Chapter 10

Scripsi olim adolescens, trimetris versibus,Et tetrametris, eâ phrasi et facundiâQuæ tum per adolescentiam et mala temporaLicebat, evangelicum Asotum aut ProdigumOmnis quidem mei laboris initium.

After it had lain among his papers for thirty years, he brought it to light, and published it. In the prologue he intreats the spectators not to be offended that he had put his sickle into the field of the Gospel, and exhorts them while they are amused with the comic parts of the dialogue, still to bear in mind the meaning of the parable.

Sed orat author carminis vos res duas:Ne ægre feratis, quod levem falcem tulitSementem in evangelicam, eamque quod audeatTractare majestatem Iambo et Tribracho;Neve insuper nimis hæreatis ludicrisLudisque comicis, sed animum advortiteHic abdito mysterio, quod eruam.

After these lines he proceeds succinctly to expound the parable.

Although the grossest representations were not merely tolerated at that time in the Miracle Plays, and Mysteries, but performed with the sanction and with the assistance of the clergy, it appears that objections were raised against the sacred dramas of this author. They were composed for a learned audience,—which is indeed the reason why the Latin or as it may more properly be called the Collegiate drama, appeared at first in a regular and respectable form, and received little or no subsequent improvement. The only excuse which could be offered for the popular exhibitions of this kind, was that they were if not necessary, yet greatly useful, by exciting and keeping up the lively faith of an ignorant, but all-believing people. That apology failed, where no such use was needed. But Macropedius easily vindicated himself from charges which in truth were not relevant to his case; for he perceived what scriptural subjects might without impropriety be represented as he treated them, and he carefully distinguished them from those upon which no fiction could be engrafted without apparent profanation. In the prologue to his Lazarus he makes this distinction between the Lazarus of the parable, and the Lazarus of the Gospel History: the former might be thus treated for edification, the latter was too sacred a theme,

—quod is sineFilii Dei persona agi non possiet.

Upon this distinction he defends himself, and carefully declares what were the bounds which ought not to be overpassed.

Fortassis objectabit illi quispiamQuod audeat sacerrimam rem, et serioNostræ saluti a Christo Jesu proditamTractare comicè, et facere rem ludicram.Fatetur ingenuè, quod eadem ratio seSæpenumero deterruit, ne quid suum,Vel ab aliis quantumlibet scriptum, pièDoctève, quod personam haberet Christi JesuAgentis, histrionibus seu ludiisPopulo exhibendum ex pulpito committeret.

From this passage I am induced to suspect that the Jesus Scholasticus, and the tragedy De Passione Christi, which are named in the list of his works, have been erroneously ascribed to him. No date of time or place is affixed to either, by the biographers. After his judicious declaration concerning such subjects it cannot be thought he would have written these tragedies; nor that if he had written them before he seriously considered the question of their propriety, he would afterwards have allowed them to appear. It is more probable that they were published without an author's name, and ascribed to him, because of his reputation. No inference can be drawn from their not appearing in the two volumes of his plays; because that collection is entitledOmnes Georgii Macropedii FabulæCOMICÆ, and though it contains pieces which are deeply serious, that title would certainly preclude the insertion of a tragedy. But a piece upon the story of Susanna which the biographers have also ascribed to him is not in the collection;1the book was printed after his retirement to Bois-le-duc, when from his age and infirmities he was most unlikely to have composed it, and therefore I conclude, that like the tragedies, it is not his work.

1This must be a comic drama.—R. S.

Macropedius was careful to guard against anything which might give offence and therefore he apologizes for speaking of thefableof his Nama:

Mirabitur fortasse vestrûm quispiam,Quod fabulam rem sacrosanctam dixerim.Verum sibi is persuasum habebit, omne quodTragico artificio comicovè scribitur,Dici poetis fabulam; quod utique nonTam historia veri texitur, quod proprium est,Quam imago veri fingitur, quod artis est.Nam comicus non propria personis solet,Sed apta tribuere atque verisimilia, utQuæ pro loco vel tempore potuere agiVel dicier.

For a very different reason he withdrew from one of these dramas certain passages, by the advice of his friends, he says,qui rem seriam fabulosius tractandum dissuaserunt.These it seems related to the first chapter of St. Luke, but contained circumstances derived not from that Gospel, but from the legends engrafted upon it, and therefore he rejects them ascitra scripturæ authoritatem.

