Chapter 53

Stow relates, that James I., on a visit to the lion and lioness in the Tower, caused a live lamb to be put into them; but they refused to harm it, although the lamb in its innocence went close to them. An anecdote equally striking was related to the editor of theEvery-Day Bookby an individual whose friend, a few years ago, saw a young calf thrust into the den of a lion abroad. The calf walked to the lion, and rubbed itself against him as he lay; the lion looked, but did not move; the calf, by thrusting its nose under the side of the lion, indicated a desire to suck, and the lion then slowly rose and walked away, from mere disinclination to be interfered with, but without the least expression of resentment, although the calf continued to follow him.

On the 13th of August, 1731, a litter of young lions was whelped in the Tower, from a lioness and lion whelped there six years before. In theGentleman’s Magazinefor February, 1739, there is an engraving of Marco, a lion then in the Tower.

On the 6th of April, 1775, a lion was landed at the Tower, as a present to his late majesty from Senegal. He was taken in the woods, out of a snare, by a private soldier, who, being attacked by two natives that had laid it, killed them both, and brought away the lion. The king ordered his discharge for this act, and further rewarded him by a pension of fifty pounds a year for life. On this fact, related in theGentleman’s Magazinefor that year, a correspondent inquires of Mr. Urban whether “a lion’s whelp is an equivalent for the lives of two human creatures.” To this question, reiterated by another, it is answered in the same volume, with rectitude of principle and feeling, that “if the fact betrue, the person who recommended the soldier to his majesty’s notice, must have considered the action in a military light only, and must totally have overlooked the criminality of it in a moral sense. The killing two innocent fellow-creatures,unprovoked, only to rob them of the fruits of their ingenuity, can never surely be accountedmeritoriousin one who calls himself a christian. If it is notmeritorious, but contrary, the murderer was a very improper object to be recommended as worthy to be rewarded by a humane and christian king.” This settled the question, and the subject was not revived.

Because the inundation of the Nile happened during the progress of the sun in Leo, the ancients caused the water of their fountains to issue from the mouth of a lion’s head, sculptured in stone. The circumstance is pleasant to notice at this season; a few remarks will be made on fountains by-and-bye.

TheLion’s Head, at Button’s coffee-house, is well remembered in literary annals. It was a carving with an orifice at the mouth, through which communications for the “Guardian” were thrown. Button had been a servant in the countess of Warwick’s family, and by thepatronage of Addison, kept a coffee-house on the south side of Russell-street, about two doors from Covent-garden, where the wits of that day used to assemble. Addison studied all the morning, dined at a tavern, and afterwards went to Button’s. “The Lion’s Head” was inscribed with two lines from Martial:—

Cervantur magnis isti Cervicibus ungues:Non nisi delectâ pascitur ille fera.

This has been translated in theGentleman’s Magazinethus:—

Bring here nice morceaus; be it understoodThe lion vindicates his choicest food.

Button’s “Lion’s Head” was afterwards preserved at the Shakspeare Tavern, where it was sold by auction on the 8th of November, 1804, to Mr. Richardson of the Grand Hotel, the indefatigable collector and possessor of an immense mass of materials for the history of St. Paul, Covent-garden, the parish wherein he resides. The late duke of Norfolk was his ineffectual competitor at the sale: the noble peer suffered the spirited commoner to gain the prize for 17l.10s.Subsequently the duke frequently dined at Mr. Richardson’s, whom he courted in vain to relinquish the gem. Mr. R. had the head with its inscription handsomely engraved for his “great seal,” from which he has caused delicate impressions to be presented in oak-boxes, to a few whom it has pleased him so to gratify; and among them the editor of theEvery-Day Book, who thus acknowledges the acceptable civility.

In theLondon Magazinethe “Lion’s Head,” fronts each number, greeting its correspondents, and others who expect announcements, with “short affable roars,” and inviting “communications” from all “who may have committed a particularly good action, or a particularly bad one—or said or written any thing very clever, or very stupid, during the month.” By too literal a construction of this comprehensive invitation, some got into the “head,” who, not having reach enough for the “body” of the magazine, were happy to get out with a slight scratch, and others remain without daring to say “their souls are their own”—to the reformation of themselves, and as examples to others contemplating like offences. The “Lion” of the “London” is of delicate scent, and shows high masterhood in the great forest of literature.

Her name, which in Hebrew signifies gracious, is in the church of England calendar and almanacs on this day, which is kept as a great holiday by the Romish church.

