to crumble a little oat or barley cake in the palm of her hand, as if to feed a chicken. She put little crumbs of this into the gap of her teeth; rolled them about for some time in her mouth; and then sucked out of the palm of her hand a little water, whey, or milk; and this only once or twice a day, and even that by compulsion. She never attempted to speak; her jaws were fast locked, and her eyes shut. On opening her eyelids, the balls were found to be turned up under the edge of the os frontis; her countenance was ghastly, her complexion pale, and her whole person emaciated. She seemed sensible and tractable, except in taking food. This she did with the utmost reluctance, and even cried before she yielded. The great change of her looks, Dr. Mackenzie attributed to her spinning flax on the distaff, which exhausted too much of the saliva; and therefore he recommended to her parents to confine her totally to the spinning of wool. In 1775, she was visited again, and found to be greatly improved in her looks as well as strength; her food was also considerably increased in quantity; though even then she did not take more than would be sufficient to sustain an infant of two years of age.
In theGentleman’s Magazine, for 1789, p. 1211, is recorded the death of one Caleb Elliot, a visionary enthusiast, who meant to have fasted 40 days, and actually survived 16 without food, having obstinately refused sustenance of every kind.
At the same time that we should guard against superstitious fasting, we should be cautious not to transgress the bounds of temperance. Occasional abstinence is useful and praiseworthy, and we shall now give some instances of TheWonders of Abstinence.
Many wonders are related of the effects of abstinence, in the cure of several disorders, and in protracting the term of life. The noble Venetian, Cornaro, after all imaginable means had proved vain, so that his life was despaired of at 40, recovered, and lived to near 100, by mere dint of abstinence; as he himself gives account. It is indeed surprising to what a great age the primitive Christians of the East, who retired from the persecutions into the deserts of Arabia andEgypt, lived, healthful and cheerful, on a very little food. Cassian assures us, that the common rate for 24 hours was 12 ounces of bread, and mere water; with this, St. Anthony lived 105 years; James the hermit, 104; Arsenius, tutor of the Emperor Arcadius, 123; S. Epiphanius, 115; Simeon, the Stylite, 112; and Romauld, 130. Indeed, we can match these instances of longevity at home. Buchanan writes, that one Lawrence preserved himself to 140, by force of temperance and labour; and Spottiswood mentions one Kentigern, afterwards called St. Mongah, or Mungo, who lived to 185, by the same means. Abstinence, however, is to be recommended only as it means a proper regimen; for in general it must have bad consequences, when observed without a due regard to constitution, age, strength, &c.
According to Dr. Cheyne, most of the chronical diseases, the infirmities of old age, and the short lives of Englishmen, are owing to repletion; and may be either cured, prevented, or remedied, by abstinence: but then the kinds of abstinence which ought to obtain, either in sickness or health, are to be deduced from the laws of diet and regimen. Among the brute creation, we see extraordinary instances of long abstinence. The serpent kind, in particular, bear abstinence to a wonderful degree. Rattlesnakes are reported to have subsisted many months without any food, yet still retained their vigour and fierceness. Dr. Shaw speaks of a couple of cerastes, (a sort of Egyptian serpents,) which had been kept five years in a bottle close corked, without any sort of food, unless a small quantity of sand, wherein they coiled themselves up in the bottom of the vessel, may be reckoned as such: yet when he saw them, they had newly cast their skins, and were as brisk and lively as if just taken.
But it is even natural for divers species of creatures to pass four, five, or six months’ every year, without either eating or drinking. Accordingly, the tortoise, bear, dormouse, serpent, &c. are observed regularly to retire, at those seasons, to their respective cells, and hide themselves,—some in the caverns of rocks or ruins; others dig holes under ground; others get into woods, and lay themselves up in clefts of trees; others bury themselves under water, &c. And yet these animals are found as fat and fleshy after some months’ abstinence as before.—A gentleman (Phil. Trans.No. 194.) weighed his tortoise several years successively, at its going to earth in October, and coming out again in March; and found that, of four pounds four ounces, it only used to lose about one ounce.—Indeed, we have instances of men passing several months as strictly abstinent as other creatures. In particular, the records of the Tower mention a Scotchman imprisoned for felony, and strictly watched in that fortressfor six weeks; in all which time he took not the least sustenance; for which he had his pardon. Numberless instances of extraordinary abstinence, particularly from morbid causes, are to be found in the different periodical Memoirs, Transactions, Ephemerides, &c. It is to be added, that, in most instances of extraordinary human abstinence related by naturalists, there were said to have been apparent marks of a texture of blood and humour, much like that of the animals above mentioned; though it is not an improbable opinion, that the air itself may furnish something for nutrition. It is certain, there are substances of all kinds, animal, vegetable, &c. floating in the atmosphere, which must be continually taken in by respiration. And that an animal body may be nourished thereby, is evident from the instance of vipers, which, if taken when first brought forth, and kept from every thing but air, will yet grow very considerably in a few days. The eggs of lizards, also, are observed to increase in bulk after they are produced, though there be nothing to furnish the increment but air alone, in like manner as the eggs or spawn of fish grow and are nourished by the water. And hence, say some, it is, that cooks, turnspit dogs, &c. though they eat but little, yet are usually fat.