From the scrupulousness with which Macropedius in this instance distinguishes between the facts of the Gospel history, and the fables of man's invention, it may be suspected that he was not averse at heart to those hopes of a reformation in the church which were at that time entertained. This is still further indicated in the drama called Hecastus (ἕκαστος,—Every one,) in which he represents a sinner as saved by faith in Christ and repentance. He found it necessary to protest against the suspicion which he had thus incurred, and to declare that he held works of repentance, and the sacraments appointed by the Church necessary for salvation.2

2Hecastus was represented by the schoolboys in 1538non sine magno spectantium plausu. It was printed in the ensuing year; and upon reprinting it, in 1550, the author offers his apology. He says, “fuere multi quibus (fabulæ scopo recte considerato) per omnia placuit; fuere quibus in ea nonnulla offenderunt; fuere quoque, quibus omnino displicuit, ob hoc præcipue, quod erroribus quibusdam nostri temporis connivere et suffragari videretur. Inprimis illi, quod citra pænitentiæ opera (satisfactionem dicimus) et ecclesiæ sacramenta, per solam in Christum fidem et cordis contritionem, condonationem criminum docere, vel asserere videretur: et quod quisque certo se fore servandum credere teneretur: Id quod nequaquam nec mente concepi, nec unquam docere volui, licet quibusdam fortassis fabulæ scopum non exactè considerantibus, primâ (quod aiunt) fronte sic videri potuerit. Si enim rei scopum, quem in argumento indicabam, penitus observassent, secus fortassis judicaturi fuissent.”—R. S.

Hecastus is a rich man, given over to the pomps and vanities of the world, and Epicuria his wife is of the same disposition. They have prepared a great feast, when Nomodidascalus arrives with a summons for him to appear before the Great King for Judgment. Hecastus calls upon his son Philomathes who is learned in the law for counsel; the son is horror-stricken, and confesses his ignorance of the language in which the summons is written:

Horror, pater, me invadit, anxietas quoqueNon mediocris; nam elementa quanquam barbaraMiram Dei potentiam præ se ferunt,Humaniores literas scio; barbarasNeque legere, neque intelligere, pater, queo.

The father is incensed that a son who had been bred to the law for the purpose of pleading his cause at any time should fail him thus; but Nomodidascalus vindicates the young man, and reads a severe lecture to Hecastus, in which Hebrew words of aweful admonishment are introduced and interpreted. The guests arrive, he tells them what has happened, and entreats them to accompany him, and assist him when he appears before the Judge; they plead other engagements, and excuse themselves. He has no better success with his kinsmen; though they promise to look after his affairs, and say that they will make a point of attending him with due honour as far as the gate. He then calls upon his two sons to go with him unto the unknown country whereto he has been summoned. The elder is willing to fight for his father, but not to enter upon such a journey; the lawyer does not understand the practice of those courts, and can be of no use to him there; but he advises his father to take his servants with him, and plenty of money.

Madam Epicuria, who is not the most affectionate of wives, refuses to accompany him upon this unpleasant expedient, and moreover requests that her maids may be left with her; let him take his man servants with him, and gold and silver in abundance. The servants bring out his wealth. Plutus,ex arcâ loquensis one of the Dramatis Personæ, and the said Plutus when brought upon the stage in a chest, or strong box, complains that he is shaken to pieces by being thus moved. Hecastus tells him he must go with him to the other world and help him there, which Plutus flatly refuses. If he will not go of his own accord he shall be carried whether he will or no, Hecastus says. Plutus stands stiffly to his refusal.

Non transferent; prius quidemArtus et ilia ruperint, quam transferant.In morte nemini opitulor usquam gentium,Quin magis ad alienum dominum transeo.

Hecastus on his part is equally firm, and orders his men to fetch some strong poles, and carry off the chest, Plutus and all. Having sent them forward, he takes leave of his family, and Epicuria protests that she remains like a widowed dove, and his neighbours promise to accompany him as far as the gate.

Death comes behind him now:

Horrenda imago, larva abominabilis,Figura tam execranda, ut atrum dæmonaPutetis obvium.3

3The reader should by all means consult Mr. Sharpe's “Dissertation on the Pageants or Dramatic Mysteries anciently performed in Coventry.” “The Devil,” he observes, “was a very favorite and prominent character in our Religious Mysteries, wherein he was introduced as often as was practicable, and considerable pains taken to furnish him with appropriate habiliments, &c.” p. 31. also pp. 57-60. There are several plates of “Hell-Mought and Sir Sathanas” which will not escape the examination of the curious. The bloody Herod was a character almost as famous as “Sir Sathanas”—hence the expression “to out-herod Herod”e.g.in Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. ii. With reference to the same personage Charmian says to the Soothsayer in Antony and Cleopatra, “Let me have a child at fifty, to whomHerod of Jewrymay do homage.” Act i. Sc. ii., and Mrs. Page asks in the Merry Wives of Windsor, “WhatHerod of Jewryis this?” Act ii. Sc. i.