The history of St. Anne is an old fiction. It pretends that she and her husband Joachim were Jews of substance, and lived twenty years without issue, when the high priest, on Joachim making his offerings in the temple, at the feast of the dedication, asked him why he, who had no children, presumed to appear among those who had; adding, that his offerings were not acceptable to God, who had judged him unworthy to have children, nor, until he had, would his offerings be accepted. Joachim retired, and bewailed his reproach among his shepherds in the pastures without returning home, lest his neighbours also should reproach him. The story relates that, in this state, an angel appeared to him and consoled him, by assuring him that he should have a daughter, who should be called Mary, and for a sign he declared that Joachim on arriving at the Golden Gate of Jerusalem should there meet his wife Anne, who being very much troubled that he had not returned sooner, should rejoice to see him. Afterwards the angel appeared to Anne, who was equally disconsolate, and comforted her by a promise to the same effect, and assured her by a like token, namely, that at the Golden Gate she should meet her husband for whose safety she had been so much concerned. Accordingly both of them left the places where they were, and met each other at the Golden Gate, and rejoiced at each others’ vision, and returned thanks, and lived in cheerful expectation that the promise would be fulfilled.

The meeting between St. Anne and St. Joachim at the Golden Gate was a favourite subject among catholic painters, and there are many prints of it. From one of them in the “Salisbury Missal,” (1534 fo. xix) the annexedengravingis copied. The curious reader will find notices of others in a volume on the “Ancient Mysteries,” by the editor of theEvery-Day Book. The wood engraving in the “Missal” is improperly placed there to illustrate the meeting between the Virgin Mary and Elizabeth.

Meeting of St. Anne and St. JoachimAT THE GOLDEN GATE.

It is further pretended, that the result of the angel’s communication to Joachim and Anne was the miraculous birth of the Virgin Mary, and that she was afterwards dedicated by Anne to the service of the temple, where she remained till the time of her espousal by Joseph.

In the Romish breviary of Sarum there are forms of prayer to St. Anne, which show how extraordinarily highly these stories placed her. One of them is thus translated by bishop Patrick:[225]

“O vessel of celestial grace,Blest mother to the virgins’ queen,By thee we beg, in the first place,Remission of all former sin.“Great mother, always keep in mindThe power thou hast, by thy sweet daughter,And, by thy wonted prayer, let’s findGod’s grace procur’d to us hereafter.”

“O vessel of celestial grace,Blest mother to the virgins’ queen,By thee we beg, in the first place,Remission of all former sin.

“Great mother, always keep in mindThe power thou hast, by thy sweet daughter,And, by thy wonted prayer, let’s findGod’s grace procur’d to us hereafter.”

Another, after high commendations to St. Anne, concludes thus:—

“Therefore, still asking, we remain,And thy unwearied suitors are,That, what thou canst, thou wouldst obtain,And give us heaven by thy prayer.Do thou appease the daughter, thou didst bear,She her own son, and thou thygrandsondear.”

The nuns of St. Anne at Rome show a rude silver ring as the wedding-ring ofAnne and Joachim; both ring and story are ingenious fabrications. There are of course plenty of her relics and miracles from the same sources. They are further noticed in the work on the “Mysteries” referred to before.

A young, and not unknown correspondent of theEvery-Day Book, has had a holiday—his first holiday since he came to London, and settled down into an every-day occupation of every hour of his time. He seems until now not to have known that the environs of London abound in natural as well as artificial beauties. What he has seen will be productive of this advantage; it will induce residents in London, who never saw Dulwich, to pay it a visit, and see all that he saw. Messrs. Colnaghi and Son, of Pall-mall East, Mr. Clay of Ludgate-hill, or any other respectable printseller, will supply an applicant with a ticket of admission for a party, to see the noble gallery of pictures there. These tickets are gratuitous, and a summer holiday may be delightfully spent by viewing the paintings, and walking in the pleasant places adjacent: the pictures will be agreeable topics for conversation during the stroll.

MY HOLIDAY!To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

My dear Sir,

The kind and benevolent feelings which you are so wont to discover, and the sparkling good-humour and sympathy which characterize yourEvery-Day Book, encourage me to describe to you “My holiday!” I approach you with familiarity, being well known as yourconstant reader. You also know me to be aprovincialcockney—a transplant. Oh! why then do you so often paint nature in her enchanting loveliness? What cruelty! You know my destiny is foreign to my desires: I cannot now seek the shade of a retired grove, carelessly throw myself on the bank of a “babbling brook,” there muse and angle, as I was wont to do, and, as my old friend Izaak Walton bade me,—

“watch the sun to rise and set,There meditate my time away,And beg to have a quiet passage to a welcome grave.”

But, I have had a holiday! The desk was forsaken for eight-and-forty hours! Think of that! I have experienced what Leigh Hunt desires every christian to experience—that there is a green and gay world, as well as a brick and mortar one. Months previous was the spot fixed upon which was to receive my choice, happy spirit. Dulwich was the place. It was an easy distance from town; moreover, it was a “rustic” spot; moreover, it had a picture-gallery; in a word, it was just the sort of place for me. The happy morning dawned. I could say with Horace, with the like feelings of enraptured delight—

“Insanire juvat. Sparge rosas.”

Such was the disposition of my mind.