We shall next offer the reader a few remarks onSleep-Walking.
Many instances are related of persons who were addicted to this practice. A very remarkable one has been published from a report made to the Physical Society of Lausanne, by a committee of gentlemen appointed to examine a young man who was accustomed to walk in his sleep.
The disposition to sleep-walking seems, in the opinion of this committee, to depend on a particular affection of the nerves, which both seizes and quits the patient during sleep. Under the influence of this affection, the imagination represents to him the objects that struck him while awake, with as much force as if they really affected his senses; but it does not make him perceive any of those that are actually presented to his senses, except in so far as they are connected with the dreams which engross him at the time. If, during this state, the imagination has no determined purpose, he receives the impression of objects as if he were awake; only, however, when the imagination is excited to bend its attention towards them. The perceptions obtained in this state are very accurate, and, when once received, the imagination renews them occasionally with as much force as if they were again acquired by means of the senses. Lastly, these academicians suppose, that the impressions received during this state of the senses, disappear entirely when the personawakes, and do not return till the recurrence of the same disposition in the nervous system.
Our next article is,A Curious Account of the Sleeping Woman of Dunninald, near Montrose.
The following narrative was communicated to the Royal Society of Edinburgh, by Dr. Brewster.
Margaret Lyall, aged 21, daughter of John Lyall, labourer at Dunninald, was first seized with a sleeping fit on the 27th of June, 1815, which continued to the 30th of June; next morning she was again found in a deep sleep: in this state she remained for seven days, without motion, food, or the use of any animal function. But at the end of this time, by the moving of her left hand, and by plucking at the coverlet of the bed and pointing to her mouth, a wish for food being understood, it was given her. This she took; but still remained in her lethargic state till Tuesday the 8th of August, being six weeks from the time she was seized with the lethargy, without appearing to be awake, except on the afternoon of Friday the 30th of June. During the first two weeks, her pulse was generally about 50, the third week about 60, and previous to her recovery, at 70 to 72. Though extremely feeble for some days after her recovery, she gained strength so rapidly, that before the end of August, she began to work at the harvest, on the lands of Mr. Arkley, and continued without inconvenience to perform her labour.
The account is drawn up by the clergyman of the parish, and is accompanied with the medical report of the surgeons who attended; to whose attestations are added those of Mr. Arkley, the proprietor of Dunninald, and Lyall, the father; and the statement is, in every respect, entitled to the fullest credit.
We shall proceed to someInstances of Extraordinary Dreams.
The following account is by no means intended either to restore the reign of superstition, or to induce the reader to put faith in the numberless ridiculous interpretations, given by some pretenders to divination, of the ordinary run of dreams. The absurdity of the many traditional rules, laid down by such persons; such as, that dreaming ofeggsprognosticatesanger; of thewashingof linens, forebodesflitting; of green fields,sickness; of hanging,honour; of death,marriage; of fish,children; and of raw flesh,death, &c. &c. can only be exceeded by the folly of those who put faith in such fooleries. But instances have occurred of particular persons, whose veracity cannot be doubted, having dreams of so singular a nature, and so literally and exactly fulfilled, that itmay be well to mention one or two of them, for the entertainment, at least, of the reader, if they should not contribute to his improvement.—
Mr. Richard Boyle, manufacturer, residing in Stirling, about 1781, dreamed that he saw a beautiful young woman, with a winding sheet over her arm, whose image made a deep impression on his mind. Upon telling his mother the dream, she said, you will probably marry that woman, and if you do, she will bury you. Going to Glasgow in 1783, he met with a young woman in a friend’s house, exactly resembling the person he had dreamed of; and notwithstanding the disheartening interpretation he had got, and the additional discouraging circumstance told him, that she was already engaged with another young man, was sure she was to be his wife, and did not give up his pursuit till he made her his own. The melancholy part of his dream was soon fulfilled. He lived only 15 months with her; a short, but happy period. His widow, during his life, dreamed with equal exactness of her second husband, whom she did not see till three years afterwards, when the sight of him, at church, in Montrose, disturbed her devotion so much, upon recollecting her dream, that she hardly knew a word the minister said afterwards. Within less than two months, they were introduced to each other; and within four, were married.—Another young lady had dreamed so often, and so particularly, about the gentleman who afterwards married her, that at their first meeting, she started back, as if she had seen a ghost.—The editors of the Encyclopedia Perthensis declare they knew the parties concerned in the foregoing relations. But these instances of prophetic dreams, they observe, are trifling, compared to one narrated in theWeekly Mirror, printed at Edinburgh, in 1781, and signedVerax; and which, they say, they quote the more readily, as also, from personal acquaintance with the parties, they know the narrative to be true:
“In June, 1752, Mr. Robert Aikenhead, farmer, in Denstrath, of Arnhall, in the Mearns, about 5 miles north of Brechin, and 7 from Montrose, went to a market calledTarrenty-fair, where he had a large sum of money to receive. His eldest son, Robert, a boy about 8 years of age, was sent to take care of the cattle, and, happening to lie down upon a grassy bank before sun-set, fell fast asleep. Although the boy had never been far from home, he was immediately carried in his imagination to Tarrenty market, where, he dreamed, that his father, after receiving the money, set out on his return home, and was followed all the way by two ill-looking fellows, who, when he had got to the western dykes of Inglis-Mauldy, (the seat of the then Lord Halkerton, afterwards Earl of Kintore,) and little more than a mile from home,attacked and attempted to rob him. Whereupon the boy thought he ran to his assistance, and, when he came within a gun-shot of the place, called out some people, who were just going to bed, who put the robbers to flight. He immediately awoke in a fright, and, without waiting to consider whether it was a vision or a reality, ran as fast as he could to the place he had dreamed of, and had no sooner reached it, than he saw his father in the very spot and situation he had seen in his dream, defending himself with his stick against the assassins. He therefore immediately realized his own part of the visionary scene, by roaring out,Murder!which soon brought out the people, who running up to Mr. Aikenhead’s assistance, found him victor over one of the villains, whom he had previously knocked down with a stone, after they had pulled him off his horse; but almost overpowered by the other, who repeatedly attempted to stab him with a sword; against which he had no other defence than his stick and his hands, which were considerably mangled by grasping the blade. Upon sight of the country people, the villain who had the sword ran off; but the other not being able, was apprehended and lodged in gaol. Meantime there was no small hue and cry after young Robert, whose mother missing him, and finding the cattle among the corn, was in the utmost anxiety, concluding that he had fallen into some water or peat moss. But her joy and surprise were equally great, when her husband returned with the boy, and told her how miraculously both his money and life had been preserved by his son’s dream; although she was at first startled at seeing her husband’s hands bloody.
“To those who deny the existence of a God, (adds the writer,) or the superintendence of a divine providence, the above narrative will appear as fabulous as any story in Ovid. To those who measure the greatness and littleness of events by the arbitrary rules of human pride and vanity, it will perhaps appear incredible that such a miracle should have been wrought for the preservation of the life of a country farmer. But all who found their opinions upon the unerring rule of right and truth, which assures us that a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without the permission of our heavenly Father, (and who know, that in the sight of Him, with whom there is no respect of persons or dignities, the life of the greatest monarch on earth, and that of the lowest of his subjects, are of equal value,) will laugh at such silly objections, when opposed to well-attested facts. That the above is one, could be attested upon oath, were it necessary, by Mr. and Mrs. Aikenhead, from whom I had all the particulars above narrated about 15 months ago.—Edinburgh, March 12, 1781.”—Indeed, whoever can persuade himself that such facts asare stated above, can happen by chance, may easily adopt the system of those philosophers, who tell us that the universe was formed by the fortuitous concourse of atoms.
The title of our next subject is curious,—Poetical, Grammatical, and Scientific Deaths.
The Emperor Adrian, dying, made that celebrated address to his soul, which is so happily translated by Pope, in the following words:
Vital spark of heav’nly flame,Quit, oh quit this mortal frame.Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, flying,Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,And let me languish into life.Hark! they whisper; angels say,Sister spirit, come away.What is this absorbs me quite?Steals my senses, shuts my sight?Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?Tell me, my soul, can this be death!The world recedes; it disappears!Heav’n opens on my eyes! my earsWith sounds seraphic ring:Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!O Grave! where is thy victory?O Death! where is thy sting?
Lucan, when he had his veins opened by order of Nero, expired reciting a passage from his Pharsalia, in which he has described the wound of a dying soldier. Petronius did the same thing on the same occasion.
Patris, a poet of Caen, perceiving himself expiring, composed some verses which are justly admired. In this little poem he relates a dream, in which he appeared to be placed next to a beggar, when, having addressed him in the haughty strain he would probably have employed on this side of the grave, he received the following reprimand:
“Here all are equal; now thy lot is mine!I on my dunghill, as thou art on thine.”
Des Barreaux, it is said, wrote, on his death-bed, that sonnet which is well known, and which is translated in the “Spectator.”
Margaret of Austria, when she was nearly perishing in a storm at sea, composed for herself the following epitaph in verse:
“Beneath this tomb is high-born Margaret laid,Who had two husbands, and yet died a maid.”
She was betrothed to Charles VIII. of France, who forsook her. Being next intended for the Spanish Infant, in her voyage to Spain she wrote these lines in a storm.
Roscommon, at the moment he expired, with an energy of voice (says his biographer) that expressed the most fervent devotion, uttered two lines of his own version of “Dies Iræ!”
Waller, in his last moments, repeated some lines from Virgil: and Chaucer took his farewell of all human vanities by a moral ode, entitled, “A ballad made by Geffrey Chauycer upon his dethe-bedde lying in his grete anguysse.”
“The muse that has attended my course (says the dying Gleim, in a letter to Klopstock[4]) still hovers round my steps to the very verge of the grave.” A collection of songs, composed by old Gleim on his death-bed, it is said, were intended to be published.
Chatellard, a French gentleman, beheaded in Scotland, for having loved the Queen, and even for having attempted her honour, Brantome says, would not have any other viaticum than a poem of Ronsard. When he ascended the scaffold, he took the hymns of this poet, and for his consolation read that on death; which, he says, is well adapted to conquer its fear. He preferred the poems of Ronsard to either a prayer-book or his confessor: such was his passion.