This dreadful personage is with much difficulty intreated to allow him the respite of one short hour, after which Death declares he will return, and take him, will he or nill he before the Judge, and then to the infernal regions. During this interval who should come up but an old and long-neglected friend of Hecastus, Virtue by name; a poor emaciated person, in mean attire, in no condition to appear with him before the Judge, and altogether unfit to plead his desperate cause. She promises however to send him a Priest to his assistance and says moreover that she will speak to her sister Faith, and endeavour to persuade her to visit him.

Meantime the learned son predicts from certain appearances the approaching end of his father.

Actum Philocrate, de patris salute, utiPlane recenti ex lotio prejudico,Nam cerulea si tendit ad nigredinemUrina mortem proximam denunciat.

He has been called on, he says, too late,

Sero meam medentis admisit manum.

The brothers begin to dispute about their inheritance, and declare law against each other; but they suspend the dispute when Hieronymus the Priest arrives, that they may look after him lest he should prevail upon the dying to dispose of too large a part of his property in charitable purposes.

Id cautum oportet maximè. Novimus enimQuàm tum sibi, tum cæteris quibus favent,Legata larga extorqueat id hominum genus,Cum morte ditem terminandum viderint.

Virtue arrives at this time with his sister Faith; they follow Hieronymus into the chamber into which Hecastus has been borne; and as they go in up comes Satan to the door, and takes his seat there to draw up a bill of indictment against the dying man, he must do it carefully, he says, that there may be no flaw in it.

Causam meam scripturus absolutiusAdversum Hecastum, hic paululum desedero;Ne si quid insit falsitatis maximisFacinoribus, res tota veniat in gravemFœdamque controversiam. Abstinete vos,Quotquot theatro adestis, à petulantiâ,Nisi si velitis et hos cachinnos scribier.

Then he begins to draw up the indictment, speaking as he writes,

Primum omnium superbus est et arrogans,—Superbus est et arrogans,—et arrogans;—Tum in ædibus,—tum in ædibus; tum in vestibus,—Tum in vestibus. Jam reliqua tacitus scripsero,Loquaculi ne exaudiant et deferant.

While Satan is thus employed at the door, the priest Hieronymus within is questioning the patient concerning his religion. Hecastus possesses a very sound and firm historical belief. But this the Priest tells him is not enough, for the Devils themselves believe and tremble, and he will not admit Faith into the chamber till Hecastus be better instructed in the true nature of a saving belief.

Credis quod omnia quæ patravit FiliusDei unicus, tibi redimendo gesserit?Tibi natus est? tibi vixerit? tibi mortuusSit? tibi sepultus? et tibi surrexerit?Mortemque tibi devicerit?

Hecastus confesses in reply that he is a most miserable sinner, unworthy of forgiveness, and having brought him into this state of penitence the Priest calls Fides in.

Then says Fides,

Hæc tria quidem, cognitio nempe criminis,Horror gehennæ, et pœnitentia, læta suntVeræ salutis omnium primordia,Jam perge, ut in Deum excites fiduciam.

When this trust has been given him, and he has declared his full belief, he confesses that still he is in fear,

—est quod adhuc parit mihi scrupulum;Mors horrida, atque aspectus atri Dæmonis,Queis terribilius (inquiunt) nil hominibus,Post paululum quos adfuturos arbitros.

But Hieronymus assures him that Fides and Virtus will defend him from all danger, and under their protection he leaves him.

The scene is now again at the door, Mors arrives. Satan abuses her for having made him wait so long, and theimproba bestiain return reproaches him for his ingratitude and imprudence. However they make up their quarrel. Satan goes into the house expecting to have a long controversy with his intended victim, and Mors amuses herself in the mean time with sharpening her dart. Satan, however, finds that his controversy is not to be with Hecastus himself, but with his two advocates Fides and Virtus, and they plead their cause so provokingly that the old Lawyer tears his bill, and sculks into a corner to see how Mors will come off.

Now comes his son the Doctor and prognosticates speedy dissolutionex pulsu et atro lotio. And having more professional pride than filial feelings he would fain persuade the Acolyte who is about to assist in administering extreme unction, that he has chosen a thankless calling, and would do wisely if he forsook it for more gainful studies. The youth makes a good defence for his choice, and remains master in the argument, for the Doctor getting sight of Death brandishing the sharpened dart, takes fright and runs off. Having put the Doctor to flight, Death enters the sick chamber, and finding Fides there calls in Satan as an ally: their joint force avails nothing against Virtus, Fides and Hieronymus, and these dismiss the departing Spirit under a convoy of Angels to Abraham's bosom.