We met (for I was accompanied) at that general rendezvous for carts, stages, waggons, and sociables, the Elephant and Castle. There were the honest, valiant, laughter-lovingJ—;the pensive, kindly-heartedG—;and the sanguine, romantic, speculativeM—.A conveyance was soon sought. It was a square, covered vehicle, set on two wheels, drawn by one horse, which was a noble creature, creditable to its humane master, who has my best wishes, as I presume he will never have cause to answer under Mr. Martin’s Act. Thus equipaged and curtained in, we merrily trotted by the Montpelier Gardens, and soonovertookthe “Fox-under-the-Hill.” To this “Fox” I was an entire stranger, having never hunted in that part of the country before. The beautiful hill which brought us to the heights of Camberwell being gained, we sharply turned to the left, which gave us the view of Dulwich and its adjoining domains in the distance. Oh, ecstacy of thought! Gentle hills, dark valleys, far-spreading groves, luxuriant corn-fields, magnificent prospects, then sparkled before me. The rich carpet of nature decked with Flora’s choicest flowers, and wafting perfumes of odoriferous herbs floating on the breezes, expanded and made my heart replete with joy. What kind-heartedness then beamed in our countenances! We talked, and joked, and prattled; and so fast did our transports impulse, that to expect an answer tooneof my eager inquiries as to “who lives here or there?” was out of the question. Our hearts were redolent of joy. It was our holiday!

By the side of the neat, grassy, picturesque burying-ground we alighted, in front of Dulwich-college. Now for the picture-gallery. Some demur took placeas to the safety of the “ticket.” After a few moments’ intense anxiety, it appeared. How important was that square bit of card!—it was the key to our hopes—“Admit Mr.R—andfriends to view the Bourgeois Gallery.” We entered by the gate which conducts into the clean, neat, and well-paved courtyard contiguous to the gallery. In the lodge, which is situate at the end of this paved footpath, you see a comely, urbane personage. With a polite bend of the head, and a gentle smile of good-nature on his countenance on the production of the “ticket,” he bids you welcome. The small folding doors on your right hand are then opened, and this magnificent gallery is before you. This collection is extremely rich in the works of the old masters, particularly Poussin, Teniers, Vandyke, Claude, Rubens, Cuype, Murillo, Velasquez, Annibal Caracci, Vandervelt, Vanderwerf, and Vanhuysem. Here I luxuriated. With my catalogue in hand, and the eye steadily fixed upon the subject, I gazed, and although neither connoisseur nor student, felt that calmness, devotion, and serenity of soul, which the admiration of either the works of a poet, or the “sweet harmony” of sound, or form, alone work upon my heart. I love nature, andhereshe was imitated in her simplest and truest colourings. The gallery, or rather the five elegant rooms, are well designed, and the pictures admirably arranged. We entered by a door about midway in the gallery, on the left, and were particularly pleased with the mausoleum. The design is clever and ingenious, and highly creditable to the talents of Mr. Soane. Here lie sir Francis Bourgeois, and Mr. and Mrs. Desenfans, surrounded by these exquisite pictures. The masterly painting of theDeath of Cardinal Beaufortis observed nearly over this entrance-door. But, time hastens—and after noticing yonder picture which hangs at the farther extremity of the gallery, I will retire. It is theMartyrdom of St. Sebastian, by Annibal Caracci. Upon this sublime painting I could meditate away an age. It is full of power, ofrealfeeling and poetry. Mark that countenance—the uplifted eye “with holy fervour bright!”—the resignation, calmness, and holy serenity, which speak of truth and magnanimity, contrasted with the physical sufferings and agonies of a horrid death. I was lost—my mind was slumbering on this ocean of sublimity!

The lover of rural sights will return from Dulwich-college by the retired footpath that strikes off to the right by the “cage” and “stocks” opposite the burying-ground. On ascending the verdant hill which leads to Camberwell Grove, the rising objects that gradually open to the view are most beautifully picturesque and enchanting. We reached the summit of theFive Fields:—

“Heav’ns! what a goodly prospect spread aroundOf hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires,And glittering towns, and gilded streams.”

This is a fairy region. The ravished eye glances from villa to grove, turret, pleasure-ground, hill, dale; and “figured streams in waves of silver” roll. Here are seen Norwood, Shooter’s-hill, Seven Droog Castle, Peckham, Walworth, Greenwich, Deptford, and bounding the horizon, the vast gloom of Epping Forest. What a holiday! What a feast for the mind, the eye, and the heart! A few paces from us we suddenly discerned a humble, aged, wintry object, sitting as if in mockery of the golden sunbeam which played across his furrowed cheek. The philanthropy of the good and gentle Elia inspired our hearts on viewing this “dim speck,” this monument of days gone by. Love is charity, and it was charitable thus to love. The good old patriarch asked not, but received alms with humility and gratitude. His poverty was honourable: his character was noble and elevated in lowliness. He gracelessly doffed his many-coloured cap in thanks (for hat he had none), and the snowy locks floating on the breeze rendered him an object as interesting as he was venerable. Could we have madeallsad hearts gay, we should but have realized the essayings of our souls. Our imaginings were of gladness and of joy. It was our holiday!