The Marquis of Montrose, when he was condemned by his judges to have his limbs nailed to the gates of four cities, the brave soldier said that, “he was sorry he had not limbs sufficient to be nailed to all the gates of the cities in Europe, as monuments of his loyalty.” As he proceeded to his execution, he put this thought into beautiful verse.
Philip Strozzi, when imprisoned by Cosmo the First, great Duke of Tuscany, was apprehensive of the danger to which he might expose his friends, (who had joined in his conspiracy against the duke,) from the confessions which the rack might extort from him. Having attempted every exertion for the liberty of his country, he considered it no crime therefore to die. He resolved on suicide. With the point of the sword, with which he killed himself, he first engraved on the mantle-piece of the chimney, this verse of Virgil:
Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor.Rise, some avenger, from our blood!
Such persons realize that beautiful fiction of the ancients, who represent the swans of Cayster singing at their death; and have been compared to the nightingale singing with a thorn on its breast.
The following anecdotes are of a different complexion: they may perhaps excite a smile. We have given them the title ofGrammatical Deaths.
Pere Bouhours was a French grammarian, who had been justly accused of paying too scrupulous an attention to theminutiæ of letters. He was more solicitous of hiswordsthan histhoughts. It is said, that when he was dying, he called out to his friends (a correct grammarian to the last,) “JeVas,ou jeVaismourir; l’un ou l’autre se dit!”
When Malherbe was dying, he reprimanded his nurse for making use of a solecism in her language! And when his confessor represented to him the felicities of a future state in low expressions, the dying critic interrupted him: “Hold your tongue,” he said, “your wretched style only makes me out of conceit with them!”
Several persons of science have died in a scientific manner.—Haller, the greatest of physicians, beheld his end approach with the utmost composure. He kept feeling his pulse to the last moment, and when he found that life was almost gone, he turned to his brother physician, and observed, “My friend, the artery ceases to beat,”—and almost instantly expired.
De Lagny, who was intended by his friends for the study of the law, having fallen on an Euclid, found it so congenial to his disposition, that he devoted himself to mathematics. In his last moments, when he retained no further recollection of the friends who surrounded his bed, one of them, perhaps to make a philosophical experiment, thought proper to ask him the square of 12; the dying mathematician instantly, and perhaps without knowing that he answered it, replied, “144.”
The following lines, from the pen of Mrs. Barbauld, in an address to the Deity, express the desires and hopes of a real Christian in the contemplation of death:
“O when the last, the closing hour draws nigh,And earth recedes before my swimming eye;When trembling on the doubtful edge of fate,I stand, and stretch my view to either state;Teach me to quit this transitory sceneWith decent triumph and a look serene;Teach me to fix my ardent hopes on high,And, having liv’d to thee, in thee to die!”
The following article is not of a pleasing description, but nevertheless proper to be inserted in “The Book of Curiosities.” It isAnthropophagi, or Men-eaters:
The Cyclops, the Lestrygons, and Scylla, are all represented in Homer as Anthropophagi, or man-eaters, and the female phantoms, Circe and the Syrens, first bewitched with a show of pleasure, and then destroyed. This, like the other parts of Homer’s poetry, had a foundation in the manners of the times preceding his own. It was still in many places the age spoken of by Orpheus,
“When men devour’d each other like the beasts,Gorging on human flesh.”
History gives us divers instances of persons driven by excess of hunger to eat their own relations. And also out of revenge and hatred, where soldiers, in the heat of battle, have been known to be carried to such an excess of rage, as to tear their enemies with their teeth.
The violence of love has sometimes produced the same effect as the excess of hatred.
Among the Essedonian Scythians, when a man’s father died, his neighbours brought him several beasts, which they killed, mixed up their flesh with that of the deceased, and made a feast.
Among the Massageti, when any person grew old, they killed him, and ate his flesh; but if the party died of sickness, they buried him, esteeming him unhappy.
Idolatry and superstition have caused the eating more human flesh, than both love and hatred put together.
There are few nations but have offered human victims to their deities; and it was an established custom to eat part of the sacrifices they offered.
It appears pretty certain, from Dr. Hawkesworth’s account of the voyages to the South Seas, that the inhabitants of New Zealand ate the bodies of their enemies. Mr. Petit has a learned dissertation on the nature and manners of the Anthropophagi. Among other things, he disputes whether or no the Anthropophagi act contrary to nature? The philosophers, Diogenes, Chrysippus, and Zeno, followed by the whole body of Stoics, held it a very reasonable thing for men to eat each other.
According to Sextus Empiricus, the first laws were those made to prevent men from eating each other, as had been done until that time.
The Greek writers represent Anthropophagi as universal before Orpheus.
Leonardus Floroventius informs us, that having fed a hog with hog’s flesh, and a dog with dog’s flesh, he found a repugnance in nature to such food; the former lost all his bristles; the latter its hair, and the whole body broke out in blotches.
If even this horrid practice of eating human flesh originates from hunger, still it must be perpetuated from revenge: as death must lose much of its horror among those who are accustomed to eat the dead; and where there is little horror at the sight of death, there must be less repugnance to murder.