Three supplementary scenes conclude the two dramas; in the two first the widow and the sons and kinsmen lament the dead, and declare their intention of putting themselves all in mourning, and giving a funeral worthy of his rank. But Hieronymus reproves them for the excess of their grief, and for the manner by which they intended to show their respect for the dead. The elder son is convinced by his discourse, and replies

Recte mones vir omnium piissime,Linquamus omnem hunc apparatum splendidum,Linquamus hæcce cuncta in usum pauperum,Linquamus omnem luctum inanem et lachrymas;Moresque nostros corrigamus pristinos.Si multo amœniora vitæ munia,Post hanc calamitatem, morantur in fideSpe ut charitate mortuos, quid residuum estNisi et hunc diem cum patre agamus mortuoLætissimum? non in cibis et poculisGravioribus, natura quam poposcerit;Nec tympanis et organis, sed maximasDeo exhibendo gratias. Viro pioCongaudeamus intimis affectibus;Et absque pompâ inituli exequias piasPatri paremus mortuo.

The Steward then concludes the drama by dismissing the audience in these lines;

Vos qui advolastis impigri adNostra hæc theatra, tum viri, tum fœminæ,Adite nunc vestras domos sine remorâ.Nam Hecastus hic quem Morte cæsum exhibuimus,Non ante tertium diem tumulandus est,Valete cuncti, et si placuimus, plaudite.

We have in our own language a dramatic piece upon the same subject, and of the same age. It was published early in Henry the Eighth's reign, and is well known to English philologists by the name of Every Man. The title page says, “Here begynneth a treatyse how the hye Fader of Heven sendeth Dethe to somon every creature to come and gyve a counte of theyr lyves in this worlde, and is in maner of a moralle Playe.”

The subject is briefly stated in a prologue by a person in the character of a Messenger, who exhorts the spectators to hear with reverence.

This mater is wonders precyous;But the extent of it is more gracyous,And swete to here awaye.The story sayth, Man, in the begynnyngeLoke well and take good heed to the endynge,Be you never so gay.

God (the Son) speaketh at the opening of the piece, and saying that the more He forbears the worse the people be from year to year, declares his intention to have a reckoning in all haste of every man's person, and do justice on every man living.

Where art thou, Deth, thou mighty messengere?Dethe.Almighty God, I am here at your wyllYour commaundement to fulfyll.God.Go thou to Every-manAnd shewe hym in my name,A pylgrymage he must on hym take,Whiche he in no wyse may escape:And that he brynge with him a sure rekenynge,Without delay or ony taryenge.Dethe.Lorde, I wyll in the world go renne over allAnd cruelly out serche bothe grete and small.

The first person whom Death meets is Every-man himself, and he summons him in God's name to take forthwith a long journey and bring with him his book of accounts. Every-man offers a thousand pounds to be spared, and says that if he may but have twelve years allowed him, he will make his accounts so clear that he shall have no need to fear the reckoning. Not even till to-morrow is granted him. He then asks if he may not have some of his acquaintances to accompany him on the way, and is told yes, if he can get them. The first to whom he applies, is his old boon-companion Fellowship, who promises to go with him anywhere,—till he hears what the journey is on which Every-man is summoned: he then declares that he would eat, drink and drab, with him, or lend him a hand to kill any body, but upon such a business as this he will not stir a foot; and with that bidding him God speed, he departs as fast as he can.

Alack, exclaims Every-man, when thus deserted,

Felawship herebefore with me wolde mery make,And now lytell sorowe for me dooth he take.Now wheder for socoure shall I fleeSyth that Felawship hath forsaken me?To my kynnesmen I wyll truely,Prayenge them to helpe me in my necessyte.I byleve that they wyll do so;For kynde wyll crepe where it may not go.

But one and all make their excuses; they have reckonings of their own which are not ready, and they cannot and will not go with him. Thus again disappointed he breaks out in more lamentations; and then catches at another fallacious hope.

Yet in my mynde a thynge there is;All my lyfe I have loved Ryches;If that my good now helpe me myghtHe wolde make my herte full lyght.I wyll speke to hym in this distresse,Where art thou, my Goodes, and Ryches?Goodes.Who calleth me? Every-man? What hast thou haste?I lye here in corners, trussed and pyled so hye,And in chestes I am locked so fast,Also sacked in bagges, thou mayst se with thyn eyeI cannot styrre; in packes low I lye.What wolde ye have? lightly me saye,—Syr, an ye in the worlde have sorowe or adversyteThat can I helpe you to remedy shortly.Every-man.In this world it is not, I tell thee so,I am sent for an other way to go,To gyve a strayte counte generallBefore the hyest Jupiter of all:And all my life I have had joye and pleasure in the,Therefore, I pray the, go with me:For paraventure, thou mayst before God AlmightyMy rekenynge helpe to clene and puryfye;For it is said ever amongeThat money maketh all ryght that is wrong.Goodes.Nay, Every-man, I synge an other songe;I folowe no man in such vyages.For an I wente with the,Thou sholdes fare moche the worse for me.