Now, my holiday is past! Hope, like a glimmering star, appears to me through the dark waves of time, and is ominous of future days like these. We are now “at home,” homely in use as occupation. I am hugging the desk, and calculating. I can now only request others who have leisure and opportunity to take a “holiday,” and make it a “holiday” similar to this. Health will be improved, the heart delighted, and the mind strengthened. The grovelling sensualist, who sees pleasure only in confusion, never can know pleasures comparable with these. There isa moral to every circumstance of life. One may be traced in the events of “My holiday!”

I am, dear Sir,Yours very truly,S. R.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

The subjoinedtablefor foretelling weather, appears strictly within the plan of theEvery-Day Book, for who that purposes out-door recreation, would not seize the probability of fixing on a fine day for the purpose; or what agriculturist would decline information that I venture to affirm may be relied on? It is copied from the Rev. Dr. Adam Clarke. (See the “Wesleyan Methodist Magazine,” New Series, vol. iii., p. 457, 458.) Believing that it will be gratifying and useful to your readers,

I am, &c.,O. F. S.

Doctors Commons.

THE WEATHER PROGNOSTICATORThrough all the Lunations of each Year for ever.

This table and the accompanying remarks are the result of many years’ actual observation; the whole being constructed on a due consideration of the attraction of the sun and moon in their several positions respecting the earth; and will, by simple inspection, show the observer what kind of weather will most probably follow the entrance of the moon into any of herquarters, and that so near the truth as to be seldom or never found to fail.

OBSERVATIONS.

1. The nearer the time of the moon’s change, first quarter, full, and last quarter, is to midnight, the fairer will the weather be during the seven days following.

2. The space for this calculation occupies from ten at night till two next morning.

3. The nearer to mid-day or noon these phases of the moon happen, the more foul or wet the weather may be expected during the next seven days.

4. The space for this calculation occupies from ten in the forenoon to two in the afternoon. These observations refer principally to summer, though they affect spring and autumn nearly in the same ratio.

5. The moon’s change—first quarter—full—and last quarter, happening during six of the afternoon hours, i. e. from four to ten, may be followed by fair weather: but this is mostly dependent on the wind, as it is noted in the table.

6. Though the weather, from a variety of irregular causes, is more uncertain in the latter part of autumn, the whole of winter, and the beginning of spring; yet, in the main, the above observations will apply to those periods also.

The Editor’s Visits to Claude Ambroise Seurat,EXHIBITED IN PALL MALL UNDER THE APPELLATION OF THEANATOMIE VIVANTE; or, LIVING SKELETON!

Thou com’st in such a questionable shape,That I will speak to thee.Shakspeare.

Thou com’st in such a questionable shape,That I will speak to thee.

Shakspeare.

I have visitedClaude Ambroise Seurat. Some would call him an unhappy or a miserable creature; he is neither unhappy nor miserable. “God tempers the wind to the shorn limb.”

How little do they see whatis, who frameTheir hasty judgment upon that whichseems.Southey.

How little do they see whatis, who frameTheir hasty judgment upon that whichseems.

Southey.

If Seurat had not seen men of firmer make, he would not know that the infirmity peculiar to himself is unnatural. Were he dressed like other persons, there is nothing in his countenance or speech to denote him different from themselves; and yet the difference is so great, that it is wonderful that he should “live, and move, and have his being.”

The “Interesting Account and Anatomical Description” of this extraordinary individual, sold at the Chinese Saloon, where he is exhibited, is to the following effect:—

Claude Ambroise Seurat was born at Troyes, in the department of Champaigne, on the 10th of April, 1797, and is now therefore twenty-eight years of age. His parents were respectable, but poor, and neither of them presented any deformity, or uncommon appearance; on the contrary, they are stated to have enjoyed robust health. The child on coming into the world, presented the customary baby form, but in proportion as theinfantgrew,the frame gradually wastedaway, and so continued to decrease until the attainment of its full stature, which occurred at the usual term of life, at which period Claude had attained his present height, while his frame had dwindled to the skeleton form which it now so decidedly presents.

In France, where he ate very little of any animal food, a penny French roll was enough for a day’s sustenance; but as he now partakes of a small quantity of animal diet, his bread is reduced accordingly.

As regards his feeding, those dishes which afford most nourishment satisfy him the quickest; and two or three ounces a day are quite sufficient.

In France he was accustomed to drink the wine of his country; but in England he partakes of wines greatly diluted with water, finding the liquors here so much stronger, as the Champaigne he usually drank was what is denominatedvin de pays, or small wine, of which there is none in this country. In eating, he masticates his victuals very much, taking small pieces, as the passage to the stomach would not admit of any great repletion, and in drinking the same precaution is required, otherwise suffocation would ensue. His digestion is extremely good, and the consequent functions of nature are regularly performed.