We shall conclude this chapter withAn Account of a Wild Man, given by M. Le Roy.
In 1774, a wild man was discovered in the neighbourhood of Yuary. This man, who inhabited the rocks near a forest, was very tall, covered with hair like a bear, very nimble, and of a gay humour. He neither did, nor seemed to intend, harmto any body. He often visited the cottages, without ever attempting to carry off any thing. He had no knowledge of bread, milk, or cheese. His greatest amusement was to see the sheep running, and to scatter them; and he testified his pleasure at this sight by loud fits of laughter, but never attempted to hurt them. When the shepherds (as was frequently the case) let loose their dogs at him, he fled with the swiftness of an arrow, and never allowed the dogs to come too near him. One morning he came to the cottage of some workmen, and one of them endeavouring to catch him by the leg, he laughed heartily, and then made his escape. He seemed to be about thirty years of age. As the forest is very extensive, and had a communication with a vast wood that belongs to the Spanish territories, it is natural to suppose that this solitary, but cheerful creature, had been lost in his infancy, and subsisted on herbs.
CURIOSITIES RESPECTING MAN.—(Continued.)
Striking Instances of Integrity—Shocking Instances of Ingratitude—Extraordinary Instances of Honour—Surprising Effects of Anger—Remarkable Effects of Fright, or Terror—Notable Instance of the Power of Conscience.
Striking Instances of Integrity—Shocking Instances of Ingratitude—Extraordinary Instances of Honour—Surprising Effects of Anger—Remarkable Effects of Fright, or Terror—Notable Instance of the Power of Conscience.
Striking Instances of Integrity.
A man of integrity will never listen to any reason, or give way to any measure, or be misled by any inducement, against conscience. The inhabitants of a great town offered Marshal de Turenne 100,000 crowns, upon condition he would take another road, and not march his troops their way. He answered them, “As your town is not on the road I intend to march, I cannot accept the money you offer me.”—The Earl of Derby, in the reign of Edward III. making a descent in Guienne, carried by storm the town of Bergerac, and gave it up to be plundered.—A Welsh Knight happening to light upon the receiver’s office, found such a quantity of money, that he thought himself obliged to acquaint his general with it, imagining that so great a booty belonged to him. But he was agreeably surprised, when the Earl wished him joy of his good fortune, and said he did not make the keeping of his word depend on the great or little value of what he had promised.—In the siege of Falisci, by Camillus, General of the Romans, the schoolmaster of the town, who had the children of the senators under his care, led them abroad, under the pretext of recreation, and carried them to the Romancamp; saying to Camillus, that, by this artifice, he had delivered Falisci into his hands. Camillus, abhorring his treachery, said, “That there were laws for war as well as for peace; and that the Romans were taught to make war with integrity, not less than with courage.” He ordered the schoolmaster to be stripped, his hands to be bound behind his back, and to be delivered to the boys, to be lashed back into the town. The Falerians, hitherto obstinate in resistance, struck with an act of justice so illustrious, delivered themselves up to the Romans; convinced that they would be far better to have the Romans for their allies, than their enemies.
Shocking Instances of Ingratitude.—Herodotus informs us, that when Xerxes, king of Persia, was at Celene, a city of Phrygia, Pythius, a Lydian, who resided there, and, next to Xerxes, was the most opulent prince of those times, entertained him and his whole army with an incredible magnificence, and made him an offer of all his wealth towards defraying the expenses of his expedition. Xerxes, surprised at so generous an offer, inquired to what sum his riches amounted. Pythius answered, that having the design of offering them to his service, he had taken an exact account of them, and that the silver he had by him, amounted to 2000 talents, (about £255,000 sterling), and the gold to 3,993,000 darics (about £1,700,000 sterling). All this money he offered him, telling him, that his revenue was sufficient for the support of his household. Xerxes made him very hearty acknowledgments, and entered into a particular friendship with him, and declined accepting his present. Some time after this, Pythius having desired a favour of him, that out of his five sons, who served in his army, he would be pleased to leave him the eldest, to comfort him in his old age; Xerxes was so enraged at the proposal, though so reasonable in itself, that he caused the eldest son to be killed before his father’s eyes, giving the latter to understand, that it was a favour he spared him and the rest of his children. Yet, this is the same Xerxes who is so much admired for his humane reflection at the head of his numerous army.—The emperor Basilius I. exercised himself in hunting: a great stag running furiously against him, fastened one of the branches of his horns in the emperor’s girdle, and, pulling him from his horse, dragged him a good distance, to the imminent danger of his life; which a gentleman of his retinue perceiving, drew his sword, and cut the emperor’s girdle asunder, which disengaged him from the beast, with little or no hurt to his person. But, observe his reward! “He was sentenced to lose his head for putting the sword so near the body of the emperor; and suffered death accordingly.” (Zonor.Annal.tom.3. p. 155.)—In a little work entitledFriendly Cautions to Officers, the following atrocious instance is related. An opulent city, in the west of England, had a regiment sent to be quartered there: the principal inhabitants, glad to shew their hospitality and attachment to their sovereign, got acquainted with the officers, invited them to their houses, and shewed them every civility in their power. A merchant, extremely easy in his circumstances, took so prodigious a liking to one officer in particular, that he gave him an apartment in his own house, and made him in a manner master of it, the officer’s friends being always welcome to his table. The merchant was a widower, and had two favourite daughters: the officer cast his wanton eyes upon them, and too fatally ruined them both. Dreadful return to the merchant’s misplaced friendship! The consequence of this ungenerous action was, that all officers ever after were shunned as pests to society; nor have the inhabitants yet conquered their aversion to a red coat.—We read in Rapin’s History, that during Monmouth’s rebellion, in the reign of James II. a certain person, knowing the humane disposition of one Mrs. Gaunt, whose life was one continued exercise of beneficence, fled to her house, where he was concealed and maintained for some time. Hearing, however, of the proclamation, which promised an indemnity and reward to those who discovered such as harboured the rebels, he betrayed his benefactress: and such was the spirit of justice and equity which prevailed among the ministry, that he was pardoned, and recompensed for his treachery, while she was burnt alive for her charity!