Goodes then exults in having beguiled him, laughs at his situation and leaves him. Of whom shall he take council? He bethinks him of Good Dedes.

But alas she is so wekeThat she can nother go nor speke.Yet wyll I venter on her nowMy Good Dedes, where be you?Good Dedes.Here I lye colde on the grounde,Thy sinnes hath me sore boundeThat I cannot stere.Every-man.I pray you that ye wyll go with me.Good Dedes.I wolde full fayne, but I can not stand veryly.Every-man.Why, is there any thynge on you fall?Good Dedes.Ye, Sir; I may thanke you of all.If ye had parfytely sheved me,Your boke of counte full redy had be.Loke, the bokes of your workes and dedes eke,A! se how they lye under the fete,To your soules hevynes.Every-man.Our Lorde Jesus helpe me,For one letter here I cannot se!Good Dedes.There is a blynde rekenynge in tyme of dystres!Every-man.Good-Dedes, I pray you, helpe me in this nede,Or elles I am for ever dampned in dede.

Good Dedes calls in Knowledge to help him to make his reckoning; and Knowledge takes him lovingly to that holy man Confession; and Confession gives him a precious jewel called Penance, in the form of a scourge.

When with the scourge of Penance man doth hym bynde,The oyl of forgyvenes than shall he fynde,—Now may you make your rekenynge sure.Every-man.In the name of the holy Trynyte,My body sore punyshed shall be.Take this, Body, for the synne of the flesshe!Also thou delytest to go gay and fresshe,And in the way of dampnacyon thou dyd me brynge,Therefore suffre now strokes of punysshynge.Now of penaunce I wyll wede the water clereTo save me from Purgatory, that sharpe fyre.Good Dedes.I thanke God, now I can walke and go;And am delyvered of my sykenesse and wo,Therfore with Every-man I wyll go and not spare;His good workes I wyll helpe hym to declare.Knowlege.Now Every-man, be mery and glad,Your Good Dedes cometh now, ye may not be sad.Now is your Good Dedes hole and sounde,Goynge upryght upon the grounde.Every-man.My herte is lyght, and shall be evermore,Now wyll I smyte faster than I dyde before.

Knowledge then makes him put on the garment of sorrow called contrition, and makes him call for his friends Discretion, Strength and Beauty to help him on his pilgrimage, and his Five Wits to counsel him. They come at his call and promise faithfully to help him.

Strength.I Strength wyll by you stande in dystres,Though thou wolde in batayle fyght on the grownde.Fyve-Wyttes.And thought it were thrugh the world rounde,We wyll not depart for swete ne soure.Beaute.No more wyll I unto dethes howre,Watsoever therof befall.

He makes his testament, and gives half his goods in charity. Discretion and Knowledge send him to receive the holy sacrament and extreme unction, and Five-Wits expatiates upon the authority of the Priesthood, to the Priest he says,

God hath—more power givenThan to ony Aungell that is in Heven,With five wordes he may consecrateGoddes body in flesshe and blode to make,And handeleth his maker bytwene his handes.The preest byndeth and unbyndeth all bandesBoth in erthe and in heven.—No remedy we fynde under GodBut all-onely preesthode.—God gave Preest that dygnyte,And setteth them in his stede among us to be:Thus they be above Aungelles in degree.

Having received his viaticum Every-man sets out upon this mortal journey: his comrades renew their protestations of remaining with him; till when he grows faint on the way, and his limbs fail,—they fail him also.

Every-man.—into this cave must I crepe,And tourne to erth, and there to slepe.

What, says Beauty; into this Grave?

—adewe by saynt Johan,I take my tappe in my lappe and am gone.

Strength in like manner forsakes him; and Discretion says that “when Strength goeth before, he follows after ever more.” And Fyve-Wyttes, whom he took for his best friend, bid him, “farewell and then an end.”

Every-man.O Jesu, helpe! all hath forsaken me!Good Dedes.Nay, Every-man, I wyll byde with the,I wyll not forsake the in dede;Thou shalt fynde me a good frende at nede.

Knowledge also abides him till the last; the song of the Angel who receives his spirit is heard, and a Doctour concludes the piece with an application to the audience.

This morall men may have in mynde,—forsake Pryde for he deceyveth you in the ende,And remembre Beaute, Fyve-Wyttes, Strength and DyscrecyonThey all at the last do Every-man forsake,Save his Good Dedes, these doth he take:But be ware, an they be small,Before God he hath no helpe at all!

SYSTEM OF PROGRESSION MARRED ONLY BY MAN'S INTERFERENCE.—THE DOCTOR SPEAKS SERIOUSLY AND HUMANELY AND QUOTES JUVENAL.