It is a singular fact, that such is the extreme sensitiveness of this almost nondescript, or sport of nature, that when touched on the left side with the finger, the surface of the body, to a certain extent, is observed to manifest its sympathy, by an involuntary chill, which contracts the pores, and produces that roughness of surface vulgarly known by the denomination of goose’s skin. In raising either of his feet from the floor, the limb appears to be distended uselessly from the knee, and we cannot better illustrate the idea than by that sensation we commonly experience upon allowing a limb to remain too long in one position, thereby causing a temporary strangulation of the vessels, known by the common term of the foot being asleep.

Previous to the arrival of Seurat in England, the French physicians who had inspected him, gave it as their opinion, that his lungs were placed in a different position to that usually occupied in the human frame.

Since his arrival, sir Astley Cooper, by whom he has been visited, finds that his heart is placed so much out of the common region allotted to it, that it is precisely its own length lower than if properly placed.

Many attempts were made to have Claude Ambroise Seurat presented to the French king; but the father conceiving that he might be consigned to some wretched asylum, there to subsist upon a miserable pension, uniformly objected to it. From the statements made by the father, it appears that the French gentlemen of the faculty, who visited his son, handling him roughly, and pinching him in every direction, the son refused to see them at all afterwards, and thus imbibed such a distaste for his professional countrymen, that he determined not to show himself to them any more. In consequence, the ParisianEcole de Medicinehas neverbeen made acquainted with his existence.

Many proposals made to the father for the purchase of the body of his son, Claude Ambroise Seurat, in the event of his demise, were uniformly rejected. A medical gentleman particularly, in Burgundy, offered acarte blanche, which the parent, with feelings highly honourable to himself, refused, stating his determination, that in the event of his son’s demise, he should be peaceably consigned to the cemetery of his native city. While at Rouen, no less than one thousand five hundred persons flocked in one day to see Seurat on his road to England.

The health of this singular being has been very good. His respiration is somewhat confined, being the necessary result of a contraction of the lungs; yet, upon the whole, he does not appear to be much inconvenienced on that account, in consequence of the little exercise he takes, and the quiescent state of the animal system.

The texture of the skin is of a dry, parchment-like appearance, which, covering any other human form, would not answer the purposes of its functions, but seems calculated alone to cover the slender, juiceless body of the being arrayed with it.

The ribs are not only capable of being distinguished, but may be clearly separated and counted one by one, and handled like so many pieces of cane; and, together with the skin which covers them, resemble more the hoops and outer covering of a small balloon, than any thing in the ordinary course of nature.

If any thing can exceed the unearthly appearance displayed by this wonderful phenomenon, it is that taken by profile; which, from the projection of the shoulder, pursuing the same down through the extreme hollow of the back, and then following the line to the front of the hip, nearly forms a figure of 3. In the front appears the unnatural projection of the chest, from the falling in of the abdomen; the prominence of the left side of the body, in consequence of the position of the heart; and the sudden protrusion of the posteriors.

The action produced by the effort of the lungs does not proceed from the chest, as in ordinary cases, but from the lower extremity of the abdomen, as though the organs of respiration, from excessive laxity, had absolutely descended from their proper sphere, and that by a tenacious effort of nature, unwilling to yield possession of her functions, they had accommodated themselves, by time, to such an unnatural and incredible a position.

Seurat is presented to view in a state of nudity, save a mere covering of several inches deep round the loins, through which are cut large holes to admit the hip bones to pass through, for the purpose of keeping it in its place. His general appearance is that of a person almost entirely devoid of muscular substance, and conveys to the mind the idea of a being composed of bones, cellular substance and skin only on. It is true, the appearances of the face, neck, fore-arm, and calves of the legs, may, in some measure, form exceptions to this general assertion, since in these situations there is something like flesh.

His height is about five feet seven inches and a half. The length of his extremities proportionate to the height of his body. His head is small rather than otherwise. Thecranium, (or skull,) at the back part, over theoccipitalprotuberance above the neck, is much flattened; the cervical organs in this situation being very sparely developed. In other respects the skull is tolerably well formed. Seurat’s countenance is by no means displeasing; for though the cheek-bones are prominent, the cheeks themselves sunk, and the other features of the face plain, still there is a placid and contemplative expression, which indicates the presence of a serene and thoughtful mind, claiming for itself from the spectators, feelings of pity and regret.

The neck, on being examined from before, appears short, flat, and broad. The shortness is principally owing to his inability to hold the face properly elevated, in consequence of which the chin drops down, and conceals the upper part of the neck. The flatness depends on the little muscular and cellular substance present, and on the great breadth of the neck, which takes from its natural rotundity. This great breadth is caused by the peculiar form and situation of thescapulæ, (or shoulder-blades,) the upper angles of which, instead of laying on the posterior portions of the uppermost ribs, are turned over the shoulder, and pass so far forward as nearly to reach the middle of theclavicles, (the collar-bones,) where their situation may be easily seen from before.Of course, the muscles calledlevatores scapulæ, which arise from the upper vertebræ of the neck, and usually pass downwards, and a very little outwards, in this case, pass very much outwards, in a direction towards the shoulder-joint, and extend the neck considerably in a lateral direction. These muscles, from their size and turgidity, have the appearance of bones in Seurat.

