FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[1]Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria PætoQuem de visceribus traxerat ipsa suis,Si qua fides, vulnus, quod feci, non dolet, inquit;Sed quod tu facies, hoc mihi, Pæte, dolet.[2]Charles I., of England, put on two shirts the morning of his execution, saying, "If I tremble with cold, my enemies will say it was from fear: I will not expose myself to such reproaches."—Lingard: "History of England."[3]See Voltaire's "Account of the Death of the Chevalier de la Barre."[4]Enter theKing,Salisbury,Warwick, to theCardinalin bed.King.How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign.Car.If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain.King.Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, Where death's approach is seen so terrible!War.Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee:Car.Bring me unto my trial when you will. Died he not in his bed? where should he die? Can I make men live, whether they will or no? O, torture me no more! I will confess. Alive again? Then show me where he is: I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him. He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them. Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright, Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul. Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.King.O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! O, beat away the busy meddling fiend That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, And from his bosom purge this black despair!War.See how the pangs of death do make him grin!Sal.Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably.King.Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be! Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope. He dies, and makes no sign. O God, forgive him!War.So bad a death argues a monstrous life.King.Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation.Exeunt. —King Henry VI, Part II, Act iii.[5]Lablache (1794-1858), the celebrated French singer and actor, whose wonderful voice, embracing two full octaves, has been described as firmer and more expressive than that of any singer of his time or before it, attempted to sing upon his death-bed. He bade his son go to the piano and accompany him. The young man, struggling with emotion, obeyed. Lablache sang in English the first stanza ofHome, Sweet Home. At the second stanza the muscles of the throat refused to move; not a note could he sound. In distress and great amazement he gazed around him for a moment, and then, closing his eyes, fell asleep in death.It is recorded of Captain Hamilton, whose portrait was painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds, that he came to his death in this wise: "He imprudently ventured in a boat from his ship to land at Plymouth, on a tempestuous day, all in his impatience to rejoin his wife ashore. The boat turned keel upwards, and the captain, being a good swimmer, trusted to his skill, and would not accept of a place on the keel, but, that he might leave room there for others, clung merely to the edge of the boat. His great coat was a hindrance to him, and this he attempted to throw off; but, in the words of Lord Eliot, whose too are the italics, 'finding his strength fail, he told the men he must yield to his fate, and soon afterwards sank whilesinging a psalm.'"—Francis Jacox.When Latour was guillotined at Foix, in 1864, for the murder of a family of four persons, great was the throng in the streets, despite the heavy rain that fell; for, to ensure a good attendance, the condemned man had announced his intention to compose for the occasion a series of verses, which he would sing on his way (in a cart,vis-à-viswith messieurs the headsmen) from prison to scaffold. And sing them he did, all the way—a matter of some three hundred and fifty yards. Lightly he tripped up the steps of the scaffold, and then, after a deliberate survey of the crowd below and all around, he thundered forth,tonna, the following lines—a parody, or rather a personal appropriation, of the Marseillaise:"Allons, pauvre victime,Ton jour de mort est arrivé:Contre toi de la tyrannieLe couteau sanglant est levé!"Being then tied to the plank and flung into the usual horizontal position in order to be brought under the blade, he still went on—Allons, pauvre victime,Ton jour de mort... —until a heavy sound was heard, the blade fell, something else fell with it, and all was over.—Jacox.[6]It is too early for the last words of John Burroughs (may it be yet many years before they are spoken), but we are struck with the wonderful accord between the last words of Bolingbroke and the closing paragraph to the preface with which Burroughs introduces his, "The Light of Day:" "I am content to let the unseen powers go their own way with me and mine without question or distrust. They brought me here, and I have found it well to be here; in due time they will take me hence, and I have no doubt that will be well for me too."[7]Some have thought it an evidence of strength of will to die standing; and some have even wished to be buried in that posture. In Oliver Heywood's Register is the following entry:—"Oct. 28, 1684. Captain Taylor's wife, of Brighouse, buried in her garden, with head upwards, standing upright, by her husband, daughter, and other Quakers."Mrs. George S. Norton, of Pawling, N. Y., was buried at her own request sitting upright in a rocking chair enclosed in a box made of seasoned chestnut. The funeral services were held July 27, 1899.—Albany Argus.M. Halloin of the neighborhood of Caen, in Normandy, who died in the early part of this century, when he felt his end approach inserted in his last will a clause expressing his desire to be buried at night, in his bed, comfortably tucked in, with pillows and coverlets as he had died. As no opposition was raised against the execution of this clause, a huge pit was sunk, and the corpse was lowered into its last resting place, without any alteration having been made in the position in which death had overtaken him. Boards were laid over the bed, that the falling earth might not disturb this imperturbable quietist.—S. Baring-Gould: "Curiosities of Olden Times."[8]There is a story which comes to us from Scioppius, that Bruno rejected "with a terrible menacing countenance" a crucifix which was held up to him, and which may have been heated red hot, as was customary, in order to convince the spectators of the sufferer's impiety, and prevent them from feeling pity for him in his distress. The story has no very good foundation, but we know that heated crucifixes were not uncommon among the ghostly persecutors of earlier and darker days; and we can easily see how a man asked to kiss such a crucifix might exhibit "a terrible menacing countenance."[9]In the Appendix of Allan Cunningham's "Life of Burns" we read of an examination of the poet's Tomb, made immediately after that life was published:"When Burns's Mausoleum was opened in March, 1834, to receive the remains of his widow, some residents in Dumfries obtained the consent of her nearest relative to take a cast from the cranium of the poet. This was done during the night between the 31st of March and 1st of April. Mr. Archibald Blacklock, surgeon, drew up the following description:"The cranial bones were perfect in every respect, if we except a little erosion of their external table, and firmly held together by their sutures, &c., &c. Having completed our intention [i. e., of taking a plaster cast of the skull, washed from every particle of sand, &c.], the skull securely closed in a leaden case, was again committed to the earth, precisely where we found it."[10]On February 5th, 1881, in the tranquil exhaustion of a ripe old age, this trueSageof modern times passed away at his home in Cheyne Row, Chelsea, where he had lived for fifty years: and,—as theTimesremarked,—the world seemed duller, colder, and darker, in that this one grey old man had left it.No time was lost in collecting funds to provide for a public monument of the philosopher. The work was entrusted to Mr. J. E. Boehm, R.A., with the result of a most admirable statue in bronze, life-size, representing Carlyle as he was in his latter days, in an attitude of thought, seated in an arm-chair, and wearing his well-known dressing-gown. "For this noble piece of portraiture," Mr. Ruskin wrote of it, "I cannot trust myself to express my personal gratitude, or to speak at all of the high and harmonious measure in which it seems to me to express the mind and features of my dear master." It is appropriately placed in the little public garden, at the end of Great Cheyne Row, Chelsea, where Carlyle had spent the last forty years of his life. There, on October 26th, 1882, in presence of many of those who were his attached friends in life, it was unveiled by Professor Tyndall, who delivered an eloquent address on the occasion. Among those who assisted were Lord Houghton, Mrs. Oliphant, Miss Swanwick, Moncure D. Conway, Robert Browning, Dr. Martineau, Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, and others. A simple inscription on the massive pedestal, of Aberdeen granite, records the dates of the birth and death of the remarkable man in whose honour it is erected.—William Bates.[11]I mention the discovery of the body of Charles I. when George IV. was Prince Regent. It has been asserted, and is, I believe, true, that the nation wished the body of him whom they always called "the saint and martyr" to be removed from Windsor and buried in Westminster Abbey: and that a sum of no less than £70,000 was entrusted by Parliament to Charles II. to erect a tomb over the remains of his father. If the story be true, the entire sum disappeared and was not put to the intended purpose. It was, however, supposed that the "White King's"coffin, at any rate, had been transferred to the Abbey. It was in order to settle a doubt on this point that George IV., then Prince Regent, went down into the vaults of Windsor with the famous physician, Sir Henry Halford. There they found the coffins of Henry VIII. and of his wife, Lady Jane Seymour; and between them lay a coffin on which were rudely scratched the letters "C. I." In order to be sure that this was indeed the coffin of the executed king, they opened it—and there lay before them the handsome face, just as Vandyke depicted it; though (as always happens in such cases) the nose fell in immediately that the corpse was exposed to the open air. Then—I simply tell the tale as it was told to me; for, though there must be some printed account of the event, I have never seen it—Sir Henry Halford took up by the hair the decapitated head, and placed it on the palm of his hand, which was covered by his silk handkerchief. When he replaced the head in the coffin the vertebra of the neck, which had been smoothly severed by the axe of the executioner, was lying on his handkerchief; and the Prince Regent remarked to Sir Henry that this would be an interesting relic for him. He took it; and had it set in gold with the inscription, "Os Caroli Primi, heu intercisum." I believe that, by the wish and right-feeling of H. R. H. the Prince of Wales, this relic of the hapless king has been replaced in the coffin. Everyone will recall the sanguinary epigram of Lord Byron upon the incident which I have narrated.—Farrar.[12]In hisHistory of the Stage, Curll states that Nell first captivated the king by her manner of delivering the epilogue to Dryden'sTyrannic Love: or, The Royal Martyr. The tragedy was founded upon the story of the martyrdom of St. Catherine, by way of compliment to Catherine of Braganza. She personatedValeria, the daughter of Maximin, tyrant of Rome.[13]The massacre of St. Bartholomew lasted seven days, during which more than 5,000 persons were slain in Paris, and about 50,000 in the country. During all this season of murder, the king betrayed neither pity nor remorse, but fired with his long gun at the poor fugitives across the river; and on viewing the body of Coligni on a gibbet, he exulted with a fiendish malignity. In early life this monster had been noted for his cruelty: nothing gave him greater pleasure than cutting off the heads of asses or pigs with a single blow from his couteau de chasse. After the massacre, he is said to have contracted a singularly wild expression of feature, and to have slept little and waked in agonies. He attributed his thirst for human blood to the circumstance of his mother having at an early period of his life familiarized his mind with the brutal sport of hunting bullocks, and with all kinds of cruelty.—Winslow's Anatomy of Suicide, p. 52, note.[14]It is a tradition in Corsica that when St. Pantaleon was beheaded, thecaput mortuum, as it might have been thought, rose from the block and sang.A reliable gentleman who witnessed an execution, wrote as follows: "It appears to be the best of all modes of inflicting the punishment of death, combining the greatest impression on the spectator with the least possible suffering to the victim. It is so rapid that I should doubt whether there was any suffering; but from the expression of the countenance, when the executioner held up the head, I am inclined to believe that sense and consciousness may remain for a few seconds after the head is off. The eyes seemed to retain speculation for a moment or two, and there was a look in the ghastly stare with which they stared upon the crowd, which implied that the head was aware of its ignominious situation."[15]Upon the 14th of February, in the 30th year of Queen Mary, was Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, brought to the stake, where he first thrust his right hand into the fire (with which he had before subscribed a recantation) till it first, and then his whole body was consumed; but what was most remarkable, his heart remained whole, and was not once touched by the fire.—Baker's Chron. p. 463.We have the same story about the heart of Zuinglius. Three days after it had been cast into the fire to be burned to ashes some friends found it untouched by the flames.—Melch. Adam. Vit. p. 37."Mr. J. C. Jeaffresonin his book 'The Real Shelley' writes: 'All the world knows how Shelley's torn and disfigured corpse was reduced to ashes and a few fragments of bone (with the exception of the heart that wouldnotbe burnt) on the pyre;' and probably, since Trelawny, shortly after the poet's death, reported that 'his heart remained entire,' his statement has been unhesitatingly accepted. I have, however, reason for thinking that the story does not rest on trustworthy evidence."When a body is burnt the part which longest resists the action of the fire after the base of the skull and one or two of the most solid portions of bone, is the liver. The heart, being hollow and smaller, is easily destroyed: but the liver, a moist and solid mass, repels intense heat, and ultimately deposits an ash of pure carbon, which no continued burning or increase of temperature can further change. In the cemetery of Milan where I have seen human cremations completely carried out in seventy minutes by Signor Venini's reverberatory furnace, the best method known, I also learned that the liver, perhaps from its containing this element of carbon, can endure for a considerable time even that concentrated whirlwind of fire, and remain almost intact after the heart has totally disappeared. Moreover, in Shelley's case the liver would have been saturated with sea-water, and thereby rendered still more incombustible. It is extremely improbable that Byron, Leigh Hunt, or Trelawny knew enough anatomy to identify accurately the charred substance they took to be the heart, and it is more likely, owing to the thin edge of the liver being consumed, and its size consequently being much reduced, that they mistook the shrunken remains of the one organ for the whole of the other."From observing the Milanese cremations alluded to I think it barely possible that the human heart is ever capable of withstanding fire for more than a brief period; but since Mr. J. A. Symonds asserts, to my surprise, that Shelley's heart was given by Leigh Hunt to Mrs. Shelley, and is now at Boscombe, the seat of the present baronet, it would be easy for some competent anatomist to determine the question I have raised."In any case, the hero-worshipping and sentimental tourists who go in crowds to that lovely spot beneath the pyramid of Caius Cestius to mourn over Shelley's untimely fate have been strangely deceived for more than sixty years in believing that beneath the marble graven with the touching words 'Cor Cordium' lies the flame proof heart of their favorite poet."—Bicknell.[16]The man whose mind, on virtue bent,Pursues some greatly good intent,With undiverted aim,Serene beholds the angry crowd;Nor can their clamors, fierce and loud,His stubborn honor tame.Not the proud tyrant's fiercest threat,Nor storms, that from their dark retreatThe lawless surges wake;Not Jove's dread bolt, that shakes the pole,The firmer purpose of his soulWith all its power can shake.Should nature's frame in ruins fall,And chaos o'er the sinking ballResume the primeval sway,His courage chance and fate defies,Nor feels the wreck of earth and skiesObstruct its destined way.Translated by Blacklocke.[17]Charles V., of Spain, seems to have entertained the same morbid desire for a personal acquaintance with his ownpostmortemappearance and condition. In Robertson's History of the Reign of the Emperor Charles V. we have this account of the monarch's attendance upon his own funeral: "He resolved to celebrate his own obsequies before his death. He ordered his tomb to be erected in the chapel of the monastery. His domestics marched thither in funeral procession, with black tapers in their hands. He himself followed in his shroud. He was laid in his coffin with much solemnity. The service for the dead was chanted, and Charles joined in the prayers which were offered up for the rest of his soul, mingling his tears with those which his attendants shed, as if they had been celebrating a real funeral. The ceremony closed with sprinkling holy water on the coffin in the usual form, and all the assistants retiring, the doors of the chapel were shut. Then Charles rose out of the coffin, and withdrew to his apartment, full of those awful sentiments which such a singular solemnity was calculated to inspire." This story is somewhat changed in Stirling's "Cloister Life of the Emperor Charles V."If I must die, I'll snatch at every thingThat may but mind me of my latest breath;Death's-heads, Graves, Knells, Blacks, Tombs, all these shall bringInto my soul such useful thoughts of death,That this sable king of fearsShall not catch me unawares.