MONTENEGRO. How now, are thy arrows feathered?VELASCO. Well enough for roving.MONTENEGRO. Shoot home then.SHIRLEY.

It is only when Man interferes, that the system of progression which the All Father has established throughout the living and sentient world, is interrupted, and Man, our Philosopher would sorrowfully observe, has interrupted it, not only for himself, but for such of the inferior creatures as are under his controul. He has degraded the instincts of some, and in others, perhaps it may not be too much to say that he has corrupted that moral sense of which even the brute creation partakes in its degree; and has inoculated them with his own vices. Thus the decoy duck is made a traitor to her own species, and so are all those smaller birds which the bird-catcher trains to assist him in ensnaring others. The Rat, who is one of the bravest of created things, is in like manner rendered a villain.

Upon hunting and hawking the Doctor laid little stress, because both dogs and falcons in their natural state would have hunted and fowled on their own account. These sports according to his “poor way of thinking,” tended to deprave not so much the animals, as the human beings employed in them; for when they ceased to be necessary for the support or protection of man, they became culpable. But to train dogs for war, and flesh them upon living prisoners, as the Spaniards did, (and as, long since the decease of my venerable friend, Buonaparte's officers did in St. Domingo),—to make horses, gentle and harmless as well as noble in their disposition as they are, take a part in our senseless political contentions, charge a body of men, and trample over their broken limbs and palpitating bodies;—to convert the Elephant, whom Pope, he said, had wronged by only calling him half-reasoning, the mild, the thoughtful, the magnanimous Elephant, into a wilful and deliberate and cruel executioner, these he thought were acts of high treason against humanity, and of impiety against universal nature. Grievous indeed it is, he said, to know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain; but more grievous to consider that man, who by his original sin was the guilty cause of their general deprivation, should continue by repeated sins to aggravate it;—to which he added that the lines of the Roman Satirist, though not exactly true, were yet humiliating and instructive.

MundiPrincipio indulsit communis conditor illisTantum animas, nobis animum quoque, mutuus ut nosAdfectus petere auxilium et præstare juberet,Dispersos trahere in populum, migrare vetustoDe nemore, et proavis habitatas linquere silvas;Ædificare domos, Laribus conjungere nostrisTectum aliud, tutos vicino limine somnosUt conlata daret fiducia; protegere armisLabsum, aut ingenti nutantem vulnere civem,Communi dare signa tubâ, defendier îsdemTurribus, atque unâ portarum clave teneri.Sed jam serpentum major concordia; parcitCognatis maculis similis fera; quando leoniFortior eripuit vitam leo? quo nemore unquamExpiravit aper majoris dentibus apri?Indica tigris agit rabidâ cum tigride pacemPerpetuam: sævis inter se convenit ursis.Ast homini ferrum lethale incude nefandâProduxisse parum est; quum rastra et sarcula tantumAdsueti coquere, et marris ac vomere lassiNescierint primi gladios excudere fabri.Adspicimus populos, quorum non sufficit iræOccidisse aliquem: sed pectora, brachia, vultumCrediderint genus esse cibi. Quid diceret ergoVel quo non fugerit, si nunc hæc monstra videretPythagoras: cunctis animalibus abstinuit quiTanquam homine, et ventri indulsit non omne legumen.1

1The reader may call to mind the commencement of the Third Canto of Rokeby.

The hunting tribes of air and earthRespect the brethren of their birth;Nature, who loves the claim of kind,Less cruel, chase to each assigned.The falcon, poised on soaring wing,Watches the wild-duck by the spring;The slow-hound wakes the fox's lair;The greyhound presses on the hare;The eagle pounces on the lamb;The wolf devours the fleecy dam:Even tiger fell and sullen bearTheir likeness and their lineage spare.Man, only, mars kind Nature's planAnd turns the fierce pursuit on man;Plying war's desultory trade,Incursion, flight, and ambuscade,Since Nimrod, Cush's mighty sonAt first the bloody game begun.

RATS.—PLAN OF THE LAUREATE SOUTHEY FOR LESSENING THEIR NUMBER.—THE DOCTOR'S HUMANITY IN REFUSING TO SELL POISON TO KILL VERMIN, AFTER THE EXAMPLE OF PETER HOPKINS HIS MASTER.—POLITICAL RATS NOT ALLUDED TO.—RECIPE FOR KILLING RATS.

I know that nothing can be so innocently writ, or carried, but may be made obnoxious to construction; marry, whilst I bear mine innocence about me, I fear it not.

BENJONSON.

The Laureate Southey proposed some years ago in one of his numerous and multifarious books, three methods for lessening the number of rats, one of which was to inoculate some of these creatures with the small pox or any other infectious disease, and turn them loose. Experiments, he said, should first be made, lest the disease should assume in them so new a form, as to be capable of being returned to us with interest. If it succeeded, man has means in his hand which would thin the hyenas, wolves, jackals and all gregarious beasts of prey.