—The following instance is also to be found in the same history. Humphrey Bannister and his father were both servants to, and raised by, the Duke of Buckingham; who being driven to abscond by an unfortunate accident befalling the army he had raised against the usurper Richard III. he retired to Bannister’s house near Shrewsbury, as to a place where he might be quite safe. Bannister, however, upon the king’s proclamation promising 1000l. reward to him that should apprehend the duke, betrayed his master to John Merton, high sheriff of Shropshire, who sent him under a strong guard to Salisbury, where the king then was; and there, in the market-place, the duke was beheaded. But Divine vengeance pursued the traitor Bannister; for, demanding the 1000l. that was the price of his master’s blood, Richard refused to pay it him, saying, “He that would be false to so good a master, ought not to be encouraged.” He was afterwards hanged for manslaughter; his eldest son went mad, and died in a hog-sty; his second became deformed and lame; and his third son was drowned in a small puddle of water; his eldest daughter became pregnant by one of his carters, and his second was seized with a leprosy whereof she died.Hist. ofEng.i. p. 304. Let us guard against this odious vice, ingratitude, being assured that sooner or later the bitter effects of this, as well as of all other sins, will find us out.
Our following article consists of someExtraordinary Instances of Honour.
The Spanish historians relate a memorable instance of inviolable regard to the principles of honour and truth. A Spanish cavalier, in a sudden quarrel, slew a Moorish gentleman, and fled. His pursuers soon lost sight of him, for he had, unperceived, leaped over a garden wall. The owner, a Moor, happening to be in his garden, was addressed by the Spaniard on his knees, who acquainted him with his case, and implored concealment. “Eat this,” said the Moor (giving him half a peach), “you now know that you may confide in my protection.” He then locked him up in his garden, telling him, as soon as it was night he would provide for his escape to a place of greater safety. The Moor then went into his house, where he had but just seated himself, when a great crowd, with loud lamentations, came to his gate, bringing the corpse of his son, who had just been killed by a Spaniard. When the first shock of surprise was a little over, he learned, from the description given, that the fatal deed was done by the very person then in his power. He mentioned this to no one; but, as soon as it was dark, retired to his garden, as if to grieve alone, giving orders that none should follow him. Then accosting the Spaniard, he said, “Christian, the person you have killed is my son, his body is now in my house. You ought to suffer; but you have eaten with me, and I have given you my faith, which must not be broken.” He then led the astonished Spaniard to his stables, mounted him on one of his fleetest horses, and said, “Fly far while the night can cover you; you will be safe in the morning. You are indeed guilty of my son’s blood; but God is just and good; and thank him, I am innocent of your’s, and that my faith given is preserved.” This point of honour is most religiously observed by the Arabs and Saracens, from whom it was adopted by the Moors of Africa, and by them was brought into Spain.—The following instance of Spanish honour may still be in the memory of many living, and deserves to be handed down to the latest posterity. In 1746, when Britain was at war with Spain, the Elizabeth of London, captain William Edwards, coming through the gulf from Jamaica, richly laden, met with a most violent storm, in which the ship sprung a leak, that obliged them to run into the Havannah, a Spanish port, to save their lives. The captain went on shore, and directly waited on the governor, told the occasion of his putting in, and that he surrendered the ship as a prize, and himself and his men as prisoners of war, onlyrequesting good quarter. “No, Sir,” replied the Spanish governor, “if we had taken you in fair war at sea, or approaching our coast with hostile intentions, your ship would then have been a prize, and your people prisoners; but when, distressed by a tempest, you come into our ports for the safety of your lives, we, though enemies, being men, are bound, as such, by the laws of humanity, to afford relief to distressed men who ask it of us. We cannot, even against our enemies, take advantage of an act of God. You have leave therefore to unload your ship, if that be necessary, and to stop the leak; you may refit her here, and traffic so far as shall be necessary to pay the charges; you may then depart, and I will give you a pass to be in force till you are beyond Bermuda: if after that you are taken, you will then be a lawful prize; but now you are only a stranger, and have a stranger’s right to safety and protection.” The ship accordingly departed, and arrived safe in London.—A remarkable instance of honour is also recorded of an African negro, in captain Snelgrave’s account of his voyage to Guinea. A New-England sloop, trading there in 1752, left her second mate, William Murray, sick on shore, and sailed without him. Murray was at the house of a black, namedCudjoe, with whom he had contracted an acquaintance during their trade. He recovered; and the sloop being gone, he continued with his black friend till some other opportunity should offer of his getting home. In the mean time a Dutch ship came into the road, and some of the blacks coming on board her, were treacherously seized and carried off as slaves. The relations and friends, transported with sudden rage, ran to the house of Cudjoe, to take revenge by killing Murray. Cudjoe stopped them at the door, and demanded what they wanted. “The white men,” said they, “have carried away our brothers and sons, and we will kill all white men. Give us the white man you have in your house, for we will kill him.” “Nay,” said Cudjoe, “the white men that carried away your relations are bad men, kill them when you can take them; but this white man is a good man, and you must not kill him.”—“But he is a white man,” they cried, “and the white men are all bad men, we will kill them all.”—“Nay,” says he, “you must not kill a man that has done no harm, only for being white. This man is my friend, my house is his post, I am his soldier, and must fight for him; you must kill me before you can kill him. What good man will ever come again under my roof, if I let my floor be stained with a good man’s blood?” The negroes, seeing his resolution, and being convinced by his discourse that they were wrong, went away ashamed. In a few days Murray went abroad again with his friend Cudjoe, when several of them took him by the hand, and told him, “they were glad they had not killed him; for, as he was a goodman, their god would have been very angry, and would have spoiled their fishing.”