—Quarles.[18]These instructions were probably ignored; for, when his tomb was opened by the Society of Antiquaries in 1771, those present gazed for a moment on the features of the great victor before they sank into dust. The gold cloth was still folded round the colossal corpse; and the cast in the eyes was distinctly noticeable. The snow-white hair still remained. The coffin was then filled with pitch.—Farrar.John Zisca, general of the insurgents who took up arms in 1419 against the Emperor Sigismund, seems to have had a like spirit with Edward I. He would revenge the deaths of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, who had been cruelly burned at the stake for their religious faith. He defeated the Emperor in several pitched battles, and gave orders that, after his death, they should make a drum out of his skin. The order was most religiously obeyed, and those very remains of the enthusiastic Zisca proved, for many years, fatal to the Emperor, who, with difficulty, in the space of sixteen years, recovered Bohemia, assisted by the forces of Germany. The insurgents were 40,000 in number, and well disciplined.[19]There is a dim tradition that, much more than a century ago, the tomb under which the two sister-queens—Mary, the Roman Catholic, and Elizabeth, the Protestant,regno consortes et urna—lie side by side had fallen into disrepair, and that a bold Westminster boy crept into the hollow vault, and, through an aperture in the coffin, laid his hand on the heart of the mighty Tudor queen.—Farrar.[20]The quiet little town of Concord is greatly stirred up over the discovery of a dastardly attempt on Saturday night to rob the last resting place of its noted dead, the grave of Ralph Waldo Emerson. The fact that the grave had been visited by vandals was discovered early Sunday afternoon by a visitor to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, where the remains are interred. At the head of the grave was a large aperture seven feet in depth and twenty inches wide extending to the box containing the casket.An alarm was at once given, and the town authorities, together with the Sleepy Hollow Commissioners, made an investigation. The perpetrators of the deed have not been discovered, but the theory is that the attempted vandalism was made some time during Saturday night, and the villains were frightened away by some passing team on the Bedford road just adjacent. Whether the motive was to obtain possession of the remains, or to despoil the casket of its valuable trimmings, is, of course, a matter of conjecture; but the general impression is that the skull was what was most wanted. The wooden box inclosing the casket had decayed somewhat, the interment having taken place over seven years ago, and in the earth which the rascals had thrown out were some pieces of the box. One side of the casket had fallen down a little, but this is attributable to natural decay. Otherwise the casket had not been disturbed or opened.Mr. Edward W. Emerson, son of Ralph Waldo, arrived home this afternoon, and the investigation of the desecration of his father's grave was immediately entered upon by him with the town authorities. Mr. Emerson has been out of town for two weeks or more, and the first information he had of the affair was that given him upon his arrival this noon. The earth has been replaced, and a watch placed over the grave.N. Y. Times, Oct. 15, 1889.[21]It has been suggested that Franklin was helped to his famous epitaph upon himself by Benjamin Woodbridge's funeral elegy upon John Cotton, preserved in Mather's Magnalia:"A living, breathing Bible; tables whereBest covenants at large engraven were;Gospel and law in his heart had each its column;His head an index to the sacred volume;His very name a title-page; and nextHis life a commentary on the text.O, what a monument of glorious worth,When in a new edition he comes forth,Without erratas, may we think he'll beIn leaves and covers of eternity."[22]Mr. Carlyle may well call it a "characteristic trait" in his favorite Friedrich Wilhelm, as that "wild son of Nature" lay a-dying, that on a certain German hymn which he "much loved" being sung to him, or along with him,—when they came to the words, "Naked I came into the world, and naked shall I go out,"—"No," said he, with vivacity, "not quite naked; I shall have my uniform on." After which the singing went on again with vivacity, akin to that with which the mother of Henri Quatre—not left the world, but brought her son into it; for historians, without romancing, tell us she sung a gay Béarnais song as her brave boy was coming into the world at Pau.[23]Mr. Berkley, of Knightsbridge, who died in 1805, left a pension of £25 per annum to his four dogs. This man, when he felt his end approaching, called for his four dogs. These were placed by his side; and he reached them his trembling hand, caressed them, and breathed his last between their paws. The four dogs were sculptured, according to his last wish, upon the corners of his tomb.[24]The King of Siam is sending an envoy to India to receive the relics of Buddha, discovered some time ago on the Nepal frontier, which were offered his Majesty by the Indian Government. The King, who gratefully accepted the offer, has agreed to distribute portions of the relics among the Buddhists of Burma and Ceylon from Bangkok. It will probably be remembered that in January last a well-preserved stupa was opened at the village of Piprahwa, on the Nepal frontier, in the Basti district of the North-west Provinces. This village was in the Birdpur grant, a large property owned by Mr. William C. Peppé and his brother. Inside the building was found a large stone coffer, crystal and steatite vases, bone and ash relics, fragments of lime, plaster, and wooden vessels, and a large quantity of jewels and ornaments placed in two vases in honor of the relics. A careful list was at once made of all the articles, and Mr. Peppé generously offered to place them at the disposal of the Government. The special interest of the discovery lies in the fact that the relics in honor of which the stupa was erected appear to be those of Gautama Buddha Sakya Muni himself, and may be the actual share of the relics taken by the Sakyas of Kapilavastir at the time of the cremation of Gautama Buddha.The inscription on one of the urns proves that the builders of the stupa believed the relics to be those of Gautama Buddha himself, and runs: "This relic-receptacle of the Blessed Sakya Buddha is dedicated by the renowned brethren with their sisters and their sons' wives." The characters of the record, Prof. Bührer points out, do not mark medial long vowels, and appear to be older than those of the Asoka inscription.The actual relics, being a matter of such intense interest to the Buddhist world, were offered by the Indian Government to the King of Siam, who is the only existing Buddhist monarch, with a proviso that he would not object to offer a portion of the relics to the Buddhists of Burma and Ceylon, and it was suggested that his Majesty should send a deputation to receive the sacred relics with due ceremonial.No relics of Buddha authenticated by a direct inscription have before been found in modern times, so the relics are as rare as they are unique, and by all Buddhists will be regarded as most sacred and holy objects of devotion. Their presentation to the King of Siam, the recognized head of the religion, is therefore highly proper. The accessories which were discovered will, it is understood, be distributed among the Imperial Museum at Calcutta, the Lucknow Provincial Museum, and perhaps the British Museum, Mr. Peppé retaining a reasonable number of duplicates for his own use. The stone coffer above referred to is over four feet in length and two in height. It is made out of a solid block of sandstone, and weighs about sixteen hundredweight. It is understood that the acknowledgments of the Government have been conveyed to Mr. Peppé for his public-spirited action in the matter.—London Times, Dec. 17, 1886.[25]A paragraph from one of Mr. Gough's public addresses, carved upon his monument in Hope Cemetery, Worcester, shows the strength of his conviction and illustrates the directness and force of his style:"I can desire nothing better for this great country than that a barrier high as heaven be raised between the unpolluted lips of the children and the intoxicating cup; that everywhere men and women should raise strong and determined hands against whatever will defile the body, pollute the mind, or harden the heart against God and His truth."[26]Tacitus said, "At my funeral let no tokens of sorrow be seen, no pompous mockery of woe. Crown me with chaplets, strew flowers on my grave, and let my friends erect no vain memorial to tell where my remains are lodged."Ludovious Cortesius, a rich lawyer at Padua, commanded by his last will, that no man should lament; but, as at a wedding, music and minstrels to be a delight to the people, should be provided; and instead of black mourners, he ordered that twelve virgins clad in green should carry him to the church.The Hon. T. G. Shearman wrote in his diary (read at his funeral in Plymouth church, Brooklyn, N. Y.) under date of May 21, 1894: "Give me an unostentatious, cheery funeral, in no darkened room, and with no dreariness of any kind."[27]It has been thought that Lieber's death was occasioned by rupture of the heart. See the last words of Charles Sumner and the foot note on his sudden death. See also the last words of John Palmer and the account of his death appended from the Annual Register.[28]In theLast Journalsthe date is May 1st; on the stone, May 4th. The attendants could not quite determine the day.[29]The section of the tree containing the inscription made by Jacob Wainwright has been brought to England and deposited in the house of the Geographical Society.[30]To some of the most distinguished of our race death has come in the strangest possible way, and so grotesquely as to subtract greatly from the dignity of the sorrow it must certainly have occasioned. Æschylus, whose seventy tragedies, to say nothing of his many satiric dramas, have given their author an immortal name, was killed by the fall of a tortoise on his bald head from the talons of an eagle high in the air above him.There was a singular propriety in the death of Anacreon by choking at a grape stone or a dried grape. The poet whose sweetest and most enticing lines celebrate wine and love came to his death at the ripe age of eighty-five from the fruit of the vine. Agathocles, the tyrant of Syracuse, was given by the treacherous Maenon a poisoned toothpick which soon rendered his mouth incurably gangrened, and deprived him of the power of speech. While in this miserable and helpless condition he was stretched upon the funeral pile and burned alive.Fabius, the Roman praetor, died from the same cause that occasioned the death of Anacreon. A single goat hair in the milk he was drinking, lodged in his trachea and choked him. Chalchas, the soothsayer, outlived the time predicted for his death, which struck him as so comical that he burst into a fit of most immoderate laughter from which he died. Thus also died the famous Marquette, who was convulsed with a fatal merriment on seeing a monkey trying to pull on a pair of boots. Philomenes was seized with an equally disastrous merriment when he came suddenly upon an ass that was devouring with greediness the choice figs that had been prepared for his own desert.Laughter killed the great Zeuxis, of whom Pliny relates the story of a trial of skill with the painter Parrhasius. The former painted a bunch of grapes that were so natural a bird endeavored to eat the fruit. Charles VIII., while gallantly conducting his queen into the tennis court, struck his head against the lintel and died soon after from the accident.Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales, was struck by a cricket ball, which caused his death. A pig occasioned the death of Louis VI., the creature ran under the monarch's horse causing it to stumble. But of all strange deaths that of Itadach is the strangest. He expired from thirst while toiling in the harvest field, because, in obedience to the rule of St. Patrick, he would not drink "a drop of anything."[31]Her Will, by which her personalty, sworn under £10,000, is suitably divided among her brothers and sisters, an old servant, and a few friends, contains one peculiar provision which indicates the desire of the testatrix, even when dead, to benefit the living. "It is my desire," she says, "from an interest in the progress of scientific investigation, that my Skull should be given to Henry George Atkinson, of Upper Gloucester Place, London, and also my Brain, if my death should take place within such distance of his then present abode, as to enable him to have it for the purposes of scientific observation." By the second codicil, dated October 5th, 1872, this direction is revoked; "but," the codicil proceeds, "I wish to leave it on record that this alteration in my testamentary directions is not caused by any change of opinion as to the importance of scientific observation on such subjects, but is made in consequence merely of a change of circumstances in my individual case." The "circumstances" alluded to were doubtless these. When the removal of Miss Martineau to London took place, the "Burke and Hare" murders, and "body-snatching" generally, were the special horrors of the day. The only authorized supply of "subjects" for dissection was from the gallows; and philanthropic persons sought by selling the reversion of their bodies (a transaction which, legally, does not hold good), or like Jeremy Bentham, leaving them to some institution, or medical expert, by a special bequest (also nugatory), to dissolve the association of disgrace with the necessary procedure of dissection. The difficulty was, in great measure, relieved by the passing of Mr. Warburton's Bill; and hence the necessity for such an arrangement as that made by Miss Martineau ceased to exist. The singular provision, had however, become known; and shortly after the execution of the document, the testatrix received a letter from the celebrated aurist, Mr. Toynbee, asking her point-blank to bequeath him a "legacy of her ears." She had suffered from deafness all her life; a large amount of mischief and misery was caused by the ignorance of surgeons with regard to the auditory apparatus; and this ignorance could only be removed by such means as he proposed. The lady to whom this strange request was made, says with grim humour, that she felt "rather amused when she caught herself in a feeling of shame, as it were, at having only one pair of ears,—at having no duplicate for Mr. Toynbee, after having disposed otherwise of her skull." She, however, told him how the matter actually stood; and a meeting took place between the doctor and the legatee, "to ascertain whether one head could, in any way, be made to answer both their objects."An autopsy of her body was eventually made by Dr. T. M. Greenhow, of Leeds; a full detail of the appearances at which will be found in theBritish Medical Journal, for April 14th, 1877, p. 449.—William Bates in "The Maclise Portrait Gallery."[32]Mlle. Maillard, the actress, is mentioned by Lamartine as one of the Goddesses, who was compelled to play the part much against her will. "Chaumette, assisted by Laïs, an actor of the Opera, had arranged the fête of December 20, 1793. Mademoiselle Maillard, an actress, brilliant with youth and talents, played the part of the goddess. She was borne in a palanquin, the canopy of which was formed of oak branches. Women in white, with tri-colored sashes, preceded her. Attired with theatrical buskins, a Phrygian cap and a blue chlamys over a transparent tunic, she was taken to the foot of the altar and seated there. Behind her burnt an immense torch, symbolizing 'the flame of philosophy,' the true light of the world. Chaumette, taking a censer in his hands, fell on his knees to the goddess, and offered incense, and the whole concluded with dancing and song."—Lamartine.There was also a Goddess of Liberty. The wife of Momoro went attended by the municipal officers, national guards and troops of ballet girls to the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris. Gobet (the archbishop of Paris), and nearly all the bishops, vicars, canons, priests, and curés of Paris stripped themselves of their canonicals, donned the red nightcap, and joined in this blasphemous mockery.[33]Jeremy Bentham, when he firmly believed that he was near his last hour, said to one of his disciples, who was watching over him:—"I now feel that I am dying. Our care must be to minimize the pain. Do not let any of the servants come into the room, and keep away the youths. It will be distressing to them, and they can be of no service. Yet I must not be alone, and you will remain with me, and you only, and then we shall have reduced the pain to the least possible amount."Bentham dreaded the silence and darkness of the grave, and wished to remain even after his death in a world of living men. He left his body to Dr. Southwood Smith who was to perform certain experiments to ascertain that no life remained. After these experiments the following disposition was to be made of his remains: "The skeleton Dr. Smith shall cause to be put together in such manner that the whole figure may be seated in a chair usually occupied by me when living, in the attitude in which I am sitting when engaged in thought in the course of the time employed in writing. I direct that the body, thus prepared, shall be transferred to my executor, and that he shall cause the skeleton to be clothed in one of the suits of black usually worn by me. The body so clothed, together with the chair and the staff in my later years borne by me, he shall take charge of, and for containing the whole apparatus he shall cause to be prepared an appropriate box or case, and shall cause to be engraved in conspicuous characters on a plate to be affixed thereon, and also in the glass case in which the preparations of the soft parts of my body shall be contained, as, for example, in the manner used in the case of wine decanters; my name at length with the lettersob: followed by the day of my decease. If it should so happen that my personal friends and other disciples should be disposed to meet together on some day, or days of the year for the purpose of commemorating the founder of the Greatest Happiness System of Morals and Legislation, my executor shall cause to be conveyed into the room in which they meet the case with its contents."Humphry Repton, author of a delightful book on "Landscape Gardening and Landscape Architecture," requested that his remains might be deposited in a "garden of roses." He selected a small enclosure by the church of Aylsham, in Norfolk, one of the most lovely spots in all England, where were a number of roses and vines, as his last resting place. On the monument over his grave, after his name and age, are these lines written by himself:—"Not like the Egyptian tyrants—consecrate,Unmixt with others shall my dust remain;But mouldering, blended, melting into earth,Mine shall give form and colour to the rose;And while its vivid blossoms cheer mankind,Its perfum'd odour shall ascend to heaven."