Thelarynx, as far as can be judged of from an external examination, is well formed, and that protuberance of thethysoir cartilagecalledpomum adami, or the apple of the throat, is prominent.

The formation of the upper extremities and chest, is one of the most remarkable features of this man. The leftscapulais higher than the right; both are remarkably prominent; so much so, that, when viewed sideways, there appears to be a large tumour underneath the skin, over the lower angle: this arises from the great projection of the lower angle itself from the ribs. It has been already stated, that the upper angle is placed unusually forwards, and at the bottom of the neck, from this point, thescapulaproceeds backwards, and, to permit its closer application to the upper and back part of the chest, its concave surface is remarkably curved, but still not sufficiently so to prevent the lower angle from projecting in an unseemly manner. This arrangement of the component parts of thescapulaand its muscles, interferes very much with the freedom of its movements, particularly the rotatory ones, which in other subjects are so varied.

Seurat can raise his hands and arms from his side, in a lateral direction, to a position nearly horizontal. He cannot, however, pass them far forwards, when thus elevated. He can throw thescapulabackwards, so as to make them almost meet at their lower ends; nevertheless, he is unable to lift his hands to his mouth, so as to feed himself in the ordinary way. When eating, he places his elbow on the table before him, then, by raising his hand, thus supported, and passing his head downwards, so as to meet it half way as it were, he is able to put his food into his mouth.

Thehumerus, or bone of the arm, from the elbow to the shoulder, appears quite destitute of muscle, and as if it consisted of bone, skin, vessels, and cellular membrane only. It may be remarked, however, that at that part where thebicepsmuscle is generally, there is a trifling fulness, probably caused by a few fibres of that muscle.

Thepiner, the bone of the arm from the elbow to the wrist, seems at the elbow joint considerably enlarged, but, in fact, it is only of its natural dimensions. The muscles of the fore-arm, though small, may, nevertheless, be distinctly traced. The hands are perfect in appearance. Seurat, however, cannot straighten his fingers, but keeps them in a semi-bent position; with this exception, he can use them freely.

The trunk is singularly shaped. Viewed from the front, the chest is not particularly narrow; it measures, from one shoulder to the other, across thesternum, or breast-bone, sixteen inches. Thesternumis much flattened, as though it had been driven inwards, towards thedorsal vertebra, or back-bone. In well-formed people, thesternumis a little convex, externally, and concave, internally, permitting all possible room for thethoracic viscera. In Seurat, however, this order of things is changed, the outer surface of the breast-bone being concave, and the internal convex. It is pushed so far inwards, as scarcely to leave more than one and a half inches, or two inches between itself and the oppositevertebræ.

This position of thesternum, and of the ribs, may probably afford an explanation of the causes which produce a slight impediment to his swallowing with despatch, or such morsels as are not cut very small; and of the unnatural situation of the heart, which, instead of being placed behind the 3d, 4th, and 5th ribs, is observed pulsating very low down behind the 7th, 8th, and 9th, ribs, in the situation of the lefthypochondrium. The five or six lower ribs, called false or floating ribs, are rounder, and approach nearer to nature in their form, thereby affording sufficient space for the heart, stomach, and liver, and some other of the abdominalviscera. It is conceived, that without this freer sweep of the lower ribs, life could not have been maintained, so much would the functions of the heart, andchylopretic viscerahave been interrupted. The false ribs descend very low down, on each side, there being scarcely one and a half inch between them and the crest of theileum. Thepelvisis capacious, and on its front aspect presents nothing very extraordinary.

There is an appearance of the abdomen,which must not be passed over. When looking at it, one might almost suppose that it consisted of two cavities, an upper and a lower one, so much is this poor fellow contracted round the loins. The following admeasurement may afford some idea of this circumstance:—

The muscles of the sides of thepelvis, partake of the general wasting, in consequence of which thetrochantesstand out from theglenoncavities in the samegauntmanner that they do in the trueskeleton, being covered by integuments alone. The thighs are imperfect in bulk, and the knees, like the elbows, appear enlarged. The calves of the legs seem to have more firm good muscle, than any other part of the body, particularly that of the right leg, which is much more fleshy than the left. The feet are well formed; a trifling overlapping of the toes is probably accidental.

The examination of the back part of Seurat’s body corresponds with the front, as far as the general leanness goes. Theocciputis flat, the neck broad; thescapulaprojecting, the spine crooked; some of the lower cervicalvertebræare curved backwards, and there is a curve towards the right side, formed by some of the lowerdorsal vertebræ. All the bony points of the back part of the body are so prominent that every individual bone may be distinctly traced by the eye, even at a considerable distance.