As it is our intention to record whatever we meet with, that is curious or wonderful, we hesitate not in inserting the followingSurprising Effects of Anger.
Physicians and naturalists afford instances of very extraordinary effects of this passion. Borrichius cured a woman of an inveterate tertian ague, which had baffled the art of physic, by putting the patient in a furious fit of anger. Valeriola made use of the same means, with the like success, in a quartan ague. The same passion has been equally salutary to paralytic, gouty, and even dumb persons; to which last it has sometimes given the use of speech. Etmuller gives divers instances of very singular cures wrought by anger; among others, he mentions a person laid up in the gout, who, being provoked by his physician, flew upon him, and was cured. It is true, the remedy is somewhat dangerous in the application, when a patient does not know how to use it with moderation. We meet with several instances of princes, to whom it has proved mortal;e. g.Valentinian I. Wenceslaus, Matthias Corvinus, king of Hungary, and others. There are also instances wherein it has produced the epilepsy, jaundice, cholera morbus, diarrhœa, &c. In fact, this passion is of such a nature, that it quickly throws the whole nervous system into preternatural commotions, by a violent stricture of the nervous and muscular parts; and surprisingly augments, not only the systole of the heart, and its contiguous vessels, but also the tone of the fibrous parts in the whole body. It is also certain, that this passion, by the spasmodic stricture it produces in the parts, exerts its power principally on the stomach and intestines, which are highly nervous and membraneous parts; whence the symptoms are more dangerous, in proportion to the greater consent of the stomach and intestines with the other nervous parts, and almost with the whole body. The unhappy influence of anger likewise on the biliary and hepatic ducts, is very surprising; since, by an intense constriction of these, the liver is not only rendered scirrhous, but stones also are often generated in the gall-bladder and biliary ducts: these accidents have scarcely any other origin than an obstruction of the free motion and efflux of the bile, by means of this violent stricture. From such a stricture, likewise, proceeds the jaundice, which, in process of time, lays a foundation for calculous concretions in the gall-bladder. By increasing the motion of the fluid, or the spasms of the fibrous parts, by means of anger, a large quantity of blood is forcibly propelled to certain parts; whence it happens, that they are too much distended, and the orifices of the veins distributed there, opened. It is evident, from experience, that anger has a great tendencyto excite enormous hemorrhages, either from the nose, the aperture of the pulmonary artery, &c. The effects of this passion are well described by Armstrong in the following lines:—
“But there’s a passion, whose tempestuous swayTears up each virtue planted in the heart,And shakes to ruin proud philosophy:For pale and trembling anger rushes inWith falt’ring speech, and eyes that wildly stare,Fierce as the tiger, madder than the seas,Desp’rate, and arm’d with more than human strength;But he whom anger stings, drops, if he dies,At once, and rushes apoplectic down;Or a fierce fever hurries him to hell.”
Now follows an account of someRemarkable Effects of Fright, or Terror.