[34]Malinche, Montezuma's name for Cortes, was borrowed from the original name of the conqueror's mistress and interpreter, known in the Spanish records as Marina. See "Death of Montezuma," in Prescott's "Conquest of Mexico."[35]The world recedes. It disappears.Heaven opens to 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!—Pope: "The Dying Christian to his Soul."[36]It has been generally supposed that the burial of Sir John Moore, who fell at the battle of Corunna, in 1809, took place during the night, an error which doubtless arose from the statement to that effect in Wolfe's celebrated lines. Rev. Mr. Symons, who was the clergyman on the occasion, states, however, in "Notes and Queries," that the burial took place in the morning, in broad day-light.[37]A common undistinguished grave received the coffin, which was then left without memorial—almost forgotten—for nearly twenty years; and when, in 1808, some inquiries were made as to the precise spot of the interment, all that the sexton could tell was that, at the latter end of 1791, the space about the third and fourth row from the cross was being occupied with graves; but the contents of these graves being from time to time exhumed, nothing could be determined concerning that which was once Mozart.—Home's "Life of Mozart."[38]The heart of the first Napoleon had a narrow escape from disappearing forever, elsewhere than in the tomb. It is recorded that when he died at St. Helena his heart was extracted for preservation. The English physician who had charge of it placed it in a silver basin containing water, and leaving tapers burning beside it retired to rest. Sleep, however, visited him not, and suddenly, breaking the silence, he heard first a rustling, then a plunge in the water of the basin, then a fall with a rebound on the floor, all in quick succession. Springing from his couch, the physician saw an enormous rat dragging Bonaparte's heart to its hole: in a few moments more it would have formed a meal for rats.[39]The effects of Mr. Cobbett were sold by auction, in 1836; and the bones brought forward to be offered for competition. The auctioneer, however, refused to put them up; and they were withdrawn, and remained in the possession of the receiver. This gentleman, desiring to be relieved, awaited the orders of the Lord Chancellor; but the latter, upon the matter being mentioned to him in court, refused to recognize them as part of the estate, or make any order respecting them. The receiver thus continued to hold them; but finding that none of the creditors would relieve him of them, or, indeed, make inquiry about them, he transferred them, in 1844, to a Mr. Tilley, who retained them in his possession until a public funeral could be arranged. I have never heard that this has been done, and know nothing more of theseThomæ venerabilis ossa.—William Bates: "The Maclise Portrait Gallery."Ode to the Bones of the Im-mortal Thomas Paine, newly transported from America to England, by the no less Im-mortal William Cobbett, Esq., by Thomas Rodd, Senr., the Bookseller (London, 1819, 4to).A Brief History of the Remains of the late Thomas Paine, from the time of their disinterment, in 1819, by the late William Cobbett, M.P., down to the year 1846(London, Watson, 1847); andNotes and Queries, Fourth Series."How Tom gets a living now ... I know not, nor does it much signify. He has done all the mischief he can in the world; and whether his carcase is at last to be suffered to rot on the earth, or to be dried in the air, is of very little consequence. Whenever or wherever he breathes his last, he will excite neither sorrow nor compassion; no friendly hand will close his eyes, not a groan will be uttered, not a tear will be shed. LikeJudas, he will be remembered by posterity;men will learn to express all that is base, malignant, treacherous, unnatural, and blasphemous, by the single monosyllable—Paine!"—Life of Thomas Paine, by William Cobbett.[40]It is said that Peter was crucified with his head down, himself so requesting, because he thought himself unworthy to be crucified in the same manner as his Lord.[41]On some occasion of alteration in the church at Twickenham, England, or burial of some one in the same spot, the coffin of Pope was disinterred, and opened to see the state of the remains. By a bribe to the sexton of the time, possession of the skull was obtained for the night, and another skull was returned in place of it. Fifty pounds were paid for the successful management of this transaction. Whether this account is correct or not, the fact is that the skull of Pope figures in a private museum.—William Howitt.The head of the celebrated Duc de Richelieu, like that of Pope, the Mahdi, and Swendenborg, is above ground. At the time of the revolution in France the body of the Duke was exhumed from its grave in the Church of the Sorbonne. This having been subjected to numerous indignities, the head was cut off, and the latter eventually came into the possession of a grocer, who afterward sold it to M. Armez, the elder. M. Armez, after the Restoration, offered the head to the then Duc de Richelieu, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who took no notice whatever of the offer. The son of M. Armez inherited the skull. In 1846 the illustrious Montalembert, when President of the Historical Committee of Arts and Monuments, at the instance of his colleagues, did his best to recover the head of the Duke, but without success. M. F. Feuillet de Conches, in his "Causeries d'un Curieux," makes this comment: "We accuse no one, still the fact is undeniable that this terrible head, the personification of the absolute monarchy killing the aristocratic monarchy, is wandering upon the earth like a spectre that has straggled out of the domain of the dead."[42]John Chastel was torn to pieces sixteen years before, for attempting the life of the same monarch. Salcede, the Spaniard, endeavored to assassinate Henri III., and was accordingly dismembered. Nicholas de Salvado and Balthazar de Gerrard suffered in the same way for attacking William, Prince of Orange. Livy records that Mettius Suffetius was dismembered by chariots for deserting the Roman cause.[43]According to a writer in the Chicago "Open Court," the main cause of the death of Robert Louis Stevenson was probably his consumption of tobacco. Two years before his death he confessed that his bill for cigars amounted to $450 a year; and during the last six months of his life he smoked an average of forty cigarettes per day, and often as many as eighty in twenty-four hours. Can any one wonder that this frightful habit induced chronic insomnia, to cure or lessen which he smoked all night, till narcosis of the brain brought on stupefaction and temporary loss of consciousness—for weeks his nearest approach to refreshing slumber. His physician warned him in vain that he was burning life's candle at both ends, for he tried to write in spite of his misery; but he stuck to nicotine as the only specific for his nervousness, with the result that was inevitable,—his death a year afterwards.—Mathews: "Nugæ Litterariæ."[44]Rupture of the heart, it is believed, was first described by Harvey; but since his day several cases have been observed. Morgagni has recorded a few examples: Amongst them that of George II., who died suddenly, of this disease in 1760; and, what is very curious, Morgagni himself fell a victim to the same malady. Dr. Elliotson, in his Lumleyan Lecture on Diseases of the Heart, in 1839, stated that he had only seen one instance; but in the Cyclopædia of Practical Medicine, Dr. Townsend gives a table of twenty-five cases, collected from various authors. Generally this accident is consequent upon some organic disease, such as fatty degeneration; but it may arise from violent muscular exertion, or strong mental emotions.—Welby: "Mysteries of Life, Death and Futurity."Dr. William Stroud endeavors to prove, in his "The Physical Cause of the Death of Christ," that our Saviour died upon the cross from rupture of the heart, produced by agony of mind. He says: "In the garden of Gethsemane Christ endured mental agony so intense that, had it not been limited by divine interposition, it would probably have destroyed his life without the aid of any other sufferings; but having been thus mitigated, its effects were confined to violent palpitation of the heart, accompanied with bloody sweat. On the cross this agony was renewed, in conjunction with the ordinary sufferings incidental to that mode of punishment; and having at this time been allowed to proceed to its utmost extremity without restraint, occasioned sudden death by rupture of the heart, intimated by a discharge of blood and water from his side, when it was afterward pierced with a spear."[45]Swedenborg was buried in the vault of the Swedish Church in Prince's Square, on April 5, 1772. In 1790, in order to determine a question raised in debate, viz., whether Swedenborg was really dead and buried, his wooden coffin was opened, and the leaden one was sawn across the breast. A few days after, a party of Swedenborgians visited the vault. "Various relics" (says White: "Life of Swedenborg," 2nd ed., 1868, p. 675) "were carried off: Dr. Spurgin told me he possessed the cartilage of an ear. Exposed to the air, the flesh quickly fell to dust, and a skeleton was all that remained for subsequent visitors.... At a funeral in 1817, Granholm, an officer in the Swedish Navy, seeing the lid of Swedenborg's coffin loose, abstracted the skull, and hawked it about amongst London Swedenborgians, but none would buy. Dr. Wählin, pastor of the Swedish Church, recovered what he supposed to be the stolen skull, had a cast of it taken, and placed it in the coffin in 1819. The cast which is sometimes seen in phrenological collections is obviously not Swedenborg's: it is thought to be that of a small female skull."[46]Being asked by the sheriff to explain these words, he said: "I am as you see, a man that hath a very great carcass, which I thought should have been buried in Hadley churchyard, if I had died in my bed, as I well hoped I should have done. But herein I see I was deceived. And there are a great number of worms in Hadley churchyard, which should have had jolly feeding upon this carrion which they have looked for many a day. But now I know we be deceived, both I and they; for this carcass must be burnt to ashes, and so shall they lose their bait and feeding that they looked to have had of it." Fox, the martyrologist, adds that, "when the sheriff and his company heard these words they were amazed, and looked at one another, marvelling at the man's constant mind, that thus without all fear made but a jest at the cruel torment and death now at hand prepared for him."[47]Thus also did Themistocles, the most renowned of Grecian generals, grieve that when he had acquired the wisdom necessary for a useful life, it was time to die.[48]The luminous faces and bodies of martyrs and saints are common enough in the chronicles of mediæval miracles. Some modern physicians think there were physiological causes for the strange and, at the time, startling phenomena.Bartholin, in his treatise "De Luce Hominum et Brutorum" (1647), gives an account of an Italian lady whom he designates as "mulier splendens," whose body shone with phosphoric radiations when gently rubbed with dry linen; and Dr. Kane, in his last voyage to the polar regions, witnessed almost as remarkable a case of phosphorescence. A few cases are recorded by Sir H. Marsh, Professor Donovan and other undoubted authorities, in which the human body, shortly before death, has presented a pale, luminous appearance.On the eve of St. Alcuin's death (May 19th, 804), the entire monastery was enveloped in a mysterious light, so that many thought the building was on fire. The soul of the saint was seen to ascend in the form of a dove, and the spectators heard celestial music in the air.—Early Superstitions.The soul of St. Engelbert while going up to heaven was so bright that St. Hermann mistook it for the moon.Andrew Jackson Davis (the "Poughkeepsie Seer") records that while in the clairvoyant condition he saw the entire process of the soul's disengagement from the body.—"The Great Harmonia,"vol.1,p.163.[49]It was commonly believed that the immortal soul escaped from the dead body through the mouth. Sometimes it passed out under the form of a bird, and sometimes it seemed to be a vapor. The appearance of the departing soul is mentioned as a known fact, by the celebrated mystic, Jacob Böhmen, in his curious book. "The Three Principles," where it is described as that of "a blue vapor going forth out of the mouth of a dying man, which maketh a strong smell all over the chamber."[50]Dr. Moore states that when the vital flame was flickering, the heart was faltering with every pulse, and every breath was a convulsion, he said to a dying believer, who had not long before been talking in broken words of undying love, "Are you in pain?" and the reply, with apparently the last breath, was, "It is delightful!" In another person, in whom a gradual disease had so nearly exhausted the physical powers that the darkness of death had already produced blindness, the sense of God's love was so overpowering, that every expression for many hours referred to it in rapturous words, such as, "This is life—this is heaven—God is love—I need not faith—I have the promise." It is easy to attribute such expressions to delirium; but this does not alter their character, nor the reality of the state of the soul which produces them. Whether a dying man can maintain any continued attention to things through his senses, we need not inquire. It is enough for him, if, in the spirit, he possesses the peace and joy of believing.—The Use of the Body in Relation to the Mind.[51]"And Meonothai begat Ophrah: and Seraiah begat Joab,the father of the Valley of Charashim; for they were craftsmen."—1 Chronicles iv: 14; Julius Cæsar was called the Father of his country; Cosmo de Medici is so described on his tombstone; Andrea Doria has upon his statue at Genoa,Pater Patriæ; and Louis XVIII. of France was commonly called the Father of the Country.[52]The United States has produced no greater orator than Daniel Webster; nevertheless, in the minds of many, he fell from his most exalted station as the interpreter of the public conscience, when he delivered, March 7, 1850, his famous speech, assenting to the Fugitive Slave Law. It was this speech that called forth Whittier's poem "Ichabod," which has been often compared with Browning's "Lost Leader."[53]Walter von der Vogelweid requested that he might repose where a leafy tree should cast its shadow, and the light of the summer day should linger long; and that the birds might be fed every day from the stone over his grave. See Longfellow's beautiful poem, "Walter von der Vogelweid."[54]Horace lib. iii, Ode 3.[55]Sir Charles Blagden, the distinguished English physician and chemist (1748-1820) died so quietly and peacefully that not a drop of coffee in the cup which he held in his hand was spilt. He was sitting in his chair at a social meal with his friends, Monsieur and Madame Berthollet, and Gay Lussac. Dr. Joseph Black, also a famous physician, died whilst eating his customary meal of bread and milk, and so quiet and peaceful was his departure that he did not even spill the contents of a spoon which he held in his hand.[56]William Wordsworth died April 23rd, 1850, at the age of 80, and was buried in the little centry-garth of St. Oswald's, Grasmere, between, as De Quincey records, "a yew-tree of his own planting, and an aged thorn." On his tombstone is an inscription from the pen of Keble, in which he is styled, "a chief minister, not only of noblest poesy, but of high and Sacred truth." Surely the tender lover of Nature, and high-priest of her mysteries, could have no fitter resting-place than this Westmoreland churchyard, where, as some one has written, "the turf is washed green by summer dew, and winter rain, and in early spring is beautifully dappled with lichens and golden moss?" This reads very prettily, and represents the thing as it should be. But what are the facts? The literary pilgrim who may chance to visit the spot will follow a narrow muddy path among the grave mounds, till he reaches a gloomy dingy corner, with a group of blue-black head-stones of funereal slate. Everything round the place is decayed and blighted; no green grass is there; all is dull, dark and depressing. The poet's corner is ill-drained; and there is a tiny moat of water round the base of the stone curb, in which is fixed the iron railing that surrounds the grave. Yet here is a remarkable group of memorial tombs. Near to the poet lie all the beloved members of his household. Here slumbers his favorite sister, Dorothy; here, too, Mrs. Wordsworth,—Dora Wordsworth,—her husband, Edward Quillinan, the poet, and translator of theLusiad,—the two infant children of Wordsworth,—and behind these, Hartley Coleridge, that "inheritor of unfulfilled renown," whose bier the poet followed one snowy day in January, unwitting that, before the trees were again clad with verdure, he would be borne along the same narrow path to his own long rest. Surely something should be done to rescue the poet's monument from decay, and render it more in accordance with the verdant foliage and the sun-bright hills around, of which he sung so lovingly and so well.William Bates.