On first beholding Seurat, a person might almost imagine that he saw before him, one returned from “that bourne whence no traveller returns:” the first impressions over, he begins to wonder how so frail a being exists, and is surprised, that all those functions, necessary for the continuance of his own life, are regularly and effectively performed. He eats, drinks, and sleeps—the progress of digestion, as carried on throughout the alimentary canal, is regularly executed. The secretions of the liver, kidnies, and skin are separated from the blood, in such quantities as may be deemed necessary for the economy of his frame. His heart performs its office regularly, and sends the blood to the various parts of the body, in due proportions. He can bear the effects of heat and cold, like other people accustomed to lead a sedentary life, and does not need unusual clothes. His mind is better constituted, perhaps, than that of many a man, better formed in body. He comprehends quickly, and his memory is good. He has learnt to read and write his own language, and is now anxious to become acquainted with ours.

Such is Claude Ambroise Seurat, who may justly be considered as a most extraordinarylusus naturæ,—an object calculated to throw much and useful light on many interesting questions of the highest importance, towards the advancement of anatomical study.

So far from having any disinclination to being exhibited in this country, Claude Ambroise Seurat has repeatedly urged his wish to gratify the strong desire of the public, to view him without loss of time; and hearing that one of the journals had expressed some harshness concerning his exhibition, he indited and signed the following letter

To the Editor.

Sir,

Having learned that in an article in your journal, the motives and conduct of the persons who brought me to England are severely alluded to, it is my duty, both to them and to the public, to declare, that so far from experiencing any thing disagreeable, either in having been conducted hither or at being exposed, I feel great satisfaction not only in the change of my situation, but also at the bounties with which I have been loaded by the individuals who protect me. Far from having “been brought from the tranquillity of my native village,” I was wandering about France, and making but little by the exposure of my person, when I so fortunately met my present protectors, whose liberality will shortly render me sufficiently independent to enable me to return and live at my ease in my native country. I only beg leave to add, that my present situation is more happy than I ever yet enjoyed during my whole life, and is entirely conformable to my desires.

I have the honour to be, Sir, your most humble servant,

Claude Ambroise Seurat.

Aug.4, 1825.

This, with what follows, will give a tolerably adequate idea of this singular being, both as to his form and mind.

I have paid two visits to Seurat. His public exhibition takes place in a room in Pall-mall called the “Chinese Saloon;” its sides are decorated with Chinese paper; Chinese lanterns are hung from lines crossing from wall to wall. In front of a large recess, on one side, is a circular gauze canopy over a platform covered with crimson cloth, raised about eighteen inches from the floor, and enclosed by a light brass railing; the recess is enclosed by a light curtain depending from the cornice to the floor of the platform, and opening in the middle. A slight motion within intimates that the object of attraction is about to appear; the curtain opens a little on each side, and Seurat comes forth, as he is represented in the firstengraving, with no other covering than a small piece of fringed purple silk, supported round the middle by a red band, with a slit like pocket holes, to allow the hip-bones to pass through on each side. On the finger of the left hand, next to the middle one, he wears a plain gold ring. An artist who accompanied me at each visit, for the purpose of making the drawings here engraved, has well represented him. The portraits, bothfrontandprofile, are better resemblances than any that exist, and the anatomy of his figure more correct.

It is justly remarked, that “the title of ‘Living Skeleton’ does not seem exactly to be well applied to this strange production of nature, and may, perhaps, create some disappointment; because the curiosity, as it really exists, lies far less in the degree of attenuation which Seurat’s frame exhibits, than in the fact that, with a frame so reduced, a human being should be still in possession of most of his functions, and enjoying a reasonable quantity of health. As regards the exhibition of bone, for instance, there is not so much as may frequently be found (in the dead subject) in cases where persons have died of lingering consumption. The parchment-like aspect attributed to the skin too seems to have been a little overstated; and, in fact, most medical men who served in the late war, will recollect instances enough, where men of five feet eight inches high, dying from dysentery, or intermittent fever, have weighed considerably less than 78lbs., which is the weight of Seurat. The real novelty, therefore, should be looked for, not in the degree to which this man’s body is wasted and exhausted, but in the fact that such a degree of decay should be compatible with life, and the possession of some degree of strength and spirits. This decay does not seem to have operated equally upon all parts of the figure: it shows most strikingly in the appearance of the neck and trunk; the upper arms, from the shoulder to the elbow, and the thigh. The upper part of the arm is not quite destitute of flesh; but so small, that it may be spanned with ease by a very moderate fore-finger and thumb. The thighs are wasted very much—little remains upon them beyond the skin. The cap of the knee, which is large, and protrudes considerably, is of a reddish colour, unlike the aspect of the flesh or skin in general. The trunk, from the shoulder to the hip, has the appearance, more than any thing else, of a large bellows, a mere bag of hoops covered with leather, through which the pulsation of the heart is distinctly visible. On the thicker part of the fore-arm there is flesh, white in appearance, though of a soft and unhealthy character; and the division of the two bones, theulnaand theradius, may be detected by feeling. Upon the calves of the legs, again, there is some show of substance, and one is larger than the other. But the most curious circumstance, perhaps, in the man’s condition is, that while his whole body exhibits these extraordinary appearances of decay, his face (which is decidedly French, and not unpleasant,) displays no signs of attenuation whatever, and scarcely any symptom of disease or weakness.”[226]