Out of many instances of the fatal effects of fear, the following is selected as one of the most singular:—George Grochantzy, a Polander, who had enlisted as a soldier in the service of the king of Prussia, deserted during the last war. A small party was sent in pursuit of him, and, when he least expected it, surprised him singing and dancing among a company of peasants in an inn. This event, so sudden, and so dreadful in its consequences, struck him in such a manner, that, giving a great cry, he became altogether stupid and insensible, and was seized without the least resistance. They carried him away to Glocau, where he was brought before the council of war, and received sentence as a deserter. He suffered himself to be led and disposed of at the will of those about him, without uttering a word, or giving the least sign that he knew what had happened or would happen to him. He remained immoveable as a statue wherever he was placed, and was wholly regardless of all that was done to him or about him. During all the time that he was in custody, he neither ate, nor drank, nor slept, nor had any evacuation. Some of his comrades were sent to see him; after that, he was visited by some officers of his corps, and by some priests; but he still continued in the same state, without discovering the least signs of sensibility. Promises, entreaties, and threatenings, were equally ineffectual. It was at first suspected that these appearances were feigned; but such suspicions gave way, when it was known that he took no sustenance, and that the involuntary functions of nature were in a great measure suspended. The physicians concluded that he was in a state of hopeless idiocy; and after some time they knocked off his fetters, and left him at liberty to go where he would. He received his liberty with the same insensibility that he had shewn on other occasions; he remained fixed and immoveable, his eyes turned wildly here and there, withouttaking cognizance of any object, and the muscles of his face were fallen and fixed, like those of a dead body. He passed twenty days in this condition, without eating, drinking, or any evacuation, and died on the 20th day. He had been sometimes heard to fetch deep sighs; and once he rushed with great violence on a soldier who had a mug of liquor in his hand, forced the mug from him, and having drank the liquor with great eagerness, let the mug drop to the ground.—Among the ludicrous effects of fear, the following instance, quoted from a French author, by Mr. Andrews, in his volume of Anecdotes, shews upon what slight occasions this passion may be sometimes excited in a very high degree, and even in persons the most unlikely to entertain fear. “Charles Gustavus (successor to Christina, queen of Sweden,) was besieging Prague, when a boor of a most extraordinary visage desired admittance to his tent; and being allowed entrance, offered, by way of amusing the king, to devour a whole hog of 100 weight in his presence. The old general, Konigsmarc, who stood by the king’s side, and who, soldier as he was, had not got rid of the prejudices of his childhood, hinted to his royal master that the peasant ought to be burnt as a sorcerer. ‘Sir,’ said the fellow, irritated at the remark, ‘if your majesty will but make that old gentleman take off his sword and his spurs, I will eat him, before I begin the hog.’ Konigsmarc (who had, at the head of a body of Swedes, performed wonders against the Austrians, and who was looked upon as one of the bravest men of the age,) could not stand this proposal; especially as it was accompanied by a most hideous and preternatural expansion of the frightful peasant’s jaws. Without uttering a word, the veteran turned round, ran out of the court, nor thought himself safe until he had arrived at his quarters, where he remained above 24 hours locked up securely, before he had got rid of the panic which had so severely affected him.” Such is the influence of fright or terror.
The following is a notable instance ofThe Power of Conscience.
It is a saying, that no man ever offended his own conscience, but first or last it was revenged upon him. The power of conscience indeed has been remarked in all ages, and the examples of it upon record are numerous and striking.—The following is related by Mr. Fordyce, in hisDialogues on Education, (vol. ii. p. 501.) as a real occurrence, which happened in a neighbouring state not many years ago. A jeweller, a man of good character and considerable wealth, having occasion, in the way of his business, to travel to some distance from the place of his abode, took along with him a servant, in order to take care of his portmanteau. He had with himsome of his best jewels, and a large sum of money, to which his servant was likewise privy. The master having occasion to dismount on the road, the servant watching his opportunity, took a pistol from his master’s saddle, and shot him dead on the spot; then rifled him of his jewels and money, and, hanging a large stone to his neck, threw him into the nearest canal. With his booty he made off to a distant part of the country, where he had reason to believe that neither he nor his master were known. There he began to trade in a very low way at first, that his obscurity might screen him from observation, and in the course of a good many years seemed to rise, by the natural progress of business, into wealth and consideration; so that his good fortune appeared at once the effect and reward of industry and virtue. Of these he counterfeited the appearance so well, that he grew into great credit, married into a good family, and by laying out his sudden stores discreetly, as he saw occasion, and joining to all an universal affability, he was admitted to a share of the government of the town, and rose from one post to another, till at length he was chosen chief magistrate. In this office he maintained a fair character, and continued to fill it with no small applause, both as a governor and a judge; till one day, as he sat on the bench, with some of his brethren, a criminal was brought before him, who was accused of murdering his master. The evidence came out full, the jury brought in their verdict that the prisoner was guilty, and the whole assembly waited the sentence of the president of the court (which he happened to be that day) with great suspense. Meanwhile he appeared to be in unusual disorder and agitation of mind, and his colour changed often; at length he rose from his seat, and coming down from the bench, placed himself by the unfortunate man at the bar. “You see before you (said he, addressing himself to those who had sat on the bench with him,) a striking instance of the just awards of heaven, which, this day, after 30 years’ concealment, presents to you a greater criminal than the man just now found guilty.” Then he made an ample confession of his guilt, and of all the aggravations: “Nor can I feel (continued he) any relief from the agonies of an awakened conscience, but by requiring that justice be forthwith done against me in the most public and solemn manner.” We may easily suppose the amazement of all the assembly, and especially of his fellow judges. However, they proceeded, upon this confession, to pass sentence upon him, and he died with all the symptoms of a penitent mind. Let it be our constant aim to keep a conscience void of offence towards God, and towards man; being assured that,
One self-approving hour whole years outweighsOf stupid starers, and of loud huzzas.Pope.