[1]Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria PætoQuem de visceribus traxerat ipsa suis,Si qua fides, vulnus, quod feci, non dolet, inquit;Sed quod tu facies, hoc mihi, Pæte, dolet.

Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria PætoQuem de visceribus traxerat ipsa suis,Si qua fides, vulnus, quod feci, non dolet, inquit;Sed quod tu facies, hoc mihi, Pæte, dolet.

[2]Charles I., of England, put on two shirts the morning of his execution, saying, "If I tremble with cold, my enemies will say it was from fear: I will not expose myself to such reproaches."—Lingard: "History of England."

[3]See Voltaire's "Account of the Death of the Chevalier de la Barre."

[4]Enter theKing,Salisbury,Warwick, to theCardinalin bed.King.How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign.Car.If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain.King.Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, Where death's approach is seen so terrible!War.Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee:Car.Bring me unto my trial when you will. Died he not in his bed? where should he die? Can I make men live, whether they will or no? O, torture me no more! I will confess. Alive again? Then show me where he is: I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him. He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them. Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright, Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul. Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.King.O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! O, beat away the busy meddling fiend That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, And from his bosom purge this black despair!War.See how the pangs of death do make him grin!Sal.Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably.King.Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be! Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope. He dies, and makes no sign. O God, forgive him!War.So bad a death argues a monstrous life.King.Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation.Exeunt. —King Henry VI, Part II, Act iii.

[4]Enter theKing,Salisbury,Warwick, to theCardinalin bed.

King.How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign.

Car.If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain.

King.Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, Where death's approach is seen so terrible!

War.Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee:

Car.Bring me unto my trial when you will. Died he not in his bed? where should he die? Can I make men live, whether they will or no? O, torture me no more! I will confess. Alive again? Then show me where he is: I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him. He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them. Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright, Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul. Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.

King.O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! O, beat away the busy meddling fiend That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, And from his bosom purge this black despair!

War.See how the pangs of death do make him grin!

Sal.Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably.

King.Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be! Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope. He dies, and makes no sign. O God, forgive him!

War.So bad a death argues a monstrous life.

King.Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation.

Exeunt. —King Henry VI, Part II, Act iii.

[5]Lablache (1794-1858), the celebrated French singer and actor, whose wonderful voice, embracing two full octaves, has been described as firmer and more expressive than that of any singer of his time or before it, attempted to sing upon his death-bed. He bade his son go to the piano and accompany him. The young man, struggling with emotion, obeyed. Lablache sang in English the first stanza ofHome, Sweet Home. At the second stanza the muscles of the throat refused to move; not a note could he sound. In distress and great amazement he gazed around him for a moment, and then, closing his eyes, fell asleep in death.It is recorded of Captain Hamilton, whose portrait was painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds, that he came to his death in this wise: "He imprudently ventured in a boat from his ship to land at Plymouth, on a tempestuous day, all in his impatience to rejoin his wife ashore. The boat turned keel upwards, and the captain, being a good swimmer, trusted to his skill, and would not accept of a place on the keel, but, that he might leave room there for others, clung merely to the edge of the boat. His great coat was a hindrance to him, and this he attempted to throw off; but, in the words of Lord Eliot, whose too are the italics, 'finding his strength fail, he told the men he must yield to his fate, and soon afterwards sank whilesinging a psalm.'"—Francis Jacox.When Latour was guillotined at Foix, in 1864, for the murder of a family of four persons, great was the throng in the streets, despite the heavy rain that fell; for, to ensure a good attendance, the condemned man had announced his intention to compose for the occasion a series of verses, which he would sing on his way (in a cart,vis-à-viswith messieurs the headsmen) from prison to scaffold. And sing them he did, all the way—a matter of some three hundred and fifty yards. Lightly he tripped up the steps of the scaffold, and then, after a deliberate survey of the crowd below and all around, he thundered forth,tonna, the following lines—a parody, or rather a personal appropriation, of the Marseillaise:"Allons, pauvre victime,Ton jour de mort est arrivé:Contre toi de la tyrannieLe couteau sanglant est levé!"Being then tied to the plank and flung into the usual horizontal position in order to be brought under the blade, he still went on—Allons, pauvre victime,Ton jour de mort... —until a heavy sound was heard, the blade fell, something else fell with it, and all was over.—Jacox.

It is recorded of Captain Hamilton, whose portrait was painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds, that he came to his death in this wise: "He imprudently ventured in a boat from his ship to land at Plymouth, on a tempestuous day, all in his impatience to rejoin his wife ashore. The boat turned keel upwards, and the captain, being a good swimmer, trusted to his skill, and would not accept of a place on the keel, but, that he might leave room there for others, clung merely to the edge of the boat. His great coat was a hindrance to him, and this he attempted to throw off; but, in the words of Lord Eliot, whose too are the italics, 'finding his strength fail, he told the men he must yield to his fate, and soon afterwards sank whilesinging a psalm.'"—Francis Jacox.

When Latour was guillotined at Foix, in 1864, for the murder of a family of four persons, great was the throng in the streets, despite the heavy rain that fell; for, to ensure a good attendance, the condemned man had announced his intention to compose for the occasion a series of verses, which he would sing on his way (in a cart,vis-à-viswith messieurs the headsmen) from prison to scaffold. And sing them he did, all the way—a matter of some three hundred and fifty yards. Lightly he tripped up the steps of the scaffold, and then, after a deliberate survey of the crowd below and all around, he thundered forth,tonna, the following lines—a parody, or rather a personal appropriation, of the Marseillaise:

"Allons, pauvre victime,Ton jour de mort est arrivé:Contre toi de la tyrannieLe couteau sanglant est levé!"

Being then tied to the plank and flung into the usual horizontal position in order to be brought under the blade, he still went on—Allons, pauvre victime,Ton jour de mort... —until a heavy sound was heard, the blade fell, something else fell with it, and all was over.—Jacox.

[6]It is too early for the last words of John Burroughs (may it be yet many years before they are spoken), but we are struck with the wonderful accord between the last words of Bolingbroke and the closing paragraph to the preface with which Burroughs introduces his, "The Light of Day:" "I am content to let the unseen powers go their own way with me and mine without question or distrust. They brought me here, and I have found it well to be here; in due time they will take me hence, and I have no doubt that will be well for me too."

[7]Some have thought it an evidence of strength of will to die standing; and some have even wished to be buried in that posture. In Oliver Heywood's Register is the following entry:—"Oct. 28, 1684. Captain Taylor's wife, of Brighouse, buried in her garden, with head upwards, standing upright, by her husband, daughter, and other Quakers."Mrs. George S. Norton, of Pawling, N. Y., was buried at her own request sitting upright in a rocking chair enclosed in a box made of seasoned chestnut. The funeral services were held July 27, 1899.—Albany Argus.M. Halloin of the neighborhood of Caen, in Normandy, who died in the early part of this century, when he felt his end approach inserted in his last will a clause expressing his desire to be buried at night, in his bed, comfortably tucked in, with pillows and coverlets as he had died. As no opposition was raised against the execution of this clause, a huge pit was sunk, and the corpse was lowered into its last resting place, without any alteration having been made in the position in which death had overtaken him. Boards were laid over the bed, that the falling earth might not disturb this imperturbable quietist.—S. Baring-Gould: "Curiosities of Olden Times."

Mrs. George S. Norton, of Pawling, N. Y., was buried at her own request sitting upright in a rocking chair enclosed in a box made of seasoned chestnut. The funeral services were held July 27, 1899.—Albany Argus.

M. Halloin of the neighborhood of Caen, in Normandy, who died in the early part of this century, when he felt his end approach inserted in his last will a clause expressing his desire to be buried at night, in his bed, comfortably tucked in, with pillows and coverlets as he had died. As no opposition was raised against the execution of this clause, a huge pit was sunk, and the corpse was lowered into its last resting place, without any alteration having been made in the position in which death had overtaken him. Boards were laid over the bed, that the falling earth might not disturb this imperturbable quietist.—S. Baring-Gould: "Curiosities of Olden Times."

[8]There is a story which comes to us from Scioppius, that Bruno rejected "with a terrible menacing countenance" a crucifix which was held up to him, and which may have been heated red hot, as was customary, in order to convince the spectators of the sufferer's impiety, and prevent them from feeling pity for him in his distress. The story has no very good foundation, but we know that heated crucifixes were not uncommon among the ghostly persecutors of earlier and darker days; and we can easily see how a man asked to kiss such a crucifix might exhibit "a terrible menacing countenance."

[9]In the Appendix of Allan Cunningham's "Life of Burns" we read of an examination of the poet's Tomb, made immediately after that life was published:"When Burns's Mausoleum was opened in March, 1834, to receive the remains of his widow, some residents in Dumfries obtained the consent of her nearest relative to take a cast from the cranium of the poet. This was done during the night between the 31st of March and 1st of April. Mr. Archibald Blacklock, surgeon, drew up the following description:"The cranial bones were perfect in every respect, if we except a little erosion of their external table, and firmly held together by their sutures, &c., &c. Having completed our intention [i. e., of taking a plaster cast of the skull, washed from every particle of sand, &c.], the skull securely closed in a leaden case, was again committed to the earth, precisely where we found it."

[9]In the Appendix of Allan Cunningham's "Life of Burns" we read of an examination of the poet's Tomb, made immediately after that life was published:

"When Burns's Mausoleum was opened in March, 1834, to receive the remains of his widow, some residents in Dumfries obtained the consent of her nearest relative to take a cast from the cranium of the poet. This was done during the night between the 31st of March and 1st of April. Mr. Archibald Blacklock, surgeon, drew up the following description:

"The cranial bones were perfect in every respect, if we except a little erosion of their external table, and firmly held together by their sutures, &c., &c. Having completed our intention [i. e., of taking a plaster cast of the skull, washed from every particle of sand, &c.], the skull securely closed in a leaden case, was again committed to the earth, precisely where we found it."

[10]On February 5th, 1881, in the tranquil exhaustion of a ripe old age, this trueSageof modern times passed away at his home in Cheyne Row, Chelsea, where he had lived for fifty years: and,—as theTimesremarked,—the world seemed duller, colder, and darker, in that this one grey old man had left it.No time was lost in collecting funds to provide for a public monument of the philosopher. The work was entrusted to Mr. J. E. Boehm, R.A., with the result of a most admirable statue in bronze, life-size, representing Carlyle as he was in his latter days, in an attitude of thought, seated in an arm-chair, and wearing his well-known dressing-gown. "For this noble piece of portraiture," Mr. Ruskin wrote of it, "I cannot trust myself to express my personal gratitude, or to speak at all of the high and harmonious measure in which it seems to me to express the mind and features of my dear master." It is appropriately placed in the little public garden, at the end of Great Cheyne Row, Chelsea, where Carlyle had spent the last forty years of his life. There, on October 26th, 1882, in presence of many of those who were his attached friends in life, it was unveiled by Professor Tyndall, who delivered an eloquent address on the occasion. Among those who assisted were Lord Houghton, Mrs. Oliphant, Miss Swanwick, Moncure D. Conway, Robert Browning, Dr. Martineau, Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, and others. A simple inscription on the massive pedestal, of Aberdeen granite, records the dates of the birth and death of the remarkable man in whose honour it is erected.—William Bates.