Considering the direction which the March of his Intellect has long been taking, it would surprise me greatly if the Laureate were now to recommend or justify any such plan. For setting aside the contemplated possibility of physical danger, there are moral and religious considerations which ought to deter us from making use of any such means, even for an allowable end.

Dr. Dove, like his master and benefactor Peter Hopkins before him, never would sell poison for destroying vermin. Hopkins came to that resolution in consequence of having been called as a witness upon a trial for poisoning at York. The arsenic had not been bought at his shop; but to prevent the possibility of being innocently instrumental to the commission of such a crime, he made it from that time a rule for himself, irrevocable as the laws of the Medes and Persians, that to no person whatever, on any account, would he supply ingredients which by carelessness or even by unavoidable accident might be so fatally applied.

To this rule his pupil and successor, our Doctor, religiously adhered. And when any one not acquainted with the rule of the shop, came there on such an errand, he used always, if he was on the spot, to recommend other methods, adapting his arguments to what he knew of the person's character, or judged of it from his physiognomy. To an ill-conditioned and ill-looking applicant he simply recommended certain ways of entrapping rats as more convenient, and more likely to prove efficacious: but to those of whom he entertained a more favourable opinion, he would hint at the cruelty of using poison, observing that though we exercised a clear natural right in destroying noxious creatures, we were not without sin if in so doing we inflicted upon them any suffering more than what must needs accompany a violent death.

Some good natured reader who is pestered with rats in his house, his warehouses, or his barns, will perhaps when he comes to this part of our book wish to be informed in what manner our Zoophilist would have advised him to rid himself of these vermin.

There are two things to be considered here, first how to catch rats, and secondly, how to destroy them when caught. And the first of these questions is a delicate one, when a greater catch has recently been made than any that was ever heard of before, except in the famous adventure of the Pied Piper at Hammel. Jack Robinson had some reputation in his day for his professional talents in this line, but he was a bungler in comparison with Mr. Peel.

The second belongs to a science which Jeremy the thrice illustrious Bentham calls Phthisozoics, or the art of destruction applied to noxious animals, a science which the said Jeremy proposes should form part of the course of studies in his Chrestomathic school. There are no other animals in this country who do so much mischief now as the disciples of Jeremy himself.

But leaving this pestilent set, as one of the plagues with which Great Britain is afflicted for its sins; and intending no offence to any particular Bishop, Peer, Baronet, Peer-expectant, or public man whatever, and protesting against any application of what may here be said to any person who is, has been, or may be included under any of the forementioned denominations, I shall satisfy the good-natured reader's desires, and inform him in what manner our Philosopher and Zoophilist (philanthropist is a word which would poorly express the extent of his benevolence) advised those who consulted him as to the best manner of taking and destroying rats. Protesting therefore once more, as is needful in these ticklish times that I am speaking not of the Pro-papist or Anti-Hanoverian rat, which is a new species of the Parliament rat, but of the old Norway or Hanoverian one, which in the last century effected the conquest of our island by extirpating the original British breed, I inform the humane reader that the Doctor recommended nothing more than the common rat-catcher's receit, which is to lure them into a cage by oil of carroways, or of rhodium, and that when entrapped, the speediest and easiest death which can be inflicted is by sinking the cage in water.

Here Mr. Slenderwit, critic in ordinary to an established journal, wherein he is licensed to sink, burn and destroy any book in which his publisher has not a particular interest, turns down the corners of his mouth in contemptuous admiration, and calling to mind the anecdote of Grainger's invocation repeats in a tone of the softest self-complacence “Now Muse, let's sing of Rats!” And Mr. Slapdash who holds a similar appointment in a rival periodical slaps his thigh in exultation upon finding so good an opportunity for a stroke at the anonymous author. But let the one simper in accompaniment to the other's snarl. I shall say out my say in disregard of both. Aye Gentlemen,

For if a Humble Bee should kill a WhaleWith the butt end of the Antarctic pole,Tis nothing to the mark at which we aim.

RATS LIKE LEARNED MEN LIABLE TO BE LED BY THE NOSE.—THE ATTENDANT UPON THE STEPS OF MAN, AND A SORT OF INSEPARABLE ACCIDENT.—SEIGNEUR DE HUMESESNE AND PANTAGRUEL.

Where my pen hath offended,I pray you it may be amendedBy discrete considerationOf your wise reformation:I have not offended, I trust,If it be sadly discust.SKELTON.

Marvel not reader that rats, though they are among the most sagacious of all animals, should be led by the nose. It has been the fate of many great men, many learned men, most weak ones and some cunning ones.