It was on the first day of Seurat’s exhibition that I first visited him; this was on Tuesday, the 9th of August, 1825; a day the present sheet of theEvery-Day Bookhas not yet reached; I have been anxious to be before the day and the public, as regards Seurat, and it is therefore, as to him, anticipated. I was at the “Chinese Saloon” before the doors were opened, and was the first of the public admitted, followed by my friend, the artist. Seurat was not quite ready to appear; in the mean time, another visitor or two arrived, and after examining the canopy, and other arrangements, my attention was directed to the Chinese papering of the room, while Seurat had silently opened the curtains that concealed him, and stood motionless towards the front of the platform, as he is represented in theengraving. On turning round, I was instantly rivetted by his amazingemaciation; he seemed another “Lazarus, come forth” without his grave-clothes, and for a moment I was too consternated to observe more than his general appearance. My eye, then, first caught the arm as the most remarkable limb; from the shoulder to the elbow it is like an ivory German flute somewhat deepened in colour by age; it is not larger, and the skin is of that hue, and, not having a trace of muscle, it is as perfect a cylinder as a writing rule. Amazed by the wasted limbs, I was still more amazed by the extraordinary depression of the chest. Its indentation is similar to that which an over-careful mother makes in the pillowed surface of an infant’s bed for its repose. Nature has here inverted her own order, and turned the convex inwards, while the nobler organs, obedient to her will, maintain life by the gentle exercise of their wonted functions in a lower region. Below the ribs, which are well described in the accounts already given, the trunk so immediately curves in, that the red band of the silk-covering, though it is only loosely placed, seems a tourniquet to constrict the bowels within their prison house, and the hip-bones, being of their natural size, the waist is like a wasp’s. By this part of the frame we are reminded of some descriptions of the abstemious arid Bedouin Arab of the desert, in whom it is said the abdomen seems to cling to the vertebra. If the integument of the bowels can be called flesh, it is the only flesh on the body: for it seems to have wholly shrunk from the limbs; and where the muscles that have not wholly disappeared remain, they are also shrunk. He wears shoes to keep cold from his feet, which are not otherwise shaped than those of people who have been accustomed to wear tight shoes; his instep is good, and by no means so flat as in the generality of tavern waiters. His legs are not more ill-shaped than in extremely thin or much wasted persons; the right leg, which is somewhat larger than the left, is not less than were the legs of the late Mr. Suett, the comedian. On this point, without a private knowledge of Mr. Liston, I would publicly appeal to that gentleman, whom, on my second visit in the afternoon, I saw there, accompanied by Mr. Jones. Mr. Liston doubtless remembers Suett, and I think he will never forget Seurat, at whom he looked, “unutterable things,” as if he had been about to say—“Prodigious!”

Seurat’s head and body convey a sentiment of antithesis. When the sight is fixed on his face alone, there is nothing there to denote that he varies from other men. I examined him closely and frequently, felt him on different parts of the body, and, not speaking his language, put questions to him through others, which he readily answered. His head has been shaved, yet a little hair left on the upper part of the neck, shows it to be black, and he wears a wig of that colour. His strong black beard is perceptible, although clean shaved. His complexion isswarthy, and his features are good, without the emaciation of which his body partakes; the cheek-bones are high, and the eyes are dark brown, approaching to black. They are represented as heavy and dull, and to denote little mental capacity; but, perhaps, a watchful observer, who made pertinent inquiries of him in a proper manner, would remark otherwise. He usually inclines the head forward towards his breast, and therefore, and because he is elevated above the spectators, his eyes frequently assume a position wherein he might see, and “descant on his own deformity.” His features are flexible, and therefore capable of great animation, and his forehead indicates capacity. Depression of the eyelid is by no means to be taken as a mark of dulness or inefficient intellect. One of our poets, I think Churchill, no incompetent judge of human nature, has a line concerning Genius “lowering on the penthouse of the eye.” Seurat, on any other than a common-place question, elevates his head to an ordinary position, answers immediately and with precision, and discourses rationally and sensibly; more sensibly than some in the room, who put childish questions about him to the attendants, and express silly opinions as to his physical and mental structure and abilities, and call him “a shocking creature.” There is nothing shocking either in his mind or his face. His countenance has an air of melancholy, but he expresses no feeling of the kind; it is not, however, so mournful as theengravingat the head of this article shows. The artist was timid, and in form and habit the reverse of Seurat; and as “like will to like,” so through dislike to the life of the subject before him, he imagined more dolour in Seurat’s face than it has; this could not be remedied by the engraver without hazarding the likeness, which is really good. Seurat’s voice is pleasing, deep-toned, and gentle. Except for theprivations to which his conformation constrains him, he is not an object of pity, and perhaps very little on that account. We meet many perfectly-formed beings in daily society whose abject indulgences or abject circumstances in life render them far more pitiable, and in a moral point of view, some of them are far more shocking. There is nothing in Seurat to disgust, as far as I could judge from what I saw or heard of him.

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