No time was lost in collecting funds to provide for a public monument of the philosopher. The work was entrusted to Mr. J. E. Boehm, R.A., with the result of a most admirable statue in bronze, life-size, representing Carlyle as he was in his latter days, in an attitude of thought, seated in an arm-chair, and wearing his well-known dressing-gown. "For this noble piece of portraiture," Mr. Ruskin wrote of it, "I cannot trust myself to express my personal gratitude, or to speak at all of the high and harmonious measure in which it seems to me to express the mind and features of my dear master." It is appropriately placed in the little public garden, at the end of Great Cheyne Row, Chelsea, where Carlyle had spent the last forty years of his life. There, on October 26th, 1882, in presence of many of those who were his attached friends in life, it was unveiled by Professor Tyndall, who delivered an eloquent address on the occasion. Among those who assisted were Lord Houghton, Mrs. Oliphant, Miss Swanwick, Moncure D. Conway, Robert Browning, Dr. Martineau, Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, and others. A simple inscription on the massive pedestal, of Aberdeen granite, records the dates of the birth and death of the remarkable man in whose honour it is erected.—William Bates.

[11]I mention the discovery of the body of Charles I. when George IV. was Prince Regent. It has been asserted, and is, I believe, true, that the nation wished the body of him whom they always called "the saint and martyr" to be removed from Windsor and buried in Westminster Abbey: and that a sum of no less than £70,000 was entrusted by Parliament to Charles II. to erect a tomb over the remains of his father. If the story be true, the entire sum disappeared and was not put to the intended purpose. It was, however, supposed that the "White King's"coffin, at any rate, had been transferred to the Abbey. It was in order to settle a doubt on this point that George IV., then Prince Regent, went down into the vaults of Windsor with the famous physician, Sir Henry Halford. There they found the coffins of Henry VIII. and of his wife, Lady Jane Seymour; and between them lay a coffin on which were rudely scratched the letters "C. I." In order to be sure that this was indeed the coffin of the executed king, they opened it—and there lay before them the handsome face, just as Vandyke depicted it; though (as always happens in such cases) the nose fell in immediately that the corpse was exposed to the open air. Then—I simply tell the tale as it was told to me; for, though there must be some printed account of the event, I have never seen it—Sir Henry Halford took up by the hair the decapitated head, and placed it on the palm of his hand, which was covered by his silk handkerchief. When he replaced the head in the coffin the vertebra of the neck, which had been smoothly severed by the axe of the executioner, was lying on his handkerchief; and the Prince Regent remarked to Sir Henry that this would be an interesting relic for him. He took it; and had it set in gold with the inscription, "Os Caroli Primi, heu intercisum." I believe that, by the wish and right-feeling of H. R. H. the Prince of Wales, this relic of the hapless king has been replaced in the coffin. Everyone will recall the sanguinary epigram of Lord Byron upon the incident which I have narrated.—Farrar.

[12]In hisHistory of the Stage, Curll states that Nell first captivated the king by her manner of delivering the epilogue to Dryden'sTyrannic Love: or, The Royal Martyr. The tragedy was founded upon the story of the martyrdom of St. Catherine, by way of compliment to Catherine of Braganza. She personatedValeria, the daughter of Maximin, tyrant of Rome.

[13]The massacre of St. Bartholomew lasted seven days, during which more than 5,000 persons were slain in Paris, and about 50,000 in the country. During all this season of murder, the king betrayed neither pity nor remorse, but fired with his long gun at the poor fugitives across the river; and on viewing the body of Coligni on a gibbet, he exulted with a fiendish malignity. In early life this monster had been noted for his cruelty: nothing gave him greater pleasure than cutting off the heads of asses or pigs with a single blow from his couteau de chasse. After the massacre, he is said to have contracted a singularly wild expression of feature, and to have slept little and waked in agonies. He attributed his thirst for human blood to the circumstance of his mother having at an early period of his life familiarized his mind with the brutal sport of hunting bullocks, and with all kinds of cruelty.—Winslow's Anatomy of Suicide, p. 52, note.

[14]It is a tradition in Corsica that when St. Pantaleon was beheaded, thecaput mortuum, as it might have been thought, rose from the block and sang.A reliable gentleman who witnessed an execution, wrote as follows: "It appears to be the best of all modes of inflicting the punishment of death, combining the greatest impression on the spectator with the least possible suffering to the victim. It is so rapid that I should doubt whether there was any suffering; but from the expression of the countenance, when the executioner held up the head, I am inclined to believe that sense and consciousness may remain for a few seconds after the head is off. The eyes seemed to retain speculation for a moment or two, and there was a look in the ghastly stare with which they stared upon the crowd, which implied that the head was aware of its ignominious situation."

[14]It is a tradition in Corsica that when St. Pantaleon was beheaded, thecaput mortuum, as it might have been thought, rose from the block and sang.

A reliable gentleman who witnessed an execution, wrote as follows: "It appears to be the best of all modes of inflicting the punishment of death, combining the greatest impression on the spectator with the least possible suffering to the victim. It is so rapid that I should doubt whether there was any suffering; but from the expression of the countenance, when the executioner held up the head, I am inclined to believe that sense and consciousness may remain for a few seconds after the head is off. The eyes seemed to retain speculation for a moment or two, and there was a look in the ghastly stare with which they stared upon the crowd, which implied that the head was aware of its ignominious situation."

[15]Upon the 14th of February, in the 30th year of Queen Mary, was Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, brought to the stake, where he first thrust his right hand into the fire (with which he had before subscribed a recantation) till it first, and then his whole body was consumed; but what was most remarkable, his heart remained whole, and was not once touched by the fire.—Baker's Chron. p. 463.We have the same story about the heart of Zuinglius. Three days after it had been cast into the fire to be burned to ashes some friends found it untouched by the flames.—Melch. Adam. Vit. p. 37."Mr. J. C. Jeaffresonin his book 'The Real Shelley' writes: 'All the world knows how Shelley's torn and disfigured corpse was reduced to ashes and a few fragments of bone (with the exception of the heart that wouldnotbe burnt) on the pyre;' and probably, since Trelawny, shortly after the poet's death, reported that 'his heart remained entire,' his statement has been unhesitatingly accepted. I have, however, reason for thinking that the story does not rest on trustworthy evidence."When a body is burnt the part which longest resists the action of the fire after the base of the skull and one or two of the most solid portions of bone, is the liver. The heart, being hollow and smaller, is easily destroyed: but the liver, a moist and solid mass, repels intense heat, and ultimately deposits an ash of pure carbon, which no continued burning or increase of temperature can further change. In the cemetery of Milan where I have seen human cremations completely carried out in seventy minutes by Signor Venini's reverberatory furnace, the best method known, I also learned that the liver, perhaps from its containing this element of carbon, can endure for a considerable time even that concentrated whirlwind of fire, and remain almost intact after the heart has totally disappeared. Moreover, in Shelley's case the liver would have been saturated with sea-water, and thereby rendered still more incombustible. It is extremely improbable that Byron, Leigh Hunt, or Trelawny knew enough anatomy to identify accurately the charred substance they took to be the heart, and it is more likely, owing to the thin edge of the liver being consumed, and its size consequently being much reduced, that they mistook the shrunken remains of the one organ for the whole of the other."From observing the Milanese cremations alluded to I think it barely possible that the human heart is ever capable of withstanding fire for more than a brief period; but since Mr. J. A. Symonds asserts, to my surprise, that Shelley's heart was given by Leigh Hunt to Mrs. Shelley, and is now at Boscombe, the seat of the present baronet, it would be easy for some competent anatomist to determine the question I have raised."In any case, the hero-worshipping and sentimental tourists who go in crowds to that lovely spot beneath the pyramid of Caius Cestius to mourn over Shelley's untimely fate have been strangely deceived for more than sixty years in believing that beneath the marble graven with the touching words 'Cor Cordium' lies the flame proof heart of their favorite poet."—Bicknell.

We have the same story about the heart of Zuinglius. Three days after it had been cast into the fire to be burned to ashes some friends found it untouched by the flames.—Melch. Adam. Vit. p. 37.

"Mr. J. C. Jeaffresonin his book 'The Real Shelley' writes: 'All the world knows how Shelley's torn and disfigured corpse was reduced to ashes and a few fragments of bone (with the exception of the heart that wouldnotbe burnt) on the pyre;' and probably, since Trelawny, shortly after the poet's death, reported that 'his heart remained entire,' his statement has been unhesitatingly accepted. I have, however, reason for thinking that the story does not rest on trustworthy evidence.

"When a body is burnt the part which longest resists the action of the fire after the base of the skull and one or two of the most solid portions of bone, is the liver. The heart, being hollow and smaller, is easily destroyed: but the liver, a moist and solid mass, repels intense heat, and ultimately deposits an ash of pure carbon, which no continued burning or increase of temperature can further change. In the cemetery of Milan where I have seen human cremations completely carried out in seventy minutes by Signor Venini's reverberatory furnace, the best method known, I also learned that the liver, perhaps from its containing this element of carbon, can endure for a considerable time even that concentrated whirlwind of fire, and remain almost intact after the heart has totally disappeared. Moreover, in Shelley's case the liver would have been saturated with sea-water, and thereby rendered still more incombustible. It is extremely improbable that Byron, Leigh Hunt, or Trelawny knew enough anatomy to identify accurately the charred substance they took to be the heart, and it is more likely, owing to the thin edge of the liver being consumed, and its size consequently being much reduced, that they mistook the shrunken remains of the one organ for the whole of the other.

"From observing the Milanese cremations alluded to I think it barely possible that the human heart is ever capable of withstanding fire for more than a brief period; but since Mr. J. A. Symonds asserts, to my surprise, that Shelley's heart was given by Leigh Hunt to Mrs. Shelley, and is now at Boscombe, the seat of the present baronet, it would be easy for some competent anatomist to determine the question I have raised.

"In any case, the hero-worshipping and sentimental tourists who go in crowds to that lovely spot beneath the pyramid of Caius Cestius to mourn over Shelley's untimely fate have been strangely deceived for more than sixty years in believing that beneath the marble graven with the touching words 'Cor Cordium' lies the flame proof heart of their favorite poet."—Bicknell.

[16]The man whose mind, on virtue bent,Pursues some greatly good intent,With undiverted aim,Serene beholds the angry crowd;Nor can their clamors, fierce and loud,His stubborn honor tame.Not the proud tyrant's fiercest threat,Nor storms, that from their dark retreatThe lawless surges wake;Not Jove's dread bolt, that shakes the pole,The firmer purpose of his soulWith all its power can shake.Should nature's frame in ruins fall,And chaos o'er the sinking ballResume the primeval sway,His courage chance and fate defies,Nor feels the wreck of earth and skiesObstruct its destined way.Translated by Blacklocke.

The man whose mind, on virtue bent,Pursues some greatly good intent,With undiverted aim,Serene beholds the angry crowd;Nor can their clamors, fierce and loud,His stubborn honor tame.Not the proud tyrant's fiercest threat,Nor storms, that from their dark retreatThe lawless surges wake;Not Jove's dread bolt, that shakes the pole,The firmer purpose of his soulWith all its power can shake.Should nature's frame in ruins fall,And chaos o'er the sinking ballResume the primeval sway,His courage chance and fate defies,Nor feels the wreck of earth and skiesObstruct its destined way.Translated by Blacklocke.

The man whose mind, on virtue bent,Pursues some greatly good intent,With undiverted aim,Serene beholds the angry crowd;Nor can their clamors, fierce and loud,His stubborn honor tame.

Not the proud tyrant's fiercest threat,Nor storms, that from their dark retreatThe lawless surges wake;Not Jove's dread bolt, that shakes the pole,The firmer purpose of his soulWith all its power can shake.

Should nature's frame in ruins fall,And chaos o'er the sinking ballResume the primeval sway,His courage chance and fate defies,Nor feels the wreck of earth and skiesObstruct its destined way.Translated by Blacklocke.

[17]Charles V., of Spain, seems to have entertained the same morbid desire for a personal acquaintance with his ownpostmortemappearance and condition. In Robertson's History of the Reign of the Emperor Charles V. we have this account of the monarch's attendance upon his own funeral: "He resolved to celebrate his own obsequies before his death. He ordered his tomb to be erected in the chapel of the monastery. His domestics marched thither in funeral procession, with black tapers in their hands. He himself followed in his shroud. He was laid in his coffin with much solemnity. The service for the dead was chanted, and Charles joined in the prayers which were offered up for the rest of his soul, mingling his tears with those which his attendants shed, as if they had been celebrating a real funeral. The ceremony closed with sprinkling holy water on the coffin in the usual form, and all the assistants retiring, the doors of the chapel were shut. Then Charles rose out of the coffin, and withdrew to his apartment, full of those awful sentiments which such a singular solemnity was calculated to inspire." This story is somewhat changed in Stirling's "Cloister Life of the Emperor Charles V."If I must die, I'll snatch at every thingThat may but mind me of my latest breath;Death's-heads, Graves, Knells, Blacks, Tombs, all these shall bringInto my soul such useful thoughts of death,That this sable king of fearsShall not catch me unawares.—Quarles.

If I must die, I'll snatch at every thingThat may but mind me of my latest breath;Death's-heads, Graves, Knells, Blacks, Tombs, all these shall bringInto my soul such useful thoughts of death,That this sable king of fearsShall not catch me unawares.—Quarles.