When we regard the comparative sagacity of animals, it should always be remembered that every creature, from the lowest point of sentient existence upward, till we arrive at man, is endued with sagacity sufficient to provide for its own well-being, and for the continuance of its kind. They are gifted with greater endowments as they ascend in the scale of being, and those who lead a life of danger, and at the same time of enterprise, have their faculties improved by practice, take lessons from experience, and draw rational conclusions upon matters within their sphere of intellect and of action, more sagaciously than nine tenths of the human race can do.

Now no other animal is placed in circumstances which tend so continually to sharpen its wits,—(were I writing to the learned only, I should perhaps say to acuate its faculties, or to develope its intellectual powers,) as the rat, nor does any other appear to be of a more improvable nature. He is of a most intelligent family, being related to the Beaver. And in civilized countries he is not a wild creature, for he follows the progress of civilization, and adapts his own habits of life to it, so as to avail himself of its benefits.

The “pampered Goose” who in Pope's Essay retorts upon man, and says that man was made for the use of Geese, must have been forgetful of plucking time, as well as ignorant of the rites that are celebrated in all old-fashioned families on St. Michael's day. But the Rat might with more apparent reason support such an assertion: he is not mistaken in thinking that corn-stacks are as much for his use as for the farmers; that barns and granaries are his winter magazines; that the Miller is his acting partner, the Cheesemonger his purveyor, and the Storekeeper his steward. He places himself in relation with man, not as his dependent like the dog, nor like the cat as his ally, nor like the sheep as his property, nor like the ox as his servant, nor like horse and ass as his slaves, nor like poultry who are to “come and be killed” when Mrs. Bond invites them; but as his enemy, a bold borderer, a Johnnie Armstrong or Rob Roy who acknowledge no right of property in others, and live by spoil.

Wheresoever man goes, Rat follows, or accompanies him. Town or country are equally agreeable to him. He enters upon your house as a tenant at will, (his own, not yours,) works out for himself a covered way in your walls, ascends by it from one story to another, and leaving you the larger apartments, takes possession of the space between floor and ceiling, as an entresol for himself. There he has his parties, and his revels and his gallopades, (merry ones they are) when you would be asleep, if it were not for the spirit with which the youth and belles of Rat-land keep up the ball over your head. And you are more fortunate than most of your neighbours, if he does not prepare for himself a mausoleum behind your chimney-piece or under your hearth-stone,1retire into it when he is about to die, and very soon afford you full proof that though he may have lived like a hermit, his relics are not in the odour of sanctity. You have then the additional comfort of knowing that the spot so appropriated will thenceforth be used either as a common cemetery, or a family vault. In this respect, as in many others, nearer approaches are made to us by inferior creatures than are dreamt of in our philosophy.

1Southey alludes here to an incident which occurred in his own house. On taking up the hearth-stone in the dining-room at Keswick, it was found that the mice had made underneath it a Campo Santo,—a depository for their dead.

The adventurous merchant ships a cargo for some distant port, Rat goes with it. Great Britain plants a colony in Botany Bay, Van Diemen's Land, or at the Swan River, Rat takes the opportunity for colonizing also. Ships are sent out upon a voyage of discovery. Rat embarks as a volunteer. He doubled the Stormy Cape with Diaz, arrived at Malabar in the first European vessel with Gama, discovered the new world with Columbus and took possession of it at the same time, and circumnavigated the globe with Magellan and with Drake and with Cook.

After all, the Seigneur de Humesesne, whatever were the merits of that great case which he pleaded before Pantagruel at Paris, had reasonable grounds for his assertion when he said,Monsieur et Messieurs, si l'iniquité des hommes estoit aussi facilement vuë en jugement categorique, comme on connoit mousches en lait, le monde quatre bœufs ne seroit tant mangé de Rats comme il est.

The Doctor thought there was no creature to which you could trace back so many persons in civilized society by the indications which they afforded of habits acquired in their prænatal professional education. In what other vehicle, during its ascent could the Archeus of the Sailor have acquired the innate courage, the constant presence of mind, and the inexhaustible resources which characterise a true seaman? Through this link too, on his progress towards humanity, the good soldier has past, who is brave, alert and vigilant, cautious never to give his enemy an opportunity of advantage, and watchful to lose the occasion that presents itself. From the Rat our Philosopher traced the engineer, the miner, the lawyer, the thief, and the thief-taker,—that is, generally speaking: some of these might have pre-existed in the same state as moles or ferrets; but those who excelled in their respective professions had most probably been trained as rats.

The judicious reader will do me the justice to observe that as I am only faithfully representing the opinions and fancies of my venerable friend, I add neither M. P., Dean, Bishop nor Peer to the list, nor any of those public men who are known to hanker after candle-ends and cheese-parings.

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