[18]These instructions were probably ignored; for, when his tomb was opened by the Society of Antiquaries in 1771, those present gazed for a moment on the features of the great victor before they sank into dust. The gold cloth was still folded round the colossal corpse; and the cast in the eyes was distinctly noticeable. The snow-white hair still remained. The coffin was then filled with pitch.—Farrar.John Zisca, general of the insurgents who took up arms in 1419 against the Emperor Sigismund, seems to have had a like spirit with Edward I. He would revenge the deaths of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, who had been cruelly burned at the stake for their religious faith. He defeated the Emperor in several pitched battles, and gave orders that, after his death, they should make a drum out of his skin. The order was most religiously obeyed, and those very remains of the enthusiastic Zisca proved, for many years, fatal to the Emperor, who, with difficulty, in the space of sixteen years, recovered Bohemia, assisted by the forces of Germany. The insurgents were 40,000 in number, and well disciplined.

John Zisca, general of the insurgents who took up arms in 1419 against the Emperor Sigismund, seems to have had a like spirit with Edward I. He would revenge the deaths of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, who had been cruelly burned at the stake for their religious faith. He defeated the Emperor in several pitched battles, and gave orders that, after his death, they should make a drum out of his skin. The order was most religiously obeyed, and those very remains of the enthusiastic Zisca proved, for many years, fatal to the Emperor, who, with difficulty, in the space of sixteen years, recovered Bohemia, assisted by the forces of Germany. The insurgents were 40,000 in number, and well disciplined.

[19]There is a dim tradition that, much more than a century ago, the tomb under which the two sister-queens—Mary, the Roman Catholic, and Elizabeth, the Protestant,regno consortes et urna—lie side by side had fallen into disrepair, and that a bold Westminster boy crept into the hollow vault, and, through an aperture in the coffin, laid his hand on the heart of the mighty Tudor queen.—Farrar.

[20]The quiet little town of Concord is greatly stirred up over the discovery of a dastardly attempt on Saturday night to rob the last resting place of its noted dead, the grave of Ralph Waldo Emerson. The fact that the grave had been visited by vandals was discovered early Sunday afternoon by a visitor to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, where the remains are interred. At the head of the grave was a large aperture seven feet in depth and twenty inches wide extending to the box containing the casket.An alarm was at once given, and the town authorities, together with the Sleepy Hollow Commissioners, made an investigation. The perpetrators of the deed have not been discovered, but the theory is that the attempted vandalism was made some time during Saturday night, and the villains were frightened away by some passing team on the Bedford road just adjacent. Whether the motive was to obtain possession of the remains, or to despoil the casket of its valuable trimmings, is, of course, a matter of conjecture; but the general impression is that the skull was what was most wanted. The wooden box inclosing the casket had decayed somewhat, the interment having taken place over seven years ago, and in the earth which the rascals had thrown out were some pieces of the box. One side of the casket had fallen down a little, but this is attributable to natural decay. Otherwise the casket had not been disturbed or opened.Mr. Edward W. Emerson, son of Ralph Waldo, arrived home this afternoon, and the investigation of the desecration of his father's grave was immediately entered upon by him with the town authorities. Mr. Emerson has been out of town for two weeks or more, and the first information he had of the affair was that given him upon his arrival this noon. The earth has been replaced, and a watch placed over the grave.N. Y. Times, Oct. 15, 1889.

An alarm was at once given, and the town authorities, together with the Sleepy Hollow Commissioners, made an investigation. The perpetrators of the deed have not been discovered, but the theory is that the attempted vandalism was made some time during Saturday night, and the villains were frightened away by some passing team on the Bedford road just adjacent. Whether the motive was to obtain possession of the remains, or to despoil the casket of its valuable trimmings, is, of course, a matter of conjecture; but the general impression is that the skull was what was most wanted. The wooden box inclosing the casket had decayed somewhat, the interment having taken place over seven years ago, and in the earth which the rascals had thrown out were some pieces of the box. One side of the casket had fallen down a little, but this is attributable to natural decay. Otherwise the casket had not been disturbed or opened.

Mr. Edward W. Emerson, son of Ralph Waldo, arrived home this afternoon, and the investigation of the desecration of his father's grave was immediately entered upon by him with the town authorities. Mr. Emerson has been out of town for two weeks or more, and the first information he had of the affair was that given him upon his arrival this noon. The earth has been replaced, and a watch placed over the grave.

N. Y. Times, Oct. 15, 1889.

[21]It has been suggested that Franklin was helped to his famous epitaph upon himself by Benjamin Woodbridge's funeral elegy upon John Cotton, preserved in Mather's Magnalia:"A living, breathing Bible; tables whereBest covenants at large engraven were;Gospel and law in his heart had each its column;His head an index to the sacred volume;His very name a title-page; and nextHis life a commentary on the text.O, what a monument of glorious worth,When in a new edition he comes forth,Without erratas, may we think he'll beIn leaves and covers of eternity."

[21]It has been suggested that Franklin was helped to his famous epitaph upon himself by Benjamin Woodbridge's funeral elegy upon John Cotton, preserved in Mather's Magnalia:

"A living, breathing Bible; tables whereBest covenants at large engraven were;Gospel and law in his heart had each its column;His head an index to the sacred volume;His very name a title-page; and nextHis life a commentary on the text.O, what a monument of glorious worth,When in a new edition he comes forth,Without erratas, may we think he'll beIn leaves and covers of eternity."

[22]Mr. Carlyle may well call it a "characteristic trait" in his favorite Friedrich Wilhelm, as that "wild son of Nature" lay a-dying, that on a certain German hymn which he "much loved" being sung to him, or along with him,—when they came to the words, "Naked I came into the world, and naked shall I go out,"—"No," said he, with vivacity, "not quite naked; I shall have my uniform on." After which the singing went on again with vivacity, akin to that with which the mother of Henri Quatre—not left the world, but brought her son into it; for historians, without romancing, tell us she sung a gay Béarnais song as her brave boy was coming into the world at Pau.

[23]Mr. Berkley, of Knightsbridge, who died in 1805, left a pension of £25 per annum to his four dogs. This man, when he felt his end approaching, called for his four dogs. These were placed by his side; and he reached them his trembling hand, caressed them, and breathed his last between their paws. The four dogs were sculptured, according to his last wish, upon the corners of his tomb.

[24]The King of Siam is sending an envoy to India to receive the relics of Buddha, discovered some time ago on the Nepal frontier, which were offered his Majesty by the Indian Government. The King, who gratefully accepted the offer, has agreed to distribute portions of the relics among the Buddhists of Burma and Ceylon from Bangkok. It will probably be remembered that in January last a well-preserved stupa was opened at the village of Piprahwa, on the Nepal frontier, in the Basti district of the North-west Provinces. This village was in the Birdpur grant, a large property owned by Mr. William C. Peppé and his brother. Inside the building was found a large stone coffer, crystal and steatite vases, bone and ash relics, fragments of lime, plaster, and wooden vessels, and a large quantity of jewels and ornaments placed in two vases in honor of the relics. A careful list was at once made of all the articles, and Mr. Peppé generously offered to place them at the disposal of the Government. The special interest of the discovery lies in the fact that the relics in honor of which the stupa was erected appear to be those of Gautama Buddha Sakya Muni himself, and may be the actual share of the relics taken by the Sakyas of Kapilavastir at the time of the cremation of Gautama Buddha.The inscription on one of the urns proves that the builders of the stupa believed the relics to be those of Gautama Buddha himself, and runs: "This relic-receptacle of the Blessed Sakya Buddha is dedicated by the renowned brethren with their sisters and their sons' wives." The characters of the record, Prof. Bührer points out, do not mark medial long vowels, and appear to be older than those of the Asoka inscription.The actual relics, being a matter of such intense interest to the Buddhist world, were offered by the Indian Government to the King of Siam, who is the only existing Buddhist monarch, with a proviso that he would not object to offer a portion of the relics to the Buddhists of Burma and Ceylon, and it was suggested that his Majesty should send a deputation to receive the sacred relics with due ceremonial.No relics of Buddha authenticated by a direct inscription have before been found in modern times, so the relics are as rare as they are unique, and by all Buddhists will be regarded as most sacred and holy objects of devotion. Their presentation to the King of Siam, the recognized head of the religion, is therefore highly proper. The accessories which were discovered will, it is understood, be distributed among the Imperial Museum at Calcutta, the Lucknow Provincial Museum, and perhaps the British Museum, Mr. Peppé retaining a reasonable number of duplicates for his own use. The stone coffer above referred to is over four feet in length and two in height. It is made out of a solid block of sandstone, and weighs about sixteen hundredweight. It is understood that the acknowledgments of the Government have been conveyed to Mr. Peppé for his public-spirited action in the matter.—London Times, Dec. 17, 1886.

The inscription on one of the urns proves that the builders of the stupa believed the relics to be those of Gautama Buddha himself, and runs: "This relic-receptacle of the Blessed Sakya Buddha is dedicated by the renowned brethren with their sisters and their sons' wives." The characters of the record, Prof. Bührer points out, do not mark medial long vowels, and appear to be older than those of the Asoka inscription.

The actual relics, being a matter of such intense interest to the Buddhist world, were offered by the Indian Government to the King of Siam, who is the only existing Buddhist monarch, with a proviso that he would not object to offer a portion of the relics to the Buddhists of Burma and Ceylon, and it was suggested that his Majesty should send a deputation to receive the sacred relics with due ceremonial.

No relics of Buddha authenticated by a direct inscription have before been found in modern times, so the relics are as rare as they are unique, and by all Buddhists will be regarded as most sacred and holy objects of devotion. Their presentation to the King of Siam, the recognized head of the religion, is therefore highly proper. The accessories which were discovered will, it is understood, be distributed among the Imperial Museum at Calcutta, the Lucknow Provincial Museum, and perhaps the British Museum, Mr. Peppé retaining a reasonable number of duplicates for his own use. The stone coffer above referred to is over four feet in length and two in height. It is made out of a solid block of sandstone, and weighs about sixteen hundredweight. It is understood that the acknowledgments of the Government have been conveyed to Mr. Peppé for his public-spirited action in the matter.—London Times, Dec. 17, 1886.

[25]A paragraph from one of Mr. Gough's public addresses, carved upon his monument in Hope Cemetery, Worcester, shows the strength of his conviction and illustrates the directness and force of his style:"I can desire nothing better for this great country than that a barrier high as heaven be raised between the unpolluted lips of the children and the intoxicating cup; that everywhere men and women should raise strong and determined hands against whatever will defile the body, pollute the mind, or harden the heart against God and His truth."

"I can desire nothing better for this great country than that a barrier high as heaven be raised between the unpolluted lips of the children and the intoxicating cup; that everywhere men and women should raise strong and determined hands against whatever will defile the body, pollute the mind, or harden the heart against God and His truth."

[26]Tacitus said, "At my funeral let no tokens of sorrow be seen, no pompous mockery of woe. Crown me with chaplets, strew flowers on my grave, and let my friends erect no vain memorial to tell where my remains are lodged."Ludovious Cortesius, a rich lawyer at Padua, commanded by his last will, that no man should lament; but, as at a wedding, music and minstrels to be a delight to the people, should be provided; and instead of black mourners, he ordered that twelve virgins clad in green should carry him to the church.The Hon. T. G. Shearman wrote in his diary (read at his funeral in Plymouth church, Brooklyn, N. Y.) under date of May 21, 1894: "Give me an unostentatious, cheery funeral, in no darkened room, and with no dreariness of any kind."

Ludovious Cortesius, a rich lawyer at Padua, commanded by his last will, that no man should lament; but, as at a wedding, music and minstrels to be a delight to the people, should be provided; and instead of black mourners, he ordered that twelve virgins clad in green should carry him to the church.

The Hon. T. G. Shearman wrote in his diary (read at his funeral in Plymouth church, Brooklyn, N. Y.) under date of May 21, 1894: "Give me an unostentatious, cheery funeral, in no darkened room, and with no dreariness of any kind."

[27]It has been thought that Lieber's death was occasioned by rupture of the heart. See the last words of Charles Sumner and the foot note on his sudden death. See also the last words of John Palmer and the account of his death appended from the Annual Register.

[28]In theLast Journalsthe date is May 1st; on the stone, May 4th. The attendants could not quite determine the day.

[29]The section of the tree containing the inscription made by Jacob Wainwright has been brought to England and deposited in the house of the Geographical Society.

[30]To some of the most distinguished of our race death has come in the strangest possible way, and so grotesquely as to subtract greatly from the dignity of the sorrow it must certainly have occasioned. Æschylus, whose seventy tragedies, to say nothing of his many satiric dramas, have given their author an immortal name, was killed by the fall of a tortoise on his bald head from the talons of an eagle high in the air above him.There was a singular propriety in the death of Anacreon by choking at a grape stone or a dried grape. The poet whose sweetest and most enticing lines celebrate wine and love came to his death at the ripe age of eighty-five from the fruit of the vine. Agathocles, the tyrant of Syracuse, was given by the treacherous Maenon a poisoned toothpick which soon rendered his mouth incurably gangrened, and deprived him of the power of speech. While in this miserable and helpless condition he was stretched upon the funeral pile and burned alive.Fabius, the Roman praetor, died from the same cause that occasioned the death of Anacreon. A single goat hair in the milk he was drinking, lodged in his trachea and choked him. Chalchas, the soothsayer, outlived the time predicted for his death, which struck him as so comical that he burst into a fit of most immoderate laughter from which he died. Thus also died the famous Marquette, who was convulsed with a fatal merriment on seeing a monkey trying to pull on a pair of boots. Philomenes was seized with an equally disastrous merriment when he came suddenly upon an ass that was devouring with greediness the choice figs that had been prepared for his own desert.Laughter killed the great Zeuxis, of whom Pliny relates the story of a trial of skill with the painter Parrhasius. The former painted a bunch of grapes that were so natural a bird endeavored to eat the fruit. Charles VIII., while gallantly conducting his queen into the tennis court, struck his head against the lintel and died soon after from the accident.Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales, was struck by a cricket ball, which caused his death. A pig occasioned the death of Louis VI., the creature ran under the monarch's horse causing it to stumble. But of all strange deaths that of Itadach is the strangest. He expired from thirst while toiling in the harvest field, because, in obedience to the rule of St. Patrick, he would not drink "a drop of anything."

There was a singular propriety in the death of Anacreon by choking at a grape stone or a dried grape. The poet whose sweetest and most enticing lines celebrate wine and love came to his death at the ripe age of eighty-five from the fruit of the vine. Agathocles, the tyrant of Syracuse, was given by the treacherous Maenon a poisoned toothpick which soon rendered his mouth incurably gangrened, and deprived him of the power of speech. While in this miserable and helpless condition he was stretched upon the funeral pile and burned alive.

Fabius, the Roman praetor, died from the same cause that occasioned the death of Anacreon. A single goat hair in the milk he was drinking, lodged in his trachea and choked him. Chalchas, the soothsayer, outlived the time predicted for his death, which struck him as so comical that he burst into a fit of most immoderate laughter from which he died. Thus also died the famous Marquette, who was convulsed with a fatal merriment on seeing a monkey trying to pull on a pair of boots. Philomenes was seized with an equally disastrous merriment when he came suddenly upon an ass that was devouring with greediness the choice figs that had been prepared for his own desert.

Laughter killed the great Zeuxis, of whom Pliny relates the story of a trial of skill with the painter Parrhasius. The former painted a bunch of grapes that were so natural a bird endeavored to eat the fruit. Charles VIII., while gallantly conducting his queen into the tennis court, struck his head against the lintel and died soon after from the accident.

Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales, was struck by a cricket ball, which caused his death. A pig occasioned the death of Louis VI., the creature ran under the monarch's horse causing it to stumble. But of all strange deaths that of Itadach is the strangest. He expired from thirst while toiling in the harvest field, because, in obedience to the rule of St. Patrick, he would not drink "a drop of anything."

[31]Her Will, by which her personalty, sworn under £10,000, is suitably divided among her brothers and sisters, an old servant, and a few friends, contains one peculiar provision which indicates the desire of the testatrix, even when dead, to benefit the living. "It is my desire," she says, "from an interest in the progress of scientific investigation, that my Skull should be given to Henry George Atkinson, of Upper Gloucester Place, London, and also my Brain, if my death should take place within such distance of his then present abode, as to enable him to have it for the purposes of scientific observation." By the second codicil, dated October 5th, 1872, this direction is revoked; "but," the codicil proceeds, "I wish to leave it on record that this alteration in my testamentary directions is not caused by any change of opinion as to the importance of scientific observation on such subjects, but is made in consequence merely of a change of circumstances in my individual case." The "circumstances" alluded to were doubtless these. When the removal of Miss Martineau to London took place, the "Burke and Hare" murders, and "body-snatching" generally, were the special horrors of the day. The only authorized supply of "subjects" for dissection was from the gallows; and philanthropic persons sought by selling the reversion of their bodies (a transaction which, legally, does not hold good), or like Jeremy Bentham, leaving them to some institution, or medical expert, by a special bequest (also nugatory), to dissolve the association of disgrace with the necessary procedure of dissection. The difficulty was, in great measure, relieved by the passing of Mr. Warburton's Bill; and hence the necessity for such an arrangement as that made by Miss Martineau ceased to exist. The singular provision, had however, become known; and shortly after the execution of the document, the testatrix received a letter from the celebrated aurist, Mr. Toynbee, asking her point-blank to bequeath him a "legacy of her ears." She had suffered from deafness all her life; a large amount of mischief and misery was caused by the ignorance of surgeons with regard to the auditory apparatus; and this ignorance could only be removed by such means as he proposed. The lady to whom this strange request was made, says with grim humour, that she felt "rather amused when she caught herself in a feeling of shame, as it were, at having only one pair of ears,—at having no duplicate for Mr. Toynbee, after having disposed otherwise of her skull." She, however, told him how the matter actually stood; and a meeting took place between the doctor and the legatee, "to ascertain whether one head could, in any way, be made to answer both their objects."An autopsy of her body was eventually made by Dr. T. M. Greenhow, of Leeds; a full detail of the appearances at which will be found in theBritish Medical Journal, for April 14th, 1877, p. 449.—William Bates in "The Maclise Portrait Gallery."

An autopsy of her body was eventually made by Dr. T. M. Greenhow, of Leeds; a full detail of the appearances at which will be found in theBritish Medical Journal, for April 14th, 1877, p. 449.—William Bates in "The Maclise Portrait Gallery."

[32]Mlle. Maillard, the actress, is mentioned by Lamartine as one of the Goddesses, who was compelled to play the part much against her will. "Chaumette, assisted by Laïs, an actor of the Opera, had arranged the fête of December 20, 1793. Mademoiselle Maillard, an actress, brilliant with youth and talents, played the part of the goddess. She was borne in a palanquin, the canopy of which was formed of oak branches. Women in white, with tri-colored sashes, preceded her. Attired with theatrical buskins, a Phrygian cap and a blue chlamys over a transparent tunic, she was taken to the foot of the altar and seated there. Behind her burnt an immense torch, symbolizing 'the flame of philosophy,' the true light of the world. Chaumette, taking a censer in his hands, fell on his knees to the goddess, and offered incense, and the whole concluded with dancing and song."—Lamartine.There was also a Goddess of Liberty. The wife of Momoro went attended by the municipal officers, national guards and troops of ballet girls to the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris. Gobet (the archbishop of Paris), and nearly all the bishops, vicars, canons, priests, and curés of Paris stripped themselves of their canonicals, donned the red nightcap, and joined in this blasphemous mockery.

There was also a Goddess of Liberty. The wife of Momoro went attended by the municipal officers, national guards and troops of ballet girls to the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris. Gobet (the archbishop of Paris), and nearly all the bishops, vicars, canons, priests, and curés of Paris stripped themselves of their canonicals, donned the red nightcap, and joined in this blasphemous mockery.

[33]Jeremy Bentham, when he firmly believed that he was near his last hour, said to one of his disciples, who was watching over him:—"I now feel that I am dying. Our care must be to minimize the pain. Do not let any of the servants come into the room, and keep away the youths. It will be distressing to them, and they can be of no service. Yet I must not be alone, and you will remain with me, and you only, and then we shall have reduced the pain to the least possible amount."Bentham dreaded the silence and darkness of the grave, and wished to remain even after his death in a world of living men. He left his body to Dr. Southwood Smith who was to perform certain experiments to ascertain that no life remained. After these experiments the following disposition was to be made of his remains: "The skeleton Dr. Smith shall cause to be put together in such manner that the whole figure may be seated in a chair usually occupied by me when living, in the attitude in which I am sitting when engaged in thought in the course of the time employed in writing. I direct that the body, thus prepared, shall be transferred to my executor, and that he shall cause the skeleton to be clothed in one of the suits of black usually worn by me. The body so clothed, together with the chair and the staff in my later years borne by me, he shall take charge of, and for containing the whole apparatus he shall cause to be prepared an appropriate box or case, and shall cause to be engraved in conspicuous characters on a plate to be affixed thereon, and also in the glass case in which the preparations of the soft parts of my body shall be contained, as, for example, in the manner used in the case of wine decanters; my name at length with the lettersob: followed by the day of my decease. If it should so happen that my personal friends and other disciples should be disposed to meet together on some day, or days of the year for the purpose of commemorating the founder of the Greatest Happiness System of Morals and Legislation, my executor shall cause to be conveyed into the room in which they meet the case with its contents."Humphry Repton, author of a delightful book on "Landscape Gardening and Landscape Architecture," requested that his remains might be deposited in a "garden of roses." He selected a small enclosure by the church of Aylsham, in Norfolk, one of the most lovely spots in all England, where were a number of roses and vines, as his last resting place. On the monument over his grave, after his name and age, are these lines written by himself:—"Not like the Egyptian tyrants—consecrate,Unmixt with others shall my dust remain;But mouldering, blended, melting into earth,Mine shall give form and colour to the rose;And while its vivid blossoms cheer mankind,Its perfum'd odour shall ascend to heaven."

Bentham dreaded the silence and darkness of the grave, and wished to remain even after his death in a world of living men. He left his body to Dr. Southwood Smith who was to perform certain experiments to ascertain that no life remained. After these experiments the following disposition was to be made of his remains: "The skeleton Dr. Smith shall cause to be put together in such manner that the whole figure may be seated in a chair usually occupied by me when living, in the attitude in which I am sitting when engaged in thought in the course of the time employed in writing. I direct that the body, thus prepared, shall be transferred to my executor, and that he shall cause the skeleton to be clothed in one of the suits of black usually worn by me. The body so clothed, together with the chair and the staff in my later years borne by me, he shall take charge of, and for containing the whole apparatus he shall cause to be prepared an appropriate box or case, and shall cause to be engraved in conspicuous characters on a plate to be affixed thereon, and also in the glass case in which the preparations of the soft parts of my body shall be contained, as, for example, in the manner used in the case of wine decanters; my name at length with the lettersob: followed by the day of my decease. If it should so happen that my personal friends and other disciples should be disposed to meet together on some day, or days of the year for the purpose of commemorating the founder of the Greatest Happiness System of Morals and Legislation, my executor shall cause to be conveyed into the room in which they meet the case with its contents."

Humphry Repton, author of a delightful book on "Landscape Gardening and Landscape Architecture," requested that his remains might be deposited in a "garden of roses." He selected a small enclosure by the church of Aylsham, in Norfolk, one of the most lovely spots in all England, where were a number of roses and vines, as his last resting place. On the monument over his grave, after his name and age, are these lines written by himself:—

"Not like the Egyptian tyrants—consecrate,Unmixt with others shall my dust remain;But mouldering, blended, melting into earth,Mine shall give form and colour to the rose;And while its vivid blossoms cheer mankind,Its perfum'd odour shall ascend to heaven."

[34]Malinche, Montezuma's name for Cortes, was borrowed from the original name of the conqueror's mistress and interpreter, known in the Spanish records as Marina. See "Death of Montezuma," in Prescott's "Conquest of Mexico."

[35]The world recedes. It disappears.Heaven opens to 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!—Pope: "The Dying Christian to his Soul."

The world recedes. It disappears.Heaven opens to 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!—Pope: "The Dying Christian to his Soul."

[36]It has been generally supposed that the burial of Sir John Moore, who fell at the battle of Corunna, in 1809, took place during the night, an error which doubtless arose from the statement to that effect in Wolfe's celebrated lines. Rev. Mr. Symons, who was the clergyman on the occasion, states, however, in "Notes and Queries," that the burial took place in the morning, in broad day-light.

[37]A common undistinguished grave received the coffin, which was then left without memorial—almost forgotten—for nearly twenty years; and when, in 1808, some inquiries were made as to the precise spot of the interment, all that the sexton could tell was that, at the latter end of 1791, the space about the third and fourth row from the cross was being occupied with graves; but the contents of these graves being from time to time exhumed, nothing could be determined concerning that which was once Mozart.—Home's "Life of Mozart."

[38]The heart of the first Napoleon had a narrow escape from disappearing forever, elsewhere than in the tomb. It is recorded that when he died at St. Helena his heart was extracted for preservation. The English physician who had charge of it placed it in a silver basin containing water, and leaving tapers burning beside it retired to rest. Sleep, however, visited him not, and suddenly, breaking the silence, he heard first a rustling, then a plunge in the water of the basin, then a fall with a rebound on the floor, all in quick succession. Springing from his couch, the physician saw an enormous rat dragging Bonaparte's heart to its hole: in a few moments more it would have formed a meal for rats.

[39]The effects of Mr. Cobbett were sold by auction, in 1836; and the bones brought forward to be offered for competition. The auctioneer, however, refused to put them up; and they were withdrawn, and remained in the possession of the receiver. This gentleman, desiring to be relieved, awaited the orders of the Lord Chancellor; but the latter, upon the matter being mentioned to him in court, refused to recognize them as part of the estate, or make any order respecting them. The receiver thus continued to hold them; but finding that none of the creditors would relieve him of them, or, indeed, make inquiry about them, he transferred them, in 1844, to a Mr. Tilley, who retained them in his possession until a public funeral could be arranged. I have never heard that this has been done, and know nothing more of theseThomæ venerabilis ossa.—William Bates: "The Maclise Portrait Gallery."Ode to the Bones of the Im-mortal Thomas Paine, newly transported from America to England, by the no less Im-mortal William Cobbett, Esq., by Thomas Rodd, Senr., the Bookseller (London, 1819, 4to).A Brief History of the Remains of the late Thomas Paine, from the time of their disinterment, in 1819, by the late William Cobbett, M.P., down to the year 1846(London, Watson, 1847); andNotes and Queries, Fourth Series."How Tom gets a living now ... I know not, nor does it much signify. He has done all the mischief he can in the world; and whether his carcase is at last to be suffered to rot on the earth, or to be dried in the air, is of very little consequence. Whenever or wherever he breathes his last, he will excite neither sorrow nor compassion; no friendly hand will close his eyes, not a groan will be uttered, not a tear will be shed. LikeJudas, he will be remembered by posterity;men will learn to express all that is base, malignant, treacherous, unnatural, and blasphemous, by the single monosyllable—Paine!"—Life of Thomas Paine, by William Cobbett.

Ode to the Bones of the Im-mortal Thomas Paine, newly transported from America to England, by the no less Im-mortal William Cobbett, Esq., by Thomas Rodd, Senr., the Bookseller (London, 1819, 4to).A Brief History of the Remains of the late Thomas Paine, from the time of their disinterment, in 1819, by the late William Cobbett, M.P., down to the year 1846(London, Watson, 1847); andNotes and Queries, Fourth Series.

"How Tom gets a living now ... I know not, nor does it much signify. He has done all the mischief he can in the world; and whether his carcase is at last to be suffered to rot on the earth, or to be dried in the air, is of very little consequence. Whenever or wherever he breathes his last, he will excite neither sorrow nor compassion; no friendly hand will close his eyes, not a groan will be uttered, not a tear will be shed. LikeJudas, he will be remembered by posterity;men will learn to express all that is base, malignant, treacherous, unnatural, and blasphemous, by the single monosyllable—Paine!"—Life of Thomas Paine, by William Cobbett.

[40]It is said that Peter was crucified with his head down, himself so requesting, because he thought himself unworthy to be crucified in the same manner as his Lord.

[41]On some occasion of alteration in the church at Twickenham, England, or burial of some one in the same spot, the coffin of Pope was disinterred, and opened to see the state of the remains. By a bribe to the sexton of the time, possession of the skull was obtained for the night, and another skull was returned in place of it. Fifty pounds were paid for the successful management of this transaction. Whether this account is correct or not, the fact is that the skull of Pope figures in a private museum.—William Howitt.The head of the celebrated Duc de Richelieu, like that of Pope, the Mahdi, and Swendenborg, is above ground. At the time of the revolution in France the body of the Duke was exhumed from its grave in the Church of the Sorbonne. This having been subjected to numerous indignities, the head was cut off, and the latter eventually came into the possession of a grocer, who afterward sold it to M. Armez, the elder. M. Armez, after the Restoration, offered the head to the then Duc de Richelieu, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who took no notice whatever of the offer. The son of M. Armez inherited the skull. In 1846 the illustrious Montalembert, when President of the Historical Committee of Arts and Monuments, at the instance of his colleagues, did his best to recover the head of the Duke, but without success. M. F. Feuillet de Conches, in his "Causeries d'un Curieux," makes this comment: "We accuse no one, still the fact is undeniable that this terrible head, the personification of the absolute monarchy killing the aristocratic monarchy, is wandering upon the earth like a spectre that has straggled out of the domain of the dead."

The head of the celebrated Duc de Richelieu, like that of Pope, the Mahdi, and Swendenborg, is above ground. At the time of the revolution in France the body of the Duke was exhumed from its grave in the Church of the Sorbonne. This having been subjected to numerous indignities, the head was cut off, and the latter eventually came into the possession of a grocer, who afterward sold it to M. Armez, the elder. M. Armez, after the Restoration, offered the head to the then Duc de Richelieu, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who took no notice whatever of the offer. The son of M. Armez inherited the skull. In 1846 the illustrious Montalembert, when President of the Historical Committee of Arts and Monuments, at the instance of his colleagues, did his best to recover the head of the Duke, but without success. M. F. Feuillet de Conches, in his "Causeries d'un Curieux," makes this comment: "We accuse no one, still the fact is undeniable that this terrible head, the personification of the absolute monarchy killing the aristocratic monarchy, is wandering upon the earth like a spectre that has straggled out of the domain of the dead."

[42]John Chastel was torn to pieces sixteen years before, for attempting the life of the same monarch. Salcede, the Spaniard, endeavored to assassinate Henri III., and was accordingly dismembered. Nicholas de Salvado and Balthazar de Gerrard suffered in the same way for attacking William, Prince of Orange. Livy records that Mettius Suffetius was dismembered by chariots for deserting the Roman cause.

[43]According to a writer in the Chicago "Open Court," the main cause of the death of Robert Louis Stevenson was probably his consumption of tobacco. Two years before his death he confessed that his bill for cigars amounted to $450 a year; and during the last six months of his life he smoked an average of forty cigarettes per day, and often as many as eighty in twenty-four hours. Can any one wonder that this frightful habit induced chronic insomnia, to cure or lessen which he smoked all night, till narcosis of the brain brought on stupefaction and temporary loss of consciousness—for weeks his nearest approach to refreshing slumber. His physician warned him in vain that he was burning life's candle at both ends, for he tried to write in spite of his misery; but he stuck to nicotine as the only specific for his nervousness, with the result that was inevitable,—his death a year afterwards.—Mathews: "Nugæ Litterariæ."

Mathews: "Nugæ Litterariæ."

[44]Rupture of the heart, it is believed, was first described by Harvey; but since his day several cases have been observed. Morgagni has recorded a few examples: Amongst them that of George II., who died suddenly, of this disease in 1760; and, what is very curious, Morgagni himself fell a victim to the same malady. Dr. Elliotson, in his Lumleyan Lecture on Diseases of the Heart, in 1839, stated that he had only seen one instance; but in the Cyclopædia of Practical Medicine, Dr. Townsend gives a table of twenty-five cases, collected from various authors. Generally this accident is consequent upon some organic disease, such as fatty degeneration; but it may arise from violent muscular exertion, or strong mental emotions.—Welby: "Mysteries of Life, Death and Futurity."Dr. William Stroud endeavors to prove, in his "The Physical Cause of the Death of Christ," that our Saviour died upon the cross from rupture of the heart, produced by agony of mind. He says: "In the garden of Gethsemane Christ endured mental agony so intense that, had it not been limited by divine interposition, it would probably have destroyed his life without the aid of any other sufferings; but having been thus mitigated, its effects were confined to violent palpitation of the heart, accompanied with bloody sweat. On the cross this agony was renewed, in conjunction with the ordinary sufferings incidental to that mode of punishment; and having at this time been allowed to proceed to its utmost extremity without restraint, occasioned sudden death by rupture of the heart, intimated by a discharge of blood and water from his side, when it was afterward pierced with a spear."

Dr. William Stroud endeavors to prove, in his "The Physical Cause of the Death of Christ," that our Saviour died upon the cross from rupture of the heart, produced by agony of mind. He says: "In the garden of Gethsemane Christ endured mental agony so intense that, had it not been limited by divine interposition, it would probably have destroyed his life without the aid of any other sufferings; but having been thus mitigated, its effects were confined to violent palpitation of the heart, accompanied with bloody sweat. On the cross this agony was renewed, in conjunction with the ordinary sufferings incidental to that mode of punishment; and having at this time been allowed to proceed to its utmost extremity without restraint, occasioned sudden death by rupture of the heart, intimated by a discharge of blood and water from his side, when it was afterward pierced with a spear."

[45]Swedenborg was buried in the vault of the Swedish Church in Prince's Square, on April 5, 1772. In 1790, in order to determine a question raised in debate, viz., whether Swedenborg was really dead and buried, his wooden coffin was opened, and the leaden one was sawn across the breast. A few days after, a party of Swedenborgians visited the vault. "Various relics" (says White: "Life of Swedenborg," 2nd ed., 1868, p. 675) "were carried off: Dr. Spurgin told me he possessed the cartilage of an ear. Exposed to the air, the flesh quickly fell to dust, and a skeleton was all that remained for subsequent visitors.... At a funeral in 1817, Granholm, an officer in the Swedish Navy, seeing the lid of Swedenborg's coffin loose, abstracted the skull, and hawked it about amongst London Swedenborgians, but none would buy. Dr. Wählin, pastor of the Swedish Church, recovered what he supposed to be the stolen skull, had a cast of it taken, and placed it in the coffin in 1819. The cast which is sometimes seen in phrenological collections is obviously not Swedenborg's: it is thought to be that of a small female skull."

[46]Being asked by the sheriff to explain these words, he said: "I am as you see, a man that hath a very great carcass, which I thought should have been buried in Hadley churchyard, if I had died in my bed, as I well hoped I should have done. But herein I see I was deceived. And there are a great number of worms in Hadley churchyard, which should have had jolly feeding upon this carrion which they have looked for many a day. But now I know we be deceived, both I and they; for this carcass must be burnt to ashes, and so shall they lose their bait and feeding that they looked to have had of it." Fox, the martyrologist, adds that, "when the sheriff and his company heard these words they were amazed, and looked at one another, marvelling at the man's constant mind, that thus without all fear made but a jest at the cruel torment and death now at hand prepared for him."

[47]Thus also did Themistocles, the most renowned of Grecian generals, grieve that when he had acquired the wisdom necessary for a useful life, it was time to die.

[48]The luminous faces and bodies of martyrs and saints are common enough in the chronicles of mediæval miracles. Some modern physicians think there were physiological causes for the strange and, at the time, startling phenomena.Bartholin, in his treatise "De Luce Hominum et Brutorum" (1647), gives an account of an Italian lady whom he designates as "mulier splendens," whose body shone with phosphoric radiations when gently rubbed with dry linen; and Dr. Kane, in his last voyage to the polar regions, witnessed almost as remarkable a case of phosphorescence. A few cases are recorded by Sir H. Marsh, Professor Donovan and other undoubted authorities, in which the human body, shortly before death, has presented a pale, luminous appearance.On the eve of St. Alcuin's death (May 19th, 804), the entire monastery was enveloped in a mysterious light, so that many thought the building was on fire. The soul of the saint was seen to ascend in the form of a dove, and the spectators heard celestial music in the air.—Early Superstitions.The soul of St. Engelbert while going up to heaven was so bright that St. Hermann mistook it for the moon.Andrew Jackson Davis (the "Poughkeepsie Seer") records that while in the clairvoyant condition he saw the entire process of the soul's disengagement from the body.—"The Great Harmonia,"vol.1,p.163.

Bartholin, in his treatise "De Luce Hominum et Brutorum" (1647), gives an account of an Italian lady whom he designates as "mulier splendens," whose body shone with phosphoric radiations when gently rubbed with dry linen; and Dr. Kane, in his last voyage to the polar regions, witnessed almost as remarkable a case of phosphorescence. A few cases are recorded by Sir H. Marsh, Professor Donovan and other undoubted authorities, in which the human body, shortly before death, has presented a pale, luminous appearance.

On the eve of St. Alcuin's death (May 19th, 804), the entire monastery was enveloped in a mysterious light, so that many thought the building was on fire. The soul of the saint was seen to ascend in the form of a dove, and the spectators heard celestial music in the air.—Early Superstitions.

The soul of St. Engelbert while going up to heaven was so bright that St. Hermann mistook it for the moon.

Andrew Jackson Davis (the "Poughkeepsie Seer") records that while in the clairvoyant condition he saw the entire process of the soul's disengagement from the body.—"The Great Harmonia,"vol.1,p.163.

[49]It was commonly believed that the immortal soul escaped from the dead body through the mouth. Sometimes it passed out under the form of a bird, and sometimes it seemed to be a vapor. The appearance of the departing soul is mentioned as a known fact, by the celebrated mystic, Jacob Böhmen, in his curious book. "The Three Principles," where it is described as that of "a blue vapor going forth out of the mouth of a dying man, which maketh a strong smell all over the chamber."

[50]Dr. Moore states that when the vital flame was flickering, the heart was faltering with every pulse, and every breath was a convulsion, he said to a dying believer, who had not long before been talking in broken words of undying love, "Are you in pain?" and the reply, with apparently the last breath, was, "It is delightful!" In another person, in whom a gradual disease had so nearly exhausted the physical powers that the darkness of death had already produced blindness, the sense of God's love was so overpowering, that every expression for many hours referred to it in rapturous words, such as, "This is life—this is heaven—God is love—I need not faith—I have the promise." It is easy to attribute such expressions to delirium; but this does not alter their character, nor the reality of the state of the soul which produces them. Whether a dying man can maintain any continued attention to things through his senses, we need not inquire. It is enough for him, if, in the spirit, he possesses the peace and joy of believing.—The Use of the Body in Relation to the Mind.

[51]"And Meonothai begat Ophrah: and Seraiah begat Joab,the father of the Valley of Charashim; for they were craftsmen."—1 Chronicles iv: 14; Julius Cæsar was called the Father of his country; Cosmo de Medici is so described on his tombstone; Andrea Doria has upon his statue at Genoa,Pater Patriæ; and Louis XVIII. of France was commonly called the Father of the Country.

[52]The United States has produced no greater orator than Daniel Webster; nevertheless, in the minds of many, he fell from his most exalted station as the interpreter of the public conscience, when he delivered, March 7, 1850, his famous speech, assenting to the Fugitive Slave Law. It was this speech that called forth Whittier's poem "Ichabod," which has been often compared with Browning's "Lost Leader."

[53]Walter von der Vogelweid requested that he might repose where a leafy tree should cast its shadow, and the light of the summer day should linger long; and that the birds might be fed every day from the stone over his grave. See Longfellow's beautiful poem, "Walter von der Vogelweid."

[54]Horace lib. iii, Ode 3.

[55]Sir Charles Blagden, the distinguished English physician and chemist (1748-1820) died so quietly and peacefully that not a drop of coffee in the cup which he held in his hand was spilt. He was sitting in his chair at a social meal with his friends, Monsieur and Madame Berthollet, and Gay Lussac. Dr. Joseph Black, also a famous physician, died whilst eating his customary meal of bread and milk, and so quiet and peaceful was his departure that he did not even spill the contents of a spoon which he held in his hand.

[56]William Wordsworth died April 23rd, 1850, at the age of 80, and was buried in the little centry-garth of St. Oswald's, Grasmere, between, as De Quincey records, "a yew-tree of his own planting, and an aged thorn." On his tombstone is an inscription from the pen of Keble, in which he is styled, "a chief minister, not only of noblest poesy, but of high and Sacred truth." Surely the tender lover of Nature, and high-priest of her mysteries, could have no fitter resting-place than this Westmoreland churchyard, where, as some one has written, "the turf is washed green by summer dew, and winter rain, and in early spring is beautifully dappled with lichens and golden moss?" This reads very prettily, and represents the thing as it should be. But what are the facts? The literary pilgrim who may chance to visit the spot will follow a narrow muddy path among the grave mounds, till he reaches a gloomy dingy corner, with a group of blue-black head-stones of funereal slate. Everything round the place is decayed and blighted; no green grass is there; all is dull, dark and depressing. The poet's corner is ill-drained; and there is a tiny moat of water round the base of the stone curb, in which is fixed the iron railing that surrounds the grave. Yet here is a remarkable group of memorial tombs. Near to the poet lie all the beloved members of his household. Here slumbers his favorite sister, Dorothy; here, too, Mrs. Wordsworth,—Dora Wordsworth,—her husband, Edward Quillinan, the poet, and translator of theLusiad,—the two infant children of Wordsworth,—and behind these, Hartley Coleridge, that "inheritor of unfulfilled renown," whose bier the poet followed one snowy day in January, unwitting that, before the trees were again clad with verdure, he would be borne along the same narrow path to his own long rest. Surely something should be done to rescue the poet's monument from decay, and render it more in accordance with the verdant foliage and the sun-bright hills around, of which he sung so lovingly and so well.William Bates.

William